Lust, Money & Murder (14 page)

“Oh.” Nick nodded. Elaine thought she saw a flicker of suspicion cross his face, but she wasn’t sure. “Well, I’ll see you when—Wednesday?”

“Yes, Wednesday.”

“What about dinner Wednesday night...?”

“I’d love that.”

He gave her hand a warm squeeze. “See you Wednesday, then.”

CHAPTER 1.17

The meeting took place at the Ritz-Carlton, in downtown Berlin. Elaine found Gene Lassiter sitting at a booth in the bar, two beers in front of him.

He gave her a warm welcome and said, “I hope you like beer. Nobody does beer like the Germans.”

Elaine wasn’t interested in beer—she was interested in finding out exactly what Nick was being investigated for—but she took a sip, tensely biding her time.

The aging man just sat there, smiling at her, one hand over the other on top of his gold-tipped cane. It was cast in the shape of a horse’s head.

“You’ve got quite a reputation,” he said.

Elaine grew even tenser. “What do you mean?”

“Identifying the fake currency. Word gets around.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved. She was afraid that he somehow knew she had slept with Nick. She told herself to stop being so paranoid.

“It’s a gift,” Lassiter went on, “being able to spot fakes with the naked eye, without using a lot of fancy equipment. I knew you were talented back when I had you in that class at Laurel.”

“Well, I ought to be halfway good at it by now,” Elaine said modestly. “That’s about all I’ve been doing during the past twelve months.” She wished he would tell her about the trouble he thought Nick was in.

“You know, just three weeks ago, I was about to call you and offer you a job at Treasury. To join a special new project I’m working on.” There was a twinkle in his eye. “When I started checking you out, that’s when I discovered that the SAIC at your office is under internal investigation.”

“Nick LaGrange?” Elaine said, just to make absolutely sure they were talking about the same person.

“Yes. LaGrange.”

“What’s he being investigated for?”

“Are you aware of a case that concerns counterfeits from a genuine KBA Giori machine?”

“Yes. Nick has mentioned it from time to time.”

“What did he tell you, exactly?”

This information wasn’t classified, so there was no harm in sharing it. “He said there’s a possibility that the Russians, or someone in Eastern Europe, have a KBA Giori intaglio press. He’s working the case himself.”

“That’s pretty much right,” Lassiter said. The old man slowly twirled his cane between his fingers. “So, you haven’t had any involvement in that case...”

“No.”

“That’s damn lucky for you,” Lassiter said.

“Why? What exactly do you think Nick has done?”

“From what I can gather, he’s burning the candle at both ends.”

“You mean, taking bribes?”

“Exactly. To throw the rest of the Secret Service and Interpol off track.”

“I don’t believe it,” Elaine said.

“You better believe it. LaGrange is going to do hard prison time for this, Elaine. What he’s doing amounts to treason. He’ll get twenty years in a maximum security penitentiary. If you’ve had any material involvement in his activities, you may get dragged down with him.”

Elaine swallowed. Technically, she had falsified her DOPS to cover Nick’s tracks.

Lassiter was studying her face. “How close are you and LaGrange, anyway?”

“Not very,” Elaine said, a little too quickly. “I mean, we’re good friends. But that’s all.” Damn it! Of course they could only be good friends, in Lassiter’s eyes—Nick was her boss!

Lassiter sipped his beer, regarding her as if he was a little unsure of her answers. “The bottom line is, we need you at Treasury on a very interesting and exciting project, one that has to do with stopping these criminals who have the Giori press. It’s a project where you can really put this talent for identifying fakes to spectacular use.” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Are you interested?”

Elaine thought it over. Why did this have to happen to her and Nick? Only three days after she’d slept with him?

“We’ll give you a twenty percent raise,” Lassiter added.

“I won’t do anything against Nick,” Elaine said.

“I’m not asking you to. But you need to get out of Bulgaria and wash your hands of this. And we really need you on this new project. You pull this off, it will be a fantastic achievement for you.”

On the inside, Elaine was experiencing a riot of conflicting emotions, everything from outrage to grief. She was angry that she was being put in such a horrible position. But it wasn’t Lassiter’s fault.

“Do you want to think about it?” Lassiter said.

“If Nick really is guilty, I don’t want to stay in Bulgaria, Mr. Lassiter.”

“Gene,” he said, smiling. “Call me Gene.”

CHAPTER 1.18

Elaine flew back to Bulgaria feeling incredibly distraught. She didn’t know how she would face Nick again. She was overwhelmed with guilt. She was betraying him. But now she was fairly sure he was guilty, and she wasn’t about to go to jail for him.

But she had to be absolutely sure.

When she arrived in Sofia, she spent the entire evening packing up everything in her apartment. Then, at 5 a.m., she went into work, long before anyone else would be there except the guard at the front entrance.

After she made absolutely sure the space was empty, she donned a pair of latex gloves and went into Nick’s office. He never locked his door, nor did he ever lock his messy desk or cabinets. Yet, the very bottom drawer of his large file cabinet was locked.

She pulled out her locksmith tools and, after fumbling around for almost five minutes, finally got it open. Buried in the very back of the drawer, hidden under a sweater that stunk of tobacco, was a cardboard box.

Please don’t let there be any money in this
, she thought, as she opened the flaps.

Her heart sank.

There it was, staring her in the face. The $10,000 worth of Belarusian rubles Nick had taken from Bulgaria. She recognized the yellow rubber bands that were still around each bundle. He had never converted it to American dollars, never recycled it into the account used for undercover operations.

“Bastard,” she whispered, staring down at the damning evidence. Now she felt betrayed. She had falsified her DOPS, and his, too.

She shut the drawer, relocked it, and went back to her office.

Nick came in about the usual time. She was busy packing up the personal items from her office.

He stepped inside her door and said, with a grin, “Let’s go synchronize our DOPS.” The grin faded as he looked around at the empty bookshelves and the cardboard boxes. “What—what’s going on?”

“I have to go to Washington,” she muttered.

He looked back at the boxes. “What do you mean, you ‘have’ to go to Washington?”

“I—I’m being transferred.” She avoided his eyes.

“Transferred...what the hell are you talking about?”

“Word spread about me being able to check counterfeits fast, and they want me for a new project they’re working on at Treasury.”

He looked dumbfounded, then suspicious. She avoided his gaze.

“What the hell happened in Germany?” he said. “Who were you meeting with there?”

“I can’t tell you, that,” she said, pulling some file folders from her drawer. Before she and Lassiter had parted, he told her that absolutely, under no circumstances, was she to reveal anything to Nick. The cover story was that her skills in counterfeit recognition were needed for a new project in Washington, that her supervisor there was a secret, and that it would be in violation of her security clearance to reveal anything else. Her paperwork that transferred her from the Secret Service to the Treasury Department would be sent overnight. Prepaid tickets to D.C. would be waiting for her at the Sofia Airport.

Nick stepped behind her desk and grabbed her wrist. “What the hell is happening, Elaine?”

“Let go of me!” she said, yanking her arm free.

One of the other agents was passing the door. He stopped and looked into the office. When he saw Nick’s contorted face, he quickly continued on.

Nick just stood there, breathing hard. “In case you’ve forgotten, I’m the SAIC of this office. I’m asking you an official question. Who were you meeting with in—”

“I don’t work here anymore,” Elaine said, her throat dry. “I work for Treasury now.”

Nick looked like she’d slapped him across the face. “What’s the matter with you? Didn’t the other night mean
anything
to you?”

“I—I just have to leave, Nick.” She was fighting tears. “I have no choice. Please don’t ask me anything else.”

“You
have
to leave? This isn’t the damn U. S. army, Elaine. You don’t
have
to do anything.” He paused, his expression pained. “Is it another man?”

She couldn’t do this to him, security clearance or no security clearance.

“Nick...you are about to be arrested.”

Book 2

Money

CHAPTER 2.1

“Arrested?” Nick LaGrange said, baffled. “You must be kidding. What on earth would I be arrested for?”

Elaine was breathing hard. She had to force herself to hold her voice to a whisper. “For that money you’ve got hidden in the bottom drawer of your file cabinet! For starters.”

Nick stared at her with disbelief. “You’ve been
snooping
around my office?”

“You left me no choice,” she muttered and began packing again. “I can’t believe you would make me lie on our reports to cover yourself.”

“And I can’t believe you would take someone else’s word over mine! Who told you that I was about to be arrested?”

Elaine didn’t answer.

“That money...I just haven’t gotten around to changing it yet, that’s all. I...”

Elaine would not look at him

“Fine,” he said. “Run away to fucking Washington! I don’t give a damn.”

He turned, and looked back and said, “You know the real reason you’re running away? You’re afraid to get close to people.”

Nick stomped out of the office.

* * *

Elaine hoped that the trip to Washington would make her feel better. “Out of sight, out of mind.” But it didn’t. She felt terrible about what had happened between her and Nick.

You know the real reason you’re running away? You’re afraid to get close to people.

That was nonsense. The reason she was “running away” was that he was a criminal, just as bad as the men they were supposedly trying to put in jail. Why did she have to get involved with a dishonest man? Nick was just like her father...a good heart, but a corrupt soul.

She ordered three cocktails on the plane and drank herself into a sick, troubled sleep.

* * *

Gene Lassiter personally met Elaine at Dulles Airport. They rode to the Treasury Department in an armored SUV, driven by a Secret Service agent. She had no idea what the new project was that Lassiter wanted her to work on. She hoped that it was as exciting as he said it was—anything to take her mind off Nick.

Elaine was awed as she and Lassiter got out of the SUV and walked up the steps between the Treasury Building’s impressive granite pillars. It was hard to believe that she would be working in this historic structure, right across the street from the White House.

During the drive over, Gene Lassiter had told her that he was in charge of all the “covert features” built into American paper money that help keep it from being counterfeited.

After she was given a security badge, he led her up to the third floor, to his office. He occupied one of the coveted “semi-preserved” suites.

The office boasted a spectacular view of the White House. The windows were fitted with walnut cornices ornamented in gold leaf. A gilded chandelier hung from the ceiling, which was painted with allegorical murals of “Treasury” and “Justice.” Lassiter told her that the space appeared more or less the same as it did in the 1860s. The only thing that did not look like an antique was a wall map of the world that had different colored pins pushed into it, mostly in Europe.

“Your office is very impressive,” Elaine said politely, as if it even mattered.

He smiled and motioned to her with his cane. “Spend about forty years working here for the crappy government salary they pay you, putting up with all the bureaucratic bullshit they throw at you, slaving away, and they might give you one, too, about a year before you retire.”

Elaine would have smiled, but there was real bitterness in his voice. Still, at least he was an honest man. Unlike some people she knew.