Chapter 17 - The Trap
Jared nearly shouted into the phone.
Oscar raised one finger.
Calm.
Martin wanted emotion. Emotion made people careless.
Oscar took the phone.
“Where?”
Martin laughed. “Still an auditor, Mr. Blake?”
“Still bad at hiding money, Martin?”
The laugh stopped.
Oscar continued, “Blue Acre was sloppy. So were the repeated transfers. And you used the same notary too many times.”
“You think you understand what you found?”
“I understand you’re scared enough to call an old man before breakfast.”
Martin gave them a location: a parking garage near a downtown office tower at noon.
“Bring the storage records. No police.”
Oscar said, “And Evelyn?”
“She walks away.”
The call ended.
Jared said, “We’re not going.”
“We are,” Oscar replied.
Lauren stared at him. “You’re seventy-two.”
“And he thinks that makes me harmless.”
They contacted investigators.
No one liked the idea of Oscar attending the meeting, but Martin had specifically demanded him. The plan was controlled: Jared would stay away. Lauren would not attend. Oscar would carry copies, not originals. Investigators would monitor from nearby.
At 11:58 a.m., Oscar walked into the garage wearing his beige cardigan beneath a heavy coat.
Martin Vale stood beside a black sedan.
He was younger than Oscar expected, maybe fifty, with silver at his temples and the smooth confidence of a man who had spent years making dishonesty sound professional.
“Mr. Blake.”
“Martin.”
“Where are the records?”
Oscar held up a folder.
“Where is Evelyn?”
Martin gestured toward the sedan.
The rear door opened.
Evelyn stepped out.
She looked exhausted but unharmed.
Oscar watched her face.
She would not meet his eyes.
Something was wrong.
Martin held out his hand.
“Folder.”
Oscar did not move.
“First tell me why Chase is stealing from you.”
Martin’s smile vanished.
“He isn’t.”
Oscar nodded toward the sedan.
“Then you should check your trunk.”
Martin turned instinctively.
That was all Oscar needed.
He saw the black duffel through the open rear seat.
May you like
Evelyn suddenly shouted, “Oscar, he has a gun!”
Martin reached inside his coat.
