Mad, Bad and Blonde - Cathie Linz [41]
Because he knew with every fiber of his being that his father hadn’t sold corporate secrets for money. No way. He refused to believe that. And he was the only one who could prove them wrong.
That meant Caine had to keep his eyes on the mission and off Faith.
“Are you ready for your first case?” Abs asked Faith at work the next morning.
“Absolutely.”
“You need to do an asset search on Douglas W. Haywood, former subprime mortgage broker. He claims he’s broke and can’t pay child support for his three kids. He and his wife, our client, are going through an acrimonious divorce. She’s in small conference room A. Interview her and see what other information you can get on him.” Abs handed over the file, which listed the bare minimum information: employment record, credit report, social security number and date of birth. “Here. You’ll need these.” Abs gave her a box of Kleenex. “She’s a crier.”
Faith entered the room to find a petite woman with short brown hair and red-rimmed eyes.
“Hello, Mrs. Haywood. My name is Faith West, and I’ll be handling your case.”
Candy broke into sobs.
Faith handed her the box of Kleenex. “I assure you, I’m good at what I do.”
“Can . . . you. . . . break . . . his kneecaps?”
“I can do better than that. If he has any money, I’ll find it.”
“He’s great a hiding things. He hid the fact that he was having an affair. I was totally clueless. I always let him handle the money. He wanted it that way. ‘Don’t worry, baby,’ he’d tell me. ‘I’ve got it all under control.’” Candy started sobbing again.
“I’m sorry.” Faith patted her on the shoulder. “Let’s see what we can do here. Do you think you can answer a few questions?”
“Maybe.”
“If your husband was going to hide money, does he have any family or close friends who would help him?”
“He has a huge family, all as selfish as he is.”
“I need you to write down their names, addresses and dates of birth if you know them. I also need you to confirm this is his social security number and his birth date.”
“Yes, it is,” Candy said before starting to write on the yellow legal pad Faith gave her.
Several minutes later, Faith asked, “What else can you tell me about your husband?”
“That he’s a cheating asshole.”
“Obviously, but I meant other information, like what are his hobbies or interests?”
“His only interest is to have an affair with a twenty-year-old Hooters girl.”
Faith checked the file. There was a huge mortgage due on the house they lived in, which was close to foreclosure. Three luxury cars, all in his name, all late on their payments. A time-share in Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.
“Has he taken any trips lately?” Faith asked.
“We’ve been separated for three months, so I don’t know.”
“How about before that?” Faith said. “What was the last trip you know about, and where did he go?”
“To our time-share in Cabo. For Christmas. All of us went. Our last family vacation.” Candy started crying again. “I’m. . . . sor-sorry.” She hiccupped. “Damn. Now I . . . I’ve got hiccups.”
“Can I get you something? How about a glass of cold water?”
“To pour over my head?”
Faith smiled. “Hey, you’ve got a sense of humor. Good. That’s going to help us with your case.”
“How?”
“By keeping you sane through all this insanity.”
“Humor helps?”
“It’s a powerful aid. So are we. We’re on your side, and we’re here to help you.”
“What if the bastard really is broke? What if all the money is gone?”
Okay, here’s where worst-case scenarios came into play. But Faith found it easier to apply that philosophy to her own life than to apply it to others. Especially a mom with three kids.
“Let’s not cross that bridge just yet. Let me see what I can find first. Information is power.”
“I could use some power about now,” Candy admitted.
Faith spent the next fifteen minutes giving Candy a pep talk. When Candy left, Abs stopped by Faith’s cubicle. “So you survived Candy the Crier.”
“Doesn’t it bother you? To see someone in pain and panic?”
“You can’t get emotionally involved in every case. You can’t get emotionally involved