Taken by the Con (17 page)

Cash had looked at these sites from work? How sloppy did Benjamin think Cash was? “If he was planning to run, he’d be careful. He wouldn’t surf travel sites from work.”

“He was careful. He used a computer at a public library.”

She had questions, but wasn’t ready to believe any of this. “If you believe Cash is planning to run, why haven’t you returned him to prison?”

“We need him.”

“I know what I’m doing. I’m being a friend to Cash,” Lucia said. “He’s better at his job when he isn’t sleeping in a crack den.”

Benjamin fixed his gaze on her. “You had better be right Lucia. I’ve had reasons to question your judgment, but I’ve given you some leeway.”

What was he implying? “When have I exhibited poor judgment?”

“You were promoted out of violent crime, but it seemed like there was more to the story than a simple promotion. I heard rumors about problems with the team there.”

Rumors? Problems? “I did my job in violent crime,” she said. She was in a tough position. She had no facts to prove she had been moved because her former boss was a chauvinist and badmouthing him made her look bad. But if Benjamin wanted to question her about rumors, how could she defend herself?

“Just be aware that I’m watching you. Both you and Cash. Don’t step out of line.”

* * *

Cash opened the flimsy screen door and tapped on the wooden front door of his father’s house. He heard his father moving around inside. He opened the door with a smile on his face.

“Cash.” His father seemed genuinely pleased to see him.

“I wanted to check to see how you were feeling,” Cash said. After the drive-by at the restaurant and his father’s heart scare, Cash had been worried.

His father touched his rib cage. “Better every day. Where’s your lady?”

“She had a nail appointment.” He was impressed with his quick thinking.

“She’s quite a woman.”

Cash nodded.

“Different from Britney.”

Wyatt hadn’t spent much time with Cash’s late wife. Britney hadn’t liked Cash’s father for the same reasons she hadn’t liked her own.

Cash had turned away from his father because the life that Britney had offered was better than the life he’d grown up with. She was eleven years older than he was, and that age difference had made her seem wiser. Though she’d been living with her mother most of her life, she understood the world where Cash and his father lived. She had been a way out of something he’d never enjoyed. “Lucy’s one of a kind.”

“Does she know everything? Did you go on the level with her?” his father asked.

“She knows.” About mostly everything.

“She wants you back in this game?” his father asked.

“She’s okay with it.”

His father said nothing for a long time. He walked unsteadily to the refrigerator. He took out two beers, pulled the caps and handed one to Cash. Cash wasn’t in the mood to drink, but he took a swig.

“I’ve known Anderson for a long time. He and I go way back to the old neighborhood,” his father said.

“I know.”

“Keep that in mind when you hear what I have to say. I don’t want you involved with Anderson. I don’t want you tied up in something that will land you back in prison.” His father lowered his voice over the word
prison
.

“I’m not returning to prison. I’ll be careful,” Cash said.

His father touched his cheek. “Careful isn’t enough. Anderson is looking for a big score. Anderson doesn’t ever tell anyone his plans, but I hear things, you know? Good things, bad things. Mostly I hear that Anderson wants out of the game. When he leaves, he’ll take his money with him and he won’t care if the people around him take the fall for what he’s done.”

Cash sensed his father knew more. “Why would anyone need to take the fall? Anderson is careful.”

Cash’s father let out a burst of laughter. “He’s shrewd. He doesn’t put himself in the direct line of fire. He has plenty of people willing to do it for him. Why do you want in, anyway? I thought you turned your back on this life.”

He had. Though the life of a con man was exciting and could be lucrative, he wasn’t interested in being a criminal. His only interest was his son. “I don’t have any other way to make a living.” The admission burned because it was true.

Cash didn’t have a college degree or skills. When he was married to Britney, he’d had a job working at a hardware store, stocking shelves overnight. It had left him free during the day to stay with Adrian. He’d been tired many days, but it had been worth it to spend so much time with his son.

“You’re a smart man. You’re a people person. People like you. Why don’t you use that?”

“To do what? What pays as well as this?”

His father frowned and his shoulders sagged. “I couldn’t figure it out. I’ve done this for so long I don’t know how to get out.”

Did his father want out? He had always seemed to enjoy running cons. He was good at it. “Do you want to retire?”

His father drummed his fingers against the countertop. “I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

His father smashed a fist against the counter, rattling some dishes that were sitting unwashed next to the sink. “Can’t. But Cash, I was never more proud of you than when you walked away from this.”

Proud? His father had been furious. “It didn’t seem that way.”

“I was hurt that you’d turned away from family. But I didn’t want you back into this.”

“It’s a tough life to quit,” Cash said.

“Sometimes, it’s the only option,” his father said. “But Lucy might change her mind. She might want a family and stability.”

“I can give her whatever she needs,” Cash said.

“This life is not what anyone needs,” Wyatt said.

“Tell me what I can do to help you.”

“Will you let me see my grandson?” his father asked.

Cash’s heart squeezed. Adrian. Cash did not want Adrian involved in this situation. Britney had been adamant that his father not be near Adrian, but Cash didn’t have the same feelings. Not anymore. “That’s a logistical problem.”

His father took a sip of his beer and looked away.

“Britney’s mom has custody of Adrian. They live on the other side of the country. He isn’t interested in seeing me. I am not planning to pursue him.” Did his father hear the lie?

If he did, he didn’t call Cash out. “I understand. It’s a conversation for another day.”

* * *

Searching for a single one-way plane ticket was damning evidence.

Had Cash lied to her about his son? Had he been conning her? If he was, what was he conning her into doing?

Arguing with herself and considering the angles was making her crazy. Lucia took the stairs to her condo feeling grumpy and unpleasant. The old townhouse should have been outfitted with an elevator.

Audrey stepped out of her place. “Have time for a visit?”

Lucia had time, but she wasn’t in the mood. “I’ve had a long day.”

“Following a long night?” Audrey asked.

For a moment, Lucia feared that Audrey knew she and Cash had been involved in the break-in at the art museum. Based on the look in Audrey’s eyes, she was referring to Cash. “Not enough sleep.”

Audrey smiled. “Best kind of nonsleep.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Always is,” Audrey said.

“It shouldn’t be,” Lucia said.

“When it’s easy, it’s boring. Cash is not a boring man. I would use a lot of words to describe him, but not that one.”

Boring described Lucia’s past relationships. Revisiting those relationships, especially the disastrous ones, would send her mood on a downward spiral. “I don’t know what I want.”

“I think it’s clear you don’t want a safe, normal relationship,” Audrey said.

“What makes you say that?” Safe and normal wouldn’t have problems involving criminals and extradition laws.

Audrey threw up her hands. “I’ve met Bradley. I’ve met the kind of men your mom loves to force on you. You reject them and you don’t look back.”

“I didn’t reject Bradley.” It had been the other way around.

Audrey rolled her eyes. “Didn’t you? Were you heartbroken when he left you?”

Yes. No. A little. “I was hurt.”

“Your
pride
was hurt. You were fine. You were happy to throw off those old chains and do what you wanted.”

Party girl turned therapist. “I was pissed off at my sister’s wedding to Bradley. I made a drunken spectacle of myself.”

“I was pissed off at your sister and Bradley’s wedding, too. It was so dull, I fell asleep twice. You did not make a spectacle. You got drunk. Big deal. A spectacle would have been if you’d jumped her and ripped off her veil, then stolen her bouquet and beaten Bradley with it.”

Lucia laughed, the picture Audrey painted making her feel better. That was something else she liked about Audrey. She said what was on her mind. “Well, now I’m in a nonboring relationship-type situation and it feels...”

“Nauseating?”

“No.” She tried to find the right word. “Cash makes me feel afraid.”

“Because he’s the real deal.”

If only Audrey knew the truth. He was a con man. And he might be conning her. “He’s intense.”

“Intensely sexy. Smart. Handsome. Can’t hold his liquor, but we can fix that.”

“He isn’t looking for commitment.”

“Did he say that?”

They hadn’t talked about the future of their relationship. How could they when Cash’s future was uncertain? “He hasn’t said anything.”

“Why do you assume he doesn’t want you, then? Why do you assume the worst?” Audrey asked.

Cash not wanting her wasn’t the worst scenario. The worst scenario was that their entire relationship was a long con.

“I can’t see him wanting to be with me.” The words were pathetic but honest.

“I can see it. Easily. You’re a phenomenal woman and it’s about time a man sees it,” Audrey said.

“Thanks, Audrey. That makes me feel better.”

Audrey rolled her eyes. “I’m not saying things just to make you feel better. I’m being honest. You sell yourself short and I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because your family is bent on making you something you’re not or maybe it’s because you don’t toot your own horn and so people overlook you, but stop expecting people to reject you. Maybe they won’t.”

* * *

Lucia was upset about something. Cash was good at reading people. This job depended on it. It was part of how he’d survived jail. She wasn’t upset about the case. She was too cool and calm on the job. She was upset with him. It was personal, and if they didn’t clear the air Matt Mitchell might pick up on it, too. They were meeting with him at Franco’s place in a few minutes and they needed to pull it together.

“Tell me what I did so I can apologize.”

Lucia stopped and whirled on him. “If I tell you what’s wrong, then what’s the point of the apology? Aren’t you supposed to realize it on your own?”

“Then it’s something personal.” At least he’d read her right.

She glared at him. “We’ll talk about it later. We’re working.”

“We can spare three minutes,” he said.

“Three minutes? You want to give me three minutes?”

“It’s more complicated than that?” If it took her more than three minutes to explain the problem, the resolution would be a great deal longer than that.

Lucia threw up her hands. “Just forget it. The case. That’s what we’re doing now.”

Cash shook off his worry and focused on their meeting. They were paying Franco well for his assistance, but Cash wasn’t a stranger to being crossed. Anderson paid Franco well, too.

This could be an ambush. He knew Lucia had her gun in her purse, but Cash wasn’t carrying a weapon. A gun could go off in a split second. The FBI was waiting outside and covering exits, but once he was dead, why would he care if his killer was caught?

They did a quick check of their earpieces and microphones before going inside Franco’s apartment. Lucia’s microphone was hidden in a pair of large, yellow earrings that were the same shade as the dress she was wearing. He knew she hated the clothes she wore, but he liked them. They had a certain party-girl, sexy and flirty vibe that he enjoyed. Knowing she was already annoyed at him, he didn’t voice his opinion. It would only serve to aggravate her further.

When they entered Franco’s apartment, Mitchell was inside, talking to Franco. The tension in the air made it difficult for Cash to tell if Franco had sold them out. He was standing in front of the fake Copley painting, holding a glass of wine and swirling it in his right hand.

He turned when Cash entered, his face unreadable.

“What’s the good news?” Cash asked, feigning confidence he didn’t feel.

Mitchell stared at him and glanced at Lucia. “Franco is finishing his assessment.”

“I don’t like to be rushed,” Franco said over his shoulder. “Great artwork deserves time and a thorough review.”

Cash didn’t react to anything Franco said. Mitchell must’ve known that he and Franco were acquaintances, but he wouldn’t know that Cash had the resources to pay him off to suit his purposes.

“Look at the lines, the brush strokes and the shading. Copley had many works of art, but this is one of my favorites. I know it well,” Franco said. He circled the canvas on the easel, looking behind it.

“Then it’s authentic?” Mitchell asked.

Franco made a sound like he wasn’t sure. Out of the corner of his eye, Cash noticed Lucia’s eye twitch and her fingers slide toward the opening of her handbag. The FBI was listening, likely poised to spring if Franco revealed them as liars.

After a long pause, Franco turned and smiled. “Yes. It’s authentic.”

“You’re sure?” Mitchell asked.

Franco appeared incensed. He was keeping that part of his personality true to form. He did not like being questioned. He considered himself an art authority, absolutely beyond reproach. “I am sure. Don’t bring me a hot item and put me in jeopardy and then question my assessment. It’s insulting.”

“What about the painting makes you think it’s hot?” Mitchell asked.

Franco smirked and strolled to his liquor bar. “First, I read. Second, I know my artwork.”

He winked at Cash when Mitchell’s back was to him.

“Are we done here?” Cash asked.

Mitchell nodded. “We have another stop tonight. We’ll take my car. Leave the lady.”