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“Miss Olsen,” he said. “I appreciate the fact that your daughter needs you, but we have important matters to discuss here.”
She ignored him for a few seconds, continuing to stroke her daughter’s hair while sitting on the couch. Then she turned to him. “I realize that you’re here to help us, but my daughter always comes first, so give me a minute or two, okay?”
David gritted his teeth and glanced exasperatedly at Goldie, who had returned from her chase empty-handed. The van had gotten away, and that meant Lilly remained in grave danger.
“You’re safe here, honey,” Lilly repeated to Astrid. “And nothing bad will happen now.”
David stopped himself from interrupting and contradicting her. It was dangerous to tell teenagers that nothing bad happens in life. It was better to tell them that the world was a cruel place and to give them strong boundaries to mitigate the risk.
Astrid rose from the couch. “I’m going to call Noah and tell him why I’m not in school today.”
“No phone calls,” David said. “Not until I say so.”
Lilly rose also and smoothed down her shirt. “She just wants to make a quick call. There’s no harm in that, surely?”
“I said no phone calls.”
“You can’t stop me calling whoever I like,” Astrid challenged. “I’m not in jail.”
“No, you’re not in jail,” David said slowly, reminded of the arguments he used to have with Chloe, the big bust-ups that would result in her storming from the house and spending the evening with her totally unsuitable boyfriend. “But I need you to listen to me and do what I say.”
“Who put you in charge of me?” the teenager said, sliding her eyes from David’s to her mother’s, correctly identifying the weakest link in this scenario. “Mom, can I call Noah?” Her bottom lip wobbled, and she rubbed one eye like a tired toddler. “I just want to tell him I’m all right.”
Lilly nodded. “Sure, but don’t give him any details about what happened today. Tell him you’re not in school because you’re sick. Okay?”
Astrid glared at David with a hint of triumph before strutting from the room, and his hackles rose. Disobedience was something he could no longer abide in young adults. As a widowed single dad raising two girls, he’d made the mistake of believing that you could reason with teenagers, that you could give them some freedom and be prepared to compromise. But that was before Chloe ended up in a car wreck with her drunk boyfriend and suffered irreversible brain damage as a result. Prior to the accident, she had gone off the rails, become totally unmanageable, and David blamed himself for her downfall. If only he had set stronger rules when she was younger. If only he’d come down harder. And now Lilly Olsen was making the same mistake.
“Teenagers need a firm hand, ma’am,” he said. “Trust me, I know. You shouldn’t let your daughter get away with manipulating you.”
Lilly’s brows crinkled beneath her sleek blond fringe. “Manipulating me? Is that what you think she’s doing?”
“Yes, I do. She’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”
She held up a palm. “Excuse me, Agent... What was your name again?”
“Agent McQueen, but you can call me David.”
“Okay, David,” she said with a false smile. “You literally just met me, and you know nothing about me, or my daughter, so can I suggest that you mind your own business and focus on the man who just tried to kill me.”
David rubbed a hand down his face as Lilly’s clear blue eyes bored into his. With her arms crossed and her head slightly tilted, her previously soft features now took on a harder tinge. Her criticism was undoubtedly fair. He had lost concentration, thinking back to times when his own daughter had emotionally manipulated him, just like Astrid had with her mom. At that moment, there was a bigger issue to tackle.
“I apologize,” he said, sitting on the couch. “You’re right. Let’s get to work.” He pulled a photograph from a file that he had placed on the coffee table. “Was this the man who attacked you?”
She responded instantly. “Yes, his name is François Berger. He’s a wealthy art collector, originally from France but living in Pittsburgh for the last twenty-five years. I’ve been speaking regularly with him on the phone for the past couple weeks and he finally came into the bank yesterday to transfer his money to a European account. He’s moving back to Paris next week.” She touched the photo. “He seemed so nice when I spoke with him. Why would he try to kill me?”
David placed the photo back into the file. “His real name is Gilbert Henderson and he’s a con man, born and raised right here in Pennsylvania.”
“No, that’s not possible. This guy has a French accent.”
“It’s fake. Everything about Gilbert Henderson is fake. We’ve been trying to catch him for more than ten years, but I gotta give him respect where respect is due. He’s cunning, he’s smart and he’s always one step ahead of us.”
“So where is the real François Berger?”
“Dead.”
Lilly gasped. “How?”
“We found him in his chest freezer, probably been there a while. We’re doing an autopsy to establish the cause of death, but it looks like a bullet to the head.”
Lilly clearly struggled to make sense of this. “But... What... Why?”
“Gilbert Henderson targets wealthy individuals with little or no family,” he explained. “He chooses somebody with the same age and characteristics as himself. He then murders them and assumes their identity, before setting out to empty their bank accounts and strip their assets. He does this so quickly and professionally that by the time we’re alerted to the crime, he’s long gone. And so is the money.”
“But I transferred Mr. Berger’s money to a legitimate bank in France. They’ll have procedures to deal with fraud so you can recover it.”
David smiled at her naïveté. “Once the money reached the French account, it was moved again and again via very complex channels. It’s now been funneled into countries where we have no financial jurisdiction.”
“Everything was in order,” she said, her eyes scanning the carpet, perhaps wondering how she could have prevented this crime. “He gave me all the right identification documents and said all the right things. I didn’t suspect a thing.”
“Don’t blame yourself. This is probably the fifth time Henderson has gotten away with this type of fraud. We almost caught him this time when a cleaner reported finding Mr. Berger’s body in the freezer yesterday and we suspected Henderson was the culprit. But we were just a few hours too late. The apartment has been stripped of the expensive artwork and all of Mr. Berger’s accounts are empty.”
“If you know this guy’s identity, why not just arrest him?”
“We have no evidence to arrest him.”
“What? You must have evidence?”
“You are the only evidence we have.”
“Me?”
“Yes. Henderson is careful to avoid security cameras, he doesn’t leave a trace of himself behind and he leaves no witnesses.” David realized that he needed to correct his words. “Actually, that’s not true. He can’t avoid creating one witness per crime, and that’s the bank clerk who performs the money transfers. He deliberately chooses banks where the staff won’t have met his victim and he’ll then interact with just one person during the entire transaction.”
“I thought it was a little strange that he didn’t go to our bigger branch in Pittsburgh,” Lilly said. “But he said he was spending some time with friends in Oakmont and preferred the friendly service of our small-town office.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe I was actually flattered by the compliment.”
“Con men are usually incredibly charming. It’s why they’re so good at manipulating people.”
Lilly was obviously beginning to understand the gravity of her situation. “You’re saying I’m the only person who saw his face while he committed this crime?”
“Correct.”
“What about the documents he gave me? I took copies of his passport and driver’s license as part of the background checks.”
“Those documents belong to the real Mr. Berger, so they’re no use to us.”
Lilly was wide-eyed and unbelieving. “Really? I checked them thoroughly and the photographs matched the person.”
“Henderson only ever selects victims who already bear a strong resemblance to him, and he’ll change his hair, wear contacts and false teeth if necessary. None of the bank clerks have spotted the lie so far.”
“What happened to them?” she asked, her voice suddenly shaky. “To the other clerks who were duped like me?”
David glanced at Goldie, reluctant to answer truthfully. He didn’t want to scare Lilly even more than she was already and, sensing his hesitancy, Goldie stepped into the silence, speaking softly and with concern.
“The other four clerks were all found dead the day after the crimes. We weren’t able to save them in time, but we can help you now. We won’t allow any harm to come to you. With your witness testimony, we have enough evidence to finally issue a warrant for the arrest of Gilbert Henderson. We just need to find him first.”
“Before he finds me,” Lilly said. “Because if I’m dead, then he walks free, right?”
“Right,” said Goldie. “But that’s why we’re here. We won’t let him find you.”
The color had drained from Lilly’s face, and David gently patted her hand, which was cold and clammy. “As soon as Henderson is in custody, you’ll be safe. He’s worked alone ever since his accomplice was murdered ten years ago, so he’s the only threat we need to neutralize.”
“What happens now?” she asked him. “Do I have to go into witness protection?”
“Yes, just for a short while.”
She put her head in her hands. “What about Astrid?”
“Can she stay with relatives until you return home?”
“No, you don’t understand,” Lilly said. “Astrid saw this man’s face when he attacked us today. Won’t that make her a target too?”
David caught sight of his partner’s stony expression. This was a complication that neither of them had anticipated, and Goldie led David by the arm into the kitchen.
“Astrid is a witness to attempted murder,” Goldie whispered. “She saw Henderson’s face during the gun attack and that puts her in the firing line. He’ll want her eliminated too. You know he never leaves a loose thread.”
The last thing David wanted to do was look after a teenage girl, especially one who would undoubtedly push all his buttons and remind him of his most serious failures as a father. But what choice did he have? Astrid was now in as much danger as her mother.
Lilly appeared in the kitchen doorway. “Astrid has to come with me,” she said. “I won’t go without her.”
David noticed that a bruise was appearing on Lilly’s forehead. “I agree. Can you both pack some things? Enough for a week to start off.”
“Astrid’s not going to be happy,” she replied. “She’ll kick against it, but please try to understand that she’s only fifteen. She’s a child.”
Chloe had been only a couple of years older than Astrid when the car in which she’d been traveling slammed into a tree and damaged her young brain. She had been just seventeen when forced to learn to walk and talk again, to use a knife and fork, to regret not listening to her father.
“Astrid may be a child,” David said. “But she can follow orders and do what I ask. I’d like your support in ensuring she complies with my rules.”
He saw Lilly’s jaw clench, her nostrils flare. This clearly wasn’t going to be easy.
“I’m Astrid’s mother, and I’ll make the decisions on what rules she follows.”
David took a deep breath. “From what I’ve seen of the interactions between the two of you so far, it doesn’t appear that your daughter respects your authority.”
“Of course she does,” Lilly retorted.
“No, she doesn’t. She’s willful, disobedient and challenging, and I need her to understand that I don’t tolerate backchat, not when your lives are in my hands.”
Lilly blinked fast, her dark lashes moving so quickly that he almost expected to feel a breeze.
“You don’t have kids, do you, David?” she said.
“Yes, ma’am, I do—two daughters, both now in their twenties. Sarah is a lawyer in Philadelphia and Chloe currently lives in Penn Hills.”
Lilly’s expression was one of surprise. “And did you demand total obedience from them, as well?”
I wish I had, thought David. Maybe Chloe would now be a doctor like she planned, instead of residing in an assisted living complex.
“Let’s stick to the current situation here,” he said, sidestepping the question. “Go talk with Astrid, pack your bags and we’ll discuss details afterward.”
Lilly stalked from the kitchen, but not before he heard her mutter under her breath, “Control freak.”
David leaned against the kitchen counter. He’d rather be accused of being a control freak than a weak parent. And no matter how hard he tried to understand her reasoning, Lilly was a weak parent, allowing Astrid the freedom to dress like a ghoul, speak like a brat and get her own way.
In order to keep them both alive, he would have to insist that Lilly follow his parenting rules from now on. No exceptions.
TWO
“No way,” Astrid said, removing her neatly folded clothes from the suitcase and placing them back in the drawer. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Lilly sat on her daughter’s bed. Despite Astrid’s insistence on being grown-up and independent, her bed was filled with her childhood teddies. Lilly picked up a white fluffy bear, Astrid’s favorite stuffed toy. She had always called him, simply, White Bear.
“I’m not asking you to do this, I’m telling you,” Lilly said, still stinging from Agent McQueen’s criticism that Astrid didn’t respect her authority. That just wasn’t true, at least not all the time. “You don’t have a choice.”
“Mom, this is crazy. People only go into witness protection programs in the movies. We live in boring Oakmont, remember?”
Lilly wondered how Astrid could have forgotten her terrifying ordeal so quickly. That morning’s school run was anything but boring.
“Somebody tried to hurt us today,” she said. “I mean really hurt us. And you have to admit you were scared.”
Astrid swallowed and Lilly saw the fear momentarily return. “Yeah, I was scared, but we’re okay now, and the guy was probably high on drugs or something.”
“I already explained this to you, honey,” Lilly said. “He deliberately targeted me because of something bad that happened at the bank, and he’ll come back. We need to leave town until he’s caught, and then we’ll be able to come home.”
“How long will it take?”
“I don’t know, but we should take enough clothes for a week.”
“A week? Seriously? It’s Kaitlyn’s sixteenth birthday party on Saturday night. I can’t miss that. And what about school?”
Lilly stroked the soft fur on White Bear. “I know this is hard, but we have to make sacrifices. Our safety is more important than a birthday party or missing a week of school.”
Astrid flopped on the bed next to her mother. “Are you sure that this FBI guy isn’t exaggerating? He seems kinda repressed, like he’s full of trapped gas or something.”
Lilly couldn’t help but laugh at this fitting description of Agent David McQueen. It was then that she noticed him standing at the slightly open door, listening to their conversation, his head cocked to the side as if amused. Or annoyed. When her gaze met his, he held it for a few seconds, saying nothing.
She tried to imagine this buttoned-up man parenting two daughters, but couldn’t envisage him playing with toys or reading books, especially while wearing his dark suit and tie. Given that his children were now adults, she guessed that his age would be somewhere in the midforties, a good ten years her senior, yet he could pass for a much younger man. With a full head of curly brown hair, smooth tanned skin and a neatly trimmed beard, he was attractive without being too polished or high-maintenance. He had an outdoorsy look that was most definitely Lilly’s type. Not that it mattered anyway—romance was a thing of the past for her, and her sole focus was placed on raising her daughter.
“May I come into your room, Astrid?” David asked, knocking on the door. “I promise to keep my trapped gas where it is.”
Astrid sat upright and shifted closer to Lilly. She clearly wasn’t comfortable with the burly FBI agent who had invaded her home.
“Sure,” she said, with affected nonchalance. “Whatever.”
He entered the room, surveying the mixture of teenage music posters and babyhood relics. He also couldn’t fail to notice the colossal mess on the floor. Shoes, purses, belts and makeup palettes were strewn across the carpet, and his expression didn’t hide his disapproval.
“I wanted to let you know that we’ve managed to secure a safe house for the coming week,” he said. “Goldie and I will escort you there and remain with you until Gilbert Henderson is in custody.”
“Do you have any leads on him?” Lilly asked, desperately hoping that he might have been captured already by a patrol unit.
“We found the stolen van abandoned in a Pittsburgh parking lot, and we’ve got detectives reviewing the security footage of the stores in the area to see if we can track his movements. He’ll crop up on the radar sooner or later, I’m sure of it.”
Remembering David’s description of this guy as both cunning and smart, Lilly wasn’t so sure.
“Why can’t we stay here?” Astrid said, picking at chipped nail polish. “You could stay here too and then when this guy comes back, you arrest him.” She put her palms up in the air. “Mission complete.”
“It’s not that easy,” David replied. “This house has too many points of entry and it’s a single-story home, surrounded by lots of dark hiding places. I’m not comfortable protecting you here.” He checked his watch. “I’d like to be gone in one hour. Do you think you could have a suitcase ready by then?”
“So that’s it?” Astrid said, rising to stand and fold her arms. “You get to make all the decisions about where and when we go?”
“Yes.”
Astrid looked at Lilly imploringly. “Mom,” she whined. “I don’t want to go.”
“You have two options,” David said. “You come with me or you place yourself in serious danger. Do you really want to do that?”
Lilly stood between David and Astrid. “That’s enough talk of danger,” she said, rebuking the FBI agent. “Astrid and I will be ready in an hour.” She fixed him with a hard stare. “Okay?”
“There’s just one more thing,” he said. “We’ll be trying to blend in, to look as normal as possible. We don’t want to attract any attention when we go outside.”
Lilly wasn’t sure what he was getting at. “And?”
“And Astrid sticks out like a sore thumb in that gloomy costume she’s wearing. She needs to change clothes and wear something more suitable. Might I suggest jeans and a sweatshirt?”
“Gloomy costume?” Astrid said with incredulity. “You’re so old and stupid. You don’t know anything about being cool.”
“Astrid!” Lilly said sharply. “That’s enough.”
David smiled. “I admit that I don’t know anything about being cool, but I know a lot about witness protection, and you cannot wear those type of clothes if you want to fade into the crowd.”
“I expect you want me to wear a pretty dress with flowers and bows, right?” Astrid said sarcastically. “Like your own daughters probably did.”
Lilly saw a sudden change come over him, a sadness clouding his eyes, and she knew that Astrid had hit a raw nerve.
“This is getting a little out of hand,” she said, taking hold of David’s arm and leading him to the door. “Astrid, please pack your suitcase and change clothes. You can wear black jeans and your hooded sweatshirt.”
“And black lipstick?” Astrid said hopefully.
“Yes, black lipstick too,” Lilly replied, feeling too drained to argue on this small point. “Be ready in an hour.”
With that, she steered David out of the room and clicked the door closed behind her, instantly hearing rock music playing on Astrid’s speaker.
“You shouldn’t give in to her like that,” David said. “She needs to follow strict instructions.”
“Oh, come on,” Lilly shot back, her mood darkening. “Do you really think that a little black lipstick is going to attract a huge amount of attention?”
“It’s not just the lipstick. It’s a slippery slope. Once you give in to one small demand, it soon snowballs into much bigger things. And if you lose control of her, it’ll be impossible to get it back.”
Lilly breathed slowly in though her nose and out through her mouth. “I know you have an important job to do, and it’s understandable that you want Astrid to play by the rules, but she’s just a kid. You can’t poke fun at her clothes like that and expect her to respect you. She has thoughts and feelings just like you, so quit being so hard on her, okay?”
He seemed to think long and hard about Lilly’s reprimand. “I’m sorry, but I’m only saying these things for your own benefit. I don’t want you to make the same mistake as I did.”
“What mistake?”
He briefly closed his eyes. “It’s nothing.” He turned to walk down the hallway. “I’ll wait in the living room while you pack a suitcase.”
Lilly watched him stride away and pondered the words that he had left unsaid.
David kept a close eye on the street outside while Lilly brushed her daughter’s hair in the hallway and tied it up in a ponytail. With her bright blond strands and olive-toned skin, Astrid really was a carbon copy of her mother. Both tall and rangy, they possessed a Viking quality, women who were undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with. Lilly was clearly strong-minded and raising a strong-minded daughter, but she had so much to learn about teens. Astrid was already pushing her boundaries, perhaps even going off the rails, and Lilly’s response was to compromise. One thing you should never do with an errant teenager is compromise.
Goldie was performing one last security check of the house, ensuring that the sensor alarms were working correctly. These sensors would give them a warning of unauthorized entry. If Henderson came looking for Lilly and Astrid here, the silent alarm would trigger an immediate police response.
His cell phone buzzed, and he slipped it from his pocket to look at the display, smiling on seeing Chloe’s name.
“Hi,” he said, hitting the answer button. “How are things in Penn Hills today?”
“Good.” She sounded happy, and he was pleased. “The sun is shining.”
“Listen, Chloe, I’m glad you called because I have to go away for a week with work, so I won’t be able to come see you for a while, okay?”
“Sure, Dad. I’m fine with that. I don’t need to see you every day, you know. I’m a grown woman now.”
“I know.” He found it impossible to cut Chloe’s apron strings. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“I wanted to tell you that I had a job interview early this morning, and it went really well. I think I’ll get it.”
“A job interview? Really? Why didn’t you tell me? Where is it?”
“Whoa,” she said. “One question at a time, Dad.”
He deliberately slowed down, remembering that Chloe needed time to process information.
“Okay,” he said. “What job is it?”
“An assistant at the local grocery store,” she said, with an obvious smile. “It’s a nice place and the staff are friendly and the manager said I could take extra time to learn the shelf-stocking system if I need to.”
“That’s great, honey, really great,” he said, feeling disappointment sink deep down into his belly. “I’m proud of you.”
Before the accident, Chloe had been expected to graduate top of her class, and the medical profession was her passion. At the age of twenty-one, she should have been a doctor in training, not hoping to stock shelves at a grocery store.
“If I manage to hold down this job, then I might be allowed to move out of my assisted living apartment and rent a regular place with my friends. That would be really cool, right?”