A few days after I returned to Seattle my friend from the bank called with a report which I immediately submitted to the Seattle police. Although I was embarrassed, I figured they might be able to get him for something.
The detective assigned to the case listened to everything I told him and gave the appearance of being very interested in Ryan. However, from watching TV shows, I figured they’d do a little investigation to make me feel like they were trying to pin something on him, then blow me off.
Instead Detective Warner called the next day and asked if I could come to his office. He said he compared my complaint to some others he had worked the year before, and there was a common thread. He had run Ryan’s identity through the system to see if anything turned up.
• • • • •
Warner leaned back in his chair, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Got a little bonus for you. You’re gonna love this. Your darling ex-lover has a record of frauds a mile long. It dates back to the time he was a juvenile. Of course, most of the underage records are sealed, but we’ve got enough reports of women being ripped off to possibly put together a case that will fly.
He held out a sheet of paper. “Look, this is way against protocol, but take this list of his other victims. Just don’t tell anyone where you got these names. I’ll deny it. I guess most women don’t want to admit in court that they’ve been played, and we haven’t been able to get any of these women to agree to do more than file a complaint. You might want to touch base with some of them.
I stared at the list. So I wasn’t the only one. Well, maybe I was the only one with a vendetta strong enough to want to see him behind bars and suffering. I said, “I’ll testify. I want to cook his ass.”
Warner said, “Maybe if you’re able to get some of the others together, you could convince them to testify. If you could pull that off, we’d be able to build a strong fraud case. We tried our best, but we finally had to let it go. I’d love to nail that guy.”
I tapped my finger against my chin while I thought. It made sense. “Okay, I’m in. Maybe hearing each other’s stories will do it.”
“Well, the more of you who testify, the stronger the case. My guess is he’d be sent away for a long time, and he wouldn’t be a pretty boy for very long.”
While I was digesting what he’d just suggested, Warner added, “By the way, he doesn’t waste any time. We found out Lover Boy has already hooked up with a very wealthy divorcee in the Lake Washington area. Here’s her name and address. You might want to contact her, too.”
• • • • •
Revenge is a fantastic motivator. I contacted as many of the other women as I could. Four of the six replied and agreed to meet for a drink at The Westin Hotel in downtown Seattle. The other two said they had no desire to parade their vulnerability in public.
As each of the four arrived it was like looking into a mirror, and all of us noticed the similarity in our appearances. Apparently, dear Ryan always hit on one type of woman. And, we’d all adored him.
It was an interesting group, our little gathering of scorned, bamboozled women. The five of us certainly looked like sisters. In fact, if you didn’t look too close, we even could have been quintuplets. Well, outside of being conned by Ryan, we were also all cunning and smart. Ryan was going down! Hard.
And so began a new sisterhood. You may have heard about the Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants? We were the Sisterhood of the Conned Cougars, and we were out for blood.
• • • • •
I hated to admit it, but Bruce Payton had been so right about the women being able to stack up sales. I found myself working overtime as orders poured in. Our new team left last year’s figures in the dust, just as Bruce said we could. Whenever Julia actually was in Seattle, and not stuck out in Paradise, she strutted around like a proud peacock, constantly reminding everyone the stunning success of CRS was due to the clever idea she and Matt dreamed up. I guess she was entitled to those few moments of glory, considering she had to spend two to three weeks a month cooped up in the prison offices way out in the boonies of Paradise Hills with a mean, cold fish like Lena.
From the little I’d seen of her, I had begun to realize Julia had two personalities. Most of us saw the semi-nice, engaging one that was generally visible, but occasionally the cutting, nasty one she kept beneath the surface broke out. I think I would have quit before subjecting myself to spending all that time with Lena, but like she said, it was her job to keep things moving smoothly. Maybe that was the source of the nasty Julia. I suspected if it ever came down to a real power struggle between them, Julia would prevail. She could be a barracuda.
Now and then Bruce dropped into town unannounced, and Matt joked that Mr. Perfect always called first to make sure Julia would be out at Paradise Prison. One evening, over a bottle of superb chardonnay at Portofino, I filled Tree in about Bruce’s strange visits.
She did an exaggerated eye roll. “Sometimes you’re so dense, Kimberly. You really don’t see it, do you?”
“See what?”
“The thing that’s as plain as the nose on your face, and by the way, speaking of noses, you should thank your good genes for that great one.” She put a finger at both sides of her slightly broad nose. “I’ve been thinking about getting mine done. What do you think?”
“I’ll let you in on a secret. Instead of thanking good genes, I really owe thanks to Dr. Brenan. Want his number?”
She laughed, held up her hand and began to tick off conclusions on her fingers. Index finger—“From what you said, it’s pretty certain Bruce and Julia had a thing once upon a time;” middle finger—“they’re tied at the hip in business, but he obviously doesn’t want to be around her.”
I nodded. So far it seemed right on.
Ring finger—“You say your sleazy boss is married to a society woman, but appears to be a player.”
“Absolutely. So what are you getting at?”
She wiggled her pinky. “Easy. I think Mr. Hot Pants has a girlfriend in Seattle. He needs to make sure Julia’s operation stays on track, so he pops into town on the government’s dollar when he’s certain she isn’t here, grabs a little piece on the side and zips back to his trophy society wife. The dude is having his cake and eating it, too as the saying goes.”
It seemed so simple the way Tree put it. Why I hadn’t figured it out as easily as she had?
She said, “Now that we’ve solved the riddle of Bruce’s visits, let’s talk about Matt. I hope you’re not getting involved with him. You need this job. Use your head and don’t jeopardize it.”
I smiled back at her while visions of Matt, flexing those luscious muscles, danced around in my head. “Oh, it’s strictly friendship and business. Nothing more. He’s told me quite a bit about Julia and how he maneuvered himself into the position he has. The guy is really clever. Talk about using what God gave him. I’m pretty sure she has the hots for him, although she’s almost old enough to be his mother.”
A playful smile lit her face.
“By the way, he plays up his sexuality to the hilt. Even if he hasn’t slept with her, I think just having him around makes her feel good about herself. In either case, the bottom line is their idea of hiring sexy women and designing outrageous official uniforms did what it was supposed to. Orders are up by more than a third.
She nodded. “From what you said, it sure sounds like business is humming along.”
I tapped my finger against my forehead as though I hadn’t heard what she said. “You know, Matt really acts like he has lots of money. I’m not sure how he affords the Brioni suits and Hermes ties he’s so fond of. He’s such a clothes horse, he could put us to shame. And, he does drive an expensive car. I guess there are a few possibilities. Maybe a wealthy relative left him a bundle, or he has another source of income. I hardly think the answer is that the man really knows how to stretch a dollar.”
A guarded look crept into her eyes. “You can never be too sure—never be too trusting. Maybe you should try to wheedle a little more information out of him.”
I remember pooh-poohing her doubts. “I’m sure there’s an explanation. Just because I got ripped off once, I can’t spend the rest of my life looking for the boogey man under my bed. Anyway, I confess, I’m attracted to the guy. Both his personality and his looks, so under any other circumstances, the place I’d be looking for Matt would be stretched out in my bed, not as the boogey man under it. But don’t worry. I’m not going to make another foolish mistake. Getting taken by Ryan was enough for me. Friendship. That’s all it is. Just friendship.”
She patted my arm. “Keep it that way. Now tell me what’s happening with tracking down that rat Ryan. Did your friend at the bank come up with anything?’
“You bet she did! I proceeded to tell her about my meeting with Detective Warner and with the other women he had conned.
She high-fived me and said, “Well, if there’s anything I can do to help just let me know. He sure figured none of you would risk looking like you’d been naïve. Goes to show he doesn’t know shit about the power of a pissed-off woman.”