Deadly Deception Read online

  “They don’t show up on my database as being registered which means they may engage in fraudulent business practices. To get registered, a professional must pass required tests and a background check. Registered firms submit to periodic examinations and supervision by regulators.”

  “Checking registration sounds like the first thing a potential investor should do.”

  “Registration is not a guarantee that fraud won’t occur. But in many cases, investors have recourse if they become victims.”

  “Have there been complaints filed against Toby or his firm?”

  “None show in our records.”

  “I plan to meet these people at their office to see if they have a legitimate operation.”

  “Don’t let them fool you, Warren. Fraudsters often set themselves up with an office, a sales staff, and a sophisticated online presence. They think through every detail, down to faked endorsements and company brochures. It may look like an impressive business. In reality, it’s nothing more than a well-fabricated ploy.”

  “Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep a lookout for holes in their facade.”

  “I’m sorry your client got burned in her investment. Trading in precious metals such as gold and silver can be a legitimate way for an investor to diversify their portfolio. But the market is volatile and has its share of fraud. For every honest dealer, there are a dozen dishonest ones. It’s the deceptive dealers who give the industry a black eye.”

  “What should my client have watched for?” Warren asked.

  “If there’s one thing all scams have in common, it’s the false promise of quick riches. Promises of big returns with little or no risk are red flags, as well as pressure to buy now or invest more. I also caution people to beware of doomsday threats of a faltering economy or lofty promises of easy profits.”

  “What advice should I give her for the future?”

  “Most legitimate investment companies don’t cold-call,” Don said. “If a person she hasn’t done business with calls, she should hang up.”

  “From what my client says, Toby is charming and more than convincing on the phone.”

  “Swindlers push the right buttons. When they get a person on the phone, they probe by asking questions and gear their sales pitch to the person’s interests. They change their stories depending on who they’re talking to and how many times they’ve called. A person may start with a small initial investment, but the broker is quick to point out any profits that are made. The victim ends up investing more and more.”

  “Can my client avoid the cold calls?”

  “It’s not easy. Lists are bought, sold and traded among circles of fraudsters. If a person gets calls from one, they’ll get calls from others. The only way to stop them is to register with the Do Not Call registry.”

  “That’s good to know. I’ll pass on your advice.”

  “The Commission will do what it can to get restitution for your client. But as you know, our wheels turn slowly.”

  “I understand. In the meantime, I’ll see what I can do with a more immediate approach.”

  Don chuckled. “I know you, Warren. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  “What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

  “You have the benefit of a wider playing field with fewer restrictions. If I were you, I’d do whatever it takes to get justice for your client.”

  “In that case, I have a favor to ask.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  When her shift ended, Pat stopped for takeout on the way home.

  At her apartment, she dropped the bag on the table. After changing into jeans and a sweatshirt, she prepared a bowl of kibble and called her cat. After devouring the food, the cat sat on the patio cleaning his face.

  Pat opened a beer and carried her dinner outside where she sat in the single lawn chair in her miniature yard.

  Hobo provided entertainment while she ate by engaging in his favorite pastime of playing games with a saucy blue jay.

  The neighbor had a feeder which the bird visited regularly. After getting its fill of seeds, the jay taunted Hobo by swooping in circles above Pat’s yard causing the cat to leap in pursuit before flying handily to the wall and screeching with pleasure.

  Pat finished eating and carried her plate to the kitchen. When she returned, she looked at the back wall separating her yard from the field behind the complex.

  Seeing broken branches on the rose bush, she shook her finger at the cat. “Hobo, did you do that?”

  The cat crouched, but showed no signs of remorse.

  When she went over to examine the bush, her heart caught in her throat. There were footprints in the soil.

  Looking over the wall, it was easy to see how someone got in. The four-foot barrier provided minimal protection from the vacant adjacent field.

  Her inspection of the screen door caused a gasp of alarm. There were scratch marks on the paint around the latch.

  The cat walked over and rubbed against her leg.

  “There are no visible fingerprints, but that doesn’t surprise me,” she told Hobo, finding comfort in talking aloud to the feline. “Criminals wear protection over their hands to avoid leaving prints. However, they rarely try to conceal their footwear.”

  With that thought in mind, she inspected the footprints more closely. “I recall a case where footprints served as a silent witness against an intruder by providing the make and approximate size of a shoe.”

  Hobo watched as she began a methodical process of collecting evidence.

  First, she pulled out her phone and snapped a picture.

  Next, she went inside and returned with a sheet of contact paper which she placed adhesive side down over the outline in the dirt, allowing the impression to be transferred to the underside of the paper.

  Once this was done, she peeled off the impression preserving it for possible examination by the police lab to determine a potential wearer.

  She called the cat. “We’re through here, Hobo. Come in. It’s getting dark.”

  Pat settled on the couch and Hobo jumped in her lap. But she couldn’t relax enough to enjoy the cat’s company or the show on TV.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about what she found in her yard.

  There had been no reports of burglaries in the neighborhood. Lack of prints on the door indicated a break-in may not have been the intended purpose.

  Is the person texting threats letting me know they can get to me when they want?

  She could think of reasons someone might have her phone number, but how did the person know her address? She was careful never to disclose where she lived.

  A simmering anger replaced her initial feeling of apprehension. Intimidation changed to indignation and fear turned to outrage.

  How dare the person! Sending texts is one thing. Invading my private space and threatening the safety of my pet is a whole different matter.

  She reached for her phone and punched in a number, stroking Hobo’s back as she waited.

  After several rings, a familiar voice answered.

  “Hi, Lea. Is your offer to help still on the table?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  When Lea and Maddy arrived at the Palm Trees apartment, Pat offered to fix coffee.

  “It’s late for me to have caffeine,” Lea said. “Do you have herbal tea?”

  “Sure thing. Give me a moment.”

  While Pat was in the kitchen, Hobo walked past Lea and jumped on Maddy’s lap.

  Maddy stroked the feline, sending tremors up his back. “Looks like Pat’s cat likes me better.”

  “He probably smells my dogs on me.”

  Maddy pointed to white and gold hairs on Lea’s clothes. “Or he sees traces.”

  Pat brought a tray with a pot of steaming tea.

  “When did you become a cat person, Pat?” Lea asked.

  “I found the cat in the tent of a man found dead in a homeless encampment by the river,” Pat said, handing out the mugs. “Instead of calling animal control
to the scene, I made the mistake of putting the cat in my car intending to take him to a shelter. When we got there, I didn’t have the heart to leave the cantankerous little thing. He has the personality of an alley cat. I was afraid he wouldn’t be adopted.”

  Maddy looked at the cat on her lap, purring contentedly. “He’s hardly my definition of cantankerous.”

  Pat laughed. “We get along, now that I’ve learned to provide alternative scratching posts to the couch. He’s made himself at home and started to relax. But his claws still come out if someone he doesn’t like gets near me.”

  Maddy scratched behind the cat’s ear. “He seems to enjoy human contact.”

  Pat smiled. “That’s a two-way street. He comforts me as well, especially when he snuggles to watch TV or listen to music.”

  “How did he get his name?” Maddy asked.

  “The homeless camp where I found him is known as Hobo Jungle.”

  Lea turned her attention away from the cat. “You said you had something to show us.”

  Pat led them to the back yard and showed them the footprints.

  Maddy shivered as she inspected the outline of the shoes. “This gives me the willies.”

  “There might be a simple explanation,” Pat said, “but I’m not sure what it could be. An elderly lady lives in the apartment next door. Once, her parakeet flew out of its cage and into my back yard. She asked for access to get her bird, but I can’t see her climbing over the wall. Besides, the prints look like they belong to a man.”

  “Do you think he meant to break in?”

  “There were scratch marks on the door, but I consider it more of a warning. Someone wants me to know I’m vulnerable.”

  “Are you sure you shouldn’t inform Tom?”

  “Not yet. Let’s see what we come up with.”

  Lea pulled out a notepad. “Let’s review who might want to harm you. At least, throw a scare into you.”

  Pat held up several fingers. “I’ve narrowed the list to three people. I told you about the first person, the woman whose husband we arrested.”

  Maddy scratched her head. “Still, she wouldn’t have your address. And you said yourself, the footprints look like they belong to a man.”

  “That woman is built like a truck. She could easily fit into a man’s shoes.”

  “All right. I’ll look into it,” Lea said. “I need her name and any information you have on her.”

  “Since she didn’t file charges, we didn’t take her information. Her husband was yelling when we arrived. I think he called her Mary, but don’t quote me. That’s such a common name, I could be mistaken.”

  “If she’s on the streets, I know someone who can suggest where to look.”

  Pat snapped her fingers. “There’s something in the file which will help. I took pictures of her for my report. I’ll email you a copy. Her battered face isn’t pretty, but she’s recognizable.”

  “Good.” Lea flipped pages in her notepad. “You also told us Mickey Flynn is a likely suspect.”

  Pat shook her head. “There’s nothing you can do about Mickey, but he has to be on our list. Hopefully, the BOLO alert we issued for Mickey will result in his arrest.”

  Lea turned to a clean page. “Without meddling in your private affairs, can you think of anyone on a personal level? Perhaps a disgruntled boyfriend or someone who made advances you didn’t reciprocate.”

  Pat considered the question. “There’s a guy at a Chinese restaurant I frequent. The place is open until ten o’clock. Nights I work late, it’s my favorite place to pick up takeout on the way home.”

  “Tom used to be in the habit of eating takeout,” Maddy told them. “Lately, I’ve been stocking his freezer with healthy dinners.”

  Lea’s mouth dropped open. “I’m impressed, Mad. When did you replace your junk food diet with healthier options?”

  “When I got tired of hearing you harp about what I put in my stomach.”

  “How are you making out with your new eating regimen?”

  “I take it one day at a time, but don’t expect me to give up chocolate.”

  Lea returned her attention to Pat. “Let’s get back to the guy at the restaurant.”

  “I only know him by his first name, Sheldon.”

  “Tell us about him.”

  “The first time I was there, he tried to impress me by saying he attends college during the day and works the night shift at the restaurant to pay tuition. After hearing him flirt with female customers, I pegged his calling as customer service.”

  “Did he hit on you?” Maddy asked.

  “Oh, yeah. He didn’t realize that was a bad idea because I’m a cop. The first time he did it, I asked if his boss knows he wastes time talking with the ladies. He replied in his charming manner that it builds repeat business. The next time, he asked me out for coffee. That’s when I informed him what I do for a living.”

  Maddy laughed. “That must have stopped him in his tracks.”

  Pat shook her head. “Not at all. He said he’d love to date a woman who carries a gun.”

  “Does he only hit on unmarried women?”

  “As far as I can tell, he has no preference. Married or single. I think his lines are corny, but I admit there’s usually a line when I arrive.”

  “Why do you think he might be a problem?” Lea asked.

  “He’s one of those guys who won’t take no for an answer. The more often I declined, the more persistent he became. One night, I arrived moments after the place closed. He said there was food available and invited me in. Knowing my refrigerator was bare, I accepted. He rustled together a bag of food, then suggested he follow me home and keep me company while I ate. I put him down in no uncertain terms.”

  “How did he react?”

  “He was angry. Muttered an expletive about stuck up women and locked the door behind me. When I got to my car, I received a call from the station and spent several minutes sitting in front of Wong’s. I was halfway home when I noticed a car behind me. I suspect Sheldon saw me after he closed the restaurant and decided to follow. At that time of night, we were the only vehicles on the road. I thought of driving a few blocks past my place to lose the tail, but decided I was being silly and drove into the complex where I live.”

  “What happened to the car?”

  “The vehicle slowed, but then continued down the street. That’s when I realized the same car followed me on another occasion. It may be a coincidence, but I notice things like that.”

  “Were you able to see the driver?”

  “It was too dark. I wasn’t concerned at the time. I figured if someone was following me, they wouldn’t know which apartment is mine. When I thought about it later, I realized anyone could ask other residents if a police officer lives in the building. My address isn’t public, but people here know I’m a cop because I helped them set up a neighborhood watch patrol.”

  “How has Sheldon acted since you set him straight that night?”

  “I decided it wouldn’t be prudent to return. There are plenty of takeouts in town. None as good as Wong’s for Chinese, but I’ve survived.”

  Lea looked at Maddy. “How’s your appetite for Chinese? Are you up for getting takeout?”

  Maddy rubbed her stomach. “I’m on it. What time do you finish your shift tomorrow, Pat?”

  “We’re not working a case. If it’s a quiet day, I should be off at six.”

  “Any chance of you waiting until later to eat?” Maddy asked.

  “How late?”

  “Wait until closing. If you swing by Wong’s, Sheldon should be glad to see you since you haven’t been there for a while. I’ll park on the street to tail him when he gets off work. We’ll find out quick enough whether he’s following you.”

  “Sounds like a plan. I’ll call you when I’m on my way to the restaurant.”

  “Anyone else on the list? Any rejected suitors or old flames we should consider?”

  “I’m too busy with work to have much of a soc
ial life.”

  Maddy grinned. “That situation has changed since Jack moved to town.”

  “I’m lucky to have a man willing to put up with my crazy schedule and absences,” Pat acknowledged. “It makes me realize the sacrifices you make waiting for Tom.”

  Maddy looked at Lea. “Thanks to messes my sister gets me into, he’s ended up waiting himself on more than one occasion.”

  Lea grimaced and stood to leave. “We have plenty to start on. Don’t forget to send a picture of Mary. We’ll get back to you with whatever we find.”

  • • •

  That night, Pat tossed and turned, reliving her undercover assignment as a cocktail waitress at Mickey Flynn’s Card Club. The scene when she was caught played over and over in her mind.

  An hour into her shift, Tim, the bartender, told her to go to Mickey’s office.

  She walked past his two beefy bodyguards. “You wanted to see me, Boss?”

  “Yeah. Close the door.”

  He leaned back, unwrapped a cigar, and passed it under his nose. When he spoke, his voice had an ominous tone Pat didn’t like.

  “I felt from the start you weren’t being straight.” He lit the cigar. “But I decided to give you a chance.”

  Pat breathed deeply to calm her nerves. She knew instinctively to shut up and listen to what he had on her.

  He studied her like a predator. “Why were you snooping in my office today?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Before I took Mums to lunch, I booby-trapped my office so I’d know if anyone had entered. Sure enough, when I came back the string I hung in the door had fallen to the ground.”

  “Your bodyguards probably came in your office.”

  “No, missy. I assure you they didn’t. They aren’t mental giants, but they aren’t stupid either. They know what would happen to them. Then I heard the story of my boys being diverted to throw some rowdy customers out of the club. Mighty handy for you, them being drawn away from my office that way. I don’t suppose those rowdies were friends of yours giving you a chance to snoop.”

  “I wasn’t anywhere near this room.”

  “Bartender says differently. When I asked if you were involved in the fracas, he said you were down the hall taking a break.”