Читать книгу Calculated Risk - Heather Woodhaven - Страница 13
ОглавлениеIt seemed as if a lifetime passed while they waited for the bomb squad to do a sweep of his apartment and Victoria’s car. That hour wasn’t spent twiddling thumbs, though. Jeff endured a lecture from a tall, burly officer. He lost count of how many times the man said, “You left the scene?”
“As I said before, I believed we were in danger and didn’t think it was prudent to wait around for the cops to show up.”
The officer launched into reasons why that was a “false” assumption. “You should have called. You made our job harder. Now, explain again why you thought you were in danger, because according to the initial report, malfunction of the engine was listed as a possible cause.”
Jeff’s mouth fell open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
The officer raised an eyebrow. “Vehicle fires account for 16 percent of fire department responses, sir. The fire started with the engine, emergency response vehicles were called, but unfortunately, the fire reached the gas tank before they arrived. So I’m going to repeat my question: Why did you think you were in danger?”
Jeff answered, but kept getting distracted by what was happening twenty feet away—on the other side of the parking lot—another officer was questioning Victoria. Jeff’s gut churned as he watched her. What had made him think he could be a hero? If Victoria’s theory proved to be wrong, then both of their jobs would be on thin ice. Only, after they found out about his past, he wouldn’t be of any help.
A commotion at the end of the building, at Victoria’s car, caught the officer’s attention. He fiddled with his earpiece a moment, then cleared his throat. “Sir, we will be looking more closely at your car. They just found explosives in your friend’s vehicle.”
Jeff fought a wave of nausea. So the man in the baseball cap had placed an explosive in her car, checked his apartment out, then followed him to the office and put an explosive in his car? How was that possible? “We’re dealing with more than one person,” he said aloud.
The officer didn’t appear to hear him as he spoke into his radio.
Jeff raised his voice to get the officer’s attention. “If the same explosive was set in my car as her car, why did mine go off first? Why hasn’t hers gone off? Do you have to turn on the car for it to explode?”
The policeman pursed his lips and lifted his eyes to the skies. “I’m not an explosives expert, but my understanding is the type of blasting material used is very temperamental.” He shrugged. “A stray cat, a squirrel, a strong vibration of a truck passing...you should be glad we found this one before it came to that.”
Across the parking lot, Victoria sat on the curb of the road, one arm around Baloo and one hand on her forehead. Jeff wanted to be with her when they broke the news about the bomb. Only a couple of hours ago she’d voiced the worry that someone wanted her dead, and he hadn’t believed her. Would any of this have been avoided if he had? The policeman assigned to her was speaking rapidly. No doubt, giving her the same lecture Jeff had just received about leaving the scene.
An hour later, the officer finally gave Jeff the okay to go into his town house. No explosives were found inside. He prayed they hadn’t missed anything. Taking the stairs, Jeff hoped his intruders hadn’t been there to rob. With his car gone, his mountain bike was his only mode of transportation, and they better have left it untouched.
What if the intruder had discovered the fire safe he kept underneath a spare blanket? The safe contained not only his important documents but also his stash of emergency cash, a total of two thousand dollars. Thanks to Uncle Dean, Jeff didn’t believe in banks for emergency uses. Emergency cash needed to be accessed in a heartbeat, not after a long line during bank business hours. It had taken Jeff a year and a half to save his emergency funds before he thought it prudent to start squirreling away toward his dream business. The seed money for that, at least, was tucked away in a savings account.
An officer walked out of his front door as Jeff took the last step onto the landing. “So far we’re under the impression that nothing was stolen. You want to confirm that before we leave?” The officer stepped back into the apartment, allowing Jeff enough room to slip through the doorway.
Sounds of footsteps behind him prompted a look over his shoulder. Drake followed him into the living room and slapped a hand on his shoulder while the officer beside Jeff wrote on a tablet. “Dude! This is nuts. They didn’t even have the decency to learn how to pick a lock. Your door is messed up, man.”
A glance confirmed Drake’s proclamation. Shards of wood splayed out from around the lock. Jeff knew what he’d be doing the rest of the day. A new door wasn’t cheap or fun to install, not to mention a new doorknob and a strong bolt would be on the list. He turned around and nodded at the officer. “Did they get any other apartments, too?”
“So far, just yours,” Drake answered. “That’s what the dude downstairs said.” Drake held up a finger. “I’m getting a phone call. Hello? Yeah, you got my text? Can you believe it?”
No, Jeff couldn’t believe it. His friend seemed to be enjoying the drama. He needed to instruct Drake to stop spreading the news among his friends. Jeff wasn’t even sure if he was telling people that Jeff knew personally, but the officer interrupted his intention. “Sir, we need you to check your room.”
Jeff followed the directive but still burned with curiosity. He entered his room with apprehension. Everything looked different, but he couldn’t pinpoint anything wrong. Perhaps it was simply the knowledge that a stranger had invaded his privacy. The navy comforter lay smooth, just as he had left it that morning. He fingered the top of the red oak dresser. Jeff had made the piece of furniture when he was seventeen years old. He knew where every nick and sloppy corner could be found within its four drawers. His comb and the small basket where he kept unrecorded receipts still sat in the middle, seemingly untouched.
He flung open the closet and breathed a sigh of relief. Underneath the thick comforter, folded neatly on the ground, sat his fire safe, untouched.
“They take your television?” The officer jotted notes on his clipboard.
“Uh, no. I don’t own a TV.”
The officer tilted his head. “Then they were after computers. I’ll need the make and model.”
Jeff spun around. “I did have a laptop. Left it in the living room.”
“Yeah, that’s gone.” The officer blinked slowly and then looked around the room. “Okay, so we know what they were after.”
Drake groaned, somehow having caught the tail end of the conversation. “That had all our skydiving video footage on it, didn’t it? Our clients are gonna freak.”
Jeff stared at the carpet. First, his car, now his laptop; it would take a long time to save up that kind of money again after paying the insurance deductibles.
“Are you sure that’s all?” the cop asked. Jeff followed the officer’s gaze around his room. With nothing on the walls, he supposed it did look bare bones to most. But the simplicity of his decor gave him plenty of room to do his morning stretching exercises before running or biking.
“Everything seems to be here,” Jeff acknowledged.
The officer nodded, and Jeff followed him back into the living room. Drake bumped into his shoulder, texting. “Drake!” Jeff often felt he needed to compete with Drake’s phone to have even the shortest of conversations. “What are you doing?”
“Texting what they took. Your computer. And that big batch of beef jerky you made yesterday. I only got to eat one piece. That was your best batch yet, and pretty pricey to make, too. Primo beef, man.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Thanks for noticing, Drake.”
“What flavor?” the cop asked.
“Jalapeño,” Drake answered for him.
The officer shook his head, jotting notes. “Animals.”
Drake held his hands out toward the officer. “This is what I’m saying. Thank you.”
Another officer walked into the apartment with Victoria at his side. “You done here?” With an official nod, the second officer directed Victoria to the couch in the living room.
“We need to ask you both a few questions.”
Jeff sank into his couch next to Victoria. Except, he felt anything but comfortable. Her eyes were brighter than usual, as if she’d been crying. He wanted to give her a hug, but it didn’t seem appropriate, and he got the sense she didn’t want any comfort from him. Victoria had always seemed to have an invisible wall up whenever they had a conversation at work, but it appeared the wall had grown stronger. He grimaced. She had come to him for help, and he hadn’t been able to fix anything.
The police interrupted his thoughts once more with their questions. He listened as Victoria repeated all that had happened over the past twenty-four hours. She included all her suspicions at work, and that’s when Jeff saw it. Skepticism was written all over the officers’ faces. Victoria turned her gaze to the ceiling.
“Why didn’t you take your suspicion to the FBI?” the lead officer pressed.
“I made an appointment for this morning,” she said, meekly. “Clearly none of this would’ve happened if I had insisted they see me yesterday, but it was almost after hours and wasn’t an emergency.”
“Who’s the appointment with?” the second officer asked.
“Agent Doug Brunson.”
The officer stood and pointed at her. “Make sure you get to that appointment.”
As the officer walked away a large hand slapped onto his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.” Jeff looked up to see Drake hovering. “I guess there are some benefits to being poor, if all they took was a laptop.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. Why’d Drake have to say stuff like that in front of Victoria? “I’m not poor, Drake. I choose to put my money elsewhere.”
“How about you use that money to call us in some Chinese food, then? I’ll wait here while you run to the hardware store.”
“It’s only nine in the morning,” Jeff responded, but his stomach betrayed him by choosing that moment to growl.
“See what I’m saying?” Drake pointed at Jeff while he walked backward to his kitchen. “I’ll find us some grub.” Drake’s phone vibrated, and he automatically answered. “Yeah, Dude. Bomb squad and everything.”
Jeff felt an ache develop in the back of his neck. Drake had more people to call about the burglary than Jeff. Sure, his phone was full of contacts, but no one was close enough he’d feel comfortable calling to tell them about his morning. Why would someone break into the apartment for a measly laptop and nothing else? He never took home files from Earth Generators. Victoria remained silent and rhythmically stroked Baloo’s back.
He took it as his cue to speak up. “I think they took the laptop because they thought I might have the evidence on it.”
She nodded. “I figured as much.”
“That’s why I’m coming to the FBI appointment with you.”
Her whole body straightened as if a heavy burden had just been lifted off her shoulders. “Really? You would do that for me?” She looked at Baloo. “I haven’t slept since probably one in the morning. I’m dragging and can’t think straight. Do you think we can swing by and get some coffee on the way to the Federal Building?”
Jeff laughed. “I think we could both use it. After this morning, we’re going to have to be on the lookout the entire way there.”
* * *
Victoria desperately wanted to close her eyes. “You sure Drake will be fine?” She checked the side mirror several times with each block. “It was nice of him to let us borrow his truck...especially given the circumstances.”
“Drake may come across as goofy, but believe it or not, the guy’s a genius. No doubt he’s worked up a plan by now. Besides, Drake makes friends wherever he goes. You heard him—he had that officer in the palm of his hand. When we left, they were talking about starting a beef jerky business together. Using my recipes.” Jeff laughed. “Hopefully, the officer will see reason after dropping Drake off. Besides, Drake has another car at his place.”
“You’re a chef, too?” she interjected. An image of cooking dinner shoulder to shoulder in his kitchen assaulted her imagination. If ever there were a job description for the perfect man for her, on paper, Jeff would qualify. And yet, she knew all too well that made him more of a risk.
“I dabble. Mostly a few signature dishes to feed myself and not much more.”
She put a hand on her forehead. Over and over in her mind’s eye she could see her car burst into flames. It never had, of course, thanks to the SWAT team and Jeff’s fast thinking, but it could’ve happened so easily. Victoria pointed to the closest strip mall. “They have a drive-through. I just need a moment to process all of this before the meeting.”
Jeff looked in the rearview mirror. “Did you see any glimpse of that Rover?”
She dug her fingers into the fabric upholstery on either side of her legs. “No. But that doesn’t mean much anymore, does it? If someone is willing to set your house on fire or bomb your car to kill you, surely they have the means to find a different vehicle.”
Jeff pulled the truck directly into the drive-through lane of her favorite coffee shop, The Groovy Bean. “Baloo seems comfy in the backseat.”
Victoria took a look for herself. Sure enough, Baloo was practically snoring in the backseat. He took up the entire length of the bench. “I feel the same way, buddy,” she mumbled.
They were second in line to be waited on, but Jeff’s constant sweeping of the area set her nerves on edge. He scratched his chin where a five-o’clock shadow had begun to form. She’d never seen him with facial hair before. She supposed he usually shaved in the morning—another reminder that she was interfering with his life. Although, she wondered what he would look like with a beard. Probably just as attractive, if not more.
He raised an eyebrow, and for a brief moment Victoria was worried she’d said her thoughts aloud.
“If they really wanted to kill us, why not shoot us?”
Victoria cringed. She didn’t want to acknowledge guns were a real possibility. “Maybe they wanted it to look like an accident?”
“No, I don’t think so. You can trace bomb materials.”
She stared at Jeff, letting her mind run. “What if the bomb was to get Charlie out of the building, so they could lure us somewhere else?”
“To kill us a different way?” Jeff scowled. “That’s what makes me nervous. I don’t think they care so much about making it look like an accident. Fires? Bombs?” He shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s why guns haven’t been a part of this. I doubt they would try anything again at my place now, though. There’s already evidence of a break-in.”
“I’m relieved we’re not dealing with snipers, or we might not be having this conversation.” Victoria peeked at the time on her smartphone. “You need time to fix your door today. And maybe you should install an alarm system.” Victoria reached for her wallet. “Fat lot of good that did me, though.”
“You had an alarm system at your house?”
She nodded. “Yep. My brother set that one up, too. Same sort of thing as the car alarm, but I couldn’t afford the big bucks for security cameras, and clearly whoever started the fire didn’t need access inside to light a match.”
He waved away her money. “This is my treat.” He pulled up to the sign with coffee choices. “On our way, let’s make sure we’re on the same page before you start talking to that agent. We need to give them every reason to take us seriously.”
“Especially without a lick of evidence.”
“Exactly why it’s time to bring out the big guns. I’m thinking a triple shot espresso. You?”
Victoria laughed. The sensation felt so foreign. Jeff grinned, and she couldn’t help but notice his eyes were deep brown—like dark chocolate—and her weakness for cocoa ran deep. “Chocolate,” she murmured.
He cocked his head. “Mocha, then?”
Her cheeks heated. “I’m not sure,” she stammered. “I’ll have what you’re having.”
Jeff handed her the largest salted caramel latte that money could buy and a side order of coffee cake. She allowed herself to enjoy Jeff’s company for the briefest of moments. The man was the epitome of handsome. His sun-kissed skin, the way the navy in his shirt made his eyes look darker, his thick wavy hair...
Jeff set his latte down a little too hard on the console between them, the small splash of liquid snapping her out of her daydream. His cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I got lost in my thoughts.”
She took a sip of coffee to hide her smile. Had he just caught himself thinking of her, too? Victoria’s mind flashed to her ex-boyfriend, Blake, a guy who was seemingly perfect on the outside—handsome, kind, funny and successful. Yet, if Victoria had ever acted as if he wasn’t the perfect man at all times, he’d flirt with the very next woman that crossed his path. Jeff wouldn’t do something like that—she was positive his integrity wouldn’t permit it—but she was also confident from what the ladies at work had told her that Jeff had major commitment issues. It was the reminder she needed to keep her thoughts in check. Besides, April made it clear she had her eyes set on him, so she needed to put Jeff out of her mind once and for all.
He set the truck in Drive. “I keep going over what you’ve told me, Victoria, and I have to say, if I put myself in Wagner’s shoes, I’d be upset you brought a personal flash drive into work.” He held up a hand. “Don’t get me wrong, Wagner didn’t handle it well. But while he reacted inappropriately, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s the mastermind behind all of this.”
It was as if Jeff had just punched her in the gut. Whatever temptation she’d ever had to think of him in a romantic light disappeared completely. “It was a company-issued flash drive, thank you very much.” She pointed firmly at the center of the console, as if the drive were physically there in front of them. “I have every right to transport files for work-related use. In fact, feel free to go ahead and quiz me, Mr. Tucker. You’ll find that I know the employee handbook backward and forward. I did nothing that crosses ethical boundaries or even violates company policy.”
Jeff’s features softened. “I didn’t mean to put you on the defensive, Victoria. I was trying to see the situation from every angle.” He sighed. “Wagner used to be a man I respected. I’ve been to his house in the foothills before.” He focused intently on the stoplight in front of him. “Up until now, I’ve always imagined him to be a man of professional integrity.”
“Professional integrity?”
Jeff shrugged. “I don’t know anything about his personal life. I heard rumors about a rich wife, but that’s just hearsay. He lives in a beautiful minimansion, but there weren’t any family photographs. Although, to be fair, it isn’t that out of the ordinary—my family never hung up any photographs either.”
Victoria traced the lid of her cup. “Sounds odd to me. I don’t think I’ve been in a family’s home that hasn’t had photographs on display.”
He tilted his head from side to side. “Well, I acknowledge that my family is a bit odd.”
Victoria wanted to ask a follow-up question about his family but wanted to avoid anything personal.
Jeff rubbed his chin. “Okay, forget Wagner. Let me try to think like the FBI will. Why didn’t you go to the audit committee when you first suspected something amiss?”
“The audit committee? The one made of board members?”
“Yes.”
“I think you just answered your own question. We don’t have a whistle-blower policy in place and—”
“Victoria, it’s federal law. You can’t be penalized if you—”
“You don’t need to tell me that, Jeff. I’m an accountant.” She took a deep breath. He’d asked her not to get defensive, and instead she snapped at him. If she wanted to keep him on her side, she needed to tame the emotional roller coaster. “There is no policy in place that allows employees to contact the board members without getting the attention of other people who might be behind fraud.”
“Because you have to go through the chain of command to contact the board members,” he mused aloud. Jeff tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “If you’re right, then what makes you think the board isn’t behind this?”
“Have you seen the list of members? They’re all former presidents of Fortune 500 companies. Not a single one of them would need to risk jail to get the kind of money we’re talking.” She pointed to her red purse. “Our management team has more motive. The CEO, CFO, COO...”
“We have way too many COs.”
“And four vice presidents,” she finished. “They could easily have a hand in this, but I think this type of fraud would require a department head on the inside to get the job done. Someone like Wagner.”
Victoria’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it. “That’s my reminder alarm. My appointment is in fifteen minutes. How far away is the Federal Building?”
He put a hand on his chest. “I believe you, but I didn’t get a chance to look at the report long enough to fully corroborate your story. So, if the authorities aren’t willing to give you protection tonight, I think you better plan to stay at a hotel.”
“Oh, but my neighbor—”
“Your neighbor is too easy to target. Just like you were in your house. I think you should get some cash from an ATM. Then you can stay at a hotel, without credit cards.”
She closed her eyes. What kind of hotel would let you check in with cash? A dive, that’s what. A yawn escaped her. An unbidden image of her home, then her bedroom, flashed in her mind. She took another sip of coffee and closed her eyes to keep the tears from escaping. She cleared her throat. “What about you? They know where you live now.” Her breath shuddered. Also her fault.
“I might stay at a friend’s or do the same as you. We’ll see how this meeting goes.”
Victoria mentally calculated the cost of a hotel. Thankfully, payday had only been last Friday. Yet she couldn’t count on getting a paycheck next week if her job was in question. Jeff took a sharp turn to the right, then did another visual sweep.
He pointed ahead. “An ATM.” He drove into the entrance of the drive-up ATM the wrong way so that Victoria would be within arm’s reach of the machine. She leaned out the window, slid in the bank card and entered the security code. It’d be wise to double-check her balance before cashing out a large amount. By now, all her monthly scheduled bill payments should’ve been withdrawn. She pressed the button to see her balance. Her mouth went dry. The numbers on the screen were shocking: $257,420.
She flung a hand to her mouth. How? A burning in the pit of her stomach prompted her eyes to well with tears. Whoever was behind the fraud—behind the fire and explosion—had done this. How would anyone believe her now? She couldn’t face the FBI with nothing but seeming proof that she was the culprit, the embezzler.
She sank back down into her seat and dropped her head into her hands.
