Fatal Fraud - Marie Force Page 0,67

investigation.

Unlike most of the offices they visited, this one was mostly studios with glass fronts facing a main corridor. People were working inside several of the studios they passed on their way to Townsend’s office, which was down another corridor. The receptionist gestured for them to go in.

“Thank you,” Freddie said to her as he went by, always polite, even when trying to be mean and nasty.

Sam figured Townsend to be in his mid-fifties. He had salt-and-pepper hair and a harried way about him, as if he had more to do than he could possibly squeeze into his awake hours. She knew what that was like.

They showed their badges.

“Lieutenant Holland, Detective Cruz, Metro PD,” she said.

He sat back in his chair, eyeing her with the curiosity she’d come to expect since Nick became VP—especially from men. They probably wondered why the VP “allowed” his wife to run around without a detail, solving murders. If only they knew no one “allowed” her to do anything. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re investigating Ginny McLeod’s murder,” Sam said.

“I’m surprised anyone is wasting time or resources on her. Trust me when I tell you, she wasn’t worth it.”

“We’ve heard that from a few people, but our job is to get justice for her whether she deserves it or not.”

“What about justice for the people she defrauded?” Bitterness dripped from his every word. “When do we get justice?”

“How did you know Ginny?”

“I went to high school with Ken. We’ve been friends since then. Or we were until his wife decided to put her mark on me. Do you have any idea how hard I’ve worked to build this business? To build a life for my wife and kids? I was five years from retirement, and now…” He shrugged. “I was going to turn the business over to my oldest son, but now I’ll have to sell to have any chance of ever retiring. That’s what she took from me. The legacy I’d hoped to leave my children.”

“How much did you invest with her?”

“Three quarters of a million.”

Sam held back a gasp. Yes, Ginny had been sinister in her plot, but her victims had been somewhat easily led to give up that kind of money for something that might or might not pay off.

“I can tell you’re wondering what kind of fool invests that kind of money in something like this, but you had to know Ginny to fully appreciate how she managed to pull this off. She was very convincing that this was the opportunity of a lifetime, the chance to double my money without having to lift a finger. I kept thinking it was too good to be true, but for every question I had, she had an answer. My wife and I did our due diligence. We talked to other investors Ginny worked with who’d seen amazing results, or at least they said they had.”

“Do you recall who the people were who attested to her investment success?”

“I gave all that info to the IRS as part of their investigation, but it didn’t lead anywhere. The names were fake, the stories were fake. It was all fake, except for the fact that she took our money, and now it’s gone. That’s very real.” He paused and then glanced at her. “Have you spoken to Tina Goss?”

“We haven’t heard her name,” Sam said, glancing at Freddie for confirmation.

He shook his head.

“Who is she?” Sam asked.

“Her husband, Jack, was one of the investors. He took his own life after Ginny’s scheme was uncovered. You should talk to Tina.” Townsend seemed to think better of giving her the info. “I don’t know why I’m helping you. I don’t care who killed Ginny. The person who killed her did us all a favor getting rid of her, except now, of course, we’ll never know if she stashed the money somewhere.”

“Where were you on Sunday afternoon?”

The question seemed to shock him. “You aren’t asking if I killed her, are you?”

“I’m asking where you were on Sunday afternoon.”

“I was right here, Lieutenant. Working, like I do seven days a week, because I don’t have time to waste if I want to try to earn back some of what I lost. I work every day.”

“Was anyone else here with you?”

“One of my sound engineers was here.”

“Could we please speak to him or her?”

Though he was clearly pissed, he picked up his desk phone, made a call, asked the sound engineer to come to his office.

After a few uncomfortably quiet minutes,

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