Andrea Kane - The Line Between Here and Now

“That’s great,” Marc said, casually watching John’s reactions. “What about your contractors? Do you have all those lined up?”

John paused for a sip of coffee. But this time he kept his game face intact. “Sure do, other than a few estimates that are still coming in. Everything should gel within the next week or two. Luckily, it’s supposed to be a mild winter. That’ll make it possible to break ground right away.”

“So you’re moving forward aggressively on this project?”

Morano’s lips curved slightly. “I move forward aggressively on everything, Rob. Otherwise, I never would have snagged this opportunity before the slew of other developers who are now kicking themselves.”

That was Marc’s cue.

His brows arched-just a fraction. Not enough to be imposing. Just enough to be inquisitive. “The original developer…” He skimmed through his notes, as if trying to recall the name. “Paul Everett. Did you know him?”

An easy shake of the head. “Never met the guy.”

“My notes say he was killed about a month before you bought in, even though no body was ever found. I guess I sound like a bad spy novel, but do you think it’s possible his murder had something to do with this project?”

John’s teeth gleamed. “You do sound like a bad spy novel. The truth is, I have no idea why Paul Everett was killed. Like I said, we never even met. Most of the contractors I’m dealing with are the same ones he hired, since they’re the best in the area. They all have spotless records. And none of them has spoken badly of Everett, or implied that he was shady in any way, if that’s what you mean.” A shrug. “But who really knows the private life of another person? He could have been killed over anything. I feel bad for the guy, but I’m not worried about my contractors. They’re all insured, well respected and highly recommended.” It was Morano’s turn to look quizzical. “Why do you ask?”

Marc shrugged. “Just an overactive imagination, I guess. It’s certainly not on my list of questions. Part of me was just wondering if you ever worried that the project was jinxed.”

That elicited a rumble of laughter. “Jinxed? Hardly. This project is a grand slam. The casino will boom, the hotel will be sold out year-round, tons of vacationers will reap the benefits and I’ll be a very rich man.”

“Sounds good to me.” Marc scribbled down a few final notes. “In fact, I wish I’d come up with this idea. My job doesn’t even pay enough for me to stay in your hotel overnight.”

“I tell you what,” John said, rising from his chair. “I’ll arrange for you to enjoy a complimentary weekend as soon as we open. In return, you can write a follow-up article describing your experience, which I have no doubt will be incredible.” He stuck out his hand.

“I can’t wait.” Marc grinned, shaking Morano’s hand. “Interviewing you has been a pleasure, John.”

“Thanks. When will the article appear in the magazine?”

“Either next week or the following week’s issue would be my guess,” Marc replied. “Do you have a business card with your contact information on it? I’ll email you the specifics once I know them.”

“Certainly.” Morano fished in his pocket and pulled out a card. “There you go.”

“Excellent.” Marc gathered up his writing materials. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

“You do the same.”

Morano’s smile faded the minute the door shut behind Marc’s retreating figure. He waited until he heard the car drive away. Then he picked up his cell phone and punched in a number.

“We’ve got a problem,” he informed the person at the other end. “And it could mean trouble.”

Casey spent the morning leaning over Ryan’s shoulder, then following up on anything he produced. Intermittently, she called Amanda to check on the baby’s condition. What she heard didn’t sound good. Neither did Amanda. She sounded as if she were coming apart at the seams. And who could blame her?

The clock inside Casey’s head ticked loudly.

They needed more time. They didn’t have any.

Her lips tight with frustration, Casey paced back over to Ryan, folding her arms across her chest and tapping her toe on the floor.

That did it.

“You know, I don’t work well with people breathing down my neck, boss,” Ryan flat-out stated. If he didn’t speak up, he’d lose his mind. “Not only does it drive me nuts, it also slows me down.”

Exhaling sharply, Casey walked away and began fiddling with one of Ryan’s gadgets. “Sorry. I just hear the sheer panic in Amanda’s voice and I feel helpless. I don’t do helplessness.”

“I hear you. But I’m on the verge of hacking into John Morano’s bank accounts. I want to see if he’s got the same kind of pattern going as Paul Everett did-whopping bank balances, equally whopping withdrawals. I also want to see if he’s paying the same twenty grand at the same six-week time intervals as Paul Everett was. If he is, then it’s a safe bet that the payoffs have to do with the hotel construction. If not, then Everett was in over his head about something else. Either way, we need to know.”

Casey nodded. “We also need to know if his payment methods are the same-cash, rather than bank transfers. To me, that screams organized crime. This isn’t a kidnapping, so it’s not ransom money. And big wheels who extort money do it through anonymous wire transfers to overseas accounts, to places like the Cayman Islands.”

“Yeah, all the data seems to be pointing in that direction.” Ryan’s brows knit in concentration. “Interesting. As hard as it was to break into Everett’s account, it’s harder to break into Morano’s. Anyone less talented than me would never get through.”

Despite her somber mood, Casey’s lips twitched. “You really should work on your self-esteem, Ryan. It sucks that you think so little of yourself.”

A shrug. “Just being honest. You hired me because I’m the best. And I am the best. I’m just wondering if, after Paul Everett had to be dealt with, whoever dealt with him decided to tighten the reins so it would be near impossible to get into John Morano’s… There!” Ryan exclaimed, leaning back and pumping his arms in a “yes-s-s-s” motion. “I’m in.”

“Okay, you win.” Casey was appended to his side again. “You’re a techno-god. I bow to your genius. Now let’s see what you found.”

They both peered at the screen as Ryan scanned through a list of bank entries and withdrawals. “Look.” He pointed at a series of lines. “Same pattern. Same dollar amount. Same time frame. But still ongoing.” Ryan angled his head toward Casey. “Maybe that explains why he’s still with us and Paul Everett is-in whatever capacity-gone. Maybe Amanda’s boyfriend refused to play nice anymore. And that made him a liability rather than an asset-especially if he threatened to report the blackmail to the cops.”

“What would make him do a one-eighty like that?” Casey asked. “First he’s playing ball with the bad guys and then he suddenly stops-why? You can’t tell me that love for Amanda transformed him into another man-not when it meant risking jail time. No real-life relationship is that strong.”

Ryan snorted. “This is me you’re talking to. I don’t deal in romantic crap.”

“Well, something made him stop. Something or some one. ” Casey was thoughtful for a moment. “Let’s talk about Lyle Fenton. You said that he was the one holdout in terms of lining up contractors.”

“Yup. That’s true with Everett and it’s still true with Morano. He didn’t sign on with either of them. I don’t know what he wants, but I’d love to ask him. He’s clearly holding out for something.”