Keep Quiet(49)

“The End.” Deaner emitted a dry laugh.

“Where did you get that?” Jake asked, finding his voice. He had a million questions.

“None of your business.”

“Do you live in those apartments near Pike Road? Or do you work at the corporate center?”

“None of your business.”

“Who are you? What do you do?” Jake’s face felt hot and damp. He told himself to get a grip but couldn’t.

“I told you.”

“You lied. Why were you there that night? What were you doing?”

“Who said I was there?”

Jake recoiled, confused. “You said. You said you saw what happened.”

“I meant on the video.”

“So if you didn’t take the video or the photos, who did? How did you get them? Who gave them to you?”

“Also not your business.”

“How did you find me? Did you follow me that night? Was it from the license plate?”

“Now to my point, as you put it.” Deaner put the iPhone back into his pocket. “I’ll go to the police tomorrow unless you wire $250,000 to this account by eleven o’clock.”

“So you’re blackmailing me.” Jake felt the blood drain from his face. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t believe this was happening.

“Obviously.” Deaner slipped his hand into his other pocket and extracted a yellow Post-it packet, then tore one off the top and pressed it onto the glass tabletop. “This is the bank you wire it to.”

“You want me to wire blackmail money to a bank account?”

“It’s offshore, a numbered account. Not that hard to set up, interestingly. When I get the confirmation that the wire transfer went through, I’ll send you the video and pictures.”

Jake’s mind raced. He didn’t know how to react. He couldn’t process it fast enough. “You won’t go to the police.”

“Try me.”

“I’ll bring you down with me.” Jake knew the best defense was a good offense.

“No you won’t. You’ll have no credibility. You’ll only make it worse for your wife and son. Bigger news, bigger headlines. Scandal. Yikes.”

Jake’s stomach turned over. Deaner knew about Pam, too. He had no leverage, not a card to play. “How do I know that if I pay you, this is where it ends? Or that whoever took the video won’t want to get paid, too?”

“You don’t.”

“Plus it’s a digital file. You have other copies. How do I know you’ll give me all of them?”

“Again, you don’t. You don’t know anything.” Deaner shifted back his chair, getting ready to leave. “You only know what happens if I don’t get paid. A world of pain for your son.”

“But I can’t get that much money that fast.”

“We both know you can. You have the dough. Liquidate stocks in no time. Cash one of those client’s checks you must have lying around. You’re a financial planner, so plan some finances.” Deaner stood up and crossed to the door. “You have until eleven o’clock tomorrow.”

“I can’t do that.” Jake felt his blood pressure rise, pounding at his temples. “I’d never do that. I never have. It doesn’t work that way, anyway.”

“I don’t think you’re taking me seriously, Jake. Good-bye.” Deaner opened the door and said loudly, “Thanks so much for the meeting. I’ll be in touch.”

Jake watched him walk down the hall and nod good-bye to Amy, who got up from her chair and came over.

“Who was that guy?” she asked, blinking.

“A possible new client. I met him at Ryan’s game.”

“Did you sign him? Should I send him some papers and open up a file?”

“Not yet.”

“Don’t look so worried, Jake. You’ll reel him in, sooner or later. You always do.” Amy smiled under her headful of curls, and Jake could barely manage to smile back.

“Thanks.”

“Funny, I never would’ve pegged that guy for having money, and my paydar is pretty good.”

“Paydar?”

“Yeah. Like gaydar, only with dough. I can usually pick ’em, even when they dress down. But that guy fooled me.”

“Gotta get back to work.” Jake went back into his office, where he closed the door and hurried to his desk. He got online, went to the website for his bank, and signed in to check his accounts. Interest Checking, Savings, and Money Market, read the blue virtual folders, and he thought back to what Pam had said last night, about the financial disclosure required for her nomination.

It’s like doing your taxes, every quarter for the next five years!

Jake leaned over to get his messenger bag, tugged out the forms that Pam had given him, and flipped through them frantically. The questionnaire asked for the “sources and amounts of all income received during the calendar year preceding your nomination and for the current calendar year, including all salaries, fees, dividends, interest, gifts, rents, royalties, licensee’s fees…”

Jake couldn’t see any way around the questionnaire. Even if he wanted to pay the blackmail, he couldn’t take $250K out of their accounts without its showing, and if the money didn’t appear in another account, canceled check, or trade receipt, the FBI would find out. They would get caught. It would scuttle Pam’s nomination, if not send them both to jail.