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Authors: C.J. Miller

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BOOK: Taken by the Con
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“Benjamin will ask how our meeting went,” Cash said.

Would Cash tell him about the kiss? Would it matter? How her boss and colleagues saw her was important to her. Her reputation had been tarnished when she was moved from the high-profile violent-crime division to the lower visibility of the white-collar division. She had so much riding on this case. She had to prove she was a good agent. A great agent. “I’ll tell him it went fine and we won’t have any issues working together.”

“I think we might have an issue,” Cash said. “You’ll have to keep your hands off me.”

She sputtered.

“Come on, Lucy, I was joking. Lighten up.”

“Don’t call me Lucy. It’s Lucia.”

“Can’t we be friendly, Lucia?” he asked.

“If saying yes will get you out of my home, then yes.”

“That’s not very friendly,” Cash said. He looked around the condo. “Do you mind if I go out on the balcony?”

And invade her space further? “I’d prefer that you leave.”

“I spent the last four years in a cage and the last thirty seconds having my mind blown by a topless FBI agent. Let me grab some fresh air and cool down.” He strode to the balcony and opened the double doors leading outside.

“Fresh air is also available on your walk home,” she said.

“Come here a minute,” Cash said. “Please.”

The word
please
surprised her. Until now, he had been bold and confident. He hadn’t seemed like the type to ask, but rather that he would expect she do as he requested.

She walked to the balcony. He was a difficult man to say no to. His eyes and voice beckoned like a siren song—a very hot, very male siren.

“Look up,” he said, pointing to the sky.

She did and the sight took her breath away. The moon was bright and full, and stars filled the sky. How long had it been since she took a moment to enjoy her view? “The full moon explains that kiss.”

Cash put his arm around her shoulders. “Whatever story you want to tell, I’m game.”

She shrugged off his arm. “We can’t be friends. I don’t make friends at work.” Easier to define her role in clear terms and not wonder why no one looped her into their personal lives.

Cash took a deep breath. “Whatever you say, boss.”

He sounded sad and a touch of compassion brushed her. He seemed to be enjoying the view. What harm would it do to stand out on the balcony for a few minutes?

“I guess you aren’t married,” Cash said.

Prying, but she allowed the question. “I’m not married.” She had once been close to being someone’s wife, but it had been years since she’d dated or had much of a social life. Since the heartbreak of her broken engagement, she’d changed focus and had sacrificed a private life for her career. She now enjoyed being alone. She liked her space and preferred to do whatever she wanted with her free time and not feel guilty about working late.

“I was married once,” Cash said.

A personal conversation was unnecessary. She didn’t want to share details of her own misadventures in love. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You said you’re worried you can’t trust me. I’m giving you a reason to trust me.”

“That reason is what?” Lucia asked. “That you convinced some woman to marry you and now she has to live as your ex?”

“Not ex-wife. My late wife. She died in a car accident.”

She was a jerk of the worst kind. She’d gotten prickly and snarky and run her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Cash held up his hand. “Please don’t apologize. It was years ago and I’m okay now. But we have a son.”

Benjamin hadn’t said anything about Cash’s personal life and Lucia found herself riveted by what Cash was sharing with her, even as traces of doubt slipped through her thoughts. “Where’s your son?” she asked, scared of the answer. Cash had been in prison. His wife was dead. What had happened to the little boy?

“He lives with my wife’s mom. If I stay out of trouble and make a life for him, the court may let him live with me. That’s how you know I won’t betray you. My son is my life and getting him back means everything to me. Next time you worry about me running away, know that I have everything that matters riding on making this job work.”

* * *

Cash hated being chained to the FBI office in Washington, DC, and he hated the place where he was living. He hated being a free man in name only. He hated his crappy motel room where he was forced to live. He hated the tiny stipend the FBI paid him that kept him from enjoying any part of life. But most of all, Cash hated being away from his son. Adrian lived in Seattle, Washington. He was ten years old, a fifth grader, and he loved soccer and martial arts. Thank God Helen had written Cash weekly, sending along pictures of Adrian while Cash had served his time in jail. Those letters and photos were the only possessions Cash cared about. Adrian had visited him once in prison, but the visit had given the little boy nightmares for weeks after, and Cash and Helen had agreed it was healthier not to bring Adrian again.

Since learning he’d be turned out on the FBI’s release-and-reform program, Cash had been begging Helen to bring Adrian to DC to see him. Without money for the trip, and while he was living in a fleabag motel room, Helen thought Adrian was better off in Seattle. Helen had a life in Seattle and she didn’t have the resources or desire to pick up and move across the country, even temporarily.

At least Adrian’s cancer hadn’t returned, making the jail time well worth it. The experimental surgery and treatments had saved his life. Cash had broken the law and he’d made a deal with the devil, but his son was healthy. To his way of thinking, the end had justified the means.

He’d purchased a phone card from a nearby gas station and used the pay-per-call landline in his room to call Helen in Washington.

“Hi, Helen. It’s Cash. Is Adrian around?” Cash asked.

“Cash, honey, are you safe? I’ve been praying for you.”

He was as safe as he could be living in a motel that advertised hourly rates. “I’m fine. I’m hoping to have a better place by the end of the month. I’m saving every penny and as soon as I can, I’ll send a plane ticket to Adrian so he can visit.”

There was a heavy pause and then the sound of a door creaking open and crickets chirping. Helen had stepped onto her porch and out of Adrian’s earshot. “Cash, I’ve cared for and loved this boy for the last four years. I don’t feel right sending him across the country without me.”

Cash’s heart squeezed hard in his chest. She had legal rights to Adrian, but Cash had to have his son back in his life. He was tied to DC for three more years. Three more years lost of his son’s childhood. He couldn’t stand that. “Please, Helen. Don’t keep my boy from me.” He couldn’t keep his voice from breaking.

“I’m not keeping him from you. I’m trying to do what’s best for Adrian. He’s finally doing better in school and making friends. I can’t tear him away from that.”

Adrian was best with him. “Tell me what I need to do and I’ll do it.”

“We’ve discussed that. It’s not only your living situation and the money. It’s how he’ll feel about seeing you. You remember the nightmares he had after the last time. He doesn’t know you. You’re a stranger to him.”

He was a stranger to his son. It was a knife hit to the heart. “I’ll buy plane fare for both of you. Put you up in a hotel. Whatever you need for you both to be comfortable.” He was desperate and he knew he sounded it.

“Let’s start with a talk. Let me get him.”

Cash waited, feeling dizzy and sick. He had missed Adrian every minute he was in prison. It was torture being away from his son. If there had been any other way to save his son’s life and not break the law, he would have taken it.

Helen came back on the phone. “I’m sorry, Cash. He’s tired and doesn’t want to talk now.”

Cash squeezed his eyes shut. His throat was tight. “Thanks for asking. Please tell Adrian I love him and I miss him. I’m working on things here. I really am.”

“I know you are, Cash. I know you’re trying.”

He said his goodbyes and disconnected the phone. Looking around his room, he didn’t feel defeat. He would find a way. All that stood between him and his son was money and 2,700 miles. He’d close the gap. He had to.

He had a few hours until his 11:00 p.m. curfew, and Cash fled his room to walk alone on the dark street. He refused to think of the motel as home. The drug dealers that hung out in the parking lot made it unlikely that he could rest easy. The noise and constant fights in other rooms were disturbing. But, he’d been in prison for four years. Outside was good. Outside was the most wonderful place with fresh air and endless sky.

Cash didn’t have money for a cab and he didn’t have a car. The rules of his release prevented him from traveling unescorted farther than ten miles away and his movements were tracked by the FBI via the GPS tracking device he wore around his ankle. Benjamin would have a report emailed to him the next morning detailing every step Cash had taken.

He kept his pace brisk, loving the openness of the sidewalk. He saw a help-wanted sign in the window of a deli. Maybe a second job could help with his money problems.

His old contacts could increase his cash flow by sending some jobs his way, but Cash was finished with that life. He didn’t want money from running cons. Every penny he earned for his new life with his son would be earned legally.

Turning down a familiar street, he realized he’d been walking in the direction of the house where he’d grown up. The house where he believed his father still lived. Not looking to dredge up buried memories or walk in old footsteps, he changed directions.

This was a fresh start. Another one. When he’d married Britney and talked her into moving to DC, he’d promised to leave behind contact with the criminal world. His single foray back into that world had been to save Adrian’s life.

Benjamin knew about Adrian, but he’d said he needed Cash in DC, working to find Clifton Anderson. The faster they closed the case, the sooner Cash had more options. At least, that was what Cash was telling himself.

To ease some of the hurt in his chest, he forced his thoughts away from his son and they turned instead to Lucia Huntington. He’d find out why she had a chip on her shoulder. From what he’d gathered from the others, she carried power in the organization, although she was quiet and didn’t seem close to anyone in the office.

He’d win her over. Having an enemy in Lucia could mean his return to prison. Having a friend in her could mean a transfer to an FBI field office closer to Adrian after the case was closed and maybe even a raise. The more money he could sock away, the faster his son was back in his life.

As attracted to her as he was, Lucia seemed equally put off by him. She was the first woman he’d met since his late wife who got him hot under the collar. She was smart, sophisticated and articulate. It didn’t hurt that she was gorgeous. Brown hair and deep brown eyes, delicate features and lips that on some women might look too big. On her, it worked, drawing his attention, making him think about the things she could do with her mouth. She was put together and in control, but he sensed that, if she allowed it, passion and heat would come roaring out. He’d gotten a peek at her bare midriff, which showed him enough to say she had a body to match her face. It was rare to cross paths with a woman who was the complete package. He wondered why she was distant from the team. A professional code of conduct or was something else at play?

He crossed the street and walked past a man and his dog sleeping on the cement steps outside a church, both curled near the railing. Cash reached into his pocket and pulled out the rest of the cash Benjamin had given him that morning. It wasn’t much, about thirteen dollars and some change. He tucked it under the man’s hand.

“Thank you,” the man muttered. His dog whimpered.

“You’re welcome,” Cash said.

He’d been there. He’d been that down and out. He hadn’t had anyone to help him. But he was resourceful. He would find a way to make a good life for himself and Adrian.

Chapter 2

“W
e may have more success if you don’t flash your badge at everyone we pass,” Cash said, after Lucia had shown her identification to the guards working the security desk at Holmes and White, the company Clifton Anderson had defrauded into near ruin.

Lucia whirled to look at him. Though he’d been quiet on the ride from headquarters, she didn’t appreciate his criticism. She was irritated enough that Benjamin had assigned her and Cash as teammates for the day’s assignments.

“I’m not here to con anyone,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I’m here to speak to Clifton Anderson’s victims. I’m identifying myself because I’m on their side.” She had interviewed dozens of victims. She knew what she was doing.

Cash lifted a brow at her.

“Do you find this funny? Because nothing about this is funny. People lost their homes, their pensions, their savings and their college funds over this. Regular people. Teachers. Nurses. Police officers. Everyone who trusted this place lost everything. We have to find this money for them.”

Cash frowned. “I take this seriously. I know what was lost. I have a way I do things. Getting upset changes nothing.”

Lucia took a deep breath. She’d been told she could be a stickler for the rules and policies and procedures. If she and Cash were going to survive this, she needed to give him some latitude. It was one afternoon. She could do anything for one afternoon.

Cash folded his arms over his chest. “Did you see the security guard’s reaction when you told him you were with the FBI? He got nervous. He was worried.”

Lucia was accustomed to people having a reaction to her badge. “I got what I wanted. I was let through without any fanfare.”

“He’s no doubt calling ahead to give warning we’re on our way to the top floor.”

“It’s not a secret that we’re investigating the embezzlement. There’s nothing to give warning about.” The FBI was working under the assumption that the C-level managers at Holmes and White wanted the culprits found and the stolen money recovered.

Cash took her elbow and moved her to the side of the hallway, out of the way of a passing group of employees. “Let’s not leave time for preparations. The most telling reactions are the most impromptu.”

Benjamin’s voice rang in her head. He wanted her and Cash to get along. Benjamin seemed set on the idea that their skill sets complemented each other. Lucia had the sense they’d been partnered for today’s interviews as a test. If they made it through the two interviews Benjamin had assigned them without killing each other, it was a success. Lucia wouldn’t let Cash make her lose her cool or fail in Benjamin’s eyes.

“I will hold back on showing my badge to too many people. Happy?” She pulled her elbow away from him. Touching was off-limits, especially after the kiss last night. She didn’t know how he’d convinced her it was a good idea, but it wouldn’t happen again.

“Thank you. Has anyone else mentioned you look hot when you’re fired up about something?”

She gave him a cutting glower. “My colleagues don’t talk to me that way.”

“I wasn’t asking about your colleagues. I was asking about people in your personal life.”

Sad to admit, even if it was only to herself, she wasn’t sure any man besides Cash had ever called her “hot.”

“That’s not a conversation we’ll have right now.” Or ever.

They stepped onto the elevator and Lucia pressed the button for the top floor, where Holmes and White’s CEO, Leonard Young, had his office. Her arm brushed Cash’s and Lucia increased the distance between them.

Every time the elevator stopped at a floor and people entered and exited, Cash seemed to flirt and smile at every woman, especially the pretty, young, well-dressed ones. It bothered Lucia to watch. Given the long over-the-shoulder looks they shot his way, these women would be all over him if given the chance.

Lucia and Cash got off the elevator. Young’s office was directly ahead. The cube farm around them was empty. Layoffs had been an immediate fallout of Holmes and White’s recent financial problems.

Young’s assistant stopped them in front of his office’s beveled glass doors.

“Mr. Young had to step away from his desk. Do you mind waiting here until he returns?” She gestured to the cluster of leather chairs along the wall.

“No problem,” Cash said and flashed her a smile. “I’m David Stone.” They had agreed Cash would use his real name while working with Lucia to avoid rumors floating on the street about Cash Stone being employed by the FBI. Cash Stone, son of the notorious con man and who’d become a con man himself, was well-known. To her knowledge, Cash hadn’t ripped off anyone on the same scale that Clifton Anderson had, but the con that had landed him in jail had stolen fifty thousand dollars from a senator’s real estate company. The company bought run-down foreclosures, made repairs and flipped the houses for big profits. The senator had been friends with the judge on Cash’s case, so he’d had the book thrown at him. Hard.

“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 riveted 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.”

BOOK: Taken by the Con
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