college. Dad paid a fortune to cover my debts, and for treatment at a private clinic. He made it clear he would never bail me out again. I was desperate. Desperate enough to go to a loan shark."
"Leo?"
"He bought off my creditors. At forty percent interest. I lost that money, too, then owed him nearly double. Leo offered a deal. If I supplied payroll checks from the bank, he'd let me live." Peter shook his head. "Carla and I had been lovers for a year. Please understand, I didn't see any other option."
Still reeling at the extent of his lies, and the deadly consequences, she wrapped her arms around herself. "So you got Carla involved."
"Leo needed two of us on the inside." He groaned again. "I stole the checks from processing over a period of time. You're well aware that like most banks, we don't return checks, only statements. The processed checks are sent to storage. Nobody keeps track after that, unless a customer requests a copy. Even in the unlikely event a client requested that particular check out of thousands…" he shrugged. "Banks are notorious for misplacing paperwork. We'd send them a copy from the microfiche, end of problem. I talked Carla into helping me."
Tessa hugged herself tighter as realization dawned. "Carla used the ATM for the drop, didn't she? The constant repair calls were a front. The 'repair service' picked up the checks, right?"
Peter's eyes widened. "How do you know that?"
"It makes perfect sense. It's the only way you could smuggle the checks off the premises without suspicion or risk. And it explains the 'unfixable' problem with that particular machine, and the constant service calls."
"You're right. I'd slip the checks into a money bag for Carla to retrieve during the cash count. She'd hide the checks inside the ATM when she filled the machine with cash. Drumm's guy who worked the repair service, the same contractor Leo used for his club, would transfer them to the ATM at the Blue Moon." Peter halted outside the bathroom door and cocked his head.
Had Gabe made a noise? The last thing they needed was a confrontation. She hurried over to Peter. "But the day I took Carla's place blew your scheme."
Raking his fingers through his sandy hair, Peter stumbled into the kitchen. "Carla tried to contact me, but was too late. You found the checks." He slumped against the counter. "Drumm told Carla to phone in her resignation, that he'd take care of her. Then she disappeared. He told me he'd hidden her until everything blew over. I had my doubts, but I wanted to believe she was okay. I hung around Leo's club hoping for some word. When I saw you there, I knew they'd gotten to you." Peter began to tremble violently.
Torn between anger and sympathy, she marched to the sink and filled a glass with water. She handed the water to her friend. A friend who had turned out to be a man she didn't know at all. "How could you let this go so far?"
"I never dreamed it would turn deadly. It's too late for me, but not for you. I'm going to the police. I can't bear another death on my conscience. I've never trusted Leo. Hell, I would have been an even bigger fool if I had. I stashed evidence in my safe-deposit box at the bank. If I die, the court can open the box." He transferred the water to his left hand, fumbled a safe-deposit box key from his pocket. His fingers shook as he held it out. "This is an extra key. Even if they put me in witness protection, I doubt I'll live to testify. If something happens to me, turn it in anonymously."
She reached for the key. "Peter, I—"
Gabe stepped out of hiding. "Don't go to the police. I can help you."
* * *
Chapter 15
« ^ »
Peter blanched dead white. He whirled. The glass crashed to the floor.
Gabe held up his hands. "Remember me, Tessa's cousin Val? I can help you. I guarantee you won't get killed, or serve time. I have connections. Tell him, Tessa."
She nodded. "He'll do what he says. You can trust him."
Peter shook his head. "I don't know…"
"Look, you were going to the cops anyway." Gabe's voice was pitched low, soothing. "You said yourself you might end up in prison, or dead. What have you got to lose?"
"Who are you? Who do you work for?"
"That's not important. I can get your butt out of the sling.