Chapter Twenty-five
Jake clicked through the Gardenia Trust spreadsheet on his computer, trying to figure out how to get the money from company or client funds, but he couldn’t find a way. The check in the safe couldn’t be used because it was made out to Gardenia, and even as the company’s principal and sole owner, he couldn’t cash it or deposit it into his own account. It could only be deposited into Gardenia’s holding account, and from there, it couldn’t be wired to any personal account, much less offshore. Gardenia’s bank, Pennsylvania National Bank, would simply refuse to do it, because it would run afoul of FDIC regulations, which was only one of the layers of rules and regulations. Gardenia was also a state-chartered trust company, so they were also governed by FNRA and the SEC, because they were also an RIA, an alphabet soup of laws.
Jake rubbed his face, trying to understand his position. He couldn’t use his personal funds because the FBI would see, and he couldn’t use Gardenia money because he couldn’t get it. The problem was that the FBI would be able to see the balances in any existing accounts, but that gave him an idea, because it meant that they couldn’t see the balances in any accounts that didn’t exist right now.
Jake reached for his phone and scrolled down to Harold Ackerman, his banker at Pennsylvania National, in charge of all of Jake’s personal accounts, as well as Gardenia business accounts. He pressed in the number and Harold picked it up after the first ring. “Harold, I need a favor. Confidentially.”
“You got it. How can I help?”
“I need a personal line of credit for $250 grand to be opened today.”
“No problem, Jake. You have the balances to back that up. You want it in your name, or yours and Pam’s?”
“Just mine, and I need it wired to an offshore account by eleven o’clock tomorrow morning, at the absolute latest.” Jake knew it would be an unusual request, but he also knew that Harold wouldn’t ask any questions. Anybody who dealt regularly with high-net-worth individuals knew that they had expensive secrets like gambling debts, mistresses in fancy apartments, and the occasional cocaine habit. Jake hated the thought that Harold would believe one of those things were true about him, but his reputation didn’t mean more to him than Ryan’s life.
“I can do that. A wire transfer takes fifteen minutes, if I set it up now. The money’s not the problem, the paperwork is. You know how it goes.”
“Tell me about it.” Jake understood. It would’ve sounded topsy-turvy to anybody who didn’t know how banking worked, but he knew better. Harold could put his hand on $250,000 faster than he could get the stack of forms through the bank bureaucracy.
“I’ll set it up, and get it out first thing tomorrow morning. Wire room’s open at nine. It’ll be done by nine fifteen.”
“Okay. Thanks much.” Jake pressed END, relieved. It was a good plan and he thought it would work, at least in the short run. Since the personal line of credit didn’t exist until now, it wouldn’t show on his and Pam’s current bank statement, which they would be disclosing to the FBI. Jake would have to replace it by their next quarterly tax return, but he could do that with some gains from stock dividends or other trading. It would take fancy footwork, but he wasn’t a financial planner for nothing.
Jake’s phone started ringing in his hand, and he looked at the screen. It showed a picture of Pam again, the photo taken on Myrtle Beach, in happier times. He picked up and pressed ANSWER. “Hi, honey. You forget something?”
“I’m worried.” Pam sounded tense. “I thought you told me that Ryan went to Western Civ today.”
“He did.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“How do you know that?” Jake asked, dismayed.
“I checked the Parent Portal.”
Jake cursed the Parent Portal, which was an online program by which Concord Chase parents could log in and check on their kids’ daily assignments, tests and paper grades. Pam checked it as often as she checked their bank balances or her carbohydrate count.
“Jake, he was absent from class. He missed his test.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. The Portal doesn’t lie.”
“It could be a mistake.”
“No it couldn’t. The information comes from the teachers themselves. Mr. Nelson even made a note on the Portal that Ryan has to contact him to schedule a makeup exam.”
“Mr. Nelson might’ve made a mistake.” Jake knew it was lame the minute he said it. He couldn’t think of something better to say. It was exhausting, all this lying, putting out fires.
“Jake, come on. If Ryan’s not in class, you notice. He could be really sick.” Pam’s voice sounded thin with anxiety. “I called the school nurse, but she’s at another school on Mondays. I called the office, but they don’t answer after four o’clock.”
“Don’t get all worked up, honey.” Jake logged out of the Gardenia accounts and cleared his Internet history, just in case. “Did he go to the class after Western Civ?”
“He doesn’t have class after that. He has Study Hall, last period of the day on Monday.”
Jake didn’t know Ryan’s class schedule, but Pam had it memorized, every year. “I’m sure he’s fine.”
“Don’t minimize it, Jake. He could be really sick.”
“I’m not minimizing it,” Jake said, though that was exactly what he was doing. “He’s not a hundred percent, but I’m sure he’s fine. He was fine when I left him.”
“How do you know that? You didn’t feel his forehead, did you?”
“No, but he looked fine.” Jake got up from his desk and went to get his coat from the back of the door. He had to find Ryan, either at practice or at home, and see what happened.
“How he looks doesn’t mean anything. You’re taking this too lightly. You never think anything can go wrong, but it can.”
“I’m not taking it lightly.” Jake couldn’t believe the irony. No one knew better than he that things could go wrong. He opened his office door and hurried into the hallway.
“I called his phone again but he still doesn’t answer, and I know he usually checks it after school, before practice. That means he didn’t return my first phone call.”
“He told me he broke his phone, I should have mentioned that.” Jake looked around but Amy wasn’t at her desk. He didn’t leave her a note because he didn’t want her to blow his cover again.
“I assume he went to practice. But what’s he up to? It’s not like him to cut class. If he’s not sick, something went wrong with your plan.”
“I understand, and I’ll take it up with him as soon as I get home.” Jake hurried down the hall toward reception.
“Good. I’m not going to be home ’til ten or so, maybe later, but you should be the one to get to the bottom of this, anyway.”
“I agree. I’ll take care of it.”
“Jake, remember, if he’s not sick, he lied to you. You have to call him out on that, even though you’re Fun Dad.”
Jake couldn’t remember ever wanting to be Fun Dad, much less having any fun. He passed Debbie and he pointed to his phone, so he had an excuse for not telling her where he was going. “Got it. Don’t worry about it. Good luck with your meeting, and I’ll see you when you get home.”
“Text me and let me know how he is.”
“I will. Love you.” Jake flew out of the office, bypassing the elevator and jogging toward the stairwell.
“Love you, too. See you later. Bye.”
“Bye.” Jake hung up on the fly, banging through the exit doors, off to go find his son.