Authors: Susan Johnson

Wine, Tarts, & Sex (30 page)

BOOK: Wine, Tarts, & Sex

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“You goddamn, son of a bitching, no-good—”

“Don’t waste your breath. Just send the papers and the money ASAP or plan on spending your retirement years in jail. It’s your choice. If I get what I want, you get all my copies of the flash drive.”

“I’ll see you go to hell for this!”
Leo shrieked.

Janie held the phone away from her ear for a second, then said, “I’m hanging up now. If you have any questions, talk to Roman’s office.”

Flipping the phone shut, she handed it back to Roman.

“I’ll give Vinnie a heads-up,” Roman said, punching his speed dial. “You were awesome, baby.” He grinned. “Remind me never to get on your bad side. Hey, Vinnie, listen closely. Here’s the deal.”

Thirty-five

While Janie’s party was enjoying a summer day at the lake, Liv was wine-tasting downtown, and Jake was busy with construction; Leo was strategizing with his personal accountant.

The custody papers were in the works. He’d given orders to his attorneys shortly after talking to Janie.

But Leo didn’t lose gracefully.

He planned on suing for custody just as soon as the flash drives were in his hands. If she said she’d give them all back, he was pretty sure she’d do it, because she wanted Matt and the money. Even if she held on to a copy for insurance, it wouldn’t matter, since she was going to be in jail so fast her head was gonna swim. This wire transfer deal Dan had figured out was
his
insurance against Janie. Stupid bitch. As if she thought she could put one over on him.

In fact, Leo and Dan were discussing the means by which to accomplish two objectives in regard to the money. First, Leo didn’t want Janie to actually get her hands on his fifty million. Second, she was going to be implicated in an illegal activity when the fifty million was wired to her account.

“Now, one of your black-box accounts will source the money,” the accountant explained once again. The discussion had been going over the same ground for some time, Leo’s manic state doing a number on his concentration. “The account is registered in the name of a Panamanian company. It’s perfectly clean.”

“You’re
positive
my name’s nowhere on this account?” Leo queried. Again.

“Each account is just designated by number, Leo,” Dan explained with the patience of a saint—or a man who would profit nicely from this deal. “The bank doesn’t divulge names. Not even to foreign governments who lean on them. We’re talking about offshore banking on some minuscule, unheard-of island in the Pacific. Offshore banking and anonymous corporations are all that sustain the economy on the island since bat guano ran out, if you can believe it. Look, if the Russian mafia likes it, it’s good enough for me.”

“So once more for the record. You’re telling me this scam is going to work, and not even a whiff of my name will be in the goddamn air—Pacific or otherwise.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for the past hour. Relax. This is a simple transaction.” And lucrative; Dan Wygren’s cut was a mil. “One more time, Leo. The money goes into Janie’s account in New York. As soon as it hits the account, we jerk out all but one mil—with Herbie Austen’s help.” Leo had an inside man at the bank. With all his offshore accounts requiring regular laundering, it was a necessity. “Then we call the feds. No names, a throwaway phone.” Dan shrugged. “They’re used to anonymous calls. The feds are told to look for some Colombian drug money sent via Moscow that’s been wired to Janie’s account. Then it’s up to her to deal with the blowback.”

Leo nodded. “Okay—okay. We’ll go with it. You’re good, Dan.”

“Thanks, Leo, but it’s all pretty routine. These wire transfers go on millions of times a day. The sheer number of transfers only adds to their anonymity.”

Leo leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers under his chin, and smiled for the first time that day. “It should work.”

“Guaranteed, Leo. With Herbie on the inside cleaning things up, it’s a sure thing.”

“The bitch actually thought I’d hand over fifty million to her,” Leo muttered. “Cold day in hell.”

“Two days from now, she’ll find out for herself.” Dan wasn’t a people person; he didn’t empathize. He lived with two cats on the Upper West Side. The cats didn’t care if he didn’t talk or feel what they were feeling and his neighbors in the co-op appreciated a quiet resident.

Leo lifted the lid on his humidor. “I like when things go smoothly like this,” Leo said, taking out a Cuban cigar.

“It’s the only way. When you’re dealing with money, you want everything to be a certainty.”

Leo smiled. “A certainty. Excellent.”

Thirty-six

In the interest of safety, everyone stayed at Deer Lake save for Chris, who came back to work with Liv.

“Apparently the next stage in divorce number four for Leo Rolf is about to take place momentarily,” Chris explained the morning he returned to the vineyard. “Janie’s waiting to pick up signed custody papers at a FedEx in White Bear, then the following day, she’s supposed to get her big chunk of dough.”

“We hope. Leo’s not the kind who gives away either his kid or his money. Although I realize he’s in a bind this time, but still, I don’t trust him.”

“Between Roman and Janie’s husband, I’d be inclined to put my money on Roman. I get the impression with him anything’s possible.”

“Fingers crossed,” Liv said, holding up her hands.

"If Leo has more money than God, he can afford to pay off his exes.”

“The problem is, he doesn’t want to. He’d rather spend his money in court trying to fuck them over. But, look, we’re not going to change Leo Rolf nor impact this nasty situation. So, I’m all for wishing Janie the best and getting back to my life. How selfish does that sound?”

“Not so much. Roman’s there for Janie. She doesn’t need us worrying about her.”

“Might Amy be back in a few days then?”

“That’s what it sounded like. Apparently all this divorce stuff is on some fast track—so Leo can get his flash drive back, I suppose. After that, Janie’s talking about going to Europe.”

“With Roman?”

“I couldn’t tell. He doesn’t give anything away; talk about a sphinx. And when Janie lapses into her wheedling sweet-talk routine, he really shuts down. But, hey, with her fifty million, she can find lots of friends besides him.” Chris jerked his head toward the fields. “A matchmaker I’m not. Let’s go back to work. I’ve missed these killer grapes we’re growing. Should we call back the crews or wait until we know Leo isn’t going to send out any more goons?”

“I walked through the vineyards yesterday when I came home. We’ll be good for another few days. I prefer being cautious.”

Chris didn’t ask about Jake. He’d been warned not to by his wife. But Liv didn’t look as though she’d slept much.

An hour later, Janie walked into a FedEx office, gave her name, and walked out with an envelope. Ripping it open the second she got back into the car, she quickly scanned the pages of legalese.

“Here it is: ‘Full and complete custody of Matthew Tabor Carter Nicholas Rolf to Janie Jewell Tabor Rolf,’ she read. “You look,” she added, a note of apprehension in her voice as she handed the document to Roman. “Tell me it’s real.”

“First, let’s see if it’s signed.” He flipped through the pages and nodded. “Leo’s signature.” Then he scanned the appropriate passages and looked up. “You’ve got it, baby.”

Janie slumped back in her seat and drew in a deep breath. Slowly exhaling, she turned to Roman and smiled. “We’re halfway home. Now it’s up to you, darling, to pull off the next stage.”

“Two o’clock tomorrow we’ll know for sure.”

“Hey—hey.” Janie sat up. “What’s not to be sure of? You told me this was a slam dunk.”

“Nothing’s for sure until it’s over, baby. That’s all I meant. But I have a good feeling about this one. My man’s in place. Leo’s lawyer, I expect, will be where he’s supposed to be. The second the first keystroke lights up my screen tomorrow, it’s a go.

“The hand-off of the flash drives should take forty seconds or so. Longer, hopefully; Rudy has orders to stall. But Leo’s stooge is going to want to check out the drive and get back to Leo ASAP. Once Leo knows he’s in the clear, Rudy will give us a call. The wire transfer should begin shortly after, and once it does, we’ll only have thirty, forty seconds tops to shift the transaction. You know what to do now?”

“When Rudy calls, I wait for him to say,
‘Go.’
If he does, you start looking for the codes you want.”

“There, you see? It’s gonna be simple. I’ll do the rest.”

What the rest entailed was using Roman’s considerable expertise hacking into secure Web sites. Not to mention, he had the advantage of having all Leo’s bank account numbers and passwords already coded into his program.

“I don’t suppose we can celebrate yet,” Janie said wistfully.

Roman squeezed her hand. “After two tomorrow, baby, we’ll have a real celebration.”

“Somewhere far away, I hope. I know you’re not afraid of Leo, but I am. Fifty million is more than he gave all three of his former wives. Way, way more.”

“Don’t worry. I have a charter jet standing by. We’ll fly anywhere you want.” Roman also had plans to tell Leo that if he valued his life, he’d forget he ever knew Janie. He was pretty sure he could be convincing.

Janie grinned. “Lucky Matt and I have our fake passports. ”

“It’s not such a bad idea.” Roman had several, including a Canadian one like Janie and Matt.

“I’m not going to sleep a wink tonight,” Janie grumbled. “I don’t know how you can be so calm.”

Roman had meditated on a Japanese mountain for six months once. He knew how to block out the world. An asset in his business—maybe even a necessity. “I’ll stay awake tonight and watch over you and Matt. Will that help you sleep?”

“Maybe you could do something else for me to help me relax,” Janie murmured, gazing at Roman from under her lashes.

Roman grinned. “You got it, babe.”

Thirty-seven

Janie had been staring at the clock on the car dash so long, her eyes were hurting. “God, I’m seeing stars,” she groaned.

“Five more minutes,” Roman murmured, not looking up, his gaze trained on the screen of his laptop balanced on his knees. “It’s almost over, baby. Almost over,” he said under his breath, his fingers poised over the keys. “Get ready. Rudy should be calling soon. Four minutes, twenty seconds and counting.”

Amy was watching Matt at the lake, and Janie and Roman were parked outside Coffee Talk using their Wi-Fi connection, waiting for their two o’clock Wednesday deadline.

“Here we go! He’s early!” Roman rapped out. “Where the hell’s Rudy?”

Just then the phone in Janie’s hand rang, and she put it to her ear.

“Him?” Roman snapped.

“Yes.” Her heart was beating like a drum. Rudy had said, “Go,” and hung up.

“This is it, babe.” Roman’s voice was calm now, his fingers were flying over the keys, keeping time with the string of numbers dancing across his screen. “Come on, come on,” he whispered, as though urging on the person keying in the bank routing numbers on the other side of his computer screen. “Come on, asshole, I’m in a hurry. There, there—
yes
! A few more digits now, dude, and it’s hel-lo Switzerland,” he muttered, keystroking like a fiend. “Now . . . now . . . almost finally . . . finally . . . yes, it’s in!” he crowed, hitting the power button hard and snapping the lid shut on his laptop.

He didn’t want anyone to have even an extra nanosecond to pick up their trail.

“Buckle up.” His voice was all business. “We’ll pick up Matt and your luggage and head for the airport,” he added, tossing the laptop into the backseat.

“Is it over? Did it go
through
?” Janie clamored, dropping the phone. “Tell me this
instant
!”

“You’re a very rich woman, baby,” Roman said, pulling out onto Main Street. “You have fifty million in your Swiss bank account.”

“I didn’t even
have
a Swiss bank account before I met you.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he said with his usual restraint. Then he turned and gave her a playful smile. “Happy?”

“Have you ever lived in a trailer?”

“Close—an apartment in a bad part of town.”

“Then you’ll understand when I say I’m over the moon in every possible way! I adore you, absolutely, positively, forever and ever. And I’m taking you on a long vacation to Europe right this very minute!”

“We’ll see.”

She punched him hard. “Don’t you
dare
say that!”

“Okay, I can be away for a couple weeks anyway.”

“Puur-fect.” Janie had every confidence she could keep him interested longer than two weeks. “Two weeks is
just
perfect.”

Thirty-eight

BOOK: Wine, Tarts, & Sex

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