BLACK in the Box (29 page)

Bethany lowered her eyes and nodded. She understood perfectly. “You won’t. This was a onetime experience.”

The cop turned back to Bethany’s new escort and tossed him a bag with her things in it. “Get her out of my sight.”

“Come on,” the man said, and strode across the room, tailed by Bethany.

She noticed, as she had at all her meetings with Rogers, that his shoes were shined to a mirror gleam. Rogers was an FBI agent, what rank she wasn’t sure, but he obviously commanded a lot of clout. He didn’t say anything until they were outside. She squinted against the bright sunlight, and Rogers handed her the bag. She fished out a pair of sunglasses and slid them over her eyes, and they continued to his vehicle.

“Where’s my car?” she asked, her voice as shaky as her legs.

“In the impound lot. One thing at a time.”

Rogers was driving an anonymous Ford sedan, and she slipped into the passenger seat as he rounded the hood and opened the driver’s door. She waited until he was seated and the engine running before turning to him.

“I’m so sorry I had to call you.”

“You’re lucky I was in town.”

“Crap. I didn’t even think about that.”

“You didn’t do a whole lot of thinking at all last night, did you?”

Her lips thinned to a line and she shook her head slowly. He put the transmission in reverse and backed out of the space before speaking.

“All right. I’m going to scrub any record of your arrest, but we’re going to have it in our files, and we can reactivate it and press charges if you screw us. That’s the first thing. The second is that I just got a call – the card skimming gear was discovered, so that phase of the operation is dead. From now on we’ll supply you with credit card data so you can keep the Russian on the hook.”

Rogers had recruited Bethany as a snitch three months earlier in a sting operation when she was buying drugs from her neighbor. They’d identified her before as a frequent visitor to the Russian, and had made her an offer she couldn’t refuse: work for the FBI and help them gather enough to shut down the mob cell for good, or go to jail for a long, long time – her prints were all over the disks and flash drives she’d passed on to Rudi, so she had no real choice. She knew it put her in serious jeopardy, but at the same time, it wasn’t like she could run, so she had to do what was necessary to keep Rogers happy.

“They got everything?”

“We’re doing damage control as we speak. It’ll never make the papers – you don’t have to worry. As far as Rudi is concerned, we only need a few more meetings to identify everyone else in the ring. So play nice with him for now, and soon this will all be over.”

“Won’t his people want to get me?”

Rogers shook his head. “You’re a pawn, nothing more. The rest of his gang doesn’t even know you exist. You’re just a tool they use to get what they want.”

“There’s a lot of that going on.” She stared out the window. “Are we going to the yard?”

“That’s the next stop.”

“I saw him yesterday. He said he didn’t want to buy any more data until things cooled down.”

“We know. But after a week or two goes by, he’ll get complacent again. Nothing in the papers, life goes back to normal. You tell him you’re running the skimming gear now, that you know how to do it, so the arrangement’s the same.”

“You think he’ll go for that?”

Rogers looked pointedly at her skimpy top and smooth, tanned skin. “Convince him.”

She nodded mutely.

Rogers’ gaze returned to the road. “There’s another matter that was more concerning, though, but it looks like you dodged that bullet. Up until a few hours ago, you were the number one suspect for your buddy Alec’s murder. They were going to charge you this morning, but they’ve had a change of heart.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Something about being found with the murder weapon in your hand.”

“But I didn’t kill him!”

“While it’s refreshing to hear a murder suspect insist they didn’t do it, I’m afraid that’s not unknown.”

“What happened to change their mind?”

“They nailed the murderer. Or at least, they think they did.”

“Really? Who was it?”

“Guy named Brent. Or possibly the security guard – Henry.”

“They don’t know which?”

“Not definitively. Henry’s vanished. And Brent’s dead.”

“Dead! How?”

“He shot at the wrong guy.”

They drove in silence until they reached the yard. When they arrived, Rogers parked and gave her a hard look. “Don’t screw up any more, Bethany. I’m not your bitch, nor is the bureau your get-out-of-jail-free card. We did this because you’re still useful, no other reason. Next time, you’re on your own. You aren’t that valuable.”

“I won’t. I promise.” And for once, Bethany wasn’t trying to calculate an edge. She could tell Rogers meant it; and she did too.

For now.

In the meantime, she had another project planned: extracting a small fortune from Larry. She’d go to work on it after she got some sleep and had a few bong loads.

But the prick was dead meat, and he’d pay through the nose for underestimating her.

Chapter 57

One day later, Los Angeles, California

Larry entered the darkened dining room of one of Beverly Hills’ most exclusive restaurants, which was closed until evening, when a who’s who of glittering starlets and powerful moguls would dine on wildly overpriced delicacies in a decadent celebration of all things excessive. He followed a man in a nondescript suit whose knuckles threatened to drag on the imported marble at any moment.

Four men sat at one of the tables in the back of the room. All were middle-aged, obese, and had cocktails on the table in front of them. Larry nodded to them, and the one closest to him motioned to a chair. “Larry, take a seat. We were just talking about you.”

“Hell of a thing, huh?” Larry said as he sat.

The speaker, Gino Loretti, gave a small shrug and reached for a silver bowl of mixed nuts. “Yeah. Them’s the breaks. Shit happens. You roll with it.”

One of the others, Tommy Caprese, sat forward and stared at Larry with eyes the color of lead. “Little bird told me the cops found a bunch of skag in your place, Larry. What kinda operation you running outta there? Got some sidelines you didn’t want to share with your partners?”

Larry blanched. “I had no idea. It was some sort of Asian drug ring, near as we can tell. Two of the men disappeared yesterday – both Chinese.”

Caprese nodded. “Between the killings and the dope, we gotta shut down our racket. Lotta people are pissed off about that, Larry. A lot.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Yeah, I know. Like I said, I don’t take it personal. Besides, we got another angle we can work. Bigger.”

“Really? What?”

“You’re going to go public, Larry.”

Larry tilted his head. “Public?”

“That’s right. Big expansion plans, going to do leveraged buyouts and roll-ups of promising locations, the whole nine yards.”

“I…I don’t know much about that, guys.”

“Don’t worry. You’re just a pretty face. I got a crew flying out who do this. They’ll handle everything. Sanitize your books, make you look legit, the works.”

“What’s the racket?”

“You raise a ton of cash in your initial public offering, which my buds take out to the street and make a big cut of the profit for their time. Then they talk you up like you’re the next Walmart, and get a buncha dimwits to buy the stock for more, more, more. We sell ’em tons of it, and then we short it so when it crashes and burns, we make out like bandits.”

“But…how do I make out if it craters?”

“You? You’re lucky you aren’t going swimming with an engine block strapped to your chest.”

“Will I get some stock?”

“Of course. How would it look if the glorious leader didn’t get a big chunk?”

“Then I can sell it while it’s going up and make money that way.”

Loretti shook his head. “No. You’ll be locked up. Can’t sell for a year or two. Doesn’t matter, by that time it’ll be toilet paper.” Loretti took a sip of his highball. “We’ll set you up with a bank. You’ll borrow lots of money. It’ll vanish. Some of your product will disappear off the loading dock every week. By the time the dust settles, the stores will be history.” Loretti looked over his glass at Larry. “And you’ll have learned not to get too big for your britches.”

“But…I’ll be ruined.”

Loretti shrugged again. “Like I said, shit happens. You got no choice.”

“What if I…” Larry didn’t finish the thought.

“Larry, lemme explain something. I got a sworn statement your little skank gave to the cops. Talks about how you been bangin’ her all over your house, at your apartment, how you’re gonna leave your wife. You want that gets sent to her? She’ll cut your balls off and stuff ’em down your throat, and that’ll be just for starters. Be a good boy and do as you’re told. You made a fortune so far – you don’t need to make more. Don’t be an ingrate.”

Caprese nodded in agreement. “That’s right. Wasn’t us screwed up everything. Now get outta here. We got other stuff we need to deal with.”

The four men watched Larry leave, his steps defeated, and Caprese looked at Loretti. “Think he’ll try something?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. He’ll find someone to figure out a way to get loans using his stock as collateral, or have someone short the stock for him. Our boy will be just fine. He’s slick as hell.”

“Is he gonna have an accident after it’s all over? Maybe decide to end it all?”

Loretti smiled, and the effect was chilling. “What do you think?”

The men laughed and Caprese pointed at his glass. One of the bodyguards lurking in the dark at the bar nodded and made his way to them as they turned to other matters, Larry’s fate sealed.

Chapter 58

Two weeks later, Los Angeles, California

Nancy was standing at the international counter in LAX waiting to check her bag when two heavyset men in suits approached her from behind. One of them took her arm and held out a badge that said Homeland Security.

“Nancy Goldman?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered, confused.

“You’re under arrest.”

“What? What for?”

“Just come with us. Don’t make a scene.”

“What does Homeland Security want with me? This must be some sort of mistake,” she protested.

“I’m afraid not. Is that your bag?” The man inclined his head at a bulging suitcase.

“Yes.”

The second man took it, and they walked Nancy out to a waiting black Suburban. The first man read Nancy her rights while the second put the suitcase in the back of the SUV. He returned and cuffed her, and they put her in the rear seat. The first man sat beside her while the second made for the driver’s side.

“I really don’t understand what you’re doing. Now I’m going to miss my flight,” she complained.

“Right. Your flight to Istanbul.”

“You guys have your wires crossed. Since when is it a problem to fly to Turkey?”

“You’ve been on the Internet a lot, researching Iraq, haven’t you?”

“So?”

“And you’ve been in communication with Iraq nationals in and around Mahmudiyah. Asking about guides.”

“What if I have? Is any of that illegal?”

“We know you’re planning to join ISIS, Nancy. There’s been a lot of that craziness lately. That makes you an enemy of the state and a terrorist.”

Her eyes widened. “You people have lost your minds. I was planning to go to Iraq, yes. But to find my fiancé’s gold.”

“His gold,” the agent repeated flatly.

“That’s right. There’s a bunch of Saddam’s gold hidden in Iraq, and I’m going to retrieve it. There’s no law against treasure hunting, is there?”

The agent laughed. “Better come up with a more plausible story than that. You’re in a lot of trouble.”

“But it’s true!”

“Sure it is.”

The driver pulled into traffic with a chuckle, and Nancy sank into the seat, her wrists already hurting from the cuffs, unsure of how to proceed, the truth having done her no good so far. She’d heard stories of people being incarcerated for years on suspicion of terrorism charges, with no trial and no access to a lawyer, and as the big vehicle rolled onto the freeway north, the reality of the situation hit her like a Mack truck.

Guilty or innocent probably didn’t matter much to these goons, especially in the current climate, where you were presumed guilty just by virtue of being suspected of something.

Nancy tried again. “Look, you have no proof I’m doing anything illegal. You can’t hold me. I know my rights. This is bullshit.”

The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror. “Got quite a mouth on you, don’t you? Probably want to keep it shut, or it’ll get way worse from here.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” she insisted.

“Then you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

Both men laughed, and her stomach twisted in a knot.

She was screwed.

Chapter 59

Los Angeles, California

Black and Sylvia were enjoying the wind in their hair as Black drove down a glittering Sunset Strip toward his parents’ hotel. They’d gotten back home three nights ago, and after a well-deserved rest, Sylvia had convinced Black that he couldn’t just avoid Spring and Chakra, which had been his operating plan when she’d asked how he intended to handle them.

When they’d arrived in Switzerland, Sylvia’s parents had been lukewarm towards Black, but Sylvia had assured him that they were like that with everyone and not to take it personally. He’d gotten into the spirit of the thing, shaking off the mind-numbing temperature and the insane prices and burning through most of his money, but was happier for it.

Following a rocky trip across the Atlantic that had involved a lot of Black pointing out that he was committed or he would have never followed her to the ends of the earth, Sylvia had finally thawed, and she’d been positively glowing by the time they’d waved goodbye at the airport.

The California sun had never felt so good to Black. Switzerland had struck him as meticulously clean, and the food was excellent, but the skies had remained a dull gray the entire trip, and he wasn’t planning a return to Zurich any time soon.