Runner's Moon: Yarrolam (6 page)

            “Clean? I don’t understand.”

            “There are no clothes, no personal items, no pictures, and no computer. The place looks like a showroom. Like a furnished apartment waiting for a tenant, right down to dishes in the cabinets, towels in the bathroom, and food in the fridge. But there was absolutely nothing in his apartment to even suggest anyone was currently living there. It’s my opinion Mr. Shulcrist has known this was coming for some time. He’s left the city, and it’s very likely he’s left the country. And left his fiancée in the lurch, while he was at it.”

Chapter 8

Possibility

           
No.

            Cherron stared, unseeing, at the table. “No,” she repeated, this time aloud, and looked up at the detective sitting across from her. “No. You’re wrong. You have to be wrong. Aaron called me three weeks ago to ask me to come down here to be with him. He was going to take a week off from work so he could show me around the city. He wanted to take me down to the French Quarter, and then we were going to take a couple of those tours through the plantations. He was hoping I’d be smitten enough to want to settle here, rather than ask him to move up to New York, where I’m from.”

            “So at no time were you aware of the fact he’d already cleared out his apartment?” Detective Sonnier queried.

            “No.”

            There was a soft tap on the door, and another man in a white dress shirt stuck his head inside the room. He simply nodded at the detective, then disappeared.

            Sonnier got to his feet. “If you’ll come with me, Miss Greene.”

            He led her into the narrow hallway and past two doors before knocking on the third one. Without waiting for someone to answer, he opened it and escorted her inside.

            Cherron let out a sigh of relief, rushing over to where Liam sat. Taking the seat next to him, she watched as the three men exited the room, leaving the two of them alone.

            “Are you all right?” Liam asked, not caring to lower his voice.

            “What’s going on?” she almost demanded. “They told me Aaron’s skipped town. They said he’d left before you picked me up at the airport!”

            She wanted to burrow her nose against his chest and breathe in his comforting scent. Feel his arms around her like iron-clad bars protecting her from this insanity. Instead, she satisfied herself with clutching his hand. Happily, he turned his palm over to grasp hers.

            “Detective Washoo informed me the office has been ransacked, including my and Aaron’s apartments. We believe the same people are responsible for both, and they were looking for something, but I have no idea what they were looking for.”

            She teethed her upper lip. “Liam, if Aaron knew he was going to flee, why didn’t he notify me and have me cancel my trip? Why make me go through this?”

            “I’ve wondered the same thing,” Liam admitted. “I’d also like to know how long he’s been planning this.”

            The door opened, and all three detectives re-entered the room. Washoo took the seat on the other side of the table as the other two men remained leaning against the wall, next to the door.

            “Right now, we have no reason to hold either of you for further questioning. But it would be in your best interest to remain in town and not try leaving again. Got me?”

            “Where do you suggest we go? Where can we stay?” Liam asked with a frown. “Those men are still out there, looking for Aaron. And they think they can use me and Cherron to draw him out of wherever he’s hiding.”

            “You said Mr. Shulcrist made reservations for Miss Greene at a hotel?”

            “At the Hotel Meridian.”

            Washoo nodded to one of the men, who left. Most likely to see if the reservation had actually been made, Cherron surmised. She turned back to the detective.

            “What if those men come back? Who’s going to protect us?”

            “Good question,” Liam noted. “Will we have someone assigned to guard us until this mess is cleared up?”

            Washoo glanced at his fingernails. “I wish I could. We’re a bit shorthanded at the moment.”

            “So you expect us to put ourselves out there like open targets? Is it even safe for me to go back to my apartment?”

            “I’d strongly advise you don’t. It’s still considered a crime scene until I release it. Same goes for Mr. Shulcrist’s place and your office.”

            “Detective?” The man who’d left was back. “The hotel confirms a reservation was made yesterday in the name of Cherron Greene, but the hotel negated the reservation when the credit card used was declined.”

            “Was it Shulcrist who made the reservation?”

            The man nodded.

            Liam spoke up. “Wait a minute. Are you saying Aaron made the reservation, but it was declined? Then that means, if we’d made it to the hotel, there wouldn’t have been a room waiting for her.”

            “It obviously wasn’t a problem for Mr. Shulcrist,” Washoo remarked dryly.

            “Why would Aaron make the attempt to reserve me a room, if he knew his credit card was no good?” Cherron wondered aloud.

            “I think a better question would be, if the card was no good, why didn’t he use another one? Why did he let the room slide?” Liam countered. He tapped a finger to his lips. “Unless he didn’t know his cards were no good.”

            Washoo shook his head. “I got a better one for you. What’s this guy been up to that’s gotten a target drawn on his back?” He re-opened the folder and flipped several sheets until he found the one he wanted. “We ran a check on Mr. Shulcrist’s phone calls. The last one was placed at five fifty-two PM yesterday in the general area of your office.”

            “That was probably when he called the hotel,” Liam noted. “I left before then to run an errand before heading for the airport.”

            “The number matches the hotel’s. But since then, there’ve been no further calls. In fact, we pinged his phone again early this morning. It’s been turned off. He seems to have made it clear he doesn’t want to be reached.”

            There was another knock on the door. This time a woman in a suit entered, a laptop computer under her arm. She placed it on the table, glancing at Liam.

            “Mr. Vost? I’m Detective Knox. We weren’t able to hack your password, so we went in through a backdoor.” She gave him a perplexed stare. “Is this your only computer?”

            “It’s my personal one. I have my work computer at the office.”

            “Your work computer, and Mr. Shulcrist’s work computer, are missing,” Knox told him. She tapped the lid. “You have less than a handful of files. We accessed your email. Do you always keep in personal contact with your clients on your private computer?”

            Cherron felt a chill go through her. Shocked, she stared at the man sitting beside her. The reaction had come from Liam. How she knew, she couldn’t explain. Neither could she prove it. But it was as though she’d been given direct emotional access to his thoughts. Oddly, it didn’t frighten her, but left her curious and more than a bit intrigued. She could sense him trying to calm himself. Perhaps mentally telling himself to chill.

            It was freaky.

            “As you’ve probably already figured out, I wasn’t born in this country,” Liam began.

            Washoo nodded. “I spoke at length with Deputy DeGrassi. He explained you were one of several immigrants who’d sought political asylum.”

            “That would explain the strange names on the emails,” Knox commented. “Most of them mentioned transferring funds. Were you sending money to your compatriots?”

            “My fellow countrymen are fully employed, if that’s what you’re asking. They’re my friends, as well as my clients. Every month or so, they send me money they’ve legitimately earned. I have Aaron invest it for them. When they’ve earned a dividend, I transfer the funds to a centralized bank where they withdraw their earnings. You’re welcome to check all my transactions. My books were audited this past April. Everything was found to be in order.”

            “I know.” Knox turned to Washoo. “We checked with the regulatory commission. Mr. Vost passed inspection, but Shulcrist remains under investigation for questionable transactions. They’re currently checking into Shulcrist’s bank accounts to see if anything suspicious turns up.”

            Cherron glanced from one detective to the other. “His bank accounts?”

            “Hold it.” Liam leaned over, bracing his arms on his knees. “Are you thinking Aaron’s disappearance and our recent audit are connected?”

            Washoo held out his hands. “Someone comes after you because your partner owes somebody a lot of money. Shulcrist vanishes without warning, and the SEC is breathing down his neck for questionable practices. What do you think?”

            “You want my two cents, Mr. Vost?” Knox asked. “It sounds to me like your partner was involved in some sort of money laundering scheme, and he made the bad decision to fleece the wrong person.”

Chapter 9

Suggestions

            Yarrolam mulled over what Detective Knox said. His thoughts were jumbled, but fortunately his initial fears that the police would want to look further into his financial records, along with those of his fellow Ruinos, were assuaged. For the time being, law enforcement’s focus was on Aaron. But it didn’t excuse the possibility that, once this mess was straightened out, they wouldn’t turn their attention back to his case.

            What had started out as good intentions to help his friends and fellow survivors was starting to look like a bad idea.
I should have listened to Cotrinar and not bring attention to myself or the others. I should have become a manual laborer like many of them did, and made do with what I earned that way.

           
But it was difficult to scrape by with such wages. The cost of housing and food alone could be more than their income. With Yarrolam’s help, they were able to maintain a modest savings account for those times when the funds were desperately needed. Or in cases of emergencies.

           
Could we have been able to subsist without those additional funds?

           
“Mr. Vost?”

            He looked up to see Detective Washoo studying him.

            “I need to know where you and Miss Greene will be staying. I’ll try to find a way to have an officer assigned to watch over you. At least for the next twenty-four hours.”

            They couldn’t go to his apartment. Neither would it be wise to go to the hotel where Aaron had initially tried to make reservations. If the cops were aware of it, so would whoever was looking for his partner.

            “Might I suggest something?” Knox said. “The old adage of safety in numbers is true. If you and Miss Greene isolate yourselves, you’re going to make it easy for the persons who attacked you at the restaurant to have another go at it.”

            “She’s right,” Washoo agreed. “If you keep yourselves surrounded by others, there’s a good chance those people will stay away to keep from being spotted.”

            “What do you suggest?” Yarrolam asked.

            “Get a hotel downtown, in or near the French Quarter. Blend in with the tourists. Make it hard for those men to reach you. Plus, it’ll help my men to keep tabs on you. Wherever you go, don’t go far. We’re not through here, and the FBI will also need to talk with you. You said you’d bought a disposable phone. What’s the number so we can keep in contact?”

            Yarrolam gave it to him.

            “You said Shulcrist’s first payment had to be made by noon today?” Knox quizzed.

            “Yes.”

            Detective Washoo checked his watch. “That deadline’s passed, and it’s a safe bet Shulcrist didn’t pay up.” He rose from his chair, silently ending this round of questioning. “Let’s hope we can find Mr. Shulcrist and get this matter quickly settled.”

            “You and us, both,” Cherron remarked.

            They exited the police station and into the bright summer sun. Cherron crossed her arms under her breasts and sighed loudly. “Okay. Now what?”

            “First, I suggest we grab a bite to eat. Then we go look for a hotel.”

            “And then what?” She tossed a concerned look at him. “Liam, how long are we going to have to watch our backs?” Her worry was a bitter cloud, striking him full in the face. This time it was stronger and more pungent. The longer they remained together, the more he was going to become aware of her feelings, her moods, and her emotions. The knowledge left him both exhilarated and depressed. This woman was meant to his, yet she was already spoken for. But he refused to claim her until she either withdrew herself from Aaron, or declared herself no longer his.

            “Liam?”

            He blinked, unaware he’d been silent too long. “Sorry. I was thinking. I don’t know how long this will last. I can’t even promise you it
will
end. Not until Aaron comes out of hiding, or is found.”

            “Do you think he’s involved in a Ponzi scheme?”

            “It’s very possible. Investment brokers are prime candidates when it comes to any sort of financial windfall. But you have to realize, ninety-nine point nine percent of us are legitimate, and we stay within the laws. It’s that point one percent who made the wrong choices, and end up giving the rest of us a black eye.” He fingered the keys to his car. “We also have to consider that maybe Aaron got involved because of mitigating circumstances. Maybe he had some gambling debts. Who knows?”

            “What do
you
think?” she asked softly.

            Yarrolam shrugged. “I don’t know what to think. And to be honest, I’m not concerned so much for his safety as I am for yours.”

            Her eyes softened at the confession. “Really?”