Green-Eyed Monster (11 page)

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Authors: Gill Mcknight

Tags: #Kidnapping, #Stockholm Syndrome, #Contemporary, #Romance, #(v5.0), #Fiction, #Lesbian

BOOK: Green-Eyed Monster
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“Come on, Vic. She was a bitch, a dirty, two-faced con artist.  I was
way
out of my league. I just wanted to stiff you for that big fat bank account and our itty-bitty joint one. Okay, okay, so I’m a bitch, too, but wasn’t that one of the things you used to love about me?” She pouted defensively.

She was a very attractive woman and knew it. Her looks and guile had taken her far in life, but under her hardcore materialism ran a mischievous wit and charm that had actually been the glue in her relationship with Victoria. They made each other laugh, they were in synch, and they were real with each other, warts and all. In fact, if they had never become lovers they would have been firm friends. It was this base foundation of actually
liking
each other in their expensive, shallow, high-maintenance world, where honest feelings never flourished, that held them tentatively together—even now. Especially now, when in the midst of their acrimonious split, they shared a joint problem. They’d both been played for fools. They had both been belittled and beggared by the same scourge. Now they had a common enemy and a common goal. And they knew they worked well together—like the tag team from hell.

“You realize I had to hire practically an entire corporate law firm to broker a deal over my back taxes?” Victoria finally snapped. “The world and his wife noticed the way my money was whizzing around the globe this week. I might as well have stashed it on a roller coaster with fireworks.” Victoria shook her head, exasperated. “Of all the stupid, selfish, ill-thought-out schemes. Why did you do it, Ginette?”

“I wanted more than you were offering.” Ginette explained as simply as she could. What was the problem here?
You move in with a millionaire and you become used to the luxury. You become addicted to the lifestyle. What’s not to understand?

“I mean, the offer of my own place and a secure job was fine…” Her finger traced an imaginary pattern on the bed cover. “I still have that, right?” She popped a panicked glance at Victoria.

Victoria sighed and merely nodded at her ex’s audacity. She just hadn’t the energy to scream at her until she turned blue and a nurse with a lot of drugs had to be summoned. So instead she muttered, “Just tell me every stinking little detail…again.” Ginette’s shoulders relaxed a little.

“I met her at work. She was another one of those big geeky weirdoes we seem to breed. Anyway, by that time, I was looking for a better settlement. Our arguing had gotten us nowhere, and I knew you were never going to budge. I just wanted some of the surplus money that always seemed to be lying around. Tons of it sitting there all unspent, doing nothing but earning boring old interest.” She had a dreamy look on her face as she remembered all those beautiful zeros.

“So you had her fired and withheld the bonus on the code she delivered? Then you used that same money as a bribe for helping you stage a phony kidnapping, so you could strip my accounts.”

“Yes. It was a fantastic, uncomplicated little plan. In fact, apart from my withholding her bonus, getting her fired, and blaming you, the rest of it was more or less her idea. All I wanted to do was empty an account or two. She thought up the fake kidnap as a decoy for a huge ransom. It was the perfect cover for the withdrawal of all our funds and meant I could fleece you for even more.” Ginette was very frank now that the cards were on the table and at least some of her chips were safe. “All she seemed interested in was her ‘honor’ and her bonus. Fixated would be the word I’d use. Like I said, she came over as a big geek.”

“Except all along she was playing you, turning the plan to her own advantage. You dropped me and all the ammo she needed right into her lap. You said she was ex-FinCEN. She’s probably been monitoring me for years, building up her own private profile, planning a move like this.”

“If I’d have known you were so crooked, I might have loved you more.” Ginette sighed. She was working her way back to Victoria’s good side, she could feel it.  “Why on earth did you trust her? How did you know she wouldn’t just run for the hills with the money, leaving me locked in a car trunk somewhere?”

“I checked her out. Jeez, I’m not
that
stupid, Vic. The FinCEN  information was correct. She’s Michaela Rapowski, a technical analyst, and she didn’t seem too greedy or creepy or anything.  I mean, credit where it’s due. She had me running around those woods popping off my pistol so she could drag you out of that furnace. So don’t tell me I misjudged the character of the woman I chose to con us out of millions.”

Victoria fell silent. She was still struggling to process the behavior of her supposed malefactor. To defraud her, then escape, and then U-turn to save her from a fiery death trap? It told her something. There were clues buried in the actions, motives in the intent, but she was too tired and muddled to connect the dots.

And at the moment, it was the least of her worries.

Ginette chattered on. “I mean, I couldn’t even tell her I was going to drug you. I had to let on you were a drunk, for God’s sake.”

“Of course she seemed perfect. She had your number from the start. She was laughing up her sleeve at you all the time, you jackass.”

“Well, I don’t see why you’re so angry with me.
You’re
the one who gave her access to everything else.”

“I know that.” Victoria actually did shout now, only it came out as a strangled rasp. Her throat and lungs were still raw. “She made me think it was a simple kidnap gone wrong. That she was after you.
Then
she made me think you were ripping me off left, right, and center. Made me believe she was helping me hide my money somewhere safe away from your greedy grasp. All the time she was stashing it away for herself.” Victoria slapped the bed in frustration. “All along, I thought I was outmaneuvering her. But she had me right where she wanted me, thinking exactly what she wanted me to think. She played me for an absolute fool, with those big blue eyes and dumb-ass dimple.” Aha, at last, the root of the problem, Ginette mused, perched on the edge of the bed. It seemed obvious to her there was more going on for Victoria than just monetary loss. But Ginette needed her to focus on the important things, like lost millions. And her own meager portion of it. This money had to be recouped, and quickly, before the trail went cold. After that, Vic could do whatever she liked with the two-faced scumbag.

“At least I didn’t sleep with her,” she said casually. It bugged her a little. This was the first salient sign that she and Victoria were truly over and moving on.
And
with that dirty, double-crossing con artist, of all people.

“Oh, shut up.”

“We know who she is, we know the starting point is Monaco, and we know we have the resources to find a pin chip in a haystack.” Ginette got down to business.

Victoria stared at her, face stern, jaw clenched. It seemed her razor sharp mind was whetted for action. There would be no ridiculous emotions clouding her mind this time, blinding her to cold, hard facts and realistic thinking. Ginette could see the old anger rise in her eyes.
Yes, arise, my beauty. Arise and avenge me!
“You could have sunk me, Vic, but you didn’t. Instead, you were my Get Out of Jail Free card. I owe you, but let’s face it, when have I not? And more than anything, I want my money back. She stole from me, too, Vic. Granted, not as much, but it was all I had. Let’s go after her. Let’s hunt her down and kick that high-up, sexy ass. Let’s show her nobody messes with Victoria Gresham and enjoys the dawn.”


Two days later, Victoria sat at her poolside table, reading the business pages and sipping a tall vodka and tonic. Her cell phone beeped. She checked the caller ID, then lifted it to her ear. “Ginette…And you’re certain…The cash definitely came out of Monaco as sterling…Then back to U.S. dollars. Wow, somebody’s trying to cover their trail. Okay, I want you to discreetly make inquiries. My guts say the Caribbean, too. Check out all the currency rates…No, the closer we get, the less I want my name used…Good.” The call ended.

She sat and watched the breeze ripple the surface of the pool.

Her net was slowly closing in on one Michaela Rapowski, aka Mickey. She smiled to herself. How droll. The casual nickname she had given her was perhaps the only honest thing between them.

She had instructed her lackeys to retrieve passport, immigration, family, insurance, educational information, anything they could find on the elusive Mickey Rapowski, though she doubted they’d find much. Ginette was following trails of sterling turned dollar out of the last depository they knew of in Monaco. Somewhere, with a little bit of luck, Mickey would eventually let her guard down and feel safe enough to start spending her ill-gotten gains.

Hopefully, they could pick up on it.

Sipping her drink, she allowed herself a small, appreciative smile. The double-cross was perfect, crystalline in its perfection now that she could see right through it. For the hundredth time she played the moves over in her mind.

Victoria now realized that coming out of the Financial Crimes Enforcement Network, Mickey knew exactly who she wanted to target. Probably long before she even joined Victoria’s company, she must have been auditing Victoria’s darker dealings.

Playing on Ginette’s greed, she allowed herself to be ripped off, set up as a victim, and inveigled into Ginette’s criminal plan. She had actively helped Ginette with the finer points, making it seem like a team effort.

Victoria had smiled grimly at her own little maxim:
There’s only ME and MEAT on my team.
Seemed Mickey played the same game.

All Mickey had to do was make Victoria believe she wasn’t the intended kidnap victim. Then she could plant a seed that something was going wrong with the ransom payment and let Victoria think she was being double-crossed by Ginette. That part was easy because it was true.

Even when it all went pear shaped and Victoria had overpowered her, Mickey had stayed calm and let the game run on like a roulette wheel. Leaving the ball to drop where it may.

It landed well for her. Victoria had picked up on the finances moving around and panicked, as she was supposed to.

Mickey deliberately let Victoria witness the accounts Ginette had given her passes to being emptied, the money crossing the globe along the well-worn illegal routes Victoria knew like the back of her hand.

Her fears about Ginette’s sticky fingers were reinforced. All along, Mickey kept her off balance, playing on her fears that her tax evasion hoards were being siphoned off by Ginette. Mickey had worked Victoria’s greed in the same way she worked on Ginette’s.

Had the seduction also been planned, to keep her distracted, befuddled? Because it had worked like a charm. Spellbinding her even into the present day. Victoria sighed, heart heavy.

Like a fool, she handed over her other account details, and then slept as her funds were casually transferred over hours and borders. Channeled through her own money-laundering routes and offshore companies. When it was done and the money was where she wanted it, Mickey awakened her, and kissed her, and no doubt would have slept with her again, before disappearing for good.

Ginette’s surprise arrival had at least saved that little embarrassment. What a strange night it turned out to be. Mickey crashing through a burning building to save her life. Ginette’s bumbling appearance saving her heart. Or had it?

Could she ever put a price on what Mickey had really stolen?

Could she ever recover any of it?
Run. Run as far and as fast as you can, Mickey. I’m pulling the world apart to find you.

Chapter Nine

Mickey looked across the white stretch of sand to the small oceanfront condominium resort she was now the proud owner of. The azure Caribbean waters of Cayman Brac caressed the bobbing hull of her gleaming thirty-eight-foot sloop.

She stood on the oiled teak deck of the
Green Eyed Monster
as she gazed back down into the aquamarine depths. Somewhere down there, if the light was just right and the tide was turning, she swore she could see the same emerald green that made her pulse flutter and her heart leap. She stood transfixed and watched as bittersweet memories washed through her, ebbing and flowing like the warm waters below. Loneliness lapped at her empty hull of a heart, pouring into every chamber. She waited, rolling on idle waves until it came, that soft caressing green, like Victoria’s eyes. Taking a deep breath, Mickey pushed off the wood deck and dived in.

Soon she was several hundred yards away from her vessel, farther than originally intended, but she couldn’t resist following a small darting school of French grunts along the coral head.

Bedazzled by queen angelfish and shy blue chromis, she was happy to follow their lead. It was therapeutic to watch the swirling colors and beautiful marine life of these balmy waters.

Over these past few weeks, she had come to know this small bay intimately. From now until midmorning, it belonged to her and her alone, except for the local fishermen who puttered by in their small pirogues on their way to drop nets. It had become her daily custom to dive or swim in the tiny cove in the early morning before returning to her business venture.

Green Eyed Monster
had become a regular sight for this small sea-bound community. Mickey whiled away her days sailing and getting better acquainted with the little lady she hoped to spend the remaining years of her life with. Her plan was to disappear for a few years just bumming around the Caribbean and east coast of the Americas on her favorite thirty-eight-foot girl.

A quick glance at her watch indicated her ABT, or “actual bottom time,” was closing. She headed back unhurriedly, relaxed and happy at starting another day on this beautiful island. She surfaced and shucked her cylinder and fins onto the broad bottom rung of the stern ladder. She hoisted herself up first, hauling her kit behind her, and was soon safely onboard. She had discarded her mask and regulator before she noticed the set of wet footprints across the teak deck. Frowning at a foot size not her own, she cautiously monitored them as they crossed to the deck hatch and disappeared below.

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