Taken by the Con Read online

  “I’m Georgiana,” Young’s assistant said. She blushed and lowered her face, looking up at Cash from under her eyelashes. Overselling it a bit, wasn’t she? Hot pink blouse with a tight, dark gray skirt suit and four-inch heels wrapped a neat, prim package. Lucia despised the pang of jealousy that struck her. Emotions didn’t belong in the field. She didn’t know if she was jealous because she wanted to be on the receiving end of Cash’s attention or because the woman looked like the delicate, polished lady Lucia couldn’t be.

  Neither one was a thought to harp on.

  For a moment, Lucia regretted the simple black pants and blue blouse she’d chosen that morning. She hadn’t bothered with jewelry or makeup, and her one-inch black heels weren’t anything that screamed sexy vixen.

  “Could I have a cup of coffee? I didn’t sleep well last night and I’m feeling foggy,” Cash said.

  Georgiana straightened and grinned at him as if he was a genie granting her a wish. “Oh, of course. How would you like it?” She said the last two words while giving Cash a long, lingering look. Cash had Georgiana eating out of his hand after ten seconds. Then again, Cash’s charisma and charm were legendary. Even Lucia had fallen for it, however momentarily, the night before.

  Georgiana was behaving as if Lucia wasn’t standing there or her presence didn’t matter. If Young’s assistant represented Holmes and White’s employee base, no wonder they’d been snowed. Lucia chastised herself for the nasty thought. What had happened at Holmes and White could have happened to anyone Clifton Anderson selected as his target.

  “Sugar and a little creamer. Thanks,” Cash said.

  Georgiana hurried off, not asking Lucia if she’d like something, as well.

  “Was that necessary?” Lucia asked.

  “Was what necessary?” He took a seat behind the woman’s desk and started looking around.

  “Flirting with her. And you can’t do that,” Lucia said, setting her hand over Cash’s to stop him from searching Georgiana’s desk.

  The heat that burned between them had Lucia stepping back. She had to keep these strong reactions to him in check.

  “Come on, boss. This stuff is in plain view,” Cash said. “What’s the harm if I take a look?”

  “Gray area,” Lucia said. Even if Georgiana were involved in the fraud, she wouldn’t have evidence that she’d leave on top of her desk with the FBI sniffing around.

  “Relax. I’m not looking to get anything entered into evidence. I want a little more insider knowledge and to get a sense of the people we’re dealing with,” Cash said.

  “The people we’re dealing with are the victims,” Lucia said.

  “Anderson could have had people on the inside. A well-placed assistant with a lower-paying job who could be bought off,” Cash said.

  Since Cash had worked with Clifton Anderson in the past, Lucia took note of the theory to explore later, though she had considered it herself. Many of the employees at Holmes and White had been questioned. Lucia would see if Georgiana was one of them.

  Cash removed a small pen from his pocket. She recognized it as one of the FBI’s camera pens.

  “Where did you get that?” she asked.

  “Renee in IT gave it to me. She heard I was doing some interviews today and thought it might come in handy. Which it does,” Cash said.

  No one in IT had ever given her a device to use in the field, at least, not without her prompting.

  After snapping some pictures, Cash took a seat in a chair outside Young’s office. “Is this what it’s like to be an FBI agent? Running around the city and interviewing people?”

  He made it sound easy. “Sometimes.” The work could be challenging and dangerous. Days like today were among the easier ones.

  “Come on, I’m being friendly.”

  “You’re making me hate that word,” Lucia said.

  “Then give me a chance to get on your good side,” Cash said.

  Everything he said sounded light and good-natured. It was almost harder to keep her dislike of him than to give in to his charm. “You don’t need to be on any of my sides,” Lucia said.

  “There’s one side of you in particular I’ve seen and really like,” Cash said, looking at her mouth.

  Her lips prickled and burned and she remembered how amazing kissing him had been. “You are something else,” Lucia said, trying to diffuse the blistering desire spreading down her body. She would not let down her defenses.

  “I think she would agree with you,” Cash said under his breath, rising to his feet and taking the coffee from Georgiana’s outstretched hands.

  Cash talked with Georgiana, leaning in and laughing at her lame jokes. Lucia pretended not to notice. Georgiana returned to her desk, wrote something on a piece of paper and handed it to Cash.

  “Call me,” Georgiana said. She ran her hand down his pale green tie, fisting it at the end and pulling him a little closer to her.

  Cash looked at the paper and then slipped it into his suit jacket pocket. He looked pleased and interested in the cute redhead.

  Annoyance burned through Lucia. Why was it so easy for some men to win over a woman?

  Lucia could think of a dozen snappy remarks to make about the exchange, but she kept her mouth shut. Saying anything would make her sound jealous and juvenile.

  “Tell me. I can hear you fuming,” Cash said, taking a seat next to her.

  “I’m not fuming,” Lucia said. “I’m observing.”

  “I’m establishing a rapport,” Cash said, the lightheartedness gone. “If she knows something about Young or the theft, I want to know it, too.”

  They waited in silence for twenty minutes before Leonard Young returned to his office. Twenty minutes of thinking about Cash when she should be thinking about the case. Twenty minutes of replaying that kiss. Twenty minutes of every nerve in her body being aware he was next to her and dancing excitedly about it.

  When Young returned, he had another man in tow.

  “I thought it would be a good idea to have our in-house attorney present for this conversation. He’s worried about lawsuits,” Young said, ushering them into his office. “Nothing’s been finalized with our clients and we have a lot of angry people waiting for a settlement.”

  Lucia’s bull-crap meter went off. A month ago, when the story went public, Holmes and White had publicly asked the FBI to assist and had reassured their team they’d be cooperative and open. A lawyer in attendance seemed like a defensive measure.

  Holmes and White were likely conducting their own internal investigation. If they’d stumbled on a mistake, they’d want to keep that under wraps. It was Lucia’s job to bring everything on the level.

  Young took a seat behind his large desk. His lawyer sat next to him, quiet and with a notepad poised on his lap.

  Sensing this interview would be a waste of time, Lucia introduced herself and Cash and then launched into her questions. She had not conducted the initial interviews with Young, but she had read them. To this point Young had been helpful but cautious. That hadn’t changed.

  Cash said nothing and his face was impossible to read. He appeared both indifferent and slightly amused.

  “How is your investigation progressing?” Young asked.

  Not as well as Lucia would have liked. Their team had tracked two percent of the stolen money to accounts within the United States. Those accounts had been frozen pending the FBI’s investigation. The rest of the money had disappeared. “We’re following every lead we have available.”

  “I’ll tell you whatever I can,” Young said.

  His lawyer shook his head and Young glanced at him. “I will tell you anything I can within reason.”

  Cash didn’t write anything. He didn’t fiddle. He didn’t look around the office or sneak another look at Georgiana. His eyes stayed rive
ted on Leonard Young and his lawyer.

  As Lucia expected, Young’s answer was “I don’t know” to almost every question. When he did answer, he gave disappointingly little information. For someone who wanted the money found, he was stingy with details. His behavior earned him a slot in Lucia’s “look into this much deeper” folder.

  “Thank you for your time, Mr. Young,” Lucia said after forty-five minutes of questions had yielded nothing new. “We’ll be in touch.”

  Lucia would need to find another way to approach Young or some other angle to use. Maybe she could get in touch with someone else in the company, perhaps someone lower on the food chain. Starting at the top wouldn’t have been her preferred technique, but Benjamin had suggested Young and had warned her to keep things friendly. This case had many victims, and the public and media were watching closely.

  Once they were outside the Holmes and White building, Cash spoke for the first time since before the interview.

  “You know he’s lying, right?” Cash asked.

  “What makes you think that?” Lucia asked. She suspected Young was withholding information, but Cash was along to lend his insights.

  “He has a tell. It took a few questions for me to notice. He looks at his left ring finger and then he lies. Interestingly, his ring finger is bare. Is he married?” Cash asked.

  “According to the file we have on him, yes,” Lucia said.

  “He’s cheating on her,” Cash said.

  “How do you know that?” Lucia asked.

  “Gut feeling. He had this way of answering the questions. He thinks he’s in control and he thinks he can do whatever he wants.”

  Interesting observation. Arrogance and control went with the territory. “We’ll follow up.”

  “Do you want me to call Georgiana? I could take her to dinner and see if I can learn anything from her.”

  Imagining Cash on a dinner date with the beautiful, younger woman annoyed her and Lucia couldn’t answer that question objectively. “Talk to Benjamin about it.”

  “Is that how this partnership will work? You’ll pass me off when you don’t want to discuss something?” Cash asked.

  Lucia continued toward the car. “It’s not a partnership. Benjamin sent us out together to handle these interviews. In future tasks, hopefully you’ll be assigned to work with someone else.”

  “I like working with you,” he said.

  “Why?” Lucia asked, drawing to a stop and looking at him. Few others did. Either she was accused of going by the book or being too impulsive.

  “Why do I like working with you?” he asked.

  At her nod, he rubbed his chin. “You’re smart. You’re strong. You’re spunky.”

  “Spunky?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “You’re making this fun.”

  She sensed something unsaid. “I guess that’s something. I think you’re angling for something from me and I need to be up-front with you. I feel badly about your son and I appreciate that you were honest about your situation, but I won’t interfere in a domestic matter.”

  He blinked at her and held up his hands. “Understood.”

  “Let’s finish these interviews. Don’t you have a happy hour to attend?”

  * * *

  Preston Hammer’s Georgetown townhouse was located in a small community where ten million was the going price for houses. Hammer’s was four townhomes gutted and converted into one large, stately unit. Lucia knocked on the door, surprised when Hammer answered the door himself.

  Lucia showed him her badge. “We spoke on the phone, Mr. Hammer.” She introduced herself and Cash.

  Hammer stepped back from the door and gestured for them to come inside. The interior wasn’t what Lucia was expecting. The foyer was stacked with brown moving boxes, each labeled in precise printing.

  “Relocating?” Lucia asked.

  Hammer gestured at the grand Juliette staircase, oak handrails, the shiny hardwood floors and the insets along the wall containing artwork illuminated with custom lighting. “Do you think I can afford to live here? After what Holmes and White did to me, I’m lucky I have food to eat.” He mumbled something else under his breath Lucia didn’t catch. “Come into the kitchen. We can talk there.”

  Cash wandered over to one of the pieces on the wall. “Is this a Monet?”

  “Interested? It’s headed to auction in a few days,” he said. Hammer started down the hall and Lucia and Cash followed.

  “That artwork is probably worth more than this place,” Cash whispered to Lucia.

  One of Cash’s areas of expertise was art forgeries. If Hammer was liquidating his assets, he hadn’t saved much of his eight-figure salary for a rainy day.

  The kitchen was large, extending almost the length of the houses. Butler’s pantry, gleaming granite countertops and maple cabinets indicated luxury living.

  “Your former employer tells us you were let go because Clifton Anderson reported to you,” Lucia said. Leonard Young had also implied that Hammer should have caught the accounting fraud before it reached massive proportions. She dangled the information to garner his reaction.

  “Anderson did report to me. He also reported to ten other managers between his level and me. No one caught him. I was the scapegoat. Highest paid non-executive. Holmes and White wants me to take the fall.”

  Lucia didn’t want Hammer to become so mired in anger that he couldn’t answer her questions. “Clifton Anderson is good at what he does. Holmes and White isn’t the first firm he’s duped during the course of his career,” Lucia said.

  Hammer walked to the wet bar and opened the top cabinet. “Doesn’t change anything. They needed someone near the top to take the heat. The press has been all over me. Do you know how many death threats I receive every day? Angry people want their money back.” He threw a glass against the wall and it shattered. “News flash! I don’t have the money. I don’t have a dime to my name. Where do these people think I invested my money? The same place they did. Anderson robbed me right along with everyone else.”

  That explained where Hammer’s money had gone. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucia said. Hammer had been through an ordeal, but his reactions were overly volatile. Was he under the care of a psychiatrist? On medication?

  “What about you two?” Hammer pointed at Cash. “Are you working this or did your boyfriend tag along in case I went crazy?” Hammer took another glass and set it on the counter.

  Denials about Cash’s relationship with her sprang to mind. Remembering her training, Lucia checked her words before she spoke. Defensiveness would make her look like a liar. “I already explained that this is my colleague.”

  “He didn’t show me a badge,” Hammer said, pouring a large amount of scotch into the glass.

  “I’m not an FBI agent. I’m a consultant,” Cash said.

  Hammer took a long swig from his drink. If it wasn’t his first of the day it would explain his strange, erratic behavior. Most people didn’t think it was wise to question the FBI while they were investigating a crime in which they were involved. “Right. You can call him a consultant if you want.” Hammer took another swallow of his drink. “You two are sleeping together.”

  If he hoped making accusations would throw her off the reason she’d come, he was wrong. “I’m here to learn more about Anderson and what it was like to work with him. If you’re planning to make incorrect guesses about people, then we can finish this interview at headquarters.” No one liked making the trip to the FBI’s interrogation room.

  Hammer set his glass down hard. “I’ll tell you what I know, but there’s nothing new that I haven’t already told you people a dozen times.”

  Lucia walked Hammer through what he knew about Anderson and how the scheme had unfolded. He didn’t reveal anything she hadn’t read in the case file. While she
spoke, Cash wandered to the sliding glass door and looked out into the yard. She didn’t blame him for being drawn to sunlight and the outdoors.

  “Tell me more about being in the upper echelon at Holmes and White,” Cash said, turning away from the door as the conversation lagged.

  Hammer poured himself another drink. He wasn’t pouring more than a finger or two at a time, but he was drinking steadily. “Imagine being the king of your own domain with a personal assistant to take care of your every need. You hire people and you fire them at will. You’re available around the clock, but when you have down time, it’s spectacular. Five star hotels and the best restaurants in town. Wine and women and parties. I lived the life and I loved it.”

  Lucia let Cash continue to engage with Hammer. She sensed this could be a topic Hammer was more comfortable discussing with Cash.

  “What happened to your personal assistant?” Cash asked.

  Hammer stiffened. He let out a long breath before answering. “She was fired the same day I was.”

  Hammer slid his drink back and forth between his hands. “Keep her out of this. She didn’t do anything wrong. She signed the nondisclosures and the confidentiality agreements. She left town and is living with her parents while she puts her life back together.” He sounded like a heartbroken teenager.

  Lucia would follow up on Hammer’s personal assistant. She remembered reading about her in previous interviews and her instincts tingled that the FBI hadn’t heard her whole story. What was her name? Kresley? Katie?

  “It must be hard to have lost so much so quickly,” Cash said.

  Hammer looked at the table and then lifted his head slowly. His eyes were rimmed with unshed tears. Compassion tugged at Lucia’s chest. Was Hammer a hapless victim of Clifton Anderson or had he been involved in the fraud? Neither the media nor the FBI could directly connect him to any legal wrongdoing. Unless he was hiding the money well, Hammer hadn’t been paid for any assistance he’d given Clifton Anderson.