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Authors: Vickie McKeehan

Last Chance Harbor (46 page)

BOOK: Last Chance Harbor
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Chapter Twenty-Four

 

S
pending nearly three hours in the car, they went over scenarios about how it might go down with Bethany.

“According to the Internet the address Scott gave you, turns out to be an apartment complex twenty miles outside Camp Parks, a U.S. Army Combat Support Training Center. Thousands of soldiers end up there to get combat ready, sounds like it’s a perfect place to pick up guys ready to be shipped out, right up your girl’s alley.”

From behind the wheel, Ryder agreed. “Large garrison with a variety of rank and file to choose from, officers to enlisted men. And she’s not my girl.”

“I don’t think you should go up to the apartment door,” Julianne cautioned.

“But we might have a long wait hanging around for her to come out. Don’t get cold feet now. What’s the alternative?”

“Confronting her in a public forum might work out better.”

“How exactly do we do that?”

“Leave it to me. I need her phone number though. I don’t suppose Scott was proactive and thought to include that with the other info.”

He laughed. “No. Rude of him, huh?”

“Very. Okay, I’ll improvise. Call your mother. See if she kept Bethany’s message from before and the number that showed up on the readout. If so, there’s a way to get her to bite.”

“Really? How exactly will you improvise?”

“She loves scams, right? I’ll run one on her. Everyone likes something for free. This trip may take a little longer than we thought though. Are you covered at work?”

“I’m good. What’s the plan?”

“For Bethany, it’ll be like a scavenger hunt. I’ve never followed instructions from a ghost before.”

“That makes two of us. Should we feel incredibly silly about this?”

“Maybe. Did Scott actually say Brent had DNA?”

“Yeah. I’m almost as excited about talking to this Cooper guy as I am confronting Bethany.”

“Hopefully we’ll get to do both. As long as you remember to remain cool and collected when you approach her in public.”

“Don’t worry. I’m the epitome of cool.”

“I’m sure you are. Not. Try not to get your hopes up though about ever seeing those drawings again, okay?”

“I know, I know. I’ve prepared myself for the fact that I may never get my hands on those cartoons ever again.”

“As long as you know it’s a longshot. Tell me, are you certain you didn’t misunderstand Scott when he said Cooper was in distress.”

“I know what he said. He was clear that Cooper was having major problems and could use a couple friends right about now.”

 

 

Julianne’s ruse was
simple although it did cost them an extra day to set it up. After obtaining Bethany’s phone number from Ryder’s mom, Julianne persuaded a store clerk in one of the small, women’s boutiques in the mall to let her use the shop’s phone. In turn, Julianne placed a call to Bethany using the ploy that the woman had won a thousand-dollar shopping spree but she had to act within the next few hours to collect it.

Ryder stayed behind in his truck watching the apartment and waited for the shark to take the bait. It took half an hour for her to rush out the door with a man in tow and jump into a late model Pontiac, which Ryder followed.

Crystal / Bethany / Amelia, whatever the hell she was using today had dyed her hair a streaky blonde. That’s the first thing Ryder noticed when he watched her go in through the mall entrance, hand in hand with the poor sap she’d targeted as her next mark. The second thing he noted was that she didn’t look half as good as he remembered. Even from some distance away the scam artist looked rail-thin like she’d been using. He didn’t know what exactly but by the spots on her face, he’d guess her drug of choice had been meth.

Walking at breakneck speed to get to the giveaway before the deadline, she took off in one direction. He had to move his ass to catch up with her. As she tried to get her bearings and determine which way to go to claim the prize, he inadvertently skidded past her. Standing face to face with the woman for the first time in two years had his temper uncoiling.

The man beside her sported the obligatory military-style look—cropped haircut, tattoos signifying unit, toned muscles—if he could do nothing else today, maybe Ryder could prevent another poor schmuck from following in his same footsteps.

Gazing over at the woman he’d known as Bethany, he heard his voice reach shrill status. “Why did you call my mother?”

Bethany tilted her head, her mouth gaped open, as realization hit her. “Ryder! What on earth! I don’t understand.”

“I want to know why you called my mother. Were you thinking she’d pay to get the cartoons back?”

She took a step in retreat. He could see her eyes darting around to check for exits. But it only took a matter of seconds before the lies spilled out.

“Despite what’s happened between us I still care about you.”

“Bullshit. What happened between us is the bitch I left living in my house while I shipped off to Afghanistan, stole everything I ever owned, lied to me about who and what she was and disappeared without leaving a forwarding address. Oh wait. That bitch was you.”

“Who the hell are you?” Military Guy demanded.

Ryder held up a hand. “Stay out of this. This is between Bethany and me.”

“Her name is Amelia. You obviously have the wrong person.”

“And you obviously do not know when to back off. Where are my grandfather’s sketches? Not two days ago you tried to fence them to a collector who called the private investigator I hired. This individual suspected the drawings didn’t belong to you and alerted the PI. Those cartoons belong to me and I want them back.”

“What’s this about?” Military Guy wanted to know.

Ryder turned to the GI, narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re in the service. Which branch?”

“Army. In the middle of training right now at Camp Parks.”

“So let me see if I can play psychic today. You and your girlfriend here are out seeing the sights. The two of you are taking one last trip to see everything San Francisco has to offer before you’re deployed overseas…somewhere. My guess is for a minimum of twelve months. With me, we went to Atlantic City. This woman you’re with… She’s calling herself Amelia Eggerton today, has a bad habit of stealing other people’s identities and a whole lot more. When I knew her two years ago, she called herself Bethany Davis. That’s the name she used when she sold my townhouse while I was pulling a tour serving my country. She cleaned out my bank accounts to the tune of thirty grand. Did she mention during the time you two have known each other that she was born Crystal Dawn Lazzario?” Ryder waited a beat, got a blank stare from Military Guy. “No? I thought not. Did she tell you she’s been married eight times? That number means you need two hands to count how many times this woman’s tricked a military service man into matrimony. I wouldn’t think that came up in the conversation either, huh?”

When Ryder saw Bethany start to edge away, he grabbed her by the arm.

“Now wait a minute,” Military Guy said. “Get your hands off her. You can’t do that.”

“Really? After everything I just told you, you’re defending this sorry piece of shit? Okay. Tell me this. How long have you known this truly, wonderful, amazing woman?”

“About six weeks.”

“Six weeks and you completely trust her because she’s proved during that time she’s so devoted to you and loves you unconditionally. Am I right?”

“I don’t have any family. Amelia’s it.”

“That might be touching if her name was actually Amelia. It isn’t. Aren’t you listening to me at all? ‘Amelia’ is about to end up in the slammer, serve jail time for fraud. Army CID is very interested in her past schemes. Now back off, because I plan on talking to this woman even if I have to go through you to do it. Are we clear?”

Military Guy lifted his hands up, finally took a step back. “As long as you don’t want to punch her out or something and just talk…”

“Oh, I’d like to, but hitting a woman, even Bethany really isn’t my style.” Ryder guided her out of the high-traffic area. “Let’s take a walk. Before I turn you over to the cops, I want to know what you did with my stuff.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. After you left, your place was broken into, they ransacked the house, took everything. That wasn’t my fault. I ran because I was sure you’d blame me.”

“Stop it.” Ryder shook her by the shoulders and then had to take several deep breaths to calm down. “If that’s the way you want to play it, so be it. We’ll let the cops sort this all out, right here, right now, today.” Ryder started to punch in numbers on his cell phone.

“Wait. Okay. Okay. I listed the stuff on Craigslist for free and just told people to come get it. That way, I didn’t have to pay for movers. Whatever was left over, I called a junk dealer in Haddon Heights. He took it all.”

“Jersey?” He hadn’t thought to drive across the Delaware River to check there. “Where are the sketches?”

“I was curious about what was in the leather tube so I snooped around, discovered the drawings inside, found them very…interesting.”

“Translation. You found them valuable,” Ryder corrected.

“I held onto them until I could find someone who appreciated their…uniqueness.”

“Right this minute, where are they?” Ryder tightened the grip on her arm, glanced back at Military Guy. “Are they at his apartment? I swear to God if you don’t tell me where they are, CID will crawl up your ass because I’ll prosecute you for theft and whatever charges I can bring, I’ll do it to the fullest extent… Choose jail time in Pennsylvania, West Virginia, or California. Your choice.”

“Okay. Okay. They’re back at his place.”

“If you’re lying to me…” Ryder saw Bethany send a seductive gaze to her mark. But he could see by the look on Military Guy’s face his trust in the woman had begun to falter.

“Then let’s go. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I have those cartoons back in my possession.”

About that time, Julianne emerged from her post by the entrance to the boutique where she’d witnessed the entire scene unfold.

An anxious moment occurred when Bethany tried to convince an overzealous security guard to slap handcuffs on Ryder for harassing a helpless female shopper. But Ryder had wisely appealed to the man’s common sense.

“Don’t you understand? I want you to call the cops. Go ahead. I want this woman arrested.”

The hapless guard eventually got fed up with the entire scene. “Both of you take your bullshit outside and get out of my mall.”

All four did just that. While Military Guy got into his own vehicle, Ryder flipped Julianne the keys. “We’re headed back to the apartment. You drive.”

Ryder pushed Bethany into the truck still gripping her arm. “If anything happens to me while I’m inside, call the cops.”

From that point forward, Julianne’s heart hadn’t taken a regular beat.

It seemed surreal when Ryder finally came out of the condo with the leather pouch. It was just as bizarre when he called the police and filed a complaint against Bethany for possession of stolen property—not for the sketches. While Ryder had been in the house, he’d spotted a diamond ring he recognized as belonging to his grandmother who’d passed it down to his mom. All this time and his mother had never uttered a word about the fact it had gone missing.

“I feel bad about not grabbing it too but I think I’m pushing it as it is.”

They sat there in the car and watched as two uniforms pulled up to the curb to arrest Bethany and haul her ass to jail.

But the woman had so many aliases it took several hours for the authorities to sort out Ryder’s story. During it all, Julianne had plopped into a chair in a dull, gray waiting area while he went over the details several times to a detective, who in turn, checked out his tale of woe with army CID
and
Philadelphia PD.

When he did finally appear, he looked exhausted. “What a mess,” he said running both hands through his hair.

“Is it over? I was so afraid her friend was about to deck you back there.”

“I was a little afraid of that myself,” Ryder admitted.

“Do you feel any better at all?”

BOOK: Last Chance Harbor
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