Brief Encounters. Suzanne Forster

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      She forced herself to breathe, even to smile. “It is a mistake. All you have to do is call Art Long at First National Heritage. He’ll explain everything.”

      Art would probably lose his job over this, she realized, if he hadn’t already. She didn’t want that to happen, but she didn’t want to go to jail, either.

      “Art Long has been taken into custody. He’s cooling his heels down at the federal building right now. And by the way, he cracked under pressure and told us everything.”

      She stared at him in amazement. “You arrested Arthur? What did he do?”

      “Conspired with you to rob First National Heritage.”

      “No! That’s ridiculous. Lynne Carmichael and I got a loan from the bank. I did sign her name, yes, but I had her permission, and she’s my business partner.”

      Gaines nodded, not particularly interested, apparently. “Long gave you some papers today and a book,” he said. “A gift, I believe. Where is that book now?”

      Swan shook her head, confused. “The organizer?”

      “Yes.”

      “It’s right there.” She pointed to the floor between the commode and the vanity. In her haste to get her panties down, she had set it there.

      Gaines took some rubber gloves from his coat pocket and tugged them onto his hands. He picked up the organizer, gave it a cursory once-over, and then opened the bathroom door a crack. “Hey, Joe, you want to witness this?”

      From her vantage point, Swan could see Gerard as he sat on a chair in the far corner of the bedroom. He looked forlorn and frightened. Joe Harris stood over him, scribbling notes on a small pocket-size pad. Gerard glanced up and shrugged, obviously as much in the dark as she was herself. Harris said something to Gerard that she couldn’t hear. Gerard nodded weakly and stood up. He offered Swan a tiny smile and then left the room.

      Special Agent Harris pulled on his own pair of gloves as he entered the bathroom. “Find it?” he asked.

      Gaines casually waved the engraved book to prove he had it.

      Swan’s stomach was in knots as both men focused on her. She felt like a lab specimen. “What does this have to do with the loan papers?” she asked.

      Neither man replied. The silent treatment in full swing. Gaines plucked out the cashier’s check she’d picked up from Art Long yesterday. He handed it to Harris, who studied it for a moment and then slipped it into a clear plastic bag he’d taken from his pocket. As Harris was doing this, Gaines picked up the penknife that he’d planned to operate with and carefully cut a razor-fine slit down the inside of the book’s back cover. Swan was aghast. He’d ruined it! Wasn’t her underwear enough?

      “What are you doing with my check?” she asked Harris. And then to Gaines, “Look what you’ve done to my organizer!”

      “Evidence,” Harris said.

      “Evidence,” Gaines said.

      “Evidence of what? I’ve done nothing wrong. It’s all a mistake. Lynn will tell you that!”

      Gaines arched his brows. “This is a mistake?”

      Swan watched in silence as he carefully removed a piece of paper that had obviously been hidden between the book cover and its back piece. He held it up for her to see. It was another cashier’s check of some sort. It was made out to Lynne Carmichael and the amount brought a gasp of disbelief.

      Four million, nine-hundred-thousand dollars and no cents.

      “What’s that?” she whispered.

      Harris waved the plastic bag that contained her check. “Altogether, that’s five million in embezzled bank funds.”

      Too much was happening too quickly. Too many questions were ricocheting inside her mind for her to grasp even one and examine it closely. Swan staggered back, lowered the lid on the commode and sat down. “Is there more?” she asked.

      Harris frowned. “What? Money?”

      Swan shook her head. She should be going crazy, but instead she was going numb. “No. Surprises. Are there any more surprises?”

      Gaines gave both the book and the check to Harris, who was apparently in charge of submitting them as evidence. “I’ll tag and bag these,” Harris said as he stepped out of the bathroom. “It’ll take a few minutes. You got her?”

      After Harris had left, Swan glanced pleadingly at Rob Gaines. “I really need you to explain what’s going on. This is all a mistake. I didn’t know anything about that check, the big one.”

      For a long moment he simply stood there studying her as he slowly peeled the rubber gloves from his hands. She wondered if he was going to speak to her at all, when, finally, he leaned against the edge of the vanity.

      “There’s no mistake, Ms. McKenna,” he said. “You and Lynne are up to your necks in this, however—”

      He seemed to be deliberating again, but she sensed there was more on the man’s mind than bank robberies. Possibly a lot more. Possibly her.

      “However what?” she asked.

      “Well, there might be a way that we could work something out.”

      “Okay,” she said slowly. She had a bad feeling about where he was going with this, but, at the same time, her vital signs were whipping themselves into a frenzy again. Her skin was feverish and her hairline was damp. He seemed to be able to do that to her under just about any damn circumstances.

      “Just tell me what you want,” she implored.

      That triggered a glance from him that nearly made her vital signs stop. It had all the smoldering intensity of an illicit touch and Swan was rocked back by it. But she’d barely had time to register the impact when she was wondering if the whole thing had been her imagination.

      All at once he was the government agent again—standing tall, arms crossed with the authority of a hanging judge, and when he spoke, it was cool and professional.

      “The FBI can count on your cooperation then?” he said. “We have a tough case on our hands, and you could be useful to us.”

      She nodded. “Of course, I’ll cooperate. Tell me what’s going on.”

      Gaines relaxed his stance and began. If he’d been harboring any prurient urges, they were well concealed. “Your friend, Art Long, is one of the best con men in the business,” he explained. “It’s taken us years, but we finally have him where we want him. Only there’s a problem. Long didn’t work this scam alone. Someone inside the bank helped him, someone highly placed. We want that person, too.”

      “But how can I help? Lynne and I don’t work at the bank. Surely you must know that.”

      “We do. But we also know that Ms. Carmichael and Art Long have been seeing each other socially. We know Long has visited this house and spent time with both you and Carmichael.”

      “You’ve СКАЧАТЬ