C.J. Miller - Taken by the Con

Lucia would need to find another way to approach Young or some other angle to use. Maybe she could get in touch with someone else in the company, perhaps someone lower on the food chain. Starting at the top wouldn’t have been her preferred technique, but Benjamin had suggested Young and had warned her to keep things friendly. This case had many victims, and the public and media were watching closely.

Once they were outside the Holmes and White building, Cash spoke for the first time since before the interview.

“You know he’s lying, right?” Cash asked.

“What makes you think that?” Lucia asked. She suspected Young was withholding information, but Cash was along to lend his insights.

“He has a tell. It took a few questions for me to notice. He looks at his left ring finger and then he lies. Interestingly, his ring finger is bare. Is he married?” Cash asked.

“According to the file we have on him, yes,” Lucia said.

“He’s cheating on her,” Cash said.

“How do you know that?” Lucia asked.

“Gut feeling. He had this way of answering the questions. He thinks he’s in control and he thinks he can do whatever he wants.”

Interesting observation. Arrogance and control went with the territory. “We’ll follow up.”

“Do you want me to call Georgiana? I could take her to dinner and see if I can learn anything from her.”

Imagining Cash on a dinner date with the beautiful, younger woman annoyed her and Lucia couldn’t answer that question objectively. “Talk to Benjamin about it.”

“Is that how this partnership will work? You’ll pass me off when you don’t want to discuss something?” Cash asked.

Lucia continued toward the car. “It’s not a partnership. Benjamin sent us out together to handle these interviews. In future tasks, hopefully you’ll be assigned to work with someone else.”

“I like working with you,” he said.

“Why?” Lucia asked, drawing to a stop and looking at him. Few others did. Either she was accused of going by the book or being too impulsive.

“Why do I like working with you?” he asked.

At her nod, he rubbed his chin. “You’re smart. You’re strong. You’re spunky.”

“Spunky?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said. “You’re making this fun.”

She sensed something unsaid. “I guess that’s something. I think you’re angling for something from me and I need to be up-front with you. I feel badly about your son and I appreciate that you were honest about your situation, but I won’t interfere in a domestic matter.”

He blinked at her and held up his hands. “Understood.”

“Let’s finish these interviews. Don’t you have a happy hour to attend?”

* * *

Preston Hammer’s Georgetown townhouse was located in a small community where ten million was the going price for houses. Hammer’s was four townhomes gutted and converted into one large, stately unit. Lucia knocked on the door, surprised when Hammer answered the door himself.

Lucia showed him her badge. “We spoke on the phone, Mr. Hammer.” She introduced herself and Cash.

Hammer stepped back from the door and gestured for them to come inside. The interior wasn’t what Lucia was expecting. The foyer was stacked with brown moving boxes, each labeled in precise printing.

“Relocating?” Lucia asked.

Hammer gestured at the grand Juliette staircase, oak handrails, the shiny hardwood floors and the insets along the wall containing artwork illuminated with custom lighting. “Do you think I can afford to live here? After what Holmes and White did to me, I’m lucky I have food to eat.” He mumbled something else under his breath Lucia didn’t catch. “Come into the kitchen. We can talk there.”

Cash wandered over to one of the pieces on the wall. “Is this a Monet?”

“Interested? It’s headed to auction in a few days,” he said. Hammer started down the hall and Lucia and Cash followed.

“That artwork is probably worth more than this place,” Cash whispered to Lucia.

One of Cash’s areas of expertise was art forgeries. If Hammer was liquidating his assets, he hadn’t saved much of his eight-figure salary for a rainy day.

The kitchen was large, extending almost the length of the houses. Butler’s pantry, gleaming granite countertops and maple cabinets indicated luxury living.

“Your former employer tells us you were let go because Clifton Anderson reported to you,” Lucia said. Leonard Young had also implied that Hammer should have caught the accounting fraud before it reached massive proportions. She dangled the information to garner his reaction.

“Anderson did report to me. He also reported to ten other managers between his level and me. No one caught him. I was the scapegoat. Highest paid non-executive. Holmes and White wants me to take the fall.”

Lucia didn’t want Hammer to become so mired in anger that he couldn’t answer her questions. “Clifton Anderson is good at what he does. Holmes and White isn’t the first firm he’s duped during the course of his career,” Lucia said.

Hammer walked to the wet bar and opened the top cabinet. “Doesn’t change anything. They needed someone near the top to take the heat. The press has been all over me. Do you know how many death threats I receive every day? Angry people want their money back.” He threw a glass against the wall and it shattered. “News flash! I don’t have the money. I don’t have a dime to my name. Where do these people think I invested my money? The same place they did. Anderson robbed me right along with everyone else.”

That explained where Hammer’s money had gone. “I’m sorry to hear that,” Lucia said. Hammer had been through an ordeal, but his reactions were overly volatile. Was he under the care of a psychiatrist? On medication?

“What about you two?” Hammer pointed at Cash. “Are you working this or did your boyfriend tag along in case I went crazy?” Hammer took another glass and set it on the counter.

Denials about Cash’s relationship with her sprang to mind. Remembering her training, Lucia checked her words before she spoke. Defensiveness would make her look like a liar. “I already explained that this is my colleague.”

“He didn’t show me a badge,” Hammer said, pouring a large amount of scotch into the glass.

“I’m not an FBI agent. I’m a consultant,” Cash said.

Hammer took a long swig from his drink. If it wasn’t his first of the day it would explain his strange, erratic behavior. Most people didn’t think it was wise to question the FBI while they were investigating a crime in which they were involved. “Right. You can call him a consultant if you want.” Hammer took another swallow of his drink. “You two are sleeping together.”

If he hoped making accusations would throw her off the reason she’d come, he was wrong. “I’m here to learn more about Anderson and what it was like to work with him. If you’re planning to make incorrect guesses about people, then we can finish this interview at headquarters.” No one liked making the trip to the FBI’s interrogation room.

Hammer set his glass down hard. “I’ll tell you what I know, but there’s nothing new that I haven’t already told you people a dozen times.”

Lucia walked Hammer through what he knew about Anderson and how the scheme had unfolded. He didn’t reveal anything she hadn’t read in the case file. While she spoke, Cash wandered to the sliding glass door and looked out into the yard. She didn’t blame him for being drawn to sunlight and the outdoors.

“Tell me more about being in the upper echelon at Holmes and White,” Cash said, turning away from the door as the conversation lagged.

Hammer poured himself another drink. He wasn’t pouring more than a finger or two at a time, but he was drinking steadily. “Imagine being the king of your own domain with a personal assistant to take care of your every need. You hire people and you fire them at will. You’re available around the clock, but when you have down time, it’s spectacular. Five star hotels and the best restaurants in town. Wine and women and parties. I lived the life and I loved it.”