Read Online Miranda Vaughn Mystery 01.00 - Chasing the Dollar by Ellie Ashe - Free Book Online
Authors: Ellie Ashe
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Patterson office was misplaced. Half the offices weren't occupied, and I wondered how well the company was really doing. When I'd visited two years ago, it had been bustling, taking up three floors in the high-rise and employing hundreds of workers.
Martin 's office was a small suite with a sitting area by the windows. We sat in a pair of upholstered chairs, sipping tea and chatting before getting down to business.
" How can I help you, Lana?"
" Well, as I may have mentioned, my grandfather, may he rest in peace, left me a rather generous trust upon his passing. I just don't know the first thing about investing, and I really don't want to worry about that. My step-father suggested that the Patterson Company could be of assistance," I said. I was worried about laying the whole Texas thing a little too thick, but Martin seemed to be eating it up.
" And who is your step-father?"
" Lloyd Nash," I said, taking a sip of the tea and letting Martin make the connection. "He's an oil and gas man in Houston."
" Oh, Nash. Of course," Martin said, sitting a little straighter.
I 'd done my homework. Lloyd Nash was a wealthy businessman with faint ties to the Asia markets, so his name would be known, but details of his family life probably wouldn't.
Martin offered condolences on my dead granddaddy and moved his chair closer and took my hand. "I can definitely help you, Lana."
I looked up at him through a thick fringe of fake eyelashes and blinked, as if tears were threatening to spill over. They were, but it was because of the damn glue on the false lashes. He offered a tissue, and I dabbed at my eyes and gave him a smile.
We agreed to meet the following day to review my current portfolio, and he was so eager at the prospect of his commission on such a large account that I almost felt guilty for my deception. By mid-afternoon tomorrow, I'd hopefully be on a flight back to California with the thirty-seven million dollars stolen from the Sahara Fund investors wired to a numbered account in the Caymans and an affidavit signed by Bill Macias attesting to my innocence.
Martin shook my hand vigorously near the elevators and seemed reluctant to let me leave, but the office was starting to close for the day.
"Are you relocating to Macau or here for a visit?"
" I'm afraid I'm only in Macau for a short time to spend time with my mama and Lloyd."
" Oh, is Mr. Nash in town?" Martin seemed eager to expand his portfolio of wealthy clients.
" He is in Macau. In fact, he said I should stop by and visit one of his friends while I'm here. I nearly forgot. Do you know Mr. Winthrop?"
Clint Winthrop was a senior analyst in the technology group, and if the information I had was correct, he worked on the twenty-second floor, one below the energy group.
Martin nodded eagerly. "Of course, of course. He's with the technology group upstairs. Would you like me to ring him up and let him know you're here?"
" Oh, if it's not too much bother." I batted my fake eyelashes and hoped that they would hold. Martin smiled and walked back to the receptionist, who placed a call upstairs while giving me a once-over. I knew she'd find nothing out of place—the expensive handbag, the pricey shoes, the classic designer dress. It was all genuine, remnants of my former life. The receptionist hung up the phone and gave Martin a nod, and he returned to me.
" He's in and would love to meet you. I'll escort you upstairs," Martin said.
" Oh, that's not necessary, Mr. Templeton," I said, taking his hand. "I'm sure you're very busy, and I can find my way up one floor."
I had to make sure Martin did not get into the elevator with me.
"Are you sure? It's really no trouble," he said, disappointed.
" I've already taken up so much of your time today," I said. "And I plan on monopolizing your day tomorrow, as well, so I would feel terrible keeping you any longer than necessary."
I flashed a smile and batted my eyes again. Those false lashes were getting a workout. He gave me
Martin 's office was a small suite with a sitting area by the windows. We sat in a pair of upholstered chairs, sipping tea and chatting before getting down to business.
" How can I help you, Lana?"
" Well, as I may have mentioned, my grandfather, may he rest in peace, left me a rather generous trust upon his passing. I just don't know the first thing about investing, and I really don't want to worry about that. My step-father suggested that the Patterson Company could be of assistance," I said. I was worried about laying the whole Texas thing a little too thick, but Martin seemed to be eating it up.
" And who is your step-father?"
" Lloyd Nash," I said, taking a sip of the tea and letting Martin make the connection. "He's an oil and gas man in Houston."
" Oh, Nash. Of course," Martin said, sitting a little straighter.
I 'd done my homework. Lloyd Nash was a wealthy businessman with faint ties to the Asia markets, so his name would be known, but details of his family life probably wouldn't.
Martin offered condolences on my dead granddaddy and moved his chair closer and took my hand. "I can definitely help you, Lana."
I looked up at him through a thick fringe of fake eyelashes and blinked, as if tears were threatening to spill over. They were, but it was because of the damn glue on the false lashes. He offered a tissue, and I dabbed at my eyes and gave him a smile.
We agreed to meet the following day to review my current portfolio, and he was so eager at the prospect of his commission on such a large account that I almost felt guilty for my deception. By mid-afternoon tomorrow, I'd hopefully be on a flight back to California with the thirty-seven million dollars stolen from the Sahara Fund investors wired to a numbered account in the Caymans and an affidavit signed by Bill Macias attesting to my innocence.
Martin shook my hand vigorously near the elevators and seemed reluctant to let me leave, but the office was starting to close for the day.
"Are you relocating to Macau or here for a visit?"
" I'm afraid I'm only in Macau for a short time to spend time with my mama and Lloyd."
" Oh, is Mr. Nash in town?" Martin seemed eager to expand his portfolio of wealthy clients.
" He is in Macau. In fact, he said I should stop by and visit one of his friends while I'm here. I nearly forgot. Do you know Mr. Winthrop?"
Clint Winthrop was a senior analyst in the technology group, and if the information I had was correct, he worked on the twenty-second floor, one below the energy group.
Martin nodded eagerly. "Of course, of course. He's with the technology group upstairs. Would you like me to ring him up and let him know you're here?"
" Oh, if it's not too much bother." I batted my fake eyelashes and hoped that they would hold. Martin smiled and walked back to the receptionist, who placed a call upstairs while giving me a once-over. I knew she'd find nothing out of place—the expensive handbag, the pricey shoes, the classic designer dress. It was all genuine, remnants of my former life. The receptionist hung up the phone and gave Martin a nod, and he returned to me.
" He's in and would love to meet you. I'll escort you upstairs," Martin said.
" Oh, that's not necessary, Mr. Templeton," I said, taking his hand. "I'm sure you're very busy, and I can find my way up one floor."
I had to make sure Martin did not get into the elevator with me.
"Are you sure? It's really no trouble," he said, disappointed.
" I've already taken up so much of your time today," I said. "And I plan on monopolizing your day tomorrow, as well, so I would feel terrible keeping you any longer than necessary."
I flashed a smile and batted my eyes again. Those false lashes were getting a workout. He gave me
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