R Is for Ricochet

banks. After that, he'd funnel it back to his clients in a more respectable form.
    "Anyway, while all this was going on, the DEA was following the money from the other end, tracking funds through the system from a cartel importing marijuana and cocaine into Los Angeles. At some point, the two paths intersected and a red flag went up. I'd met the IRS investigator at a conference in B.C. about four years back. Shortly after that, he got assigned to the L.A. office to coordinate the task force. Once Beck's name surfaced, the focus shifted to him. The agent, Vince Turner, asked me to act as the local interface. His guys are keeping a low profile because the feds are trying to build a case without Beck's getting wind of it."
    "Oh, good luck. In this town?"
    "We're well aware," he said. "So far they've initiated mail and trash covers and they've been running surveillance, covering his movements in and out of the country. What they need now is an informant, which is where Reba Lafferty comes in."
    I gestured impatiently. "You're kidding. She's in love with the man. She'd never rat him out."
    "Don't be so sure…"
    "I
am
sure. She's smitten. That's how she's managed to hold herself together for the past two years. They wrote to each other and talked on the phone a couple of times a week. That's how she survived. I got it straight from her."
    "Just hear me out," he said. "You know the background on this."
    "Of course. She ripped off his company for megabucks over a two-year period -"
    "While she and Beck were having an affair," he said.
    "I know that. So what?"
    "So under the circumstances, doesn't it seem strange he'd take up with her again the minute she gets out?"
    "Well, yeah. Matter of fact, I asked her about that myself. She claims he's forgiven her. She says he knew she was self-destructive and couldn't help herself. Or words to that effect."
    He was shaking his head. "Nope. Don't think so. It doesn't ring true."
    "I'm not defending the point. I'm just telling you what she said. I agree with you. It's hard to believe Beck would turn the other cheek. So what's the deal? I gather you know something I don't."
    Cheney leaned forward, lowering his voice. I tilted my head closer and felt the whisper of his breath against my cheek as he spoke. "She took the fall for him. He had her set up accounts for a couple of phony companies. She'd invoice for bogus goods and services, then write checks out of accounts payable. He'd sign 'em and she'd send 'em off to a post office box. Later, she'd pick 'em up and deposit the money to a phony account. Sometimes, he'd wire the money offshore or she'd withdraw the cash herself and pass it on to him."
    "I don't get it. Why's he stealing from himself?"
    "He has people to pay off and this is how he covers his butt. He can't siphon off large sums of cash without an explanation. If he's ever audited, the IRS will want to know where the money went. He figured he'd disguise the fact he's draining off the bucks by making it look like a legitimate business expense."
    "Why not use money from one of his offshore accounts?"
    "Who knows the rationale? By then he'd cooked up a couple new schemes anyway and he was anxious to shift gears. He talked Reba into going down for the three hundred and fifty thou and he came out smelling like a rose. Since she claimed she'd gambled all the money away, who could prove otherwise? Truth is, she's always had a gambling problem and she was already making trips to Vegas and Reno, which suited him to a tee."
    "But how'd he talk her into it?"
    "Same way guys talk women into anything. He promised her the moon."
    "I can't believe she went to jail for him. What an idiot."
    Cheney shrugged. "My IRS buddy says there was talk of approaching her back then, offering to cut her a deal, but at the time, they were just setting up shop and couldn't afford to take the risk. Now it's crunch time. They need the inside track and she's it."
    "Beck must have a company comptroller and accountants. Why not one of them?"
    "They're working on that angle as a backup plan."
    "Well, you better tell 'em to work hard. If Reba spent two years in prison for Beck, why turn on him now?"
    "You know he's married…"
    I could feel my impatience mount. "Of course. And Reba knows it, too. He says it's a marriage of convenience. I think it's a crock and I told her so, but couldn't get her to budge."
    "She's delusional in that case. You see Beck and his wife together – her name's Tracy, by the way –