Kristmas Collins (11 page)

“I don’t think I need to tell you who that is,” Falcone said.

He didn’t. Stone Scroggie was the man who stole more than half-a-million dollars from her father. Money that was now missing, and many believed Kris knew where it was.

The human Fotomat had more for her. One was of a woman who had been following Kris last night, while the other was a gruesome shot of a dead body. At least that’s what she believed it to be—it was so mangled, it was hard to recognize.

Falcone explained that the first one was of a Scroggie associate named Jacqueline Helada. And since he didn’t have a photo of Scroggie’s assassin who called himself Gooch, he provided her an example of some of his work. The photo of the woman shocked her more than the dead body.

“You see, it’s very important for everybody’s sake that we find that money before Scroggie does. That way we can protect Kris. But if Scroggie gets his hands on it first he has no reason to keep him alive, and my bosses will have no motivation to offer protection.”

“Then perhaps you’d be better served by looking for this money, instead of talking to me.”

“Oh, I know where the money is …”

“That’s good to hear. I look forward to you recovering it, so that we can all move on with our lives.”

“It’s not that simple … the money is in the Bermuda Triangle.”

“I have no interest in the details of your treasure hunt, other than I will be watching to make sure that it’s returned to its proper owners when recovered—specifically my parents. And if the FBI needs legal advice, I would suggest an international lawyer of offshore accounts. It’s not my expertise.”

“Maybe not, but this triangle I speak of is made up of Scroggie, your father, and your ex-husband, which puts you smack in the middle of it, whether you like it or not. And everyone knows how dangerous the Bermuda Triangle can be.”

“As much as I’m enjoying your cryptic riddles, Agent Falcone, I have much to work to complete before Christmas break. So I would really appreciate if you’d get to the point of your visit.”

“I need you to tell me where the money’s located. And if Kris hasn’t told you, then you best get the answer from him as quickly as possible.”

“You know very well, as his lawyer, I cannot discuss any conversations I’ve had with my client.”

He smiled. “I’ve heard that one before. I’m surprised you didn’t represent Kris during his plea deal. They say only a fool would represent himself in court.”

“Then I believe you’ve answered your own question.”

“I just find it strange that he so easily agreed to spend three years in jail, without so much as a fight. He’d gotten off clients who were in much dire circumstances.”

“I think it would have been difficult to win a case in such a climate of negativity. Perhaps he didn’t think he had a chance, and cut his losses.”

He continued smiling like he knew something she didn’t. “On that note, I’d like to thank you for your time Ms. Wainwright, and I’ll be on my way. I wish you and yours a merry Christmas, and hope all of you are alive to spend it together.”

“And yours, Agent Falcone.”

“Unfortunately, I will be working on Christmas, but I’m hoping to get New Year’s off this year.”

When he left, she booted up her computer. The fact that Kris has been up to something was no surprise to her. It was the reason she’d hired that private detective to follow him. And the photos the PI sent her from Kris’ escapades last night were for the most part no different from Falcone’s. But it did surprise her that the person she hired to follow him
was
in his photos.

Jacqueline.

Suddenly she felt the triangle closing in on her.

Candi Kane stepped out of the Macy’s flagship store in Herald Square, surrounded by flashbulbs, and high on the one drug she still indulged in—attention.

The press conference on the sixth floor was to promote tomorrow’s contest to select girls for the final two spots on the
Candy Stripers
revival. And then the media followed her around the world’s biggest department store as she browsed and shopped for an hour. A perfect morning.

They followed her outside like she was the Pied Piper. The sky was gunmetal gray, but to Candi, it looked like a sun-filled summer day. Herald Square was bustling with Christmas shoppers, along with numerous mothers bringing their children to visit Santaland. She felt like she was experiencing her first Christmas, and in some ways she was.

Her childhood Christmases were spent in her mother’s Chevy Impala, driving across the country to attend auditions. In the years that followed, starting in her teenage years, she would usually jet off to some exotic locale, where she would wake up Christmas morning in a cocaine haze, next to some stranger.

As she made her way to 34th Street, she noticed the animated window-displays outside of Macy’s. She walked toward them, which seemed to catch the media off guard. It was starting to become a trend.

Their first surprise was that she showed up on time for the press conference, despite multiple reports of her being out to the wee morning hours “clubbing.” That used to be code for a Candi Kane no-show, followed by a well-scripted release from her publicist about a sudden case of food poisoning or some other health related excuse.

And if that wasn’t surprise enough, she really threw them for a loop with her professional attire, which included a business suit with hair tied up, and a pair of studious-looking glasses.

She set her shopping bags down and fixated on the festive animation with a childlike gaze. This year’s theme was “Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus,” based on the famed 1897 letter to the editor, in which an eight-year-old girl named Virginia O’Hanlon asked if there really was a Santa Claus. And by the time Candi witnessed the huge sign on the 34th Street side of the store that spelled out “Believe” in cursive letters, she was a firm believer that there
was
a Santa Claus. And she now understood why he took so much joy in giving to others. She couldn’t wait to change some girl’s life tomorrow when she selected her to become a
Candy Striper
, and she was also looking forward to her trip to Afghanistan to perform for the soldiers.

But a dark cloud ominously pulled to a stop in front of the store, eclipsing her sunny day. Without a choice, she hurried to the stretch limo and disappeared inside.

Sitting across from her was Stone Scroggie. His deep tan matched his dark suit, and his bald head was shining like an ornament on a Christmas tree. He peered at her with his beady eyes, and didn’t look happy.

Sitting beside him, too engaged in his laptop to look up, was Gooch. Handsome, cold, detached, and ruthless. Just his presence scared the hell out of her.

The limo fought through traffic, heading east toward the Empire State Building, which was decked out in red and green for the holiday. They turned on Fifth Avenue, passing the many sparkly shops being attacked by swarms of holiday shoppers, until they wound their way to the front of Grand Central Terminal. Their sudden stop was met by angry honks, but Stone Scroggie had never been a man to be pushed—he did the pushing. They waited until a woman with a short bob haircut made her way inside the vehicle.

Jacqueline took a seat beside Candi, across from Scroggie and Gooch.

“How is our friend Mr. Collins this morning?” Scroggie asked, as the vehicle began to move again.

“He seemed a little tired. He’s getting a little old to be hitting the club scene,” Jacqueline responded with a smirk. She then removed her wig, exposing short, spiky hair.

Scroggie held up a photo of Candi attempting to kiss Kris. “I see that you showed him a good time last night.”

“You told me to make it look good.”

He held up another, this one of Kris pulling away from her advance. “But I guess not good enough, since I still don’t have my money.”

“Our money,” Candi corrected him.

Scroggie ignored her, and turned to Gooch. “Let’s hear the audio.”

Without looking up, Gooch hit a button on the laptop and Candi’s voice filled the limo. She’d hid the listening device in the belt buckle of her Santa suit.

“
Are you sure you want to go through with this, Candi?”

“
I told you, sweetie—I’m dedicating myself to helping people, and by helping you, maybe I can make up a little bit for all the damage I’ve caused.”

“Isn’t that sweet,” Scroggie said.

“I can’t believe that sap actually bought that line … this guy is too easy,” Jacqueline added.

“Only a fool would underestimate Collins at this point,” Scroggie warned, as the audio file continued.

“
Over the next week the treasure will be loaded into the account.”

“
So I won’t be digging for it?”

“
No—your job will be to transfer the money into different accounts around the world. Like hitting a diamond with a hammer and the pieces spraying in all different directions.”

“
That’s beautiful … you’ve always had such a way with words, Kris.”

Scroggie shook his head with disgust. “You would think with all those acting lessons I paid for, I could get something resembling a professional performance.”

Candi seethed. She’d been criticized for everything from her clothing to her lifestyle, and had been the butt of jokes by the late night comics for years, but go after her acting and you’d have a fight on your hands.

Gooch punched the numbers of the account that Candi had set up in Statia—the one that the treasure would be “loaded into.” Right now it had just the ten thousand dollars that Candi had used to start the account. But they would be able to watch as the money rolled in.

“
All I want for Christmas is you, Kris,”
the tape continued.

“
You can’t have me.”

“
Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean I can’t ask Santa for the one I love this year.”

“Turn it off … now!” Scroggie shouted.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Stone?” Candi said. “As if all those flowers and chocolates were because you were really in love with me. All you ever wanted me for was to get to Kris.”

“You would think with all I’ve done for you, you’d be more respectful.”

“What you’ve done for
me?
I think you got it flipped around.”

“You really think it’s a coincidence that your career had such a sudden turnaround?”

“Don’t you ever say that! I earned it all on my own. Maybe Kris and I will run off together, and then you’ll never see your money.” She tried to open the door and leap out onto Park Avenue while they idled at a stoplight, but the doors were locked.

“There is only one deal for Collins to make—return my money or end up dead … as will you, if I don’t get it back. But because I’m a nice guy, I’ll write off your lack of loyalty this morning as the price of doing business with a flighty child, and give you one percent. With money subtracted for acting school and your clothing allowance, of course.”

“That’s not out deal.”

“I’ve changed the terms of our agreement. But perhaps I’ll allow you to earn equity back based on if you perform certain favors for me.”

Candi cringed at the thought of Scroggie’s cold hands on her. “If we’re done here, please just drop me off at the Waldorf … I have a very busy day.”

“Not so fast,” Jacqueline said. “You aren’t going anywhere until you hand over the brochure.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The brochure that Collins passed to you last night in Vida’s. He wrote something on it, and I want to see it.”

Candi reached into her purse and pulled it out. Before she could hand it to Jacqueline, Scroggie grabbed it away.

“What’s this?” he demanded.

“It marks the spot where I’m going to meet the contact on my return trip to Statia on New Year’s. That’s when I’ll be provided the numbers of the bank accounts where they’ve moved the money. Or as Kris said, hitting a diamond with a hammer.”

“And you didn’t think to hand this over to me?”

“I wasn’t keeping it from you, if that’s what you’re getting at. But maybe with my pay reduction my mind isn’t as sharp. As they say, you get what you pay for.”

“Maybe I should have you spend some time with Gooch … to jar your memory.”

Just the thought sent shivers down her spine.

“What are your thoughts on the subject?” Scroggie addressed the quiet Gooch.

He finally looked up. “I would very much enjoy spending some quality time with her.”

“I’m sure you would,” he said with an evil chuckle, “but I was referring to your thoughts on our next move.”

“It seems simple. Have Candi followed when she travels to Statia to meet the contact. I’m sure she will agree to cooperate, as will the contact, who can then lead us to the money.”

Scroggie shook his head. “No, we need to speed up the process. I’m tired of these games—I want the money in our possession within forty-eight hours. Candi obviously hasn’t been able to properly motivate Collins, so I will take over that aspect of the project.”