Chapter 3: Milwaukee

-- OCTOBER (9 MONTHS AGO), MONTAUK, NEW YORK --

"They're calling it 'The Heist of the Millennium'. In an unprecedented theft, believed to be the largest single monetary robbery in history, top executives at internationally renowned Jonathan Kwong Enterprises have stolen a reported 4.2 billion dollars from the company. CNN reporter Michael Phillips has the story..."

"Good evening, I'm Katie Couric and this is the CBS Evening News. Overnight, he went from ordinary worker on Wall Street to one of the wealthiest and most famous men in America. Tonight, we'll tell you the incredible story of Jonathan Kwong's rise to power, and how it might all come crashing down..."

"But we at Celebrity Sightings have the juicy details. Our sources confirm that Jada Sharpley, the daughter of suspected executive Robert Sharpley, has been employed as a nanny to the family's children for the past several months. Recently released photos of the Kwongs out about town reveal how intimately involved Miss Sharpley was with the family, for example here as the children played in Central Park and here as Taylor and Ashlyn shopped on Park Avenue with their babies. Our sources also now confirm that Miss Sharpley is one of the missing — and presumed 'on the run' — suspects..."

"Welcome to World News with Charles Gibson. In a theft that by far has topped the record of one billion dollars removed from the Central Bank of Baghdad, reports indicate that over four billion dollars were liquidated from more than a dozen escrow accounts held in trust by Jonathan Kwong Enterprises. The money was transferred out by top executives of the company and hidden in banks unknown. And the men responsible have disappeared. The FBI is now involved in the hunt..."

"Details on the exact nature of the transaction are still unknown. But with the purchase price reportedly paid to Daniel Hollister, and the assets already sold off, Jonathan Kwong Enterprises is an extremely precarious position, now holding a negative net worth. Rachel Tamarack. MSNBC."

"Is the Prince of New York a pauper once again? Jonathan Kwong is no stranger to our headlines. He first made waves when he was revealed to be the unknown inheritor of Jonathan Kendall's estate nearly five years ago. His whirlwind romance with supermodel Taylor Brynn, along with a whole variety of suspected affairs with various other women throughout their courtship, made him front-page fodder for the tabloids. And he threw the entire New York social scene off its axis little more than a year ago, when it was announced that he was both dating and had impregnated another supermodel, Ashlyn Scott, while still married to his current wife. Since then, the Kwong family has operated under the radar. But now, the intense media spotlight of this financial scandal threatens to put Jonathan's entire lifestyle right back under the microscope. Already there are rumors swirling around Jada Sharpley's role within the family, including suggestions of an affair between the wealthy billionaire and the young daughter of one of his top executives. Indeed, our sources say that-"

"Computer: TV OFF!" I barked harshly.

The screen in the family room obediently shut down. Ashlyn blanched, dropped the television remote onto the couch, and looked up at me as I scowled at her. But then a whimper from the ground caught my attention and I forced myself not to have such an ugly face.

"I'm sorry, Joey," I said soothingly, sinking to my knees and opening my arms. My baby girl pushed herself up onto unsteady feet and toddled over to me, collapsing against my chest at the last moment. As I stroked her hair, I added, "Daddy didn't mean to yell."

"It's everywhere," Ashlyn breathed. "Every news channel. Even MTV."

"Well, children aren't supposed to be watching TV before 2 years. Right?"

Ashlyn shrugged and stooped down to reach for Joey. The little girl returned to her mother as I stood back up.

"JJ?" I queried.

"In his room with Taylor and Evelyn. He's got a bad rash now."

I sighed. "Call the doc, okay?"

"Taylor says it's nothing."

I shook my head. "Just call him. Better safe than sorry." And then I turned to walk out of the room.

Ashlyn called behind me. "House calls aren't cheap, Johnny."

I froze in place at her words. My eyebrows furrowed, and slowly, I turned back around. Never before had Ashlyn ever mentioned money around me, not like this. Quite simply, money had never been an issue.

"'House calls aren't cheap'?" I asked incredulously, turning around with a deeply annoyed expression on my face.

She paled. "I just mean ... with this whole situation ... I mean, I'm sure money isn't a problem. But you said that this kind of theft could be crippling. I mean ... uh. Don't you think it's safer not to spend on some things unless you really, uh ... Well, how ARE your finances now that... ? Oh, shit."

"WE'RE FINE," I thundered. Joey quailed again, and I forced myself to calm down once again. Ashlyn held her tightly, and as I gathered myself, I stated in a quieter voice, "We're fine. This is a big hit. No question. But we're not insolvent yet or anything. We're fine."

"But didn't you have to take out loans to pay Hollister in the first place? How are you going to pay them back now?"

"Financing the payment instead of paying cash was a sound business decision, not because I couldn't per se," I stated without real conviction. "There's spreading out of risk, for precisely this reason. More to the point, that's why they're called loans. I've got time to pay them back. Long enough to track down my money."

"But if you don't? If you can't recover it? Where does that leave us?"

Bankrupt. I'd be bankrupt. Everything I'd earned, everything Jonathan Kendall had given me, I'd have lost. Well, maybe not everything. I DID have other assets, after all. But it would be enough to completely destroy the way of life I'd led up until this point. I closed my eyes and sighed. If we didn't recover anything, I'd probably have to sell the house. I'd have to move my family someplace smaller. I wouldn't be able to keep Taylor in the lifestyle to which she'd become accustomed. Would Ashlyn even stay with me?

I'd find the money. I'd find Sharpley and Matthews. I HAD to.

"Jonathan!"

Cassandra's shout pulled my attention immediately, and I turned to look for her. She ran up, caution in her sky blue eyes. And with a grimace, she announced, "There's been a development about Jada Sharpley."

Cassandra sat in her chair in the home office, rapidly typing commands into the computer. I stood behind her, looking over her shoulder as several windows began to pop up on screen.

"I just got off the phone with Special Agent Farnsworth," she stated without turning around to me.

I nodded, remembering the lead FBI agent put in charge of the investigation. For the most part, he had tried to keep us out of the loop, explaining that the Bureau would handle everything. But Cassandra had proven to have a stronger willpower than he, demanding access and regular updates. That plus a call from me to a Senator friend had provided the necessary leverage to make sure we were kept informed. "You mentioned a 'development'."

Cassandra nodded and pulled up a photo of a comely blonde. The girl looked late teens, and posed prettily with a few friends in front of the Eiffel Tower. I didn't recognize her.

"Who's this?" I asked.

"Jada Sharpley," Cassandra stated through gritted teeth.

"Excuse me?"

Cassandra sighed. "The REAL Jada Sharpley. Here's what I've been able to find in the last hour or so. Bob Sharpley told you the truth about one thing: his daughter Jada had become disillusioned with school and dropped out of NYU. But that's it. The real Jada packed up and decided to live a bohemian life in France. She's been there all this time, completely unaware of what's going on."

"WHAT?" I barked incredulously.

More photos popped up on screen. "These are just the pictures from her Facebook page. As soon as Jada was declared a person of interest, the FBI put out a bulletin on her with Interpol. French police immediately got a hit on her, as she'd rented an apartment in Montparnasse and opened a bank account with BNP Paribas. They went to arrest her, and found out she wasn't the same girl we're looking for."

My hands went to my forehead, and I blinked rapidly. "So ... if THAT's Jada ... then who the fuck was living with us all that time?"

Only now did Cassandra look up at me. "I don't know. But you remember Maureen? The nanny we had before Jada?"

Ah, SHIT. The light bulb went off in my head. "The nanny you caught trying to steal financial records out of this very office!"

Cassandra nodded. "We've got an employment history on her. She used to work security for one of Sharpley's previous companies. My guess is that he sent her in here to set up his theft, only she got caught."

I paled as my previous suspicions seemed to be confirmed. "So Bob tried again, this time with a girl posing as his daughter. She meant to seduce me. She meant to get me off my guard. She meant to earn my trust. All so she could help him rip me off."

Wincing, Cassandra just pinched her lips and nodded.

Turning my head away, I reached out and punched the wall. "FUCK!"

My eyeballs burned from staring at the monitor for too long. My calves ached, just from the nervous twitch that had my legs bouncing for the past several hours straight. And my neck was sore. I didn't even know it was sore until Cassandra stepped behind me and started rubbing it, pushing her strong thumbs right into the base of my head where it met my spine.

"Owwww-aaaauuughhh..." My complaint had turned into a sigh of pleasure as her magic fingers went to work.

She chuckled, the most positive sound either of us had made all day. "Figured you were due."

"Thanks. But you don't have to do that."

"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for me," Cassandra replied casually. "I'd been sitting in that chair for so long that my back was stiff. I needed to get up and do something other than looking over transactional data."

I squeezed my eyes shut and dropped my elbows onto the desk so that I could hold my head in my hands as my assistant continued her neck rub. "Ugh ... You don't have to do that, either. You should take a break."

"Are you going to take a break?" she asked before grabbing my head and rotating it to the side. On a tray was my dinner, prime rib, potatoes, and steamed vegetables. It had lain there untouched for the past hour, and by now was quite cold.

I grimaced and put my forehead back in my hands. "I'm not hungry."

"Jonathan, you need to eat something."

"Not until we find something."

"You have to eat eventually."

"And I will. Just not now," I stated stubbornly.

Cassandra sighed and started working on my shoulders. I let her do her thing for another minute, and then I patted her hands and sat up straight in a signal for her to stop. And then I grabbed the mouse and returned to focusing on my screen.

The two of us had been holed up in the home office for the entire day. Without a lead on where Sharpley and Matthews had hidden the money, I'd turned to combing their past transactional history. It was a simple matter of habit. Lots of financial wizards got used to running their business through the same international banks. Escrow accounts were commonly held with certain companies. Wire transfers regularly went from Bank A to Bank B to reside at Bank C, etc. Someone knew someone else who offered X benefits or Y kickbacks or Z anonymity. If Bank A suddenly dropped their loan rates or invested more or otherwise indicated that they had a lot more money in the vault than usual, we could start drilling down from there. Maybe it would be coincidence, maybe not. It's not like each bank would make public record they'd just received a couple hundred million extra to stash. But maybe a strategically placed call to a high-ranking executive would help illuminate the situation.

Maybe.

There were millions of banks. It was like a bigass shell game, peeking underneath each one to see if they had some of my money tucked away. Tracing them all was slow and time-consuming, but it was one way of trying to DO something about the situation. I wasn't about to just sit back and leave everything to the FBI.

Of course, Sharpley and Matthews might have suspected we'd trace them through their past transactions, so they'd probably used completely new ones. Then, it was a matter of eliminating their most commonly used companies and trying to outsmart them.

Four billion dollars doesn't just disappear. It HAS to go somewhere, and my best financial gurus at JKE were on the case. They were in the same boat I was; if we didn't find the money, all those people would be out of a job.

But finding it wouldn't be THAT easy.

Cassandra had tried to re-start my neck rub several times, but I just batted her hands away and insisted, "I'm fine." She then went around to the other side of the desk. Like always, she sat in the main chair in front of the main screen. I was working on a notebook computer with a spare monitor across from her. But when I saw the haggard look on her face, I shook my head and stated, "You should take a break."

She scowled at me and stated, "I will when you do."

I looked at the clock. "It's after 10pm. You've done enough for tonight."

"So have you."

"I'm not done yet. I think I'm onto something with this Aragon Holdings Corp."

"Then I'm not quitting, either."

"Cassandra, you need your sleep. I need you at peak functioning ability."

"Are you even listening to yourself? You've been working just as much as I have, and between the two of us, I'm the one who's actually used to it. Don't you think you need to be at your peak?"

"I'm fine," I replied coldly and with full conviction. "I won't rest until I find the bastards that did this to me."

"'I won't rest' is a figure of speech. It means you're not going to let it go, which is just fine. But you need to actually rest. Like you said, it's after 10."

As if on cue, the door swung open. Taylor stood there, wearing a warm house robe. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

"Not now, Taylor," I waved her off, not even looking over at my wife.

"Johnny..."

"The kids?" I asked, interrupting.

"They're fine. They're asleep."

"How's JJ's rash?"

"The doctor says it's hives, allergic to something. He's not sure what just yet, but he prescribed some medicine and said that JJ will be fine in a couple of days."

"Good." I went back to typing and clicking.

Taylor sighed, but didn't leave. I assume she was making some eye contact with Cassandra, and a few seconds later, I felt my wife come up behind me. Her hands took over massaging my shoulders, and she leaned down to whisper into my ear. "Come to bed, honey. Let me relax you."

"I need to work," I replied without turning around.

"I'll make it worth your while," she purred, and then I felt the tip of her tongue touch my ear.

Like I was shooing away a buzzing fly, I raised my hand and waved her away without turning my head. Aragon Holdings had lowered their internal bank-loan rate by a full point, a clear sign that they were flush with cash and looking to add more loans. Aragon was California-based, which meant it was just after 7pm. While the bank itself would be closed, it wasn't too late to call one of the executives.

"Johnny, please come to bed," Taylor whimpered. "I need you tonight. After everything that's gone on, I can't go to bed until I feel your arms around me. Come cuddle me, at least until I fall asleep. Then if you really want, you can come back down here and go to work. Please?"

I sighed, finally breaking my gaze from the monitor. I could ignore suggestions that it was good for my health to take a break. It was much harder to ignore the woman I loved asking me for a simple cuddle. "Just give me thirty minutes, and I promise I'll come."

As the Sun is wont to do, it climbed higher and higher into the heavens as the morning progressed. At some point, it climbed high enough to get just the right angle through the Eastward facing windows, and found just the right gap between the closed drapes to cast an intense ray of light right onto my face.

I rather didn't like it.

Grimacing, I winced at the unwanted illumination. Instinctively, I turned my head to get away from it, to no avail. Finally, while pinching my left eyelid shut, I cracked my right eye open to figure out where the hell I was.

My office. Of course.

Blinking slowly, I got my bearings and found that I was sprawled out across the couch. My head was on one of the pillows, and someone had covered me with a blanket. My whole body ached. My muscles were stiff. And gingerly, I levered myself up to a seated position.

I took a deep breath and then bent forward. Getting my feet onto the floor, I planted my elbows atop my knees and then held my head in my hands, muttering grumpily. The room was dark save for the beam of light coming through the curtains. But as I stood up, a built-in motion sensor detected me and flicked on recessed ambient lights, not enough to really illuminate the room, but enough to make sure I wouldn't bump into anything.

I stood and stretched, rolling my head around before reaching up to massage the cricks in my neck. And I was just about to head for the door when it opened from the outside.

"Johnny?" Ashlyn poked her head in. Her hair was back in its casual ponytail, and she wore a pastel green shirt and light khaki capris.

I groaned and nodded, checking the clock. It was after 10am. I wasn't sure what time I'd fallen asleep, but I'd certainly slept in. "Perfect timing."

She pointed up at the lights. "The motion sensors. Cassandra had the computer tell us when you woke up."

"Ah." I rubbed my head. Only then did I remember the promise I'd made my wife last night. "Shit! Taylor!"

Ashlyn nodded her head, a sympathetic expression on her face. "Yeah, she's kinda grumpy. When you didn't show up last night, she came over to my room to cuddle."

"Sorry."

"No need to apologize to me. I was happy for the company, especially at a time like this." Ashlyn grimaced, remembering my previous outburst when she'd questioned our financial stability. "Not that a time like this is really bad or anything ... I mean, I know that we're not in ... That is ... I'm ... sure you guys are handling this."

"We are," I stated reassuringly. "Everything's going to be fine."

Ashlyn nodded, clearly trying to make herself believe, but just as clearly still concerned. I'm sure it didn't help that every newsrag and TV show was proclaiming that this was the end of the world for me, that my magical run had finally come to an end and my carriage would turn back into a pumpkin.

Just then, a knock sounded at the open door. Olivia, a young blonde maid, stood there with a tray of food. "Breakfast, sir?"

"Mmm ... smells great." I inhaled, taking in the aroma. I thought I smelled maple syrup, and either french toast or pancakes. Dorothy was excellent at both. I gestured to the big desk.

Ashlyn frowned and furrowed her eyebrows. "Don't you want to come eat with us in the dining room? I know it's late for breakfast, but I wouldn't mind an early lunch. And the kids are due for their 11 o'clock soon."

I shook my head and moved to the desk, sliding the notebook computer aside to clear room for Olivia's tray. "I'm staying right here. There's a lot more work that needs to be done."

"Cassandra's already on it," Ashlyn argued. "She's been up with the JKE analysts since 8am and right now, she's talking to Agent ... uh ... Fro ... gurt..."

I chuckled. "Farnsworth."

"Right."

I shook my head. "Doesn't matter. I told you everything will be fine, but it won't be fine until I fix this."

"Johnny, please. You owe Taylor for not showing up last night."

I shook my head. "I'm not leaving until this is done."

Ashlyn exhaled and rolled her eyes. Realizing she was talking to a brick wall, she just shook her head and stormed out the door.

I scowled at her retreating back. You'd have thought she'd be more appreciative of how hard I was working to make sure she could continue living this extravagant lifestyle.

"Can I do anything else for you, sir?"

I turned back to the desk. Olivia, a very attractive young blonde, stood at attention in her black and white maid's outfit. Like a lot of our staff, maids were extra eye-candy around the house. I often stared at her and some of the other girls, as I was wont to do with any pretty girl in my house. But I wasn't going to do anything about it.

After the Brittany incident, Cassandra had been going out of her way to find eye- candy that wouldn't fool around. The world was full of pretty girls that weren't the flirty-types, who had boyfriends or otherwise were just smart enough not to mess up a high-paying job by trying to compete for attention from a billionaire with a supermodel wife and girlfriend. Since instituting the new policy, not one of the maids had hit on me, and Olivia was no exception. She was pretty, but that was just a line we wouldn't be crossing.

So I simply shook my head. "No, that will be all."

Olivia bowed her head respectfully. But just before leaving, she approached me, touched my arm, and said warmly, "You'll figure it out, I know you will. Everything will be fine." And then nodding assuredly, the maid turned and left.

I mused on that for a moment, for some reason actually feeling better because of Olivia's vote of confidence. I needed it, after Ashlyn's skepticism.

Alone once again, I sat down at the desk and lifted the lid covering the tray. A steaming plate of french toast, eggs, and hash browns greeted me, along with juice and coffee. I took a sip of the coffee. And as I picked up a fork, I also lifted the clamshell lid of the notebook computer. Soon enough, the login screen arrived, and I started typing in my password with my left hand. But I got it wrong on the first try, so setting the fork back down, I re-typed my password with both hands.

And that was as close as I got to eating breakfast.

I did eventually eat something. Even though I didn't really want to break from working, my stomach was just grumbling too loudly for me to ignore. I don't even remember what I ate. It's not important. The french toast got tossed out and something made its way into my belly so that I could keep working.

Cassandra came back after getting off the phone with Agent Farnsworth. She briefed me on the progress, which was that there was no progress. And then she took her spot opposite me to continue tracking down leads as well.

I finally gave up just after 9pm. Taylor arrived with maids holding pillows and blankets behind her. My wife was fully ready to sleep on the couch with me if that's what it took. Instead, I caved and shut down the computer.

I let her lead me upstairs and shove me into the shower. I really needed it, as I hadn't taken one in the past two days. And Taylor welcomed me into bed with open arms and a slinky negligee.

But I was way too tired for sex. I told her this, but my wife seemed determined. She tried blowing me for almost twenty minutes, but every time I got a semi-hard, I would soften after ten seconds outside of her mouth. I believe Taylor whined and complained after that, but I was already fading into unconsciousness.

Just another day.

Cassandra stood politely when Edward escorted the two gentlemen in black suits into the living room. I, on the other hand, was exhausted from my restless night; so I remained seated on the sofa.

After shaking hands with Cassandra, they came to me anyways. Special Agent Farnsworth re-introduced himself. I told him I remembered him from his first visit. Same with his associate, Agent Reddick.

Olivia stopped by with a tray of coffee. The maid smiled encouragingly at me, and for a moment, I felt buoyed from the dragging weight of the past several days by her innocent smile. But then it was back to business.

"So what brings you here, Barry?" Cassandra asked in a friendly voice that momentarily drew my attention.

I arched an eyebrow at my assistant and asked with my eyes, 'Barry'? Since when was she on a first-name basis with the agent?

Agent Farnsworth merely sighed, "I thought I needed to come say this in person. I'm sorry, Miss Cooper. I promised you both I'd have answers within 72 hours. Well that time has now passed, and we're no closer to tracking the suspects than we were three days ago."

My heart sank. Cassandra, the JKE analysts, and I had run into nothing but dead ends ourselves. I had been hoping the FBI would have significantly better luck than us.

Farnsworth then spread out a dossier, and even upside-down, I quickly read off the numbers of JKE's liquidated escrow accounts. The Agent proceeded to give us a brief rundown of his team's efforts to trace the money. Unlike us, the FBI had access to many of the banks' asset records, making them better able to analyze and eliminate potential transfer points. But that advantage had not gotten them any better results.

"It's the best wire job I've ever even heard of, let alone seen," he finished with a tone of regret.

I sighed. "I hired the best." And the best had betrayed me.

"So where do we go from here?" Cassandra asked pointedly. "Surely the FBI isn't just going to give up."

"Of course not. Four billion dollars has left the U.S. Economy, and I can assure you the government is not happy about it."

"Then what is your plan?"

Farnsworth took a deep breath. "We don't seem to have expertise enough to track the wire transfers. The suspects have simply covered themselves too well. I'm now directing our agents to focus on locating the fugitives themselves. We'll be in touch with family, friends, and other known associates. Hopefully, once we find them, they'll lead us to the money."

Cassandra nodded, but then I sat up straight. "We'll let you guys do that," I conceded. "But why don't you let us track the wire transfers."

Farnsworth furrowed his eyebrows. "As I understood it, you and your analysts were already doing that."

"Through commercial means." I pointed at the dossier. "You just explained the way your guys were tracing them, using some decidedly more effective tools."

Agent Reddick blanched. "You want us to give you FBI access?"

I nodded. "Like you guys said, you don't have the expertise to uncover Sharpley's and Matthews' tracks. We do. My analysts worked side-by-side with those two men for years. I hired the best. But we don't have access to bank private records. We don't have the Federal Reserve's tracking algorithms. Give us those, and my guys will find the money."

"Absolutely not," Reddick stated flatly. "There is a reason that kind of access is restricted. For Jonathan Kwong Enterprises to have it would be a major SEC violation. It would be a completely unfair business advantage."

"There won't BE a Jonathan Kwong Enterprises if this money isn't found. And my team wouldn't be using your access to gain a competitive advantage."

"Yeah, right," Reddick spat skeptically.

"Not intentionally, of course," Cassandra interrupted. "But we understand the risk."

"Surely there is SOME way we could make this work," I argued. "Somebody we can talk to at the SEC?"

"Perhaps..." Farnsworth mused quietly. His eyebrows were furrowed again, and he was staring off at nothing. We all went quiet, letting him think for a moment. And then he looked up at me. "But you're not going to like it."

I regarded the agent evenly. "Try me. Can't be any worse than having four billion dollars go missing."

He sighed. "One-year sanction for JKE. That's the penalty for hacking into the internal system as it stands. We'll give you access, but then you can't do business in the United States for one year. That way, even if you gain a competitive advantage, you can't do anything about it anyways."

Cassandra gasped, covering her mouth.

I just shrugged. "Done."

"Jonathan!" Cassandra looked at me in alarm. Shutting down the company for a whole year?

"We need to find the money. Otherwise the company'll go belly up anyways."

"But Jonathan! A year's sanction? That would mean laying off a lot of your employees."

I shook my head. "Some, maybe. We wouldn't even have to. The sanctions would only apply to the U.S. We still can do a lot internationally. Freeze everyone's salary for a year, and we'll weather the storm. Re-allocate everyone to work on other projects. No layoffs. We can make it work."