Buying Time (22 page)

A few days after Jon’s funeral, Salina gave the team a detailed report which contained a list of fifty-three clients whose insurance policies Waverly Sloan had brokered. It surprised Angela that half of his clients were already dead and more than a third of those died only weeks after selling their policies. Ten of them suffered accidental deaths: six from car accidents, two in fires at their homes, one in a boating accident and one after being shot during a robbery.

Angela was glad that her other cases and the work on the task force kept her too busy to dwell on the state of her personal life. Her mother still wasn’t speaking to her after learning that she’d called off the wedding. Her sister Jada, on the other hand, wanted to throw her a party. The first few days after she moved out, Cornell had called her almost every day insisting that they meet for dinner to talk. She finally stopped answering his calls and, to her relief, they abruptly stopped. At the moment, her relationship with Dre was the only thing in her life that felt right

Zack barged into her office without knocking. “Take a look at this.” He slapped a piece of paper on her desk.

Angela picked it up. “What’s this?”

“The second complaint filed with the Department of Insurance against Live Now. This woman claims her stepfather pressured her dying mother to sell her insurance policy, then killed her. And guess who brokered the deal?”

Angela grew excited. “Waverly Sloan?”

Zack nodded with glee.

Angela skimmed the complaint. “Is she alleging that Waverly Sloan was in cahoots with the stepfather?”

“Nope. Sloan’s name is nowhere in there. According to the daughter, she was the sole beneficiary on the policy. Her stepfather got half the money she was supposed to get. If her mother hadn’t sold the policy, he wouldn’t have gotten a dime.”

“How much?”

“Two-fifty. The face value of the policy was half a million.”

“No wonder the daughter’s so pissed.”

Zack had an exuberant look on his face. “That’s not the most interesting part. Guess who the stepfather is?”

“Zack, how would I know that?”

“True. You’d never guess in a million years. Okay, it’s Lawrence Erickson.”

Angela’s forehead crinkled. “Who’s he?”

“The chairman of Jankowski, Parkins, Gregorio & Hall.”

Angela whistled. “The stepdaughter is accusing
him
of murder?”

“You got it.”

“Is there anything to it?”

“I’m not sure. My L.A.P.D. contact says the daughter’s a little whacko.”

“How’d the wife die?”

“She had pancreatic cancer. The daughter’s been demanding an autopsy. But, so far, there’s no indication there’s going to be one since she was under a doctor’s care and presumably died from cancer.” Zack’s eyes gleamed. “Do you know what going after a rich, powerful guy like Erickson could mean for our careers?”

“Why don’t we just focus on nailing Jon’s killer rather than a headline, okay?”

“We can do both,” Zack said. “By the way, I came up with the perfect name for my TV show.
The Zack Attack.
You like it?”

“Never mind that. Tell me more about Erickson’s stepdaughter.”

“Don’t know much yet. Except that she apparently despises the guy.”

“If that’s the case,” Angela said, “then I might question her motives more than his. What’s Erickson’s side of the story?”

“According to the daughter, Erickson claimed they sold the policy to pay for an experimental cancer treatment, but the wife decided not to do it. Neither the wife’s sister nor the daughter knew anything about it.”

Angela read the complaint more thoroughly this time, then picked up the telephone.

“Who are you calling?” Zack asked.

“I think we should interview the daughter,” Angela said. “Since Waverly Sloan brokered her mother’s policy as well as Jon’s, she might have some information that could help us.”

Three hours later, Angela and Zack were sitting at a sandwich shop a few blocks from their office waiting for Lawrence Erickson’s stepdaughter to arrive.

A petite blonde with a jittery disposition entered the café and glanced around. Angela headed toward her. “Ashley?”

The woman acknowledged the greeting by walking over, but didn’t speak. She was dressed like a college student: faded blue jeans, white ducktail shirt, large red shoulder bag. She looked much younger than twenty-four.

“I’m Angela Evans and this is Zack Hargrove.” Angela led the way to their table. Ashley sat down across from them.

“Thanks for meeting us,” Angela began. “We—”

“Is somebody going to charge that asshole with murder?” Ashley demanded.

Angela gave Zack a quizzical look. “Any investigation into your mother’s death would be handled by the D.A.’s Office. We’re with the U.S. Attorney’s Office. We’re looking into an insurance fraud scheme.”

Ashley glared across the table. “Insurance fraud? But you said you wanted to talk to me about my mother’s death.”

“And we do,” Angela said hurriedly. “We have some questions about your mother’s decision to sell her insurance policy.”

“She didn’t make any decision. The asshole pressured her to do it so he could keep me from getting the insurance money.”

“Are you referring to Lawrence Erickson?” Zack asked.

“Yes. The asshole. That’s what I call him because that’s what he is.”

Angela wasn’t sure what to think of the hostile young woman. “We understand that your mother sold her policy to undergo an experimental cancer treatment.”

“Really? Then why didn’t she have it? And why didn’t she tell me or my aunt about it? You want to know why? Because the asshole made it up, that’s why. Selling the policy was the only way for him to get his hands on that money.”

It crossed Angela’s mind that Ashley might be falsely accusing Erickson of murder to get back at him for cheating her out of the insurance. “Do you know anything about Waverly Sloan, the broker who sold your mother’s policy?”

“I told you we knew nothing about her selling the policy until after she died. The asshole handled everything.”

“Your mother would’ve had to sign paperwork authorizing the sale.”

“And she probably did. The asshole could convince her to do anything.”

Zack rested an elbow on the small table. “May I ask why you seem to have such animosity for your stepfather?”

“Because he’s an asshole.”

“Can you be a little more specific?”

“I hated the way he controlled my mother. She did whatever he wanted. She sent me away to boarding school because that was what
he
thought was best.” Ashley slumped back in her chair. “I only got to come home for two weeks in the summer and a week at Christmas.”

Angela understood now why the D.A.’s Office had not followed up on her allegations. This girl had issues.

“Do you know if your stepfather knew Waverly Sloan before he sold your mother’s policy?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Maybe they had a deal to kill her and split the money. The asshole knows lots of people. I wouldn’t put something like that past him. You should look into that. My mother hasn’t even been dead a month and he’s already dating a woman half his age.” Ashley paused as if she had suddenly remembered something important. “I need to tell you about something he did right after my mother died.”

Both Zack and Angela leaned forward in anticipation. “He had the audacity to call me and ask me if I wanted the two-fifty. Can you believe that?”

There were two ways to look at that, Angela mused to herself. It was either the action of a guilty man or an innocent one.

“That’s how I know he did it. He’s trying to shut me up. But I told him to keep the money because he’s going to need it to buy stuff at the prison commissary.”

Angela and Zack asked a few more questions, then headed back to the office.

“What do you think?” Angela said to Zack, as they strolled up Spring Street. “Ashley didn’t have a shred of evidence to support her allegations against Erickson.”

Zack shrugged. “That doesn’t mean he didn’t kill his wife.”

“True,” Angela said. “There’s somebody else I think we should talk to.”

Zack turned to face her. “Who?”

“Waverly Sloan.”

Y
ou won’t believe this!” Erickson barreled into Becker’s office.

“Believe what?” Becker looked up from his computer screen.

“I just got a call from the White House. Cervantes is out and I’m in!”

Becker shot out of his chair. “What? I thought Cervantes’  Senate confirmation hearing was supposed to start tomorrow.”

“It seems there was a legal matter she neglected to disclose. She pulled some strings to help her nephew beat a drunk driving charge two years ago. I’m taking a red-eye to Washington tonight. They’re announcing me as the new nominee tomorrow morning.”

Becker rounded his desk and hugged his friend. “This is absolutely terrific!”

“You still coming with me?” Erickson asked.

Becker paused. “Of course,” he said slowly. “But there’s something you need to know. You better have a seat.” He walked over to close the door, then fell into the chair behind his desk.

Erickson was still on his feet. “What’s going on?”

“Live Now and Waverly Sloan are under investigation for fraud.”

Erickson drew a blank.

“Sloan was the broker who sold Claire’s insurance policy and Live Now is the company he works for.”

“Okay,” Erickson said. “And why would that be of any concern to me?”

“There’s a task force out of the U.S. Attorney’s Office here in L.A. Two prosecutors—two pretty sharp prosecutors from what I understand—have been looking into the company, Waverly Sloan in particular. Live Now is linked to another company that’s under investigation in three other states for fraud.”

“You didn’t check the guy out before you referred him?” There was incredulity in Erickson’s voice.

Becker raised his hands in defense. “He was recommended by an excellent probate lawyer I’ve known for years. There was no reason to think he wasn’t legit.”

Erickson finally sat down. “Is there anything else?”

“They think he’s involved in a scam to buy policies and kill off the clients before their time.”

“What!” Erickson exploded. “I’ll never be confirmed if I’m linked to a scandal like that. That buys right into Ashley’s allegations. Is it true?”

“My contact hasn’t confirmed it one way or the other. A case agent working with the two assistant U.S. attorneys was posing undercover as a terminally ill policyholder. Waverly Sloan brokered his policy. He died the same day he picked up his check in a suspicious car accident. The prosecutors think he was murdered.”

“Is Sloan murdering his clients or not?” Erickson pressed.

“I don’t know for sure yet.”

“Well, you damn well better find out! I figured the only problem I’d have would be putting a lid on Ashley. But now this!”

“Just calm down. I’m doing everything in my power to keep this under wraps.” He opened a side drawer and pulled out a folder. He took passport-size pictures from a folder. One showed a young white man, the other an attractive black woman.

“I was planning to share this with you later today. Zack Hargrove and Angela Evans are runningthe task force. It’s called Operation Buying Time.”

“Do they know Sloan brokered Claire’s policy?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

“If they don’t already know, we need to find a way to keep them from making the connection.”

“I’m way ahead of you. The sooner you get confirmed, the sooner we’ll have the authority to shut down their task force,” Becker said.

“That’s certainly a bright idea,” Erickson scoffed. “I don’t want another Alberto Gonzales scandal the day after I take office. If we shut down their task force, they’ll run straight to the media.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll come up with something. Frankly, I think Sloan’s involvement might actually work to our advantage.”

“How could you possibly think that?”

Becker’s phone rang. He pulled it out and smiled. “It’s Kaylee, she—”

“That can wait,” Erickson said sharply.

“No problem.” Becker set the phone on his desk. “Think about it. If Sloan is running the kind of scam they think he is, regardless of what the autopsy shows, we might be able to pin Claire’s death on him.”

Regardless of what the autopsy shows?
“Exactly what is the autopsy going to show? Exactly how did you—”

“We agreed never to talk about it again, remember?” Becker said sternly. “We got lucky. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Becker’s words didn’t make sense.
Got lucky?
What in the hell did that mean?
“So the autopsy’s not going to turn up anything?”

Becker’s face now displayed more confusion than Erickson’s. “Not unless you know something that I don’t.”

The two men bounced blank looks at each other.

Erickson wondered if he was missing something. It was almost as if Becker was using some secret language that Erickson hadn’t quite mastered.

“The White House plans to move quickly with my confirmation,” Erickson said. “It’s imperative that we keep a wrap on all of this.”

“I think we can,” Becker said. “In the meantime, I’m going to personally talk to Ashley.”

“That’s a good idea.” Erickson stood up. “We both have a lot to lose if you can’t convince her to shut her trap.”

A baffled look returned to Becker’s face. “Trust me,” he said, reassuringly. “I’ll take care of everything.”

W
averly was at his desk reviewing a new application when the receptionist called to tell him he had two visitors who refused to give their names.

He thumbed through his desk calendar and saw nothing scheduled. He had no idea what was up, but headed to the reception area to find out.

“I think it’s best if we speak in private,” the woman said, pulling him off to the side, away from the receptionist’s desk. “I’m Angela Evans and this is Zack Hargrove. We’re with the U.S. Attorney’s Office.” She flashed her credentials and extended her hand. “We’d like to talk with you.”