Kiss and Tell (16 page)

“Oh, that's so sad. When Manny finds out, he will be devastated. I do understand, believe me, I do. I give you my word that I won't say or do anything you don't want me to. There is one thing. I don't know if it means anything or not, but I'll let you be the judge. Back when Manny first started making serious money, after we moved into the big new house and got the new cars, Manny left his checkbook on the vanity in the bathroom. I looked in it. I don't know why, I just did. The entries started in January and ended in June, so I guess it was June when I saw what I saw, which was an entry marked
RENT
. I don't know what he was renting. But the amount was five thousand five hundred dollars and he wrote checks from January through June. There was no name as to who the check was made out to. The register just said
RENT
. I know for a fact it was not the rent for the New York office or the office he keeps in the District. The rent on those were paid by the company. It was an LLC. At the time, I didn't know what that was, but I know now. The entries for whatever he was renting were in the checkbook for Manny's personal checking account. If you need a year, I'd be guessing, but I think around 1995 or close to that. I don't know if banks keep records that long or not. I once heard him talking on the phone about feeder funds, hedge funds. It was Greek to me. But he had something going on in England, too, and I thought that was strange. He made two trips over there around the same time. Meaning right after the big house and the new cars.”

“That's very interesting. We'll see what, if anything, we can come up with. I want you to think. Where do you think your husband would store his ledgers? Without those, we can't do anything. We're told he does everything the old-fashioned way, that everything is done by hand. Obviously, he doesn't believe in electronics. He's careful about leaving a trail.”

“Yes, Manny is like that. The only thing I can tell you is that he would not want to be far from wherever they're stored. To me, that means his home. I don't even know where he lives these days. Maybe in that place they call his crown jewel. Years ago, I think, he lived in New York with one of his wives. But I think it was last year, maybe the year before, I saw his picture on the cover of a business magazine. There was a big article about that complex he built. I think the article said he lived in one of the houses there. My memory isn't what it used to be, but I think that's right. More coffee?”

“No, I'm good,” Annie said. Myra nodded agreement.

“When we leave here, are you going to get in touch with your husband or son to tell them we're on the case? If you do that, a lot of people are going to get hurt. People like your friend Pete and his wife. Will you promise us not to alert them? And remember what we said about your being found culpable.”

“You have my word. Manny is very wily, so you are not going to have an easy time of it. He's always one step ahead of everyone else. He never turns it off. Never.”

“We're not exactly slouches ourselves. I think Mr. Macklin may have met his match in us. We never give up.”

“What will happen to him?”

Annie laughed. “You don't want to know.”

Myra smiled. “Clarify that question, Mary. What will happen to him if he's arrested or if we get to him first?”

Mary shook her head. “Forget I asked. From what I remember reading about the Vigilantes, I don't think I want to know. All I want is to be able to keep living here, to get through my days and be able to sleep at night. Truly, that is all I want.”

Mary Macklin Carmichael shivered. The fluffy cat hissed and jumped off her lap.

“My children?”

Myra bit down on her lower lip. “In your opinion, are they as involved as their father?”

“I'm afraid so.”

“Then you don't want to know. We really should be going now. Your coffee cake was delicious, and so was the coffee. We'll be in touch, if that's all right,” Myra said.

“I'm sorry I wasn't more help.”

“Actually, you were a big help. Like I said, we'll be in touch.”

In the car, Annie turned to Myra. “Do we believe her?”

“I think so. The only thing she might have regrets about are her kids and rightly so. She's a mother. But she's an honest woman.”

“Only to a point,” Annie said. “She never turned him in. In my eyes, that makes her just as guilty as her husband. The fact that she took herself out of the equation means squat. Look at what he's become. She had to know. I don't quite believe she lives in the bubble she would like us to believe she lives in.”

“Point taken,” Myra said. “We were there for almost two hours, and Dennis still hasn't sent us a text or called. Maybe by the time we get back into town. I would hate to go all the way back to the farm and not meet up with him.”

“See those snow flurries?” Annie said. “Are you sure you don't want to head straight out to the farm? We can always call Dennis to check in from the farm. I don't know about you, Myra, but right now I'm happier than a witch in a broom factory.”

Myra grinned from ear to ear. “I kind of feel like the fox in the henhouse myself right about now. Let's see what the weather looks like when we get to town. And then we can decide what we should do.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Annie said, and stomped on the gas pedal.

D
ennis West leaned back in the comfortable captain's chair he was sitting on. He hoped he was conveying a blasé attitude. He wished now he'd taken some acting classes when he was in college. He'd known the moment he sat down at the table that he was going to be played by a master. He did his best not to laugh. If only the guys could see him now. All the advice Myra, Annie, Maggie, Ted, and Espinosa had given him last night swirled around inside his head. He was confident he was pulling it off. He glanced down at his watch. Ninety minutes for a simple breakfast was not the norm. However, with the bad weather, the little diner that he loved was almost empty of customers, so it was okay to dawdle.

The first hour had been spent getting acquainted and speaking of mundane things: the weather, this hole-in-the-wall eatery, which served the best breakfasts in the District. It wasn't until the second coffee refill that Macklin had finally turned the conversation around to why they were here. Dennis leaned forward so he wouldn't miss a word. He hoped he was successfully conveying the image of a young, dumb guy with no financial savvy. He knew in his gut that the man sitting across from him was trying just as hard to convey to him that he didn't need his business and was just sitting here to kill time on a Monday morning.

The fancy phone sitting on the table like an obscene eye chirped constantly. He pretended not to see Macklin glance at it each time it chirped. That alone told him how important this meeting was even though the man sitting across from him mostly looked bored.

“How do you stand that?” Dennis said, pointing to the chirping phone.

“It's a way of life. When I sign on a client I tell them they can reach me 24/7. How could I do less? My clients trust me with their futures, so I have to be available. Sometimes it's just offering encouragement when the markets go south. I would do the same for you if you were a client. I just wish more counselors operated the way I do. I pride myself on returning all calls within an hour. I can turn it off if it annoys you.”

“No, that's okay. I just hope I never get so important that I live 24/7 tied to a phone.” Dennis let his gaze go to his watch again. “I understand that you aren't taking on any new clients, Mr. Macklin. You made that clear on the phone on Saturday, so what I
don't
understand is why we are wasting each other's time. And like I told you, I can't make a decision anyway until my two aunts give me the okay.”

Macklin's voice was like warm syrup. “Are they financially wise? Do they understand the market?”

Dennis laughed. Actually he giggled. “Well, they are good cooks and go to the
market
every day, but that's not what you meant, is it? No, they are not financially wise, but they do know how to stretch money and live on budgets. I would never make a decision without talking to them first because I value their wise counsel. They have lived long lives and had many life experiences. Life experiences mean more than anything you or anyone else can come up with. I depend on them, and they depend on me. My parents are retired and travel the country and are not available all the time. I could have arranged a meeting with them, but you said you weren't taking on new clients, so I didn't say anything to them about this meeting. I realize this is just a courtesy meeting, and I do thank you for that. So, who is this other financial wizard you mentioned on the phone that you're willing to recommend?”

Macklin sipped at his coffee and dabbed his lips with a napkin. “Ah, yes: Ruben. I called him before I left the house this morning, but he informed me he isn't taking on any new clients either. One of his partners retired, and they haven't hired anyone new to replace him. That means he and his other two partners are swamped. I know that's hard to believe in this miserable economy, but it's a fact. I suppose I could make an exception and work with you till Ruben gets up and running at full speed. I hate to see a young investor go blindly into the financial world with no backup. It's a feeding frenzy out there.”

“I don't like changing horses in midstream, Mr. Macklin. My daddy always said that, and if that way of thinking was good enough for my daddy, then it's good enough for me. I'm not in any hurry. I just found out about this massive inheritance on Saturday.”

The warm, syrupy voice got warmer. “Again, who was it that passed on and left you the inheritance you spoke of? Did I understand you to say it was your grandmother? Did I get that right?”

“It was my grandmother and one of my aunts. They were together when they were killed in a car accident. The memorial service was this past Saturday, as was the reading of the will. I inherited a company called WELMED and, of course, all Granny and Auntie's personal holdings.”

Macklin thought his head was going to explode right off his neck. This country bumpkin was the answer to all his prayers, and he had just fallen into his lap during one of his darkest hours. He leaned forward, and in a soft, comforting voice that was his stock-in-trade, said, “Money is not the answer to anything when a loved one passes on, and in your case, two of your loved ones. Please, accept my condolences. If there's anything I can do, just ask. I'll help you any way I can. You didn't say, Dennis, but I assume you have no grandfather. If you need a stand-in, please consider me.”

Dennis forced a sickly smile. If he didn't know what he knew about the man sitting across from him, he would have signed on the dotted line. The guy was good.

He removed his glasses and wiped at his eyes with his napkin. Two could play this game, he thought smugly. “That's very nice of you to say, Mr. Macklin. Thank you.”

The syrupy voice was now so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Dennis felt his insides cringe. “We all need someone at one time or another. I see you looking at your watch. Do you have somewhere you need to be?”

“I'm meeting up with my aunts. We have some decisions to make about . . . about a lot of things. And I do have a job. My colleagues are waiting for me also. This darn weather has managed to foul everything up.”

“Well, not quite everything. You and I got to meet each other. Having said that, young man, how do you want to leave it?”

With my foot up your ass,
Dennis thought to himself. “I'll call you. Should I call the number I called on Saturday or do you have a cell phone?” He pointed to the cell phone on the table, which was still chirping.

Macklin pulled a business card out of his side pocket and slid it across the table. Dennis reciprocated.

Worms of fear crawled around Macklin's stomach. This bumpkin was getting away from him. He could sense it. He had to do something fast, or he was dead in the water. “I have an idea, young man. Why don't you arrange a meeting with your aunts, so I can explain things to them in simple, everyday terms? I would be more than happy to help you. This way, your aunts can be up to speed and in a better position to guide you. In the end, you might decide to just let your inheritance stay as is. I'm sure that would not be a bad thing, but I do think I could get you a better return on your investments than what you have now. But at this moment, that's not the important thing. What's important is that you have peace of mind, knowing your future will be well taken care of by people who care about you as a person. You won't be just a number on a bank statement but a real flesh-and-blood person.”

Dennis pretended to think. “Well . . . I don't know. My aunts are simple people. They aren't big on dining out. Going to an office would . . . I think intimidate them. I just don't know. Maybe a social setting . . . your kitchen perhaps?” Dennis threw his hands in the air to show he was perplexed.

“My
kitchen?
” Macklin said in a strangled voice. “Did you say my kitchen?”

“Yeah, kitchen. You have a kitchen, don't you? Everyone has a kitchen. My aunts are kitchen people. That's where they conduct all their business. Like men conduct business on the golf course. They're partial to meat loaf and mashed potatoes. Hey, what can I say? If you could arrange that, they might—I say might—be receptive to meeting with you. Listen, Mr. Macklin, I really have to go. My aunts don't like to be kept waiting. They get ornery when that happens. Thanks for taking the time to meet with me. I'll call you.” Dennis slipped into his Redskins jacket, jammed a wool hat down on his head, and turned to leave. He whipped around and held out his hand. Macklin, still in a state of shock, reached for it as he tried to figure out how the tables had turned so suddenly.

Setup
, his mind shrieked. Maybe not.
Kitchens. Meat loaf. Mashed potatoes
. He hadn't sat in a kitchen in like forever. The last time he'd eaten meat loaf and mashed potatoes was when his first wife Mary made it twice a week to stretch her food budget when the kids were little. Son of a bitch!

Macklin continued to sit at the table. He raised his hand to signal the waitress for more coffee.

Outside, Dennis, a grin on his face, jammed his hands into his pockets, hunkered down into the Redskins jacket, and started walking the three blocks to a Cajun restaurant where he was to meet Annie and Myra. Snow flurries and gusty winds whipped at him head-on. He felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. He stopped, backed up against a brick wall, and looked at the text message. “Oh shit!” he muttered. He read the words twice before he sent a return message.
Change location. Am meeting Myra and Annie at the same place in five minutes.

The return message was sent back instantly.
Too late, we are here. We'll be in the back.
“Oh shit,” Dennis said again. “I wasn't cut out for this cloak-and-dagger stuff,” he muttered as he made his way into the spicy-smelling eatery. It was a small restaurant, but there was a room in the back that was reserved for special celebrations and large parties. That was where Ted and the guys were sitting. For now, though, the outer room was only half full. He spotted Myra and Annie immediately. He did his best not to let his gaze roam toward the back room, where the guys were meeting up to discuss what he thought of as Jack Emery's harebrained idea.

Annie waved. Dennis offered up what he hoped was a cocky grin as he made his way to the booth where the two women were sitting. Thank God they didn't have a view of the back room.

“Well?” Annie said the moment Dennis shed his jacket. He countered with a “Well” of his own. “You go first, Dennis. We ordered for you: a lobster po' boy with all the fixings. And a strawberry milk shake.”

“Great, great!” How he was going to eat the monster sandwich was beyond him. He hadn't even digested the pancakes and sausages he'd just eaten.

“Okay, okay. Mr. Macklin tried to play me. I let him think he was succeeding. He said the guy he was planning on turning me over to wasn't taking on any new clients because one of his senior partners had retired, and they're swamped, even in this economy. But out of the goodness of his heart, such a generous man is Mr. Macklin, he was willing to take me on at least temporarily; and then maybe he could turn me over to this guy named Ruben when he was back up and running. I didn't buy it for a minute. I played dumb and said I couldn't make a decision until my two aunts gave their approval. Believe me when I tell you the man was salivating when I told him I had inherited a controlling interest in WELMED. He had his cell phone on the table, and it chirped constantly. I mean constantly. He said he is available to his clients 24/7. To his credit, he looked at who was texting or calling, but he didn't answer.

“The man is easy to like. He makes you think you're special and that he really cares about you. By the way, do you like meat loaf and mashed potatoes?”

Annie grimaced. “I can take it or leave it alone.”

“Charles has a wonderful recipe for meat loaf. He uses ground chuck, veal, and pork with a lot of chopped onions, celery, and tiny crisp bacon bits. Then he puts two strips of bacon on top of the meat loaf so the juice from the bacon drips into the loaf. The gravy is out of this world. It really is a delicious dinner. Why are you asking, Dennis?”

Dennis explained about the kitchen meeting and his story of the meat loaf. If nothing else, it got a laugh out of both Myra and Annie.

“How long do you think it will take him to extend an invitation to his home for dinner, dear?” Myra asked.

“I'm thinking by Thursday. Today is Monday. Between now and then, he has to figure out how to make a meat loaf.” Dennis laughed at his own wit, then sobered when neither woman joined in his laughter. “Will you go to dinner when he issues the invitation?”

“Of course. It's the only way to get to him. You're the conduit,” Myra said. “You did good, young man. I'm proud of you.” Annie nodded.

“What happened when you met with the first Mrs. Macklin?” Dennis looked down at the huge sandwich sitting in front of him, which was loaded with delicious chunks of delectable lobster. He loved lobster. Lobster was his favorite food in the whole world, but right now he knew he couldn't take a bite of it. He guzzled the milk shake instead and would take the loaded sandwich to go.

“She's a sweet, simple lady. A good person. She lives a quiet life. If she has any regrets, it was hard to see what they are. She told us Manny Macklin worships money. She thinks he's a psychopath. She said back when she was married to him, he kept two sets of books, and she said he would never commit anything to a computer or leave a paper trail. He does everything by hand and keeps all the details in his head. She feels like he corrupted her two kids. Last week was the first time she's spoken to her son since the day she left, what she referred to as a lifetime ago. Seems that her neighbor's account with Macklin Investments was wiped out. She took it personal and intervened, and the account was paid off in spades and cashed out. She stepped out of her comfort zone to do that for her neighbor. She said she threatened her son personally. The man's wife has MS, and they need the money. She threatened to go to the SEC if the firm didn't make good. She would go to the wall for a friend and neighbor, but she didn't do a thing to stop what her husband, and then her children, were doing. That bothers me. I suppose she might still have feelings for her ex-husband or some misguided sense of loyalty. Whatever it is or was, she hasn't done anything to bring down her husband's nefarious enterprise.