Fatal Transaction (Thriller & Suspense, Cyber Crime)

By W. Richard Lawrence

Prelude

“W
e need to kill her.”

Mike sought the easy way out at every opportunity.

Ulrich Levy gazed out the window at the Rocky Mountains. With his back to his men and the sun on his face, he listened to their whining. Mike and the other two men had no recourse but to do as he directed. If they didn’t, they would face deadly consequences.

“What makes you think I’m willing to lose one of my most valuable assets before I’m done with her?” Levy pivoted to face his men.

Of the three, only Mike had the intellect to think on his own, but if Mike had any real ambition, he wouldn’t be one of Levy’s flunkies. The other two were a complete waste of space, throwaways.

“You can’t control her. You have her access codes, you can get by without her.” Mike was stationed a little in front of the other two men. All three hovered near the door of the office.

“Unlike some of you, she still has a reason to be alive. Besides, it’s your job to control her, not mine. So what happened now?”

“She went missing. Again.”

Sara was smart, too smart for her own good.

“How?” Levy advanced a few steps.

When he purchased this building as a hideaway from his Denver Tech office, the walls were cracked and the paint peeling. Those conditions were adequate for the people who worked under him, but his office was given a complete makeover before he moved in. Dark cherry wood molding and floors with matching furniture, imported rugs and expensive artwork, all transformed his office into something more comfortable. This room was out of character with the rest of the building, but that didn’t matter to him. The important thing was that the work he did in this office turned a good profit, unlike his Denver Tech companies.

“She snuck away again today, a little before lunch. And she’s been gone all afternoon. That’s the fourth time in the last three weeks.”

Were these men that incompetent? How could one girl cause them so much trouble?

“How’d you lose her this time?” He glared at the three, waiting for an answer.

Mike glanced at Ryan before shifting his attention back to Levy. “She took buses all over town. He lost her on the fourth transfer as she got on the light rail. She must have known he was there.”

“Why was Ryan the only one following her? He’s not smart enough to track a train through a tunnel.”

The man’s inadequacy for this or any other type of work was only surpassed by his inability to communicate.

Levy switched his focus. “Where was she headed when you lost her?”

Ryan withdrew a half step, “Uh, she, um, got onto the light
rail.”

“Yes, Mike said that. Which one?”

“Um, I, ah, don’t know. I couldn’t see the, ah, number or anything.”

Levy released his breath slowly. “Don’t know?”

“Uh, parking area was full and I, ah, couldn’t find a place to park. Then I got stuck—”

“Which way was it going?”

Ryan pointed.

“East?”

“Uh, no. I mean it was going south. I think?”

“Are you sure it wasn’t north?”

Confusion covered Ryan’s face.

“Step closer, and think real hard.”

“Huh?” Ryan appeared lost.

“I said step closer.”

Ryan advanced a few small steps.

“More.” Levy needed him positioned toward the center of the Persian rug.

Ryan took two more steps.

“Now, think as hard as you can. Think like your life depends on it. Which way was the train headed?”

Ryan stared down at the floor. His jaw clenched tight. After a few seconds his gaze returned to Levy. “I’m, ah, not sure Mr. Levy. I—”

Levy reached inside his coat and extracted his 9 mm Sig Saur P226.

Ryan scanned the room as if hoping for an escape route. Mike and Jarred stepped to one side, out of the line of fire.

Ryan’s large body would stop the hollow points; Mike and Jarred were safe. For now.

Before Ryan could move, Levy placed two rounds into his chest. He was dead by the time his body plummeted to the floor.

The noise from the blast would barely make it out of the office. With cement walls covered by brick and four inches of insulation, the room was nearly soundproof. Besides, in this neighborhood, who’d notice another gunshot?

Ryan’s body crumpled on the Persian rug. At least he’d had the courtesy to confine the mess to a small area. The rug would need to be replaced, but Levy was tired of the pattern anyway.

Casting a glance at Mike, Levy slipped the gun back into its holster. “After you dump the body, replace the rug with something more up to date. Make it Japanese.”

Then he addressed Jarred. “I have an opening for your cousin. He better not disappoint me.”

Levy grabbed his briefcase, “I have another meeting.”

He stepped over the body. Stopping at the door he added, “Jarred, pay a visit to Sara tonight. But keep it light. I still need her able to think and type.”

Chapter 1

Kneeling beside her lifeless body in the dark alley, he pulled her into his arms. He looked into her blank eyes as the driving rain soaked his skin. A streetlight revealed the bullet hole in her temple. Blood trickled out. The deluge washed it away. With trembling fingers he pushed her hair—

“Y
ou okay?” The hand placed on his arm delivered him from the nightmare.

Tami? It couldn’t be. Tami was dead.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.” Derry Conway blinked twice before swallowing.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The woman’s voice was completely different from Tami’s, but her milk chocolate eyes and brown shoulder-length hair were the same.

“Sorry. I—”

“Excuse me.” The woman squeezed past him.

Whirling around, Derry wanted to say more but didn’t have the chance. His gaze followed as Tami walked away. No, not Tami. Someone else with the same petite frame.

She headed toward the restaurant across the lobby.

He wa
nted to stay, maybe have dinner there tonight. To see. See what? He knew it wasn’t Tami, but the desire to see her again was almost overpowering. Common sense kicked in. Seconds after she vanished though the door, he circled back around and resumed course toward his car.

The image of the young lady’s face played tricks in his mind. As he stepped inside the parking garage, the memory of her again transformed into Tami. He tried to remember the woman, but the only form his mind conjured was Tami’s.

Dropping into his car, Derry closed his eyes and pounded on the steering wheel. The pain started as a small leak, opening the floodgates of grief that filled his body.

Why
?

After six years, he believed he was over it. But he wasn’t. Not really. Not today. He banged his fist against the wheel again and stared out the windshield.

That stupid fat Chuck. He lied to me. Yeah, my best friend. And because of him, Tami’s—

Derry drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes. He implored God to help him move past this pain. Again.

***

“You okay?”

The man who blocked Sara’s way gave her the willies.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine.”

He didn’t look fine.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Sorry. I—”

Now he wanted to talk about it.

“Excuse me.” Sara was headed to an important meeting and he still stood in her way. She pushed past him and headed across the lobby.

Stopping at the restaurant entrance, she inhaled deeply. It was now or never.

Sara peered into the mostly empty upscale restaurant, and wondered about her choice of locations to force this meeting.

“Just one?” the hostess asked.

“No. I’m meeting someone. I think that’s her over there.” Sara pointed across the room to a woman in her mid twenties, just a few years older than herself. The woman glowered at Sara. Yep, that was her.

“Please follow me.”

As the hostess led her to the table, Sara prepared for the assault.

“Betty.” Not a question to ensure who this was, or a greeting, just a statement.

The woman waited for the hostess to leave before opening her mouth. “How could you?” Her tone was hard, cold.

Sara slid into the booth across from her. “You left me no choice.” Time to play hardball.

“Look, I told you years ago, when all this blew up in your face, that I wanted nothing to do with it or you.”

“Yes, but you have the connections I need now. Your job in the records department of the State Health Services gives you important access.” Sara refused to raise her voice or lose control.

“I left your world behind. I’m not part of it, and I never want to be part of it.”

“You went through the same thing I did.”

“And I got over it and moved on.”

“So you think—”

“Are you ready to order, or would you like a few more minutes?” the waitress asked.

Sara wasn’t hungry, and this meeting wasn’t about food. “I’ll take a salad. No meat.”

“House salad?”

“That’s fine.” Acid churned in her stomach. Anything more than a light dish would make her pay before the day was over.

Betty ordered a Cobb salad with extra bacon.

Sara wanted to get back to business, to get this over with. She glared into Betty’s eyes, waiting for the server to get out of earshot.

“You think I enjoyed what happened to me? And then to be dragged through the mud, the lies they told. I asked you to help me, but—”

““But I had a life. The start of a good life. A life without the pain. A life that you wanted to destroy.” Betty leaned in, moving her glass of water aside. “I was about to get married. I was happy. I was doing just
fine
. Then you came along and wanted me to testify, to save your butt from the fire. If Casey found out about my past, do you think he would have still married me?”

“If he’s so perfect, he’d understand.” It sounded sassier than Sara meant.

“He would have been out of there in a flash. Men don’t want a woman like you. Haven’t you figured that out yet?”

Betty was right. Men didn’t want to hear the truth, and they definitely didn’t want a woman with her past.

“And I didn’t force you to help then. I let you off the hook.”

“But now you won’t?”

Her words bit. Betty was one of the lucky ones—she had a life, maybe a good one—but Sara was desperate, and willing to do whatever necessary to save herself. Betty would either help her or live with the consequences.

Sara breathed in deeply to calm herself. “Back then, you felt you had no choice. Well, now I don’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice. Whatever problems you brought upon yourself are yours, not mine.”

“I—”

The server arrived with their salads, allowing Sara a minute to regain control over her emotions and think.

Without waiting to make sure the server was out of hearing, Sara plowed on. “These problems that you are referring to are partly your fault.”

Betty leaned back and crossed her arms. “Yeah, how?”

“Someone found out about my past and they’re—”

“Weren’t you let off or something? Acquitted? And, besides, I have nothing to do with your past.”

“They brought counter charges against me, then offered a deal. But if you would have helped, they would be behind bars and I wouldn’t be in this mess. You refused to help me when I needed it.”

“So you went off and did something else illegal, and you’re telling me it’s my fault. You have a very crazy way of looking at the world.”

Sara rose to her feet. “I’ll send the videos to your husband. He’ll enjoy seeing what your childhood was like.”

“Sit down.” Betty softened. “I already did as you asked. I got what you said you needed.”

Sara eased back down and leaned toward her. “Where is it?”

“First, where are the videos?”

“I have them with me.”

“If I give you the new birth certificate”— Betty pointed her fork across the table —“I don’t want to hear from you ever again.”

“You won’t.”
Not if my plans work out that is.

“And I want all copies of those videos destroyed.”

“They will be.”

“How will I know you’ve destroyed them? I can’t trust you. What’s to stop you from coming back to me a year from now and asking for something else?”

The woman was no dummy. Reaching into her pocket, Sara pulled out a jump drive. “Here are all the videos. The only copies I have.”

“So you say.” Betty eyed the jump drive.

“I don’t plan to stick around. With any luck, I’ll never see Denver or Colorado again. So I won’t be here to bother you in the future.”

Betty gave a condescending smile. “That’s why you need the new birth certificate. You’re going to leave the country. Go someplace the police can’t find you.”

“The police aren’t the ones I’m worried about.” The words just slipped out.

Betty reached for the jump drive.

Sara pulled it back. “Where’s the certificate?”

Betty scanned the room, as if someone might care about what they were doing. Reaching into her bag, she eased the brown envelope out. “It’s a duplicate.”

“A copy?”

“No, not a copy. A duplicate. It’ll work as well as the original."

“I'm sending this to the feds. You sure it will work for a passport?”

“Yes, it should.”

Sara snatched the envelope and opened it. Across the middle of the certificate was her new name: “Sara Chelsea Ramos.”

She handed the jump drive to Betty.

“You know, there were some costs involved.” Betty nodded to the paper in Sara’s hands.

“How much?”

“Five hundred.” Betty slid the drive into her handbag.

“And you’re as big a liar and as greedy as everyone else. I know what you had to do to get this. Why should I give you money for something that cost you nothing?”

“Look, what’s to stop me from reporting that one as a fake?”

Folding the certificate and putting it into her bag, Sara stared into Betty’s eyes. “You really are a snake. What’s to say that what’s on that jump drive is the only copy?”

Double blackmail. Neither of them could turn in the other without risk to themselves.

Betty backed off first. “Tell you what, give me two hundred and I’ll forget I ever saw you.”

Sara reached into her bag. “One hundred, I won’t send the videos to Casey, and you won’t report the certificate as a fake.”

Sara extended an envelope with the cash in it. Betty hesitated. Then quickly snatched it.

“Deal.”

At least her greed was easy to satisfy.

Sara rose, leaving the untouched salad behind. She had what she came for. The hardest part of her plan was complete.