Hit 'N' Run (Under Suspicion #1) (16 page)

A shuddered breath racked her tense body, and she refused to let the tightening of her throat release the threatened tears as she continued in a hoarse whisper. “I would have thought your investigation would have revealed where the money came from,” she said, forming air quotes over the word
investigation
. Swallowing to contain her emotions further, Lorna stood in the hopes of putting an end to the conversation. “As for Tim Fong. He’s the CEO of Aqua Oil. My client. I am their marketing person. I handle PR and media relations. That’s what I do—what my company does. Investigate that! I don’t know and have never heard of the Fong family. I’m sure everyone has some shady characters in their background. As you unearthed, I obviously did.”

“Lorna…”

The weight of sadness enveloped her like a blanket, Lorna waved her hand at him, palm outstretched in dismissal. “I’m tired, Mitch,” she sighed, forcing her feet to move and hold her weight without shaking as she backed away.

Looking down at the one and only man who ever made her feel special, wanted, desired, Lorna realized all of it—her feelings—the way she thought he felt for her—it was all a big lie.
Just another lie
. He used her to get to her client, and she felt deflated, drained of all emotion. How could someone she had been so open, so intimate with, assume that she was somehow involved in an illegal crime ring?
Because you have a record of being involved in criminal activities.

“Lorna, please. I can’t lose you again…” Mitch stood to reach for her hand.

She turned at her name. The anguish in his voice almost, but was not quite able to penetrate her defensive shell. Arms crossed protectively over her stomach, pressing firmly to her sides, she lowered her head. “You’re not the person I thought you were,” she said, turning. She looked over her shoulder. “You’re not someone I want in my life.”

Chapter Fourteen

“I take it that didn’t go the way you anticipated.” Luke leaned against the hood of the car, parked just down the street from Lorna’s house. “I saw her come back just a bit ago.”

“No,” Mitch replied, moving to the passenger’s door. “There’s nothing to be gained from sitting here anymore. Let’s go back to the office.”

“She’s under surveillance,” Luke protested, peered through the windshield at what Mitch and changed his tactic. The older man rounded the car to scoot in behind the steering wheel. “Back to depot then.”

They rode in thick, unsettled silence until a soft buzz emitting from Mitch’s front pocket brought him out of his reverie. “Holy fuck. Perfect timing as ever,” he said, viewing the readout.

Blocked.

“I am not in the mood for this.” He showed the phone’s readout to Luke before pressing the talk key.

“Morgan.”

“Have you missed me, Michael?” Veronique’s voice slithered across the airways, making him feel like she was seated next to him.

“I was worried about you, Von,” he responded, evenly striving to get his head in the game. “Glad you didn’t turn up with the others.”

When the pause lengthened, Mitch pulled the phone from his ear to ensure they hadn’t driven through a dead zone where the cell coverage was dropped. He glanced at Luke, whose bushy eyebrows rose, accentuating the question in his eyes. Mitch answered with a shrug, but following previous instructions, he didn’t offer anything to encourage the conversation with Veronique. He couldn’t chance leading the suspect and hampering evidence.

Speaking slowly, Veronique’s tone changed from playful to pained. “No, Michael. I’m still here.”

“I’m glad.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.” And he meant it.

“I wouldn’t have thought so, now that you have your blonde chippy on the hook.”

What?
Mitch pressed his back to the seat for support, the fingers of his free hand massaging his temples.
Why does everything about this case come back to Lorna?
Just when he was finally sure she was clean of any involvement, now this.
No. This is a game. I know she’s not involved. Not willingly, anyhow
.

“A little unlike you, though, to hook up with a woman with so much baggage, I would think.” Veronique sounded bitchy. Mitch could almost see the sneer in her voice. “Single mom, supporting an old woman. You always struck me as the kind of guy who likes to get in, get on, and get out.”

Used to be. Not anymore.

“Get to the point,” Mitch ground out, avoiding the hard look Luke shot him.

“Did you know her uncle used to be our go-to guy for counterfeit gift cards? Everyone I asked said the guy didn’t seem to have a spare set of brain cells to run together, yet he always managed to come through with the cards and never get caught. Never knew what his secret was. Makes a person wonder, doesn’t it?”

How does she know so much about Lorna?
He checked over his shoulder to see if they were being tailed. No, Luke was very cognizant of that sort of thing.
But how?

“Vonnie—”

“Don’t use your warning tones with me, Michael,” she cut in harshly. “Uncle Chuck needs me, you see. That’s why I’m still here. He needs me because he knows I found you. He’s coming for you.”

“Then why the coward’s route? I’m sure you’ve told him where I am. Why doesn’t he just come for me?” Mitch felt hot, his temper close to the surface. He gulped much-needed air, holding the phone down towards his mouth to emphasize his words. “You know where I am. C’mon,” he growled.

Luke waved his hand in front of Mitch, shaking his head to get his attention, one hand left on the wheel as he alternated his eyes from the road to Mitch’s face. Pointedly ignoring his partner, Mitch kept his eyes trained forward on the traffic they weaved around, not even seeing the familiar landmarks they passed on their way back to the office.

“He wants his money, Michael. He’s tying up all the loose ends. He wants his goods back. But mostly, he wants his money.”

“Well, I don’t have it.” He sighed audibly. “As he well knows.”

“Oh, Michael. The time for choice is over. You have to get it. More lives are on the line if you don’t.”

“Whose, Von? Yours? Mine?”

“Yours. Mine. Others.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. Perhaps afraid of being overheard.

“You interfered with something big here, Michael. You and me, we thought it was all about the drugs in caskets.” She was panting as though in sudden rapid motion. “Bah, that was nothing. Everything was bigger than any of us knew. The money was earmarked, and there’s no way around it. It goes right to the top, Michael, and I—”

Thump.

Mitch heard the heavy clatter of a body falling to the ground, followed by a small gasping gurgle.

“Von?”

Silence.

Mitch disregarded protocol. “Von?” he muttered and leaned forward in his seat.

In the ensuing silence, he heard her phone drop with a clatter as he rested his forehead against the dashboard, training his ears, struggling to discern what was going on.

Footsteps sounded, approaching the earpiece. There was a shuffle of fabric and the muffled sounds of someone picking up the fallen cell. Mitch ached to say something into the line, fearing the worst. He held his calm.

With a cavalcade of sounds, he knew the phone had been lifted to another’s ear. The breathing sounded distinctly male. “She shouldn’t have called you, Mike. Or should I say Mitch?” The speaker, with an educated foreign accent, firmly enunciated each word clearly. “You’ll find her soon.”

Mitch took a deep breath, ready to respond, when a large hand reached over and took the phone from him to press the “end” key. Mitch turned his startled gaze to Luke. He had forgotten he was in a car.

His partner held up his own phone. “They’ve got the trace.”

***

Kris was tucked happily in his bed, surrounded by his favorite Avenger superheroes. Lorna kissed his forehead, and he snuggled into the pillow, a smile playing at the corners of his full, pink lips. “Did you have a good day?”

“Best ever,” he replied with a grin to light the room and warm her heart. Suddenly his arm shot out from beneath the quilt. Holding his fist high, he said. “Wook. Feel my muskles.”

She reached out to wrap her fingers around his small upper arm. “Oh. So strong,” Lorna cooed, enchanted by his animation.

“Did you see how I used my super-strength to defeat the villain?”

“I definitely did,” she confirmed, perched on the edge of his bed, visualizing Mitch holding her son in his arms. They were a good fit. She shuddered, feeling the loss. Today was the closest she had ever come to feeling that a complete family of her own was within her grasp. “Close your eyes, my darlin’, and off to sleep with you.”

Her birthday boy reached his arms around her neck, running his chubby fingers through her hair, as was his habit. “Nite-nite, Mama.”

“Nite-nite, sweetie-pie.”

Lorna turned on the hall light as she moved from his room into her den. Like her, Kris hated the dark.
May he never have my reason to fear the dark in the same way as me
, she prayed.

Sitting at her desk, Lorna set her elbows on the wooden tabletop and dropped her face in her hands.
Oh, Mitch
,
just when I thought my heart was mended. Just when I thought I was over you, you’ve come back to break it again
.

In the quiet of the den, she allowed her emotions to flow to the surface. Closing her eyes, the image of his face with those oceanic blue eyes swam amongst the memories of the sensations his touch stirred. Releasing her face, she rubbed her hands down the length of her arms, linking her fingers together, recalling the feeling of being linked with Mitch. The connection, the feeling of oneness.
He made me feel like I was finally safe
.
Will I ever find that again?

Not likely
.

Staring at her linked fingers, she knew she wasn’t about to get over Mitch. Not anytime soon.

Had I ever gotten over him?
“I’m as much in love with you now as I ever was before.”

The revelation did nothing to reduce the pain in her heart.

Rising from her desk, Lorna moved to her own room to complete her toiletries, moving by rote rather than intent. The implication of what Mitch had relayed suddenly hit while she removed her makeup. Holding the warm cloth over her face, enjoying the soothing touch of the fine cotton, Lorna’s head snapped up, and she dropped the cloth to the counter.

“Fong.”

She sat at her desk, opened her laptop, and started to scroll through the various documents she had compiled on Aqua Oil. Financial summaries, histories, newspaper clippings, projects, and finally, her list of ever-growing questions she had given to June to have Tim Fong review.

Rising from her desk, she peeked around the corner to ensure Kris was asleep. Walking with undue care, she leaned over the banister, listening for Mariam.
She’s likely in her room, watching one of her shows
. Just to be sure, she walked softly down the stairs and checked the kitchen and living room.

Satisfied, she retraced her steps. Lorna moved back to her laptop, logged into a secure site, and started hacking her way through Aqua Oil’s secure server, searching for information. Though it had been a long time since Lorna used her skills, she wasn’t rusty. The old thrill of seek and ye shall find thrummed through her veins. Everybody kept everything on their computers these days. One only had to know how to access it,
without getting caught
.

Absorbed, she set her despair and hurt aside and focused on obtaining answers. Perhaps with answers, she would be able to face everything else.
Perhaps
. As she penetrated window after window of information, a small part of her brain replayed her conversation with Mitch, piecing the bits of information together. She couldn’t be sure how much he knew versus how much was speculation. She just couldn’t seem to get over the fact that she was the subject of his investigation, and he had slept with her. No, not just slept with her: made love to her; made her feel loved.

Now all I feel is used.

As she accessed the files, Lorna’s fingers flew over her keyboard, her eyes scanning the screen as each new item came up. Within moments, a bigger picture was forming and everything was coming together. Using what she gleaned from Mitch, she was finally able to build the picture of how Tim started the company, where the money had come from.

Ohmigod.

She had bypassed security and remotely accessed Tim’s secure login. Scrolling through his personal files she discovered personal correspondence. Some was written in Mandarin, other bits were obviously coded. That didn’t bother or deter Lorna. With a bit of time, she felt sure she would crack his code. Tim was arrogant enough to think he was foolproof with his firewall.

Raised in Hong Kong, the eldest of three brothers, Tim was the son of the rather notorious Dong Ng Fong, a major Asian crime kingpin. “Even involved in piracy,” Lorna pondered aloud, reading PDF copies of newspaper articles Tim had assembled about his family members. “What was he planning to do with these clippings? A crime family scrapbook?”

Tim Fong, formerly Ping Zhang, returned to China after receiving his education with honors at Harvard. “Well, at least that’s legit,” she said, moving her mouse from one page to another.

Back in Hong Kong, Zhang was poised to take over for his father. “Sound succession planning, I guess.” However, with the imminent switch from British rule back to Chinese in the nineties, the family was motivated to relocate to North America, where they settled in Vancouver.

“Younger brother, Charles Fong, was educated at revival Yale, I see,” Lorna mused, rubbing her tired eyes. “Graduating law school. Never taking the bar exam.”

Lorna perused the limited pictures available and scratched her ear, continuing to mutter to herself. “Strictly need to know, was it?”

There wasn’t much to be had on brother Gary Fong. With little change in Hong Kong between British and Chinese rule, Dad moved back to China about the time Tim changed his name. Thereafter resulted what appeared to be a family separation with no visible contact and Tim started Aqua Oil.

“Clever move,” Lorna said. “A legit arm of the family. An ability to launder money and turn it from illegal to legal gains—and an investment to boot.”

Rather than take the time to print the pages she had up, she took screenshots. She’d print them, if necessary, later. The key to not getting caught hacking was to work it like a thief, in and out in a minimal amount of time.
Getting caught would mean the end of all I have worked for. Corporate espionage is rather frowned upon.

She checked the clock on her system. Already, she was close to her time limit.