Gypped (19 page)

I
nside the house, Norman was busy spreading the account statements out on the dining room table. I can’t believe I missed all the excitement. If I’d been here, maybe I could have tripped him or something. But as Regan said, Griff’s off the streets now. Next we have to get Rich off the money, then off the streets. And anyone else who has their eyes on Zelda’s loot.

The police were questioning Zelda and Regan in the living room.

Norman looked out the window. A patrol car was coming up the driveway. Another one? A guy got out the back and hurried toward the side door. I bet that’s Regan’s husband.

“Regan,” he called, not caring whether he interrupted the questioning. “I think your husband is here.”

“Thank you.”

Regan excused herself from the living room, and hurried through the kitchen. Norman peeked around the corner as Regan and Jack flew into each other’s arms next to the ugly pink stove. Jack lifted Regan off the ground and kissed her, then cradled her head to his chest tenderly, looking like he’d never let go.

“I love you,” Jack said.

“I love you, too. All I could think of was that I’d never see you again.”

I’m going to cry, Norman thought. I really am. When am I going to find love like that? The same time Zelda does. Never. Back to the statements.

A
little before five, Frank was checking all the sets, anxious for the first actors to arrive at the warehouse. They were due in a few minutes.

I just don’t trust those producers, Frank thought. If I were casting for corrupt characters, those two wouldn’t have to audition. All of a sudden they seem nervous. I told them to grab some dinner and come back later, but they’re sticking around.

When I escape this place tonight, I’ll want to celebrate. But I’ll probably just head home.

At the other end of the room, two actors came through the door, carrying hanging bags and looking lost.

“Hello,” Frank called, walking toward them. “Welcome. We’ve got a changing room. I’d love to get a look at your wardrobe. . . .”

Heather and Rich were in the back office. Rich finished a call.

“Did the money get wired out?” Heather asked.

“Not yet,” Rich said. He looked at his phone. “Zelda sent another text.”

A
fter the police left, Zelda took a shower, which made her feel more human, while Regan and Jack collected the drops of tea on the nightstand.

“Let’s hope we don’t need to test this,” Jack said quietly as he twisted the cap on the bottle. He hugged Regan. “We don’t need any more trouble.”

Norman was still sorting papers. When he finished putting everything in order, the four of them began to review Zelda’s statements together.

It didn’t take long for the situation to become upsetting.

Rich had set up three different accounts for Zelda. When they started looking at the monthly statements, they realized that regular wire transfers had started in January, two months after Zelda received the $8 million. The money had been wired to different banks, but Zelda had no idea what the transfers were for. With each passing month the amount wired out increased.

“He must have been testing the waters,” Zelda said incredulously, “to see if I was paying attention. I wasn’t, so the transfers started getting larger.”

“Did you sign anything that gave Rich authority to make these withdrawals?” Jack asked.

“Not that I remember. I signed a lot of papers. I didn’t always read the fine print. It’s my fault. I trusted Rich. He told me that I should focus on getting my business off the ground and spend my time doing what I do best. Coaching. He’d worry about my finances.”

Regan hit the table with her palm. “Another ruse! Con men like Rich say that all the time, especially to people in the arts. Whenever someone handling your money feeds you that line, run as fast as you can in the other direction. What they’re really saying is, ‘Do what you do best while I do what I do best—rip you off.’ ”

Zelda looked frightened. “Wow, Regan.”

“I’m sorry to upset you. But it’s true.”

“I’d better freeze my accounts this minute.”

“Let’s do it,” Jack agreed.

When Zelda got on the phone with the bank, she was told that a $2 million transfer was in the works.

“What?” Zelda shrieked. “No! I want that canceled immediately!”

Jack took the phone, identified himself, and asked to speak to a bank officer, who assured him that the transaction was canceled. He told the officer not to give any information to Rich Willowwood, who would be notified that he was no longer Zelda Horn’s financial advisor. Zelda faxed a letter to the bank with the same information. She tried to call Rich for an explanation, and sent him a text, but he didn’t respond.

“What do we do now?” Zelda asked anxiously.

“At least he no longer has access to your money,” Regan said, trying to reassure her.

“But looking at those statements ... we haven’t added everything up but he already transferred several hundred thousand dollars.”

“We’ll get a forensic accountant to find out exactly where that money went,” Regan said. “Hopefully Rich put some of the money into investments you’re not aware of.”

Zelda shook her head. “I doubt it. I can’t believe this is happening. If I get my hands on him—”

“His office is in Sherman Oaks?” Jack asked, looking down at a statement. “Have you ever been there?”

“No.”

“Where does he live?”

“Santa Monica. I don’t even have the address. Last year I wanted to send him a Christmas card and he told me to send it to the office. In the back of my mind it always bothered me that he wouldn’t give me his address. Should I call Gladys and ask if she knows anything about these transfers?”

“You might not reach her,” Regan said, then added, “Gladys is shooting a commercial tonight.”

“What?” Zelda asked.

Regan told them about her conversation with Maggie.

“Gladys is in a commercial for a vitamin company?” Norman asked, incredulous.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Regan said. “It does seem funny given the timing of Zelda’s investment. But Maggie’s the one who sent in Gladys’s photo. Gladys thinks she’s being taken out for a birthday dinner.”

Zelda looked at Regan. “A birthday dinner? I feel terrible. I didn’t realize it’s her birthday. That’s a good reason to call her.” Zelda picked up her phone and dialed Gladys’s number. No answer. She left a message. “Hi, Gladys. It’s Zelda. Happy birthday! I should have had a cake for you at the party last night. Call me when you can. Bye.”

“How sweet,” Norman muttered.

“Now what?” Zelda asked. “This is devastating. I can’t figure
out how he expected to get away with withdrawing two million dollars from my account. Was it
all
going into the vitamin company? This is just unbelievable! I don’t care if I signed a piece of paper or not!”

Norman pointed to the glass bottle containing the drops of tea. “Hmmm. Rich knew you usually signed papers without really studying them, but he couldn’t take the chance you’d really read them this time. He had to make sure you were a little out of it.”

“But why now? I’d realize pretty quickly the money was gone. Two million dollars is twenty-five percent of all my money! I would never have put that much in one investment.”

“Zelda, it’s Friday night,” Jack said. “Nothing more can be done about the wire transfers until Monday. But I can call my office now and ask them to start checking Rich’s background.”

“That would be great. Thank you. I’d hate to have to wait until Monday to keep going with this.” She smiled wistfully. “It’s going to be a long weekend anyway.”

“I heard,” Jack said sympathetically. “Regan told me. That situation with your father’s wife might turn out okay. But if you’d like, I can have my office start looking into her background as well.”

Zelda hesitated. “I feel so guilty about it now. What happened to Regan today could have been tragic. Rich wiring money out of my accounts is terrible on a completely different level. Obviously. Those things are so much worse than being upset about who my father married. Bobby Jo is his wife. I can’t have you do that.”

“You can’t stand her,” Norman reminded Zelda. “And don’t forget they got married at a drive-through chapel sitting in the back of a cab!”

He does speak his mind, Regan thought.

“Okay, then.” Zelda sighed. “But only because Norman would never let me hear the end of it if I said no.”

“Perfect!” Norman cried, patting Zelda’s arm. “Jack, I’ll write down that information for you.”

“Thanks,” Jack said, following him into the kitchen.

“It seems like ages ago we were on that game show, doesn’t it?”

“A lifetime ago,” Zelda answered sadly.

“I didn’t say that to make you feel bad.”

“I know you didn’t.”

Regan’s phone rang. She picked it up and answered.

“Hello.”

“Regan, its Maggie!”

“Oh, hi, Maggie.”

Zelda sat up in her chair.

“I’m at the shoot,” Maggie whispered. “Gladys seemed surprised when we pulled up to the warehouse but she thanked me for what I’d done. The minute we walked in the door she told me she had to use the bathroom. I decided I might as well, too, and followed a few steps behind. She went straight to a back office! Rich’s girlfriend answered the door! I could see Rich sitting at a table. Isn’t that weird?”

“Yes, it is,” Regan answered quickly. “What’s the address?” She scrawled it on a piece of paper. “We’re on our way.”

T
he commercial shoot wasn’t going well. At the moment they were filming the couch potato couple in their final scene. No one could accuse the actor of not being committed to his work. Weights in hand, he looked jubilant as he and his TV wife ran around the couch. Seized by an actorly impulse, he turned to blow her a loving kiss, tripped, and fell to the ground. On the way down his forehead grazed the ragged corner of the plywood coffee table. Several pieces of fruit that had been borrowed from the crafts services table fell to the ground and rolled away.

“Cut!” Frank called.

Crew members rushed to the actor’s aid. The thespian jumped up and started running in place. His forehead had been scraped. “
I’m fine. Perfectly fine
! Just a few splinters.”

The makeup girl, armed with tweezers, removed the splinters and patted his nose with a sponge. “Good as new.”

“YES, I AM!” the actor bellowed. “Ready to go.”

Maggie, watching from the side, shook her head. This guy must be desperate for work. But I should talk. I make up a story to get Gladys here and have to shop for an outfit for her, just so I could act in something like this? Maggie looked around. Where is she? I know she’s not thrilled to be an actress named Ava. I hope Regan and the gang arrive soon. That should be interesting.