Chapter 31

 

They were dealing with a master manipulator and accomplished con man, Penelope realized as she drove home from Amber’s apartment. Their young computer genius had said she would need more time to check out Frank Morrell’s various aliases, and the Heist Ladies had agreed to meet again in a week to see how she was coming along.

Already, Pen had to admit she was impressed with their progress. The police had spent six months investigating the robbery with no success, and they’d shown no interest in going after the con man once they believed the necklace wasn’t worth much. The Ladies had managed to identify their suspect and find the discrepancy in the museum’s paperwork. With luck, they could put the two together and get someone convicted of this crime.

The crime. Pen steeled herself for the worst. Well, the very worst was the way things stood now—no resolution at all. But next worst would be if they caught Frank Morrell too late, if the beautiful necklace made by her grandfather had already been handed off. It could be in the hands of some unscrupulous collector who would never let it go or, heaven forbid, have made it to those in the business of moving stolen goods. It might have been torn apart, the stones sold individually or even recut. She couldn’t bear to think of it.

She resolved to focus ahead, one step at a time.

Naomi had gone for the day but left Pen a light supper in the fridge, a salad and a nice white wine to go with it. Pen carried her plate out to the veranda with its sweeping view of the city below, thinking all the while about what she’d heard today. Such a terrible thing, those who were out to cheat and steal from others. It broke her heart to think of the elderly people who fell prey to those sweetheart scams and were almost always too embarrassed to admit it, even to their families, much less the authorities. She had to remind herself that she, too, was over seventy and could well be considered a prime target for one of those men.

Who am I kidding, she thought in disgust. I’ve already been a target. And the horrid man got away with my most prized possession. Her fork clattered to the plate. She couldn’t take another bite.

The telephone was ringing when she walked back into the kitchen.

“Pen, it’s Amber. I’ve got some news.”

“Already?”

“Frank Morrell traveled from Phoenix to Grand Cayman using the name Franklin Woodward. He was on a plane within two hours after he left your house that day.”

“No wonder the police couldn’t track him.”

“I have this on a conference call with Sandy and Gracie standing by. Shall I open their lines?”

“Oh, by all means. This is exciting! We have to share it.”

The other two voices joined the conversation. “Aren’t the Cayman Islands a prime spot for untraceable offshore accounts?” asked Gracie.

“Used to be,” Sandy said. “It’s become trickier in recent years, but Morrell may have found a way.”

“Do you think he went straight there to deposit the cash from my check? He must have.”

“Most likely.”

“And what about my necklace? He could put it into a safe deposit box there as well?”

Gracie spoke up. “If that’s what happened, how can we get to it—the cash and the necklace, I mean?”

“Amber, can you somehow hack into his account there and just bring the money back to mine?” Pen asked.

“Well, I don’t …”

Pen had to keep in mind there was a banker in the group. If Amber had ever been involved in such shady—and illegal—dealings, it wouldn’t be wise for her to admit it.

“There would be passwords and several identity safeguards in place,” Sandy said. “Without the user name, passwords and answers to security questions I don’t see how it could be done. Plus, we don’t know which of his many names he used to set up the bank account. I’d venture to say it would not be the one he used to travel there.”

That made sense, they all agreed.

“And we don’t know which bank. If you begin trying various accounts in various banks, it’s quite possible they’ll pick up your server identity and you’ll be shut out. Or caught and apprehended.”

“True,” Amber said.

Why was it the bad guys got away with these shenanigans while those trying to right a wrong stood the chance of arrest? Pen pondered that thought but a better idea came to her.

“So, let’s go there. It’s the weekend coming up. Can everyone take a couple of days to get on a plane?”

Her voice held so much excitement it generated a buzz of approval from the others.

“We can figure out where he’s staying, can’t we? We’ll spy on him and see which bank he goes to.” This from Gracie.

“It’s not a large place. We’re likely to spot him walking down a street, right?” Amber’s idea.

“Hold on a minute,” said Sandy. “Even in a very small place we could spend days just hoping to spot him. We need a better plan going in.”

“I’ve already checked the hotel guest registers on the island and there’s no one under any of the aliases we know about,” Amber said.

“Okay, then it’s going to come down to some old-fashioned lying,” suggested Gracie. “Let’s see … I’ll call each place—Amber, email me that list—and I’ll say that I need to reach my, um, my aunt who is visiting the island. It’s a family emergency. But she’s—she’s staying with a friend and I don’t know the man’s name. I’ll describe him—”

“Ooh, better yet,” said Amber, “say you can fax or email a photo and ask if they have that guest staying with them.”

“A mug shot or driver’s license picture?”

“No, no. I can make a photo,” Amber assured them. “Mom won’t mind. Okay, gotta go.”

“Mom won’t mind?” said Gracie and Sandy when they heard the click on the line.

Pen decided she didn’t need all the details. “All right, then. Gracie, you start with your calls to the hotels. We’ll see what Amber comes up with. Meanwhile, I have an idea.”

The four-way call ended and Pen went to her desk and booted up her computer. A quick check showed eleven p.m. flights tomorrow night that would put them on the island by noon the next day. She put four seats on hold.

Fifteen minutes later an email with a photo attachment arrived from Amber, subject line: What do you think?

The woman is my mom, she’d written. Think they look like a fun vacationing couple?

The photo showed Frank Morrell standing beside a lovely woman with caramel skin and Amber’s unwieldy hair smoothed back and held with a clip. Granted, Frank’s expression was less than exuberant—they’d only had his driver’s license to borrow from, after all—but the setting was tropical, the body attached to the face was of roughly the same build as his and the flowered shirts gave the whole thing an air of authenticity. Coming through electronically, it just might work.

Already replies from Gracie and Sandy cheered the effort. Gracie added that she’d called four hotels so far, another six to go. She assured them she would be sending the photo out to the manager at each place. If she found the right hotel, she said, she would personally put on a maid’s uniform and get into his room. Pen would have her necklace back!!

Pen liked the addition of the exclamation points. Their chance of success was beginning to feel real.