Lisa Gardner - Touch & Go

Anita started with denial, transitioned to confusion, then appeared simply shell-shocked as Levesco rained down piece after piece of the embezzlement puzzle. Sixteen years of phony invoices from nonexistent vendors.

“What? I would never.”

Over eleven million dollars defrauded from Denbe Construction, then funneled through offshore bank accounts.

“I don’t even know how to do something like that. I’m in operations, not finances. I don’t even know our billing systems anymore.”

During which time, Anita purchased several cars and one house as cash transactions.

“My husband and I are debt averse. If you look at my bonuses for each of those years, you’ll see we paid for those items with legitimate income.”

Three kids paid through college.

“I make a good living. Again, look at my tax returns. Six hundred thousand in salary covers three kids in college.”

The scholarship for her youngest?

She flushed. “I’ve already spoken to two detectives about that. Justin offered the scholarship to my youngest son. His decision, not mine.”

Interesting, since Justin wasn’t around to comment.

“Ask Ruth Chan! She issued the checks. Signed by Justin. She’ll vouch for the arrangement. It was hardly a secret. Everyone in the company knew.”

And eight vacations in the Bahamas in the past six years?

“We like the warm weather. Besides, it was nice of Justin to offer his time-share.”

A small hiccup. The Denbes had a time-share in the Bahamas? News, but given all the ground they’d been racing to cover in just forty-eight hours, hardly surprising that they’d missed it.

Last visit by Anita Bennett was for fourteen days.

“My husband was still recuperating from open-heart surgery. The time away was good for him.”

Paid off one hundred thousand in hospital bills.

“And if you’ll look at my savings account, you’ll see the hit!”

Which was true. While it would’ve been nice to magically discover Anita had eleven million dollars sitting in the bank, her finances were currently depleted. Then again, according to Ruth Chan, the embezzlement money had been sitting in a bunch of fake corporate accounts in the Bahamas until just five days ago. A defrauder who’d been smart and disciplined enough to keep the illicit gains at arm’s length was hardly going to dump them into personal savings now. Most likely, the funds had been moved to a single new account under an alias, probably at another offshore bank. The FBI would work on tracking that next, but such things took time, not to mention a bit of luck.

Poker or blackjack?

“What?”

Receipts. Ten years of receipts for the Mohegan Sun Resort and Casino?

“I was entertaining clients! I don’t gamble. I work in construction. That’s risky enough!”

Brand-new 2008 black-on-black Lexus. Cash.

“My oldest son. His college graduation present.”

New 2011 Cadillac Escalade.

“For Dan. His other vehicle was seven years old!”

Which brought them to a Florida condo in 2010, a Mazda Miata just four months ago. On and on Levesco went. Fake billings here. New purchases for Anita there. Tessa had thought the COO would grow more defensive. Clam up. But instead, Anita picked up her own tempo, until she was matching the younger FBI agent beat for beat. Which was impressive, really. Not just the amount of money that Denbe Construction had paid out to fake vendors each year, but how unapologetically Anita spent her own income. She made a good living, as she informed her interrogators again and again. Salary, bonuses, lawfully declared on her taxes year after year. And, yes, she spent her money on her family. Houses, cars, vacations. She worked hard, they lived well. She had nothing to be ashamed of.

Around and around they went. Consistent denials of embezzlement, full admissions of major purchases. Finally, Tessa glanced over at Special Agent Adams and nodded once. Nicole had been expecting the signal. She picked up the phone and buzzed the room next door.

Two agents appeared in the hallway. They had Daniel Coakley, picked up fifteen minutes after his wife, between them. Now they led him past the interview room, just as the older FBI agent, Bill, opened the door, ostensibly to get something to drink.

Anita looked up. Spotted her frail husband walking past, and froze.

“What…what is he doing here? You didn’t tell me!”

“Eleven million dollars stolen,” Mark stated crisply. “A family of three, vanished. Do you really think we’re going to leave any stone unturned?”

“But Dan’s health! You can’t interview him. His heart. He gets tired, he needs to rest.”

“And we need answers, Anita. By three P.M. tomorrow. We’re going to keep going till we get them.”

In that instant, watching through the two-way glass, Tessa felt bad for Anita Bennett. She even felt guilty, as bringing in Dan had been her idea. But if she’d expected the older woman to cave, to magically confess all, she was mistaken.

Instead, Anita Bennett simply shook her head. “But I can’t give you answers. I didn’t steal from the company. I didn’t even know funds were missing. And I don’t know what happened to Justin. I didn’t do this. Justin is like family to me. And I take care of my family. Just look at my financial record. That is what I do. Work hard and tend to the ones I love. You can’t squeeze blood from a stone, Agent. You can’t squeeze blood from a stone.”

She stared up at both FBI agents beseechingly.

And in that moment, Tessa, who never trusted anyone, believed her.

“Damn,” she murmured.

Wyatt, who was seated beside her, seconded the motion.

THEY KEPT ANITA BENNETT TILL MIDNIGHT. Then, when her story and her husband’s story never wavered, Nicole Adams personally escorted both back to their home. The task force remained at the conference room table, but no one had anything to say.

“We’ll keep digging,” Nicole’s partner, Special Agent Hawkes, offered at last. “Get an agent down to the Bahamas, see if we can get a description of the person who closed out all the shell accounts. It’s a new lead; we just need more time to chase it.

No one stated the obvious: They didn’t have more time.

“Let’s talk three P.M. phone call,” Wyatt suggested.

Hawkes obliged: “I’m thinking the call to Justin Denbe’s cell will come from a restricted number, probably from another iPhone, given the FaceTime feature. We have Justin’s cellular company on standby to assist us with tracing the source of the call through triangulation of cell towers. That takes time, however, so we’ll want to keep the caller on the phone as long as possible. Ask questions, maybe get confused about the wire transfer numbers, require clarification.”

“We have ten minutes max,” Tessa pointed out. “Remember the instructions: By three eleven the ransom funds must be transferred, or the first member of the Denbe family…”

“You’re thinking of taking the call in the Denbes’ town house?” Wyatt asked Hawkes.

“That’s our current plan.”

Wyatt was quiet for a moment. “Why?”

Hawkes frowned. “Why not?”

“I’m thinking the action is up north. The jacket tossed in central New Hampshire. The requirements of the hideout location, given the logistics of housing that many people while remaining out of sight of cops, locals, et cetera. You take the call here, and odds are, you’re at least three hours away from the party. Or, say, you bring Justin Denbe’s iPhone to my offices. Still take the call, no problem, but now be closer to the heart of the matter.”

Tessa perked up. She hadn’t thought about that, but she liked it. “Their instructions don’t cover where we or the phone have to be,” she pointed out. “Nothing stopping us from heading north.”