Chapter 16

 

Finishing her conversation with a banking client, Sandy hung up the phone and turned in her chair at the sound of a light tap at the partially open door.

“Come in.”

A woman stepped in, smiling and holding both hands out wide. She wore trim black capris, a slim-fitting bright pink T-shirt and pink and black bangle bracelets.

“May I—?” Sandy’s jaw dropped. “Mary? Oh my gosh. Mary!”

“What do you think?” Mary said, unable to contain her smile. “The hair—is it too much?”

Mary’s formerly lank, blonde hair was now cut short, with soft spikes at the top and wispy ends hugging her ears, not to mention a fresh strawberry-blonde color and highlights. The adorable style suited her features and made her look twenty years younger.

“I love it!” Sandy rose from her chair and approached, turning Mary to see the new style from all sides. “It’s just—I’m amazed at the difference.”

“The women’s center had a free makeover day with some visiting beauty consultants. They showed us how to do our makeup, and the haircut is courtesy of discount-senior day at the beauty school.”

“I never knew you had those little freckles,” Sandy said.

“I used to hide them with makeup until the lady suggested that less-is-better when it comes to being over forty. I kind of like the result myself.”

 

“Definitely. Still—wow. You’ve done something more.”

Mary laughed out loud. “Been getting in on every workout class I could manage at the gym. Billy doesn’t mind. He’s been so supportive since I started working there. Size sixteen, down to a twelve. I’m aiming for ten.”

Sandy hugged her. “I’m so proud of you.” They both came out of the embrace with tears in their eyes.

“Pen’s making lunch for us at her house, where we’ll go over the information we’ve gathered on your ex and decide what steps to take next. You have to come along. The group is going to be every bit as impressed as I am.”

They took Sandy’s car, driving up the winding drive on Camelback Mountain to Pen’s home with its incomparable views of the city below. Mary grew quiet, no doubt thinking of the money Clint had cheated her out of, the fact that with a portion of it she might be living on a much better scale. Sandy pulled into the circular drive and saw Gracie’s minivan and Amber’s little Prius already parked there. They got out and walked up the travertine steps to the beveled-glass front door.

The reactions were exactly as Sandy had anticipated—puzzlement when the Ladies first spotted Mary, then incredulity followed by congratulations and joy. Amber, in particular, couldn’t take her eyes off the transformation she’d witnessed. She was like the awestruck little sister as they took their places at Pen’s dining table.

“Naomi made us this huge Mexican salad,” Pen said, “and there’s a spicy dressing here in the pitcher.” She scooped portions onto plates and passed them around.

“So, fill me in,” Mary said. “I know you’ve already told me about some of your progress. Did Clint’s golfing buddies give you any clues?”

Pen told how she’d used Stan Piccard’s name to come up with the pretense of the charity sponsorship of a new concert hall, and how the information had gained her access to Clint’s top-floor offices downtown. “He seemed genuinely interested in being considered for the job but somewhat distracted by his current project—too distracted to ask any serious questions about what ours would entail. Which is good, since I had no specifics and am not very adept at making up such fabrications at a moment’s notice.”

“Amber and I have been finding more background on your ex,” Gracie said. “It seems he got his contractor’s license within months after the divorce became final. He must have been studying for the test and making his applications even while you were with him, Mary.”

“I was in such a daze then,” Mary admitted. “Living much of the time with my parents, working beyond exhaustion. Barely seeing Clint, even when we were in the same room.”

“So, then, with his fresh new license in hand,” Amber said. “He leased the top two floors of that high-rise downtown. He did not build the whole place—Pen verified that during her visit. We think he took cash he’d hidden from the courts and furnished the offices to make an impression on new clients.”

“I think it’s leased furniture,” Pen said with a sniff. “It simply is not quality stuff, and the art is only a step above dime-store.”

“He would give clients some song-and-dance about his experience and convince them he was a bigtime contractor. It was a pretense—he’s mostly done small jobs—a strip-mall shopping center here and a little office building there, mainly out in the suburbs.”

“My guess,” Sandy said, “after looking at his financial claims, is that he padded expenses on these little jobs and stashed cash in a variety of accounts. Amber ferreted out some of those during her initial search.”

“He’s been putting feelers out for bigger jobs for a year or more. Now it looks as if he’s found one.”

“Pen did manage to get the information that Clint’s newest project is taking place in China,” Sandy said. “He and little-blondie are going there at the end of the week.”

“Clint’s audacious, I’ll agree,” said Mary. “One of those guys who thinks he’s a lot smarter than he really is. But even so, doesn’t this seem quite a bit out of his league—taking a job in a foreign country, any country, much less China? I mean, there’s tons of construction right here in the valley—all over the U.S. Why China?”

Shrugs all around. No one seemed to have an answer, although Pen pointed out that his lawyer had a Chinese name—Woo could merely be an Americanization of Wu. Perhaps that was the connection.

“So, what does that mean to us? Can we somehow gain access to the money?” Gracie asked.

“I’d hoped we could find enough information about his finances and accounts to handle this completely aboveboard,” Sandy said. “I know. It’s the banker in me coming out.”

Pen spoke up again. “It’s just that it’s difficult to get a judge to review a divorce decree, much less make any changes to it. Once the papers are signed, it’s usually a done deal. I once researched it for a book.”

“Unless it’s proven there was fraud by one of the parties,” Gracie added.

“And that’s exactly what happened,” Mary insisted. “He hid assets, moved money out of the country …”

Amber set her fork down and picked up the tablet that was nearly always with her. “Let’s check. I like Gracie’s idea of our getting access to the money.”

Nods all around.

Amber focused on the tablet, typing access information at sites she had visited before, while the others finished their salads. A scowl creased her forehead. She tapped a couple more links then held up the tablet. “Ohmygod—this one has been cleared out. There’s less than a thousand dollars where there was previously more than a hundred thousand.”

Mary practically wilted in her chair. Amber continued to slide her fingers across the surface of the screen.

“And this one … the account no longer exists.”

“What!” Gracie was on her feet. “How can that be?”

Amber shrugged. “Lots of reasons, I suppose. He spent it, he moved it somewhere else …”

“Or he knew we were looking and he hid it again.” Mary’s small freckles stood out against her pallor.

“Look, we cannot assume anything at this point,” Pen pointed out, her tone sensible. “We know he is working on a large business deal right now.”

“Large deals require the movement of large amounts of money,” Sandy said. “I agree. Let’s do some further checking and see where it leads before we panic.”

“Has he left for China yet?” Mary asked.

“I don’t think so. The conversation I overheard indicated they would leave on Friday.”

“Then I’ve got two days to track him down and confront him,” Mary said, her brows pinched together in a frown.

Sandy and Pen exchanged a glance.

“That probably wouldn’t be a good idea,” Sandy said. “Right now he’s not thinking about you and isn’t suspicious that we’re looking into his finances.”

“We believe he’s not.” Amber had gone back to her salad.

“Right. If he saw an inquiry on his credit record, he would assume it came as a result of the information I requested on behalf of my make-believe charitable project.”

Mary sputtered a little. “But what if he gets away with all that money? Puts it somewhere untraceable and then gives the judge a shrug and makes him believe I’m crazy for even thinking I could get part of it.”

Sandy reached out and patted Mary’s hand. “That’s not how it’s going to work. We’ll track the money first, then we’ll print statements and documents to prove it exists. Then we’ll get a lawyer to look at everything and try to get it before a judge. There’s no way we’re going to jump the gun here and make things worse.”

Mary sighed. “Well, it can’t get any worse than before. At least now I’m not homeless and penniless, even though my first few paychecks are going to repay Penelope for her help with my apartment.”

Pen smiled at her. “Let’s just take each thing as it comes. There is absolutely no rush on the loan.”

“So what is our next step?” Gracie asked. She made the first move to help clear the empty plates. “I mean, if it turns out he’s moved his money to China, is there any real possibility we can get at it?”

No one had an answer for that question. When Pen served flan for dessert, conversation came to a halt.

“I hate to eat and run,” Sandy said, “but my assistant manager can only cover for me so long.”

She glanced toward Mary, who took the hint and said she would love a ride back where she could catch her bus. Amber busied herself at her touchpad for a few more minutes. Gracie looked at her watch and announced she’d better be home when her kids got there.

Amber hung back after the others left.

“What do you think about the possibility Mr. Holbrook moved his money to China?” Pen asked as she cleared dishes and tidied the kitchen.

“It’s doable,” Amber said. She fiddled a little more with something on her screen. “If he has the recipient’s IBAN number and SWIFT or BIC code of their bank, he can transfer money there every bit as easily as he could send it from Phoenix to Los Angeles.”

Pen pondered the information. This was all becoming so complicated.