Fraud: A Stepbrother Romance (6 page)

A small monitor inset into the cabin wall
started playing.

The video showed a boat, and then I
recognized Sam Parker.

I saw Tanner and King speaking with him,
and realized that they were far out to sea.

The waves were rough and the boat shook
and rolled in the waters. I watched in horror as Derek came into view, and
began arguing with the other men. There was too much wind noise to hear every
word, but I heard some snatches of shouted conversation.

“You bastard!” shouted Derek, and he moved
towards Parker.

Parker slipped overboard.

From the camera angle, it looked like
Derek had pushed him over the side!

Sam Parker’s eyes were wide as he had
fallen off the boat.

“Come about! Get the life preserver and
toss it over!” shouted King. “Hurry, George!”

On the video, Tanner grabbed a rope and a
life ring, and tossed them after Parker. The rope curled out and away. There
was nothing to indicate that Parker had caught it, nor if it even was near
him. 

“What’s this supposed to prove?” I asked.

“Sam Parker’s body was never recovered,
Megan,” said King.

“Derek shoved him overboard, because Sam
Parker was going to expose his attempt to defraud my companies.”

“Bullshit! You’re lying!” I shouted in
dismay.

“Sam Parker died in a traffic accident,
when his car crashed!” I said.

“That’s the story everybody was told for
insurance purposes, for your father’s company, but the true fact of the matter
is that Sam Parker was murdered by Derek White,” said King.

“This video proves that, and we also have
documents that show the fraudulent reporting of Mr. Parker’s cause of death as
being in that accident. Sam Parker was trying to elude alimony payments to his
ex-wife. He faked the crash, so that he could start a new life.”

“Unfortunately for him, Mr. White was too
enthusiastic in his pursuit of Parker. When he finally caught up with him,
Parker had changed his name and was assisting my companies in some logistics
work. Mr. White stowed away on my boat, and pushed Mr. Parker overboard, as you
can plainly see.”

“Why didn’t you report this to the police,
then?” I said.

“My dear girl, of course we did,” King
said, smiling like a snake.

“Unfortunately, Mr. White slipped over the
side of the boat as we entered the harbor and vanished. You do know he is a Navy
SEAL, do you not?”

My heart sank, again, and I felt darkness
closing in on my soul.

“Derek!” I cried silently.

King and Tanner then brought out a small
stack of papers in a manila folder.

“This is the evidence we are submitting to
the authorities that substantiates that Derek had been working covertly, for
almost three years now, to undermine and defraud Mr. King and his businesses.
Please feel free to take your time and read it over, Ms. Greene,” said Tanner.

I began to read through the papers, skimming
and looking for the smoking gun. I found it.

There really was a police report filed,
and it mentioned Derek as the perpetrator.

That’s when I began to feel really sick.

The combination of the flying and the
shocking information I saw made me ill.

My stomach began to do flip flops. I could
feel my bile rising.

I guess they must have seen me turning
green, because Tanner had an airsickness bag close to hand.

He proffered it to me, and I took it from
him and bent over the thing. I fumbled as I tried opening it.

“Here,” said Tanner, grinning. “Let me
help you there…”

He opened it and held it in front of my
face.

I wanted to vomit, but I just couldn’t
make myself.

Tanner looked over at King, who was
straightening up the stack of papers.

“You may have these, Ms. Greene,” he said,
as he slid the folder over to me.

“We will be sending a copy of the tape and
these documents to the Dade County prosecutor’s office, the Florida State’s
Attorney General, the FDLE and also the local Sheriff. We expect Derek will be
incarcerated no later than tomorrow evening. At that time, his bail will be set
to twenty million dollars. We intend to also bring suit against the Federal
government for harassment and improper procedures regarding the investigation
of Mr. King, his businesses, and expect that we will garner the cooperation of
Interpol and Scotland Yard, due to the involvement of international banking
concerns,” said Tanner.

“Your stepbrother will be imprisoned for
the rest of his life, Ms. Greene,” said King. “And, there is only one way to
prevent it.”

King slid back into his seat, grabbing his
cigar and bourbon, and looked at me with his lizard-like eyes.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice
cracking.

“I want you to kill your stepmother,” he
said.

My eyes wide, I couldn’t comprehend the
words he’d just uttered. Unfamiliar and conflicting emotions welled up in me.

“You must be insane! I’ll go to the police
myself!” I yelled at him.

Laughing, King sat back and sipped his
drink. He took another puff of smoke.

“Oh, no, you will not,” he said. “George?”

“What Mr. King is saying is that you
really don’t have much choice. If you want to keep Derek out of prison, where
he will most certainly be killed by one of the men he’s helped to incarcerate
over the years, you will have to cooperate. And, we can assure you, these men
will not make his death either fast, nor painless,” said Tanner.

My eyes teared over, and the horror I felt
made me retch.

Derek! My love! How can I bear to see this
happen to you?

“I am pretty sure you have little love for
your stepmother, Margaret, am I right, Megan?” said King.

He leered at me, and took another puff of
his cigar.

“I think I’m going to be airsick,” I
gurgled, just before Tanner thrust another air sickness bag in my face. I
gagged, and coughed.

The two men watched, and Tanner gave me a
silk napkin to wipe my face.

Then, he reached into a compartment and
brought out some lemon-scented wipes.

The odor made me gag again. I spit a few
times into the airsick bag.

“Have some water, my dear girl,” said
King, with no sympathy in his voice at all. I bet he was worried I was going to
foul his leather seats.

“In actuality, Megan, your involvement in
your stepmother’s demise will be incidental,” said King.

“You merely need to
not
do
something when the time comes,” he said.

“That slight inaction will be enough, and
you will no longer be bothered by that terrible woman,” he finished.

“Nor will I…” he muttered.

King looked out at the ocean, and frowned.
There was something he wasn’t telling me.

“I thought she and you were an item,
King?” I asked, warily.

My head began to throb, the vibration of
the rotor blades making me nauseous again.

“Dear Peg is merely a gold-digging whore,”
he said.

“I used her, and now her utility to me is
almost at an end,” he continued.

He made an odd movement, where his eyes
rolled up briefly.

He looked at Tanner, who discretely
avoided looking back.

“Why me?” I asked.

“Because my dear girl, she trusts you. You
are the least likely person to whom she will ascribe any ability to cause her
harm. She may not love you, nor even like you. But, as hard as it may be for
you to grasp, she respects you,” he said.

“Your father gave you a strong character,
and the one thing Peg has no ability to change is that spark of stubborn
honesty that you exude,” he said.

“What Mr. King is saying,” said Tanner,
“is that she will allow you to get close enough to her for an accident to
befall her, and no one will suspect foul play.”

“You want me to set her up?” I said. “So
you can have her killed?”

“That is the idea,” said Tanner.

“And in return…” I said, my voice trailing
off.

“In return, Derek will not be imprisoned.
And, you, my dear, are rid of a thorn in your side,” said King.

“And, if I refuse? Or go to the police?” I
said, my voice shaking.

“Well, Megan,” said King, “that would be
most unfortunate for everyone involved. Most unfortunate, indeed.”

He puffed out the last of his cigar, and
leaned over towards me.

He blew the cigar smoke directly into my
face, and I threw up all over the table. I didn’t even attempt to use the
now-sodden bag.

Laughing, King looked out the window, as
the helicopter began to descend towards the Fort Lauderdale Executive Airport.

“George, I am thinking Italian, this
evening? Perhaps Anthony’s?” he said.

The restaurant in question sat on the edge
of the airport. It was quite good, and I’d eaten there many times.

The thought of that Italian food made me
throw up again, but now there wasn’t anything in me.

I dry heaved as the chopper set down.

“Why not, Bobby?” said Tanner, with
obvious pleasure.

I sat there, sickened by the revelations
that had been thrust upon me.

What could I do?

Oh, Derek, what in God’s name can I do?

DEREK

My step-dad insisted I call Sam Parker
“Uncle Sam”.

He thought it was a real funny joke.

We’d be at a cook-out, Sam grilling
burgers and dogs, and they’d get into politics. Sam would always argue for the
Democrats, and my step-dad would argue for the Republicans.

My stepmother would try her best to
referee, but as soon as it got too heated, she’d just go away and drink.

Most of the time, Megan would be there,
listening to the two men argue over whose policies were worse, and she’d giggle
and smile at me. I don’t know how she stood all that crap.

She always enjoyed all that legal
nonsense.

And look what happened to her - she became
an attorney!

When we were at these events, I’d usually
go play ball with the other guys, or just float around in the water.

I always enjoyed swimming. I guess that’s
partly why I ended up going into the Navy.

But the real reason was that I couldn’t
torture myself any longer.

Being with Megan was all I had ever
wanted.

And it was impossible.

It was better for the both of us if I just
went away and never came back.

I knew she was strong enough to find
someone who could truly love her and make her happy. She just needed a chance
to realize the truth.

I was poison to her, and she was too kind
and goodhearted to realize that.

I knew how she felt.

And I knew how I felt.

And I knew that it was a damn shame how
life complicates the simplest of things.

Like love.

*****

I had joined a special task force that
worked with the Miami Police Department and FBI to track the proceeds from
illegal gambling and other organized crime operations that were based out of
the county.

I used to joke with some of my buddies
that it was a real Miami Vice gig.

The best part was I got to use a lot of
the skills from my SEAL training, and worked alongside some of the best and
most dedicated men I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Our team was responsible for the
interdiction of 15 separate motherships, that were incidental to our actual
plan. That didn’t make us popular with the local hoods and thugs.

Nor did it endear us to a particular batch
of Detectives who had been turning their attention to other matters, some for
many decades.

They supplemented their police careers
with perks from these associates. In many cases, even their wives knew that
they were on the take, but that was expected and some of the circles from which
they had come. There’s some glamour with mixing it up with Mafia wives, and
these women secretly wished that their husbands had more balls and ambition to
try to become made men.

And, I know corruption is nothing new.

But to find it so deeply embedded the law
enforcement community was very disheartening to me.

*****

I can remember the entire incident as
though it happened yesterday:

Our local intelligence indicated that
somehow, Sam Parker’s business, (the one he’d been running with Megan’s father,
my stepfather), was aiding King’s money laundering racket.

After some discussion, we’d decided a
frontal approach was out of the question, so I was tasked with running a
reconnaissance mission.

Typically, this was not a great big deal.
I would just swim out to Sam’s boat, the
“Punta Gordo II”
and slip into
someplace cozy.

My mission was simple - listen.

I’m very good at listening.

I was to get some information for later
action, collect some intel.

Above all, try to remain hidden.

Discovery was a big no-no.

After all, we were known as the best of
the best.

This wasn’t my first rodeo, after all.

Just don’t ever ask me about Bin Laden…

*****

Later that week, our informant gave us the
time when Parker and King were next slated to meet on the
“Punta Gordo II”
.

I geared up, with our Team Leader, Randy
and Walt, another member of the Alpha Team, checking me out.

“You sure do look purdy, there, Derek,”
said Walt. He was known for his ribbing when we were prepping for a mission. It
was his way of dealing with stress.

“Thanks, Walt,” I replied.

“Say, did you brush your tooth today?” I
asked.

Walt grinned, all of his teeth gleaming in
the sunset.

A pretty large storm was coming in from
the west, like it normally did every day in Miami during rainy season.

The seas were really choppy, and large
swells shook up Biscayne Bay.

I hoped that I’d be lucky, and King and
his cronies would just stay in the marina.

No such luck…

*****

I swam over to Sam’s boat, and carefully
crawled up the back steps. I was hoping to find out more about his dealings
with Robert King and my stepfather. It was a really ugly day, and the sea was
getting even rougher. I was lucky I’d gotten my sea legs when I joined the Navy.

Then, I saw King drive up in his Mercedes
and park.

He got out, and so did another of his
people - George Tanner.

Sam Parker pulled in beside them about
three minutes later, in a Tahoe. When he had parked, King and Tanner exited
their car and walked out to the boat. They managed to get aboard without
breaking anything.

Sam came on after them, and Tanner began
to untie the boat from the pilings.

“What the fuck?” I thought.  Were they
seriously getting ready to go out in this shit?

Most men I knew, even seasoned veterans,
headed for a safer berth when weather like this threatened, if they could. The
fact that this boat was heading out in this indicated to me that there was some
pretty bad shit ahead. Few people are on the ocean when it’s angry.

I was going to need a strong stomach to
avoid giving myself away.

*****

Once we were underway, the swells and chop
only worsened, the further from shore we went. The sky was heavy with
thunderclouds, and lightning bolts crashed in the distance.

Sam guided the boat out of the marina, and
into the bay. He pointed it towards Key Largo, and put the throttles to full.

The boat rose and crashed into the waves,
pounding the hull mercilessly. It made me queasy, but I was managing to hold
on.

Barely.

After about an hour of getting jostled as
badly as I ever had been when on a ship, I heard the three men talking.

It was hard to hear them over the wind
noise, and the waves. It started to rain, and I couldn’t quite make out what
they were arguing about.

“You slimy bastard!” Sam Parker yelled
suddenly.

“Who do you think you are? My boys in
Chicago and D.C. will rip your head off and shit down your throat!” he shouted
at King and Tanner.

Sam was furious.

“Look, asshole,” said Tanner, “you knew
the score when you came on board the organization. Mr. King gets seventy
percent, you get fifteen, I get five, and the rest is ‘administration’.”

“Then, explain how it is that I am only
getting two fucking percent, Tanner?” said Sam.

“I had a look, and you are getting all my
excess inventory at cost. You’re then shipping it god knows where, and I see
the invoices are for ten times the sticker. So, where the hell is my cut,
King?” he said.

King just looked at Tanner, and made this
weird face. His eyes kind of rolled back in his head, and his tongue stuck out
a bit.

Tanner spun Sam around, and punched him in
the stomach. Sam’s breath whooshed out, and he crumpled over.

King walked around to the other side of
Tanner, and did something, but I couldn’t see what it was.

The next thing I know, Tanner had somehow
managed to get Sam to stand near the side of the boat, and that’s when I saw
what was about to happen.

I jumped out from my hide, inside the life
raft, and ran towards the three of them.

Just then, a huge wave crashed over the
bow, sending me off-balance.

King saw me.

“So, Mr. White! You’ve decided to join
us!” he said.

“Back off, King!” I yelled.

“You too, Tanner!” I said.

Tanner pushed Sam, and timed it just as
another wave smacked the boat. We all went reeling, but I could see Sam was
about to go overboard.

“You bastard!” I shouted at Tanner.

I grabbed for Sam, just as Tanner yanked
the rope that entangled his feet.

Sam slipped backwards, and I heard him hit
his head on the side of the boat.

Another huge wave hit just then, and Sam
fell overboard, stunned by the impact.

Sam Parker’s eyes were wide as he fell
into the roiling sea.

But, there was no sign of life in them.

He’d been knocked unconscious by the blow,
or stunned into incapacity.

Either way, he was dead.

I saw the rope around his feet trailing
him, and leapt at it.

The motion of the boat caused me to fall
down, right where he’d been standing.

“Come about! Get the life preserver and
toss it over!” shouted King. “Hurry, George!”

When I got up, he was gone.

There was no sign of him in the water, with
the waves crashing all over the place.

He must have sunk almost immediately.

Suddenly, Tanner and King were shouting
and trying to push me aside.

They manhandled me and I saw Tanner toss a
life-ring far out into the ocean.

There was no way to tell if Parker had
caught it, nor if it even was near him. 

“Why the fuck are they bothering?” I
thought.

Sam Parker had gone to Davy Jones’s
Locker.

There’d be no more barbecues or arguing
about politics or anything like that with Uncle Sam anymore.

Sam Parker may not have been my most
favorite person, but he didn’t deserve to die like that.

“George! Assure that Mr. White doesn’t
escape! He pushed Sam Parker over the side!” King shouted.

What the fuck? I thought.

Suddenly, I looked at the cabin and saw a
small red light blinking on and off, and figured it was time to get out of
there.

Tanner jumped in front of me, and I
pounded my right fist into his face. I’m pretty sure I broke his nose.

He fell backward to the heaving deck, and
I jumped overboard, into the ocean.

The
“Punta Gordo II”
was lost among
the waves.

I heard it going away from me, as my
flotation vest kept my head out of the worst of the waves. I used my snorkel to
breathe, letting the waves pick me up and put me down. I floated, letting the harsh
seas do all the work. I knew that the general direction of the current would be
north, along the Gulfstream. My extraction point was only a few miles from
where I’d leapt off, and I knew that my team would get the EPIRB beeps, and
come find me.

It was more boring than dangerous.

At least, it is when you have the right
gear.

*****

About fifteen minutes later, a Coastie
cutter came alongside, and some ropes were tossed to me. I climbed onto it, and
it headed back to shore.

“Things just got real, Randy,” I said.

“What’s up? Did you find out anything
useful?” he said.

“Either we’ve got King for murder, or I’ve
got bigger troubles than I think I can handle,” I replied.

*****

At least our team was making some progress
in finding out about Robert King’s money laundering operations. We just could
not figure out how he had been able to hide the transactions.

Ever since the Patriot Act came out, banks
had been more and more stringent about assuring that a legal audit trail
existed for all of the ways that money was being handled. To ignore or try to
bypass these regulations put the bank at great risk. Nobody wanted to be
accused of assisting in the funding of terrorist organizations such as ISIS.
Bankers by nature are very conservative.

It was one thing to hide Nazi gold in
their vaults that had been confiscated from Polish Jews, but it was a
completely different thing to provide money that purchased weapons that now
were being used against US allies