Chapter 34
JORDAN
Sitting in the stands next to Libby and watching the team participate in a clinic for elementary school kids should be fun.
Actually, I should be down on the ice helping out, but I’ve been hovering near Libby all morning.
Caleb promised her an update this morning on what he’s found out about who might be working with Mitchell, and I want to be nearby when he calls.
Still, I’m about to get up and tell her that I’m going to grab a snack, just to get up, move my legs, and get out of my head, when her phone rings. I look over at her as she reaches for it.
“Caleb,” she confirms. She taps to answer on speaker. “Hey, give us a second. We’re heading into my office now for privacy,” she says.
“No problem,” Caleb replies. We’re all quiet as we hurry up the stairs to the main concourse. A cameraman who’s been hovering on the other side of the aisle from us gets up to move as well, but Libby shakes her head and waves him off. He stays put.
When we reach the doors leading to the office area, I already have my key card out, ready to swipe us through. The hallway is quiet as we head for Libby’s office, but we don’t risk talking yet.
Once the door of Libby’s office is closed firmly behind us, Libby says, “Go ahead.”
“You were right,” Caleb says. “There’s definitely a lot more to this than a half-baked blackmail scheme.”
“Do you know who’s working with Mitchell?” I ask.
“Bryce Hayes is back in Texas.”
My gaze snaps to Libby’s. Her mouth has dropped into an O. There’s silence as we process this. Back in Texas? Why would he do something so stupid, and what does it have to do with Mitchell Hurst blackmailing me?
“That’s who Mitchell is in contact with?” Libby asks. She sinks into the office chair, then rests her elbows on her desk and leans forward toward her phone.
“Yep. Don’t ask me how I know. Plausible deniability.”
Libby laughs shortly and turns to me. “That’s what he always says.”
“Bryce is behind the blackmail,” Caleb replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice, despite the seriousness of what’s happening. Clearly Caleb enjoys his job. “Mitchell gets a cut if he convinces you to pay up, but it’s Bryce who’s the real threat.”
“How?” I ask. “Can you track him?” That’s how Caleb helped Libby’s family all those years ago, the reason they trust him now. He tracked down Grayson to find Libby. “Let’s get him arrested—threat gone.”
“He’s using a burner, and he’s been really careful. When it’s on and he’s in contact with Mitchell, he’s never in the same place. I can’t even pinpoint an area in Houston for the FBI to search. He’s all over the place.”
“What’s he doing back in Texas?” I ask.
“He’s broke,” Caleb says.
I scoff. “Even he can’t have gone through fifteen million dollars in a year. Really?”
“I got a guy at the FBI who says that they traced his money finally and got a foreign government to cooperate in freezing accounts. Houston is probably a quick stop to grab some cash before he moves on somewhere else to try again.”
“So what do we do?” Libby asks, casting me a concerned look.
“This is where you’re right that they have something more than the Instagram photo of Jordan with Daria Cane.” Caleb’s voice is grave. “He showed Mitchell screenshots of some documentation he has that implies your sister, Baylee, was part of the fraud.”
“What?” I cry. “There’s no way. He screwed Baylee as much as anyone else.”
“I get it,” Caleb says. “I scrutinized the screenshots he sent and got into the accounts myself. Whatever he did, he made it look very legit. There’s evidence—” He makes sure we can hear the air quotes on the word evidence in his tone.
“—of Baylee receiving money into an account in her name and transferring it to Bryce. I’ve even got images of checks from victims of Bryce’s fraud written out to Baylee and deposited. ”
“There’s no way,” I repeat. “Baylee told me that he specifically told her that he couldn’t let her access his business account for legal reasons. She had asked him about her helping him do bookkeeping, running his business together.”
“I believe you,” Caleb says quickly. “My guess is that Bryce created these accounts in her name and he instructed some of the victims to write the checks to her. This bank allows accounts to be created online, with no in-person visit to open it. They don’t have a branch in Redhaven or even Houston. That tells me it was probably Bryce.”
It’s my turn to plop down into a chair. I run a hand through my hair, frustration building. “Is there any way to prove it wasn’t her?”
“I hope so.” I don’t like the uncertainty in Caleb’s tone.
Libby must catch it too, because her gaze snaps up to mine.
“But it might take time. We could try looking at security footage of the branch they have in Dallas, prove she never shows up there or hope that Bryce does—but like I said, everything can be created online. I might be able to find something in the digital footprint of his actions.”
“So do we need to pay Mitchell?” Libby asks.
I growl under my breath. I don’t want to give in to him, but I also don’t want my sister to be arrested.
“No,” Caleb says. “I know one of the guys on Bryce’s case.
I’ve worked with him before, and he’s the one I’ve been in contact with about getting you those records.
I say we go to the FBI and use this blackmail as a way to get Bryce out in the open.
It’s the best way I can think of to protect Baylee.
Who knows if this will be the end of Bryce using this stuff against her, even if you do pay? ”
“You think the FBI will believe us?” I ask.
“I believe, at the least, they’ll be willing to make a deal if it means getting Bryce. I don’t think the FBI knows yet that Bryce is in Texas, so even bringing that to the table slides things in your favor.”
“You didn’t tell your friend?” Libby asks.
“I didn’t want to tell him what I’d found yet. I also think if you bring that to the FBI yourselves, they’ll be more inclined to believe this is yet another case of Bryce committing identity fraud.”
Libby smiles down at the phone. No wonder this family is loyal to him. He’s got their interests first, even though he’s a consultant for the FBI.
I take a deep breath. “Set up a meeting with your friend,” I say. “I can be in Houston by tonight.”