Gabe: The Alvarez Security Series (33 page)

“I know, my dear. And I’m trying. Don’t give up hope yet, but I wanted you to know the reality I face.”

She offered him a small smile and patted his hand. “Thank you for everything you’re doing. Really. It means a lot to me and to the residents.”

As she walked out of his office, she battled to keep the tears of desperation at bay. Seeing Monty at his desk was just icing on her crappy cake. He turned to look at her as she walked by and she could have sworn she saw a sympathetic look instead of a triumphant one. Shaking her head, she left the building with one of Tony’s men who drove her back to her office.

And now she sat and stared at her computer screen. Her phone rang and she recognized Sherrie’s number.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Jennifer? I need you to come to my office as soon as you can.”

“Are you all right? What’s wrong?” she questioned quickly.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just that…well…the law firm I work for needs to see you. They were going to send someone to the Center or your office, but I thought it would be better for me to call you since…well, since we know each other.”

“Okaaay,” Jennifer said slowly. “What’s this about?”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss this, but if you can come now, I will clear Mr. Marks’ schedule.”

Closing the files on her desk, she said, “I’m on my way. It’s Marks Attorney at Law isn’t it?”

“Yes. Right on the corner of 31
^st
and Courthouse Road.”

Jennifer sat for a moment pondering the situation.
What the hell can this be about? A lawyer needs to see me? So much that they were going to send someone for me?
Sherrie sounded nervous, so there’s no way this can be good news.
Dropping her chin to her chest for a second, she prayed,
Lord, whatever it is, help me deal. I’m not sure I can take much more.

Walking outside, she hopped in the SUV with Rick, the driver Tony had assigned, and told him where they needed to go. He was new to the agency but seemed very cautious.

“Gabe know about this?” he asked softly, pulling into traffic.

“No, but I’m just going to the law office of my friend, Sherrie. He knows her so it’ll be fine.”

He nodded but made a call from the vehicle’s Bluetooth to Gabe anyway. “FYI – taking Ms. Lambert to the law offices of Sherrie…” He looked sideways again in question.

“Mullins. Sherrie Mullins,” Jennifer said in exasperation.

“Call when you leave,” came Gabe’s reply.

The driver disconnected and they pulled up to the lawyer’s office. She was getting ready to get out, when he stopped her with his hand on her arm. “I’m going in as well.”

“I know Sherrie, she’s a friend of mine.”

“I understand Jennifer. But I’ve got my orders.”

Sighing deeply, she agreed. “Let’s go.”

Entering the old, but well-appointed reception area, they were greeted by a pleasant woman sitting behind an antique desk. “May I help you?” she asked.

Sherrie appeared from the small hall to the left and said, “Thank you, Helen. I have them.” Turning to Jennifer she smiled while glancing at the man next to her recognizing that he must be one of Tony’s men.

“Jennifer, Mr. Marks will see you now.” Looking at her escort, she smiled and offered him a seat in the reception area.

Jennifer followed Sherrie down the short hall, saying, “Girl, you’re making me nervous.”

Sherrie gave her a quick hug before ushering her into a large office filled with antique furniture. Mr. Marks was an older gentleman, reminding Jennifer of her grandfather. He smiled a warm smile and saw her comfortably settled, offering coffee or water.

Looking over at her, he began, “Ms. Lambert, I have the responsibility of handling the affairs of Mr. Stuart Mason, recently deceased.”

At this, her heart began to pound.
Oh shit, he’s going to tell me that we have to be out of the building to make way for the new owner.
She discreetly wiped her palms on her slacks, wishing she could stop the churning in her stomach as easily.

“You may not be aware that Mr. Mason had no living relatives and until recently had no will. He came to me about a month ago and we discussed his affairs.”

No relatives. Oh Jesus, the building could be auctioned off to the highest bidder and then we’d definitely be out. If it were a relative, I’d have a chance to ask them—

“Ms. Lambert? Are you all right?”

Startled out of her musing, she blushed. “Yes, I’m so sorry. I just…um…yes.”

Nodding, he looked back down at the papers in front of him. “The details of his will for the most part do not concern you, but there is the matter of the property on 21
^st
street that I understand you rent from him based on a grant.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, barely above a whisper.

“Well, I am to inform you that the property, in its entirety, has been willed to you as sole owner. The will must go through probate, but I can assure you that both my partner and I conversed with Mr. Mason and he was of very sound mind when he wanted you to have the property.”

Jennifer sat perfectly still, her numb mind racing to catch up to what her ears had heard. She stared at Mr. Marks, blinking but not really seeing. He looked at her in concern and stood quickly, walking around his desk grabbing a bottle of water from his credenza. Pressing it into her hands, he called for Sherrie to come.

Sherrie, standing on the other side of his door, entered quickly and hurried over to her friend.

Jennifer looked to Sherrie and then to the lawyer. “Me?” she muttered in disbelief. “He left it to me?”

Sherrie smiled as she sat next to her, holding her hand. “Honey, I had no idea until Mr. Marks told me yesterday. I hadn’t drawn up the paperwork, but I couldn’t have told you even if I’d known. It’s yours. Really, truly yours.”

Jennifer looked back toward the lawyer, cleared her throat and said truthfully, “I don’t know what to do with this news. Does this mean I can keep the Elder Center there? We don’t have to move? I’ve never owned property before so I don’t even know how that works. What about taxes?” Her eyes darted back to Sherrie’s as her breathing escalated.

“Ms. Lambert,” Mr. Marks said calmly. “Everything will be fine. I would advise obtaining an attorney to assist with your needs. We would love to help you, but can give you the names of others equally suited to answer all of your questions. But for now, just rest in the assurance that you own the building. And nothing, except your deciding to sell or your death, will take it away.”

Standing, he said, “There is one last thing.” He picked up an envelope from the file and handed it to her. “Mr. Mason left this for you. He said it would explain.”

With shaky hands, she took the missive from him and opened it. Sherrie and Mr. Marks sat quietly as she pulled out the letter, written in scrawled handwriting.

My dear Ms. Lambert,

“for I was hungry and you gave Me food; I was thirsty and you gave Me drink; I was a stranger and you took Me in”

I have lived alone for many years since my Ester passed away, but meeting you was like seeing her again. She loved people and loved caring for them. She would have made a good mother, but God had other plans.

I have been approached by greedy men to sell the building that houses your good work and have repeatedly refused. To ensure that you can continue doing for others what you offered to me that day…I give the building to you. Use it wisely.

May God bless you for all that you do.
Sincerely
With affection, Stuart Mason

Tears sprang to her eyes as the weight that had been pressing down on her for months began to recede. Sherrie hugged her tightly as the two women stood. Thanking Mr. Marks as she walked out, she could hear an angry voice from the reception area. It sounded like…
Gabe.

“I want to see Ms. Lambert right now. If you don’t get her, I’ll go back and—”

“Gabe, I’m here,” she said running to him, seeing Rick standing to the side, knowing he must have reported to Gabe.

“Baby, are you all right?” he asked, searching her face.

“Yes, I’m great! You’re not going to believe it, but Mr. Mason left the building to me in his will!”

Gabe stared numbly at first Jennifer and then at a smiling Sherrie before the realization hit him.
She’s got the building. Oh shit. She’s now got a fuckin’ target on her back.

“Honey, don’t you get it? I can keep the Center!” she said, not understanding the look of concern on his face.

He schooled his expression and gave her a hug. Forcing a smile at Sherrie, he turned and told Rick, “I’ve got her. Tell Tony that I’ll be back in tomorrow for a meeting.”

Rick nodded and walked out the door with Gabe and Jennifer following behind. As soon as they were settled in Gabe’s Jeep, she began to talk excitedly. Gabe let her ramble and forced himself to smile at the appropriate time and give encouraging nods.

“Gabe, I’m not stupid. You’re not nearly as excited about this as you should be. Don’t you understand what this means?” she accused.

“Babe, I do. Really I do.” Wrestling with how much to disclose to her, he wanted to make sure she was still vigilant. “My concern is that whoever killed Mr. Mason had no idea he had left a will, naming you as new owner of the building.”

“But honey, that makes it all better. Once they know, they’ll back off. They’ll know that it’s now in my hands and I won’t sell.”

Gabe glanced to the side, realizing that she understood the harshness of life but not the nefarious dealings of criminals. “Well, I’ll talk to Tony and we’re still keeping you on security detail.”

“If it makes you feel better,” she agreed, but leaned back in the seat with the calm knowledge that her troubles for the time being were over.

T
ony and Shane
were escorted into Michael Gibbons’s opulent office. Sharing a quick glance, they both acknowledged that the man was successful and had taste. Pictures on the wall showed him with politicians, both local and state, and at a closer glance indicated that he had been to the White House at one time. Pictures on his credenza showed what they assumed was his family. Well-tended wife and two children.

“Detectives, welcome,” came the smooth voice from behind them as he entered. “Forgive my not being here when you arrived; I was just down the hall finishing up a conference. Please, sit down.” Turning to his secretary, he said, “Eloise, please bring in some coffee for the gentlemen.” She nodded and quietly left the room.

“What can I help the Richland Police Department with today?” he asked, settling down behind his desk.

Matt and Shane, now settled in the comfortable leather chairs, began. “Your real estate company has helped several companies acquire buildings in the downtown area for fairly low prices and then, once they are flipped, assisted them into selling them for a great profit.”

Michael beamed proudly. “Yes, indeed. I’ve built a reputation with my company based on fairness but undoubtedly my clients know that I will seek a low buying price for them and a high selling price.” His face took on a concerned look as he continued, “But Detectives, there’s nothing wrong with this practice. Any reputable real estate company would do the same, I assure you.”

Matt nodded, “Agreed. We’re not here to question your company’s tactics, but we are concerned about some of your clients.”

At this Michael’s eyes grew wide in surprise. “My clients? Well, I suppose…I…I don’t know what to say to that. What kind of concerns are you talking about?”

“We are investigating the extortion practices where someone threatens building owners into selling at a low price in order to acquire properties to then sell at a higher price.”

“Threatens?” Michael said incredulously. “Detectives, my real estate business’ reputation is spotless. My realtors are hand-selected by me. Whether they are selling homes or high-end condos or dilapidated warehouses, they must perform to not only the industry’s, but my personal, high ethical standards.”

“Understood,” Matt agreed. “But it’s the clients that we want to pursue information on. As clients, they are not bound by your ethics.”

Michael appeared to ponder this line of thinking for a moment, and then said, “I’m not sure how I can help you. You see, when a realtor is dealing with selling a home for a family, they get to know the family selling and often the family buying. That’s not to say that they can trust them, but they have a face to go with the client’s name.” Shrugging, he added, “But for our multi-million dollar deals with many clients…we never see them. The dealings are all done through lawyers or company front end people. My realtors and I rarely actually meet them.”

His eyes darted between Matt and Shane.

Shane had not voiced any questions yet. It was the tactic often used by Matt and him. Matt asked the questions, smoothly, succinctly. And Shane provided the ‘nerve factor’. The quiet, staring, brooding cop that made the interviewee nervous. And possibly slip.

“So in most of these cases, you have never actually met someone representing the buyers?”

“No, I haven’t. I will say that as the president of my company, I’m not often in the actual dealings anymore. You are more than welcome to talk to any of my realtors.”

Eloise walked quietly back into the room and set the coffee service on the edge of his desk. She fixed a cup for Matt and Shane, handing it to them first and then turned to Michael setting his precisely on his desk where he could reach it easily.

“Eloise, would you please get a list of our realtors who have sold properties in the downtown area for the past…” he looked at Matt in question.

“Three years would be good,” Matt replied.

Eloise nodded and left the room as quietly as she had entered. Within a few minutes, she returned and handed the list to Matt. Thanking her, Matt and Shane stood up and shook Michael’s hand. As he ushered them to the door, he added, “Detectives, I have worked hard to build up what I consider to be a reputable real estate business empire. I admit that I love the creature comforts that my successful business offers and do not need any illegal gains to do that. I hope you will be discrete in checking with my clients, but I will also say that I want no part of anyone who you find to be guilty.”