Chapter Nineteen Scamming the Scammers
Chapter Nineteen
Scamming the Scammers
Washington, D.C.
There was only one phone number listed for Sunnydale on all of the documents, website, and brochures. It was the one in Arizona. Nikki dialed.
“Good morning. My name is Nikki Quinn. I represent the estate of the Rutledge family. Is there someone I can speak to about investment opportunities?”
“One moment, please.” The general operator put the call through to Janet Turner.
A gruff voice answered. “This is Janet Turner. How can I help you?”
“My name is Nikki Quinn. I represent the estate of the Rutledge family. Is there someone I can speak to about investment opportunities?”
“I’m sorry, we are not looking to invest in anything,” the woman barked back.
“Oh, no. We are not looking for you to invest. The family I represent is looking to invest money. We have a short window of opportunity, but there is three million dollars that has to be moved into an investment property as quickly as possible.”
There was silence on the other end. Then, “How did you hear about us?”
“Sunnydale is known throughout the country. It’s considered a model for retirement communities. With each generation living longer, we believe there is a future for continued growth.”
“I see.” Turner’s wheels were spinning.
“Is there someone I can meet with to discuss the possibility?”
Turner scurried to find a pad and pen. “Let me have your information, and I will call you back shortly.”
“Fine. But please keep in mind, my time is limited, and I am leaving the country; therefore, I want to get this settled before I travel. Should the principals be interested, I would like to visit the location in Florida, since I’m in the same time zone.”
Turner was practically blubbering. “Sure. I’ll get on it right away. Thank you.”
Nikki was convinced Turner bought it. She figured Turner would get back to her momentarily.
Janet Turner’s hands were shaking, probably for the first time since, forever. Nothing ever fazed her, but lately? The pressure has been on, and now there may be a solution. She grappled with the phone to find Spencer’s private number.
A concerned voice answered. “Aunt Janet? What’s going on?”
“A most fortuitous phone call just came through.”
“Oh?” Gerber could not imagine his aunt bringing anything to the table. What she lacked in personality, she made up with spite.
“Yes. A woman named Nikki Quinn called. She represents the Rutledge family. They are looking to invest money. Here!” It was the most joyous Janet Turner had ever sounded.
“Hold on. You say a woman named Nikki Quinn has someone who wants to invest?”
“Yes. She represents the Rutledge family.”
Spencer turned toward his laptop and looked up Rutledge Industries. Sure enough, the company was valued close to a hundred million dollars. He let out a whistle. “You sure it wasn’t a prank?”
“Who would do such a stupid thing?” She was losing her patience. “Do you want the information or not?”
“Yes, Aunt Janet. Please,” he said with insincere earnest.
She spelled out the name and gave him the number. “She’s waiting for your call.”
Spencer circled the name and phone number. “Nikki Quinn, you may have saved us from a major train wreck.” He straightened up and dialed the number.
“Nikki Quinn,” a melodious voice answered.
“Hello. This is Spencer Gerber.”
“Senator Gerber?” Nikki asked, as if she had no idea who it was.
“One and the same. I understand you have a client who is interested in investing in Sunnydale.”
“That is correct. What is your relationship with them, if I may ask?”
“Truth be told, they’re owned by one of my campaign contributors. I try to look out for the people who look out for me.”
“I see. Is it possible for us to meet?”
“Yes, of course.” He considered including Max. It was probably a good idea. He was the numbers guy. “There is another person who we should include in our meeting. Congressman Maxwell Hawthorne. Sunnydale has a location in his district.”
“Yes, I am aware. If we can meet within the next forty-eight hours, and come to a verbal agreement, I would like to tour the location in Florida over the next few days.”
“That should work for us. I’ll get in touch with Max. When and where do you want to meet?”
“My office, say, Wednesday evening? I’ll be tied up rather late. Do you mind if we meet after dinner? Say, nine?”
“Perfect.” Gerber could barely contain his excitement.
“We will expect all parties to sign a nondisclosure agreement regarding the details of our meeting.”
“Absolutely!” Gerber could not be more pleased with the prospect of carrying on with his current lifestyle.
“Fine. I look forward to it. Thank you.” Before she hung up, she gave him her address, then made a note to check her office audio equipment so she could record any incriminating information they would put forth.
Max answered his private line with a grunt. “Yeah.”
“Remember that miracle we were hoping for?” Spencer’s voice was bubbly.
“What are you talking about?” Max was totally fed up with Spencer and his addled brain.
“Have you heard of Rutledge Enterprises?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“They are looking to invest money. In Sunnydale.”
“What?” Max was incredulous. “Who?”
“A woman named Nikki Quinn. She represents the family, and they are impressed with our operation. She said it is a model of future communities. Or something like that. Whatever. She’s got quite a bit of money to throw around. She wants us to meet in her office Wednesday at nine p.m.”
“Are you sure this isn’t some kind of scheme?” said one schemer to another.
“Doesn’t sound like it. I checked the website. The company is rolling in the green.”
Max was not convinced that a fairy godmother had appeared, but he had nothing more to lose at this point.
He knew his marriage was already gone. It was simply a matter of ironing out the ugly details.
He wondered which one of them—he, or Karen—would make the first move.
He knew if he did, she would have a hissy fit.
Maybe he should wait for her to approach the subject, which was possible if confronted with an empty pocketbook.
He could no longer provide the essentials.
Her extracurricular activity of overspending would have to end or find another source.
Right now, he may have a way out of the Sunnydale situation.
That would be his exit ramp. “Alright. Give me the info.”
Gerber gave him the address and got off the phone. The excitement caused a bulge in Spencer’s pants. He wondered what Karen was doing at the moment.
Theresa was happy to hear from Annie. Annie explained that Theresa’s trio would be needed on Wednesday evening. “If they ask why, tell them you’re not sure, but instructions are forthcoming.”
“Whatever you say,” Theresa responded.
Annie smiled. It was almost as good as the Sisterhood cry, “Whatever it takes.” She knew she could trust Theresa to stick to the plan, once things were decided.
Theresa, Henry, and Frida had made plans to go to Cave Butte to watch a hot-air balloon event.
Theresa phoned Henry and told him she was on her way, and that she was going to use the name “Terry” at the security gate.
She donned the wig and her sun hat and proceeded to Sunnydale.
Earlier, they had decided to take Theresa’s vehicle.
It could withstand a more rugged terrain.
Not that they planned to do any off-road excursions, but it was more conducive to sightseeing from the inside of the SUV.
When she arrived at the security gate, she kept her sunglasses on and the brim of her hat close to her nose.
She was being cautious. Not that it would be a big deal if the guard recognized her, but why mess with fate?
She kept her head cocked to the left and announced, “Hi. Terry visiting Henry Pushkin.”
The guard took no time in phoning Henry. “A Terry is here to see you.” The guard pressed the lift button. “Do you know where he lives?”
“Yep. Thanks! Have a nice day.” Theresa continued to look away from him.
She drove around to the parking area behind the cypress trees that separated the lot from the duplexes.
Henry answered the door and balked. “Terry?”
Theresa quickly slithered past him. Frida looked on with surprise. “Oh for. What’s this?” Her Minnesota accent came through.
“Let’s get on the road. I’ll explain on the way,” Theresa said.
The three walked to the parking lot, where Theresa had kept the motor running. The interior was at a comfortable temperature, and she wanted it to stay that way. Even a few short minutes could raise the heat several degrees.
Once they were outside of Sunnydale, Theresa began to explain.
“Remember I told you I had a friend who was doing some checking on Sunnydale?”
“Ya,” Frida replied.
“She and her friends have been ‘peeling the onion,’ as they say. I can’t get into it right now, but this disguise was in case anyone recognized me.”
“What of it?” Frida asked.
“According to Sunnydale, my Aunt Dottie passed away, and I was unceremoniously dismissed.”
“Ya.”
“So why would I go back to Sunnydale?”
“Because you made new friends,” Frida said innocently.
“That much is true.” Theresa made a quick glance at her and smiled. “The point is, my friends didn’t want me to bring any attention to myself.”
“This is starting to sound juicy.” Frida chuckled.
Henry sat in the back, listening quietly with a big grin on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had this much fun. He was growing fond of Frida, and he enjoyed Theresa’s gumption.
Theresa continued, “My friend explained that there was something in the offing, but she wasn’t at liberty to say.
All I can tell you is that someone is looking into the strange and creepy stuff we saw, and they confirmed that the lady in the wheelchair is my Aunt Dottie.
” She paused. “I had to keep that information under my hat”—she tapped the brim—“until now.”
“What are we going to do about it?” Henry asked firmly.