Page 41
Story: Stone (Falcon’s Rest MC #1)
41
A drenaline flooded Stone’s system, and he yanked Juliana behind him as he pinpointed the source of the noise. The door to the granary bounced against the wall and a figure, backlit from behind, stalked toward them. Stone couldn’t see his features, but he recognized the form. For whatever reason, Archibald Griswold had inserted himself into their plan.
Lowery, Polinsky, and Gregor had all spun and now pointed their weapons at the professor. Stone had very nearly pulled his, too, but he’d had enough presence of mind not to—he may not have known what the hell was going on, but he did know that three-to-one odds were not good for him and Juliana. They’d be safer if no one knew he had a gun—at least for now.
“They keep playing along because he pays them to,” Griswold announced. “It started out as straight blackmail, but now Polinsky and Lowery are making a pretty penny on the deals as well,” he announced.
“Who the fuck are you?” Lowery demanded.
Griswold, dressed in a Grateful Dead T-shirt and cargos, strode into the room as if three guns weren’t pointed at him. Stopping opposite Stone and Juliana, he crossed his arms and glared at everyone.
“Archibald Griswold. I’m your worst nightmare,” he said.
“Cliché, don’t you think?” Gregor said.
Griswold shrugged. “I’ve worked for the army for nearly fifty years. I know people and things you couldn’t even dream of, son. And I have a particular dislike of crooked soldiers. The army is a shithole to begin with, and people like you are the degraded pile of liquid shit at the bottom of that cesspool.”
Stone bit back a chuckle while Juliana turned a little green at the description.
Lowery cocked his head. “You hate the army, but you’ve worked for it for nearly five decades?”
Griswold slid him a look. “It’s too complicated for your simple mind to grasp. And I don’t explain myself to anyone.”
“But you’re going to explain why you’re here, right?” Juliana asked. Griswold hadn’t been part of their plan, and Stone wanted to know the answer to that as well.
Griswold studied her, then swung his gaze to Lowery. “You have an offshore account in the Caymans—talk about cliché—with a sum just shy of eight million sitting in it.” He slid his attention to Polinsky. “And you were a little more cautious and opened one in Switzerland. As of this morning, it has an amount of $12,314,253.”
Polinsky blinked. “How the hell would you know that?”
Griswold tipped his head in response. “Interesting that Polinsky has more than Lowery, isn’t it? Sure, Lowery used his payouts to lobby certain friendly commissioners. Commissioners who help push through whatever crooked plan Gregor asked,” he said, more than asked. “But Polinsky’s been spending money, too. Paying cops off. And still, he has more. Do you think he’s being paid more than you?” he said, directing the comment to Lowery. “Or is he overstating the kickbacks and skimming the top?” He directed that question to Gregor. “Either way, now we know why the three stick together. Lowery and Polinsky aren’t the victims they like to think they are.”
“Who the hell are you?” Gregor repeated.
“Asked and answered,” Griswold shot back, although the question hadn’t been a real question, more of an existential comment.
“They know which officers are on your payroll, Dean,” Lowery said, leafing through the papers.
“Like hell they do. I paid in cash, and there’s no way to trace it. They may think they know, but there’s no proof.”
There might not have been proof before his comment, but between his statement and their research, they had enough evidence now. At least on Polinsky.
“What else is there?” Gregor asked Lowery.
“Records of my land use votes as well as donations to campaigns that benefited your development work,” Lowery answered.
“Which doesn’t prove anything,” Gregor said.
“When coupled with the account we found in the Caymans? Sure it does.” This came from Juliana, and Stone shot her a look. He was not pleased that she’d brought herself to their attention again. Especially not when Griswold was doing a good job of holding it on his own.
She shrugged, then as if to appease him, inched closer.
“What I found most interesting, though, was Gregor’s time in New Orleans,” Griswold said.
Stone’s brows dropped. What the hell had Griswold been up to? They hadn’t seen him at the clubhouse since that first day, and although Viper had been keeping him appraised, they’d seen neither hide nor hair from him.
“You don’t know shit about New Orleans,” Gregor said, sounding oddly like a disaffected teenager and not a man in his early sixties.
“Roman Veselka? Vitaly Mikhelson?” Griswold said.
Gregor paled, then turned a little green.
“What’s going on?” Juliana whispered in his ear. Stone shook his head. He recognized the names—a couple of Russian oligarchs who moved between legal and illegal enterprises like water through a sieve—but he didn’t know what they had to do with anything.
“Mikhelson’s still looking for that three million you stole from him,” Griswold added.
Stone fought a lip twitch. He didn’t have the whole picture, but he did know that stealing from people like Vitaly Mikhelson wasn’t a good idea.
“It was part of the deal,” Gregor spat back. Then seemed to catch himself and snapped his mouth closed.
“Good old Brian assumed a different name, Gregory Lanscomb, and became a trusted broker to several oligarchs looking to use real estate in the US to park their questionably attained millions,” Griswold explained.
Stone glanced at Polinsky and Lowery. Judging by Lowery’s grayish skin tone and Polinsky’s look of terror, neither had known.
“And I bet he received a nice commission for his efforts,” Juliana said, her voice laced with disgust. “Do you have any idea how much that kind of foreign ‘investment’ has impacted the housing prices for those of us who live and work here?”
Griswold cocked his head and Stone thought he might have seen a glimmer of a smile, but then he raised an eyebrow.
Juliana cleared her throat. “Right, that probably wasn’t top of mind when you helped criminals launder their money !”
Stone fought his own smile. If they ever decided to have kids, he had a pretty good idea of what she’d sound like as a disciplinarian.
“That explains where the money came from for his first investment property in San Francisco,” Stone said.
“And why he came in the first place,” Lowery added, glaring at Gregor. “Three million dollars is pocket change for someone like Mikhelson, but he wouldn’t let the slight to his ego go. You needed somewhere to hide in plain sight, and a relatively small investment opportunity in distant San Francisco gave you that place,” Lowery said, directing that last comment to Gregor.
“Mikhelson’s bitch of a daughter was turning him against me,” Gregor snapped.
“Smart woman,” Juliana muttered.
“She somehow figured out that Gregory Lanscomb wasn’t my real name. Why it mattered, who the hell knows?—”
“Because if you lie about one thing, most people will wonder what else you’re lying about,” Polinsky said, his voice laced with disbelief.
“I closed every deal the way they wanted and earned my cut of each fair and square,” Gregor retorted, glaring at him.
“Until you stole three million dollars,” Lowery said.
Gregor’s eyes narrowed. “Like you said, chump change. Not even a rounding error.”
Stone caught Griswold’s eye and gave a tiny nod. Now they had solid incriminating evidence against Gregor as well as Polinsky. Only Lowery remained.
“I’m curious, Supervisor,” Juliana said. “When Brian came back to town, was it good to see an old friend? Or were you nervous he’d bring the past back with him?”
“Neither,” Lowery answered without hesitation. Interesting.
“You never liked him, did you? Seemed shifty from the start? But what happened in Iraq tied you to him. And when he called and asked you out for a beer, or maybe dinner, you couldn’t say no because you didn’t want to risk pissing him off,” Juliana continued. Griswold shifted, giving Stone a small nod. Both men stayed silent, letting Juliana take the lead.
Lowery inclined his head. “I always thought he was off, you know, a little not right in the head. He has dead eyes?—”
“What the fuck does that even mean?” Gregor interjected.
“Off enough to make you nervous,” Juliana continued, ignoring Gregor. “So, did he lull you into a sense of comfort first? Spend a few months chatting about his project or his move? Asked a few questions about your work?” She paused, then stepped to Stone’s side. He tried to move in front of her, keep himself between her and the guns, but the look she slid him had him stepping back.
“Or did he jump right in?” she asked. “That first time you met? Maybe he had a permit up for review he wanted help with?”
“A harmless request,” Lowery said. His voice taking on the quality of a man remembering the past. Juliana had been right to take this tactic.
“He asked me to ‘look into it’ for him,” Lowery said, then paused. To Stone’s right, Gregor shifted. All three guns now pointed at the floor rather than them, but none of the men looked as if they’d forgotten they held them.
“Then he asked me to see what I could do to push it through. When I said no, he reminded me of Iraq,” Lowery continued.
“That’s when it really started, isn’t it? The favors and the votes and your efforts to sway commissioners. He probably pushed for inside information, too, didn’t he?” Juliana said, her voice gentle. Lowery nodded, his gaze distant. “Then he started paying you. And you figured you were down the rabbit hole already, you may as well take the money,” Juliana concluded.
Lowery didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. His face said it all.
Pulling her gaze from the supervisor, she looked at him, silently asking if they had enough for Agent Parks to pursue the case and bring charges. Stone nodded.
“So what now?” Juliana asked. The file contained everything they knew as of that morning, but not the new information from Griswold. A detail none of the men, particularly Gregor, would forget.
Polinsky and Gregor shared a look that had the hairs on Stone’s neck standing on end. They had an agreement that Lowery wasn’t a part of. Griswold seemed to sense the same, and his shoulders tensed.
Lowery raised his weapon. Instantly, Polinsky and Gregor followed. Stone’s muscles went taut, but he resisted reaching for his own. He had no wish to call attention to either himself or Juliana. Especially not, when at the moment, the three men had their weapons pointed at each other.
Table of Contents
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