Page 4 of Renegade

Then again, these were the corporate accounts.

Judy had also located an insurance policy that Mr. Flores had taken out on a great deal of very expensive jewelry, including a very rare pigeon’s blood ruby, which was insured for upward of two million dollars alone. That stone was seven carats but only half an inch across in a deep raspberry coloring, set in a platinum pendant, surrounded by large diamonds. Judy showed me several photographs of Mrs. Flores wearing the pendant at charity functions over the last six months. Judging by the photos Judy attained, Mrs. Flores was a beautiful, young woman, half her husband’s age of fifty, and the moment I saw her, I smelled a rat. I was pretty good at sussing out fraud after many years in the recovery business, and when I showed Miguel what Judy had found, he agreed.

“What other assets does she have?” Miguel asked, bending over my desk to look at the photos of the couple on the monitor.

I tapped on my keyboard. “I found multiple joint bank accounts, adding up to about a million dollars in all.”

He nodded. “Where’s the rest of it?”

I looked up at him, reading the skepticism on his face. “There has to be more, right?”

Miguel chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course there is. The guy owns—owned—fucking casinos and card rooms, Sunshine. So, where’s all the money?”

“Right here.” Judy walked into the office with her iPad and put it down on my desk. “He’s got over fifty million in an offshore investment account.”

Miguel whistled, smiling at Judy. “Now we’re talking.”

“Who’s the beneficiary?” I asked, sliding the iPad toward me. “The wife?”

Judy nodded. “Well, it’s being held in trust to be paid out to her in time.”

I frowned. “How much time?”

“When she turns thirty,” Judy replied.

“That’s five years from now,” I said, not overly surprised that she didn’t want to wait for a big payday. I glanced up at Miguel to see him smiling. “Boyfriend,” we said at the same time.

“That’d be my guess,” Judy said. “Either that or she’s just exceptionally impatient.”

“Trust me, Raven, she didn’t marry a man twice her age for his good looks and charity work.”

“Murder?” I asked, looking up at him.

He nodded. “Maybe.”

I turned my eyes back to the iPad. “Did you find a death certificate for Mr. Flores, Judy? Maybe there’s an innocent explanation. Fifty isn’t that old and I’d bet money there’s a clause in the will that she won’t inherit if he dies under suspicious circumstances. If true, that means the death had to be from natural causes or an easily explainable accident or something. Was he sick?”

“There was a death certificate signed by his personal physician,” Judy said, swiping the pad. The document popped up as she pointed. “According to that, Mr. Flores died of an acute M.I.”

“He had a heart attack…huh,” Miguel said. “Well, those are easily faked if you know how to do it.”

He could have read my mind.

“That was my first thought,” Judy said. “I’m still gathering his medical records to see if he had a lengthy history of heart disease or if the heart attack was something out of the ordinary. I’ll let you know as soon as I find something. You know those are more difficult to locate because of HIPAA.”

True. “Okay.”

She checked her watch. “It’s nearly two. If you’re going to swing by the house to pick up weapons before your meeting, you’d better get going.”

When I’d told her about the weapons the attorney insisted we wear to the meeting, she’d sent me a deep frown. She had an aversion to guns, especially considering she had young kids in public school. Who could blame her? I smiled at her. Judy really was a treasure. “You’re right as always, Judy.” I glanced at Miguel. “Should we get going then?”

“Yeah. I’ll meet you at the truck,” Miguel said. “I need to use the bathroom before we go.” His stomach growled loudly. “Dammit,” he grumbled. “We should have stopped for lunch before now. I’m not eating in front of a client even though we’re meeting at a restaurant. The mere smell of food in the place is gonna kill me.”

“There’s Chinese chicken salad in the fridge,” Judy said. “You can spare five minutes to eat before you go.”

Sometimes I loved her mothering. I stood up and kissed her before following Miguel into the kitchen.

MIGUEL

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