The Trophy Wife Exchange Read online

  “Pen, when people have hidden, offshore bank accounts, it’s often because the source of the funds was illegal or undeclared.” He scoffed. “Often—I should say nearly always.”

  “What are you saying? He’s been running drugs or something?”

  He shrugged. “Could be that. Could be nothing so direct. Maybe he’s taken construction jobs for mobsters, someone who’s paying with illicit money, laundering it, and has told him it was an under-the-table deal. Advised him not to declare the money either. You know, a little nudge-nudge, wink-wink thing.”

  Mobsters? It was something the Ladies had not even considered. Pen watched the rich drink swirl in her glass.

  “If he’s been doing that—laundering money—how will we find it?”

  “It would help to find records dating back to their time together,” Benton said. “Mary should have copies of their joint tax returns, banking documents. If you can put your hands on older financial statements for the business, dated bank statements, that sort of thing, they can be compared to the more recent activity.”

  He swigged the last of his drink. “Of course, if you come up with enough information to show cause, this is exactly the kind of thing the Attorney General’s office would take on. Racketeering and hidden money—the government loves to ferret out these guys.”

  Except once the government got hold of the money, it would take a miracle for Mary to ever see a penny. Pen became quiet. Sandy had gone through the financial data they had, but now it appeared they would need more. And from what Amber had told everyone at their last gathering—the fact that money had disappeared from some of the accounts she originally located—meeting the criteria for a new hearing could prove impossible.

  He stared at her face. “Don’t give up quite yet. If you ladies can gather enough information to make a decent case, and if there’s no mob connection, there are a couple of attorneys … I’ll get some names for you. And there’s at least one judge, Marta Eggers, who’s shown a lot of sympathy toward women who’ve gotten raw deals in divorce.”

  Pen perked up at the news.

  He noticed her expression. “You can’t request a particular judge, you know. Random selection is what keeps our judicial system impartial.”

  She chafed a little at the knowledge. It felt as though they had a long way to go to solve Mary’s problem. What had started as a straightforward matter—they knew who took the money, they simply had to get it back—was now taking all sorts of convoluted twists.

  Chapter 19

  “I say we get the money back for Mary first,” Amber said, jutting her chin fiercely upward. “We can figure out how to take down Clint and Kaycie once we have her share of the cash.”

  The five women were at Gracie’s house the morning after Pen’s evening out with Benton. She’d reported his advice and caution about Clint’s possible involvement with organized crime.

  “I agree,” Gracie said as she stooped to take a tray of hot cookies from the oven. “Let me know what you want me to do. If I can help with computer research, or running errands … well, once I’ve delivered these snacks for my daughter’s class. Leave it to kids to remember stuff like this the morning it’s due.”

  “Hey, I’m just thankful I had a meeting on this side of town,” Sandy said. “Those kids are in for a treat. When I walked in here, the smell just about made my knees weak.”

  The house still held the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon.

  “The first batch goes to us,” Gracie said, removing the warm cookies to a cooling rack.

  Amber couldn’t wait. She reached for one, even though it wilted in her grasp. When she took the first bite her eyes rolled upward. “Ohmygod. Good.”

  “How do you propose we get the money, Amber?” Pen asked. She noticed Mary seemed withdrawn this morning.

  Their youngest member paced through Gracie’s family room and back. “I’ll keep monitoring his movements online?”

  Pen sat a little straighter on the stool she occupied at the kitchen counter. “I have a better idea.”

  All eyes shifted toward her.

  “We need to get closer, to go inside his operation.”

  “And how …?” Sandy looked skeptical.

  Gracie scooped cookie dough into mounds on another sheet. Her mouth curved in an impish smile. “We go there.”

  Puzzled glances. Pen nodded.

  “We go to China,” Gracie continued as she set the sheet into the oven. “Clint and Kaycie will get there and not know a soul. We can figure out ways to work our way inside.”

  “He might remember me,” Sandy said, “from the bank. And, despite the fantastic transformation, I don’t think we dare risk Mary being seen by him.”

  “Okay,” Amber said, “but that still leaves three of us he doesn’t know.”

  “And we’ll need team members to stay here. There’s going to be a formidable language barrier in China,” Pen said. “I’ve only been there twice and managed to learn no more than a handful of words.”

  “I’m good with languages,” Amber said. “I’ll study hard.”

  “China requires travel visas,” Pen said, biting her lower lip. “They normally take a couple of weeks to obtain.”

  “Clint and Kaycie are leaving tomorrow.” It was the first thing Mary had said.

  “More time for me to learn the language,” Amber helped herself to a second cookie. “Plus, I’ve got a great translation app.”

  Pen tapped her toe on the rung of her stool. “There might be a way to expedite things. Let me make a call or two.”

  She hopped off the stool and retrieved her phone from her purse on the family room sofa. Seeking a quiet spot, she walked toward the living room.

  “Another thing about traveling in China,” Sandy said, “is limited internet access. The government blocks certain sites, and I’m guessing international banking might be one area with limits. I really don’t know … just saying we need to be prepared. Amber might not be able to work her little magical hacks over there.”

  “So, it’s better if I stay here?” Disappointment showed on Amber’s face.

  “Not necessarily.” Sandy took a deep breath. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this. I really shouldn’t, considering my job. But if you mark the sites for me, I can get into them. Tell me what to move and when—I’ll do it.”

  “You’re willing to take that chance? For me?” Mary’s voice caught.

  “Trust me, it’s only for you.”

  “I’ll set you up with a fake—” Amber’s eyes gleamed.

  “Don’t say it.”

  “Then I can give you a computer that’s registered in my name and put it on a VPN,” Amber said. “Any website you visit will, at worst, only have my fingerprints on it.”

  “I feel like I should be sitting here plugging my ears and saying la-la-la,” Sandy said. “The less detail I know, the better.”

  Gracie set her oven timer and leaned against the counter. “Sandy, none of us want you to risk your job over this. You’ve worked your way up through the bank by being a hundred-percent ethical.”

  Sandy nodded, her expression sober. “True. But, you know, I feel like this is an ethical thing we’re doing. Slightly different ethics than my superiors would acknowledge, yes. But we’re taking down a cheater and liar. It’s the right thing to do.”

  Pen bustled back into the room. “Good news. I believe I can work it so we have our visas within a few days.”

  The mood brightened.

  “A friend travels from here to Los Angeles several times a week. I’ve just been on the phone with her. If we complete the applications and get them to her by tonight she’ll carry them along and walk them through the embassy herself.”

  “They’ll allow that?”

  “She’s done it before. That’s what made me think of asking her.” Pen set her phone on the counter. “Sandy and Mary will stay in Phoenix to handle things here, so it’s Amber, Gracie and myself who will go. We need the visa applications—I assume you can fin
d those somewhere online, Amber?”

  “I’m sure I can. Gracie, you have a printer?”

  A nod.

  “Show me to it.”

  Each of the three travelers took a turn, filling out the information on the online form and printing her application.

  “This has to accompany our passports and there’s a fee,” Amber told them when they were finished.

  Mary fidgeted.

  “I’ll take care of the expenses,” Pen assured her. “For now. Once we retrieve that money, I can be reimbursed, if you insist.”

  Mary didn’t look comfortable with the idea. “All of you are being so kind. I have no way to pay you back for all this.”

  Gracie spoke up. “For the cash outlay, Pen said she’s happy to wait, so don’t worry about that. As far as contributing something important to the mission, I can think of something.”

  All eyes turned toward her.

  “Our last little adventure got a bit physical at one point when a bad guy turned on me. We talked about it at the time—our getting some self-defense training. Mary, you told us you used to teach classes? While we’re waiting for the visas to come through, could you teach us?” She halted. “Well, I’m speaking for myself really. But it would be a good idea for all of us. If you don’t mind?”

  Mary beamed. “I’d love to. We could start today.”

  All at once, they became quiet as the enormity of the task hit them.

  “Okay, ladies, we have a heist to pull,” Gracie said. “Let’s get organized. Mary, can you get us time at the gym for our classes? Try to line up something for this evening. Amber, find the quickest language course you can and get cracking. Pen, you know a bit about Shanghai. Can you give us an information sheet or something—let us know what to pack, what the city is like, the weather. Tell us how to fit in—obviously, none of us can pass as Chinese, but what will make us appear less touristy, more like Americans who are working there?”

  “Bring your passports to class tonight,” Pen reminded. “I’ll arrange for my friend to meet me somewhere and hand over our papers to her capable hands.”

  Gracie whipped the cookie sheet out of the oven and put two more in. “I’ll deliver these goodies to my daughter’s school, find my passport and coordinate what it takes to let my husband know I’m going away and he’s running the show at home for awhile.”

  Chapter 20

  Kaycie sat in the Admiral’s Club international departures lounge at Sky Harbor, casual as could be, reading a fashion magazine, her foot bobbing in time to some unheard song in her head. Clint had already visited the breakfast buffet and downed two loaded plates. Now he was standing near the windows with his cell phone to his ear. Business, it seemed, occupied all his thoughts.

  Not Wednesday night, she thought with a little smile. That night she’d arrived home from work around eleven p.m. and put her pregnancy plan into action. And good old Clint—he’d fallen for her new teddy—hook, line and sinker. She ran a hand over her belly. She hoped she’d calculated her cycle correctly but with the excitement of the trip and this week being her last at work until her leave of absence was over, well, she couldn’t be sure about the best dates for conception. Still, they would be living in a fancy hotel in a foreign country for several months. Hotels always put men in the mood, she’d found. And—oops—she’d forgotten to pack her pills.

  Clint headed her way, staring at something on his phone screen and muttering under his breath.

  “Hey, Honey Bear, everything all set?” She put on her most winning smile.

  He sat on the sofa beside her. “Yeah, I guess. Derek’s already in Shanghai and says we’ll love our hotel. He’s got a driver and an interpreter all lined up.”

  Kaycie stroked the back of his neck. “Good. Nothing to worry about then.”

  His head waggled back and forth a couple times. “I just hope the meeting on Monday goes good. You know, since I haven’t ever met these guys from Tong Chen. Hard to believe we transacted this whole thing by phone and email, sending documents clear across the world.”

  “That’s what you have a Chinese lawyer for, right? Derek can handle everything you don’t understand.”

  “Hey. I understand my business just fine.”

  “Honey Bear, I meant the language. He’ll translate for you. He’s on your team.”

  He reached over and squeezed her knee. “Sorry to snap, Babycakes. It’s just been a lot of pressure. More to come when I have to hire and direct workers in another country.”

  She nodded sympathetically, pressing her leg against his hand. “Hey, there’s nothing Clint Holbrook can’t handle.”

  He began scooting his hand a little farther up her leg.

  She glanced around the lounge, which wasn’t terribly crowded although there were people near. She cleared her throat. “Um, we’ll have more privacy once we’re on the plane.”

  His face softened. “Did I hear some gossip between you and your mother, some mention of enhancing a certain anatomical area …?”

  “Maybe.”

  He was openly staring at the edge of her scoop-necked top now. “Might be a lot of fun.”

  Fun? She forced herself to override thoughts of incisions and pain with a vision of the finished result. “I don’t know. I haven’t decided if I want to go through it—surgery is pretty drastic.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Clint, take your eyes off my blouse. People will notice.” She swatted his hand with her magazine. “You know, there’s another way. If I were to have a baby, the little girls would grow into bigger girls.”

  “Yeah, for a few months. Then they’ll sag. You know I don’t want the responsibility of kids, anyway. Never did.”

  “But you never had a vasectomy, did you? I mean, if we were to decide …”

  “No doctor’s ever gonna cut on me there,” he said with a laugh. “No way.”

  You’re happy enough to let a doctor cut on me. She pushed the thought aside. For all she knew, she might be pregnant already and that would settle the question. Once he really was going to become a father, Clint would come around. She would simply wait until it was too late to back out before she informed him.

  “You want a muffin or something?” he asked. “I saw the lady putting some new stuff out on the buffet.”

  She shook her head and he walked away.

  She’d always been able to get Clint to come around to her way of thinking in the past. She could do it again. She rummaged in her oversized purse for a breath mint. Her hand came across the brochure from the cosmetic surgery clinic. For a moment she felt overwhelmed—was she going to please her husband or listen to her mother? Shouldn’t she really be deciding what she wanted for herself? She jammed the brochure back into the bag and peeked at her watch.

  The plane would begin boarding in another ten minutes.

  Chapter 21

  No matter what they did to it, Pen thought, by the end of the day a gym still smells like a gym. She walked in feeling somewhat uncertain. Were sweats the right thing to wear? Should she have pulled her hair away from her face? Had she remembered to refresh her deodorant? A young woman at the reception desk directed her down a corridor to a side room where she said Mary Holbrook asked her group to meet.

  Amber, Gracie and Sandy were already there. Mary wore sweats and a T-shirt, too, which came as a relief to Pen.

  “Okay, ladies, let’s get started.” She waved them toward the middle of the room, which looked as if it probably served several purposes—yoga studio, exercise classes, whatever. It had hardwood floors, a mirrored wall, and little cubbies in one corner where members could stash their things.

  “All right,” Mary said. “I’ll start with some simple, basic things you can do to defend yourselves at close range—let’s say a guy grabs you in a parking lot.”

  Sandy tensed a little.

  “Simplest thing you can do is just punch him. If he’s touching you or within arm’s reach, just whack him. Drive from the ground and push wi
th your hip and fist at the same time. Aim for a vulnerable place on him—eyes, nose, throat—and try to make contact with the knuckles of your index and middle fingers. Pinkies are kind of delicate for this.” Mary picked up a protective pad and held it in front of her chest. “Amber, want to go first? Let me have it.”

  Each of the women took turns until they felt more confident.

  “Whew, that was fun,” Amber said, slightly out of breath.

  “If you need more force than the punch, another good move is the old standard kick to the groin. Yeah, we’ve all envisioned taking a guy off his feet that way. To make it count, just picture your foot making contact between the legs and going right on up through the top of his head—pretend you’re gonna split him in two. Then get your balance back right away. And remember, once he’s down, you don’t stand around staring at him or wondering if he’s okay. You get the hell out of there—run.”

  Gracie laughed. “Definitely—I can swear to that.”

  “Here’s a quick way to squiggle out of a bear-hug attack, say, someone grabs you from behind and pins your arms to your side.” Mary asked Pen to simulate the attack, then simply bent her knees and wiggled out below the gripping hands. “Lowering your center of gravity makes it harder for him to get a grip on you, plus you’re now in position to kick or punch him while you have the element of surprise on your side.”

  The ladies practiced everything Mary showed them until everyone was breathing hard.

  “Thank you, Mary. I think we all feel a bit more confident now,” Pen said, patting her face with the towel she’d brought. “Now Amber, Gracie, did you bring your passports?”

  They scrambled to their purses and brought out the little blue booklets.

  “I shall run these over to my friend’s house tonight. She leaves in the morning for L.A. and we cross our fingers that the approval process goes quickly.”

  For the next three days Pen chafed at the inactivity. Until those passports were safely back in her hands, she couldn’t proceed with travel plans. Gracie phoned to say she and Amber had got together a couple of times to practice their punches and kicks. Once, the phone rang and a rapid phrase in Mandarin came at her.