Scammed

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Scammed (Revenge is Fun, #5)

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  About the Author

  TO MY READERS

  Praise For Ripoff Book two in the series

  RIPOFF

  Life in the upscale Los Angeles community of the Venice Canals takes an ominous turn when the Vice President and Treasurer of the HOA appear to have been kidnapped, and the cops are looking in all the wrong places. Cameron Harson and her neighbors, former FBI agent turned author Danny Garrett and a retired Army Colonel, plus her friend Kate Steele and Danny’s friend Margaret Stanton join forces to investigate. What appeared to be kidnapping turns out to be so much more including murder.

  Marina Publishing Group

  Las Vegas NV

  COPYRIGHT © 2019 BY Morgan St. James

  All rights reserved. This story is a work of fiction produced from the authors’ imagination. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical including photocopying, recording or by any retrieval system without permission from the author and/or publisher except as part of a review or media article. No part of this publication may be sold or hired without written permission from the author or publisher.

  Special paperback edition pricing for quantity purchases by book clubs.

  E-mail request to marinapublishing@gmail.com

  ISBN-9781393114352

  Library of Congress Catalog Card No:

  2019911872

  Cover and interior design: Elaine McNeal

  Marina Publishing Group

  Las Vegas NV 89141

  www.marinapublishinggroup.com

  marinapublishing@gmail.com

  1

  The door to Cameron Harson’s plush Century City office inched open as her receptionist called out, “Hey, Boss, sorry to interrupt you. It’s time to gather everything up and hit the road.”

  Cameron checked her watch, then looked up, confusion written all over her face. “But, it’s only five. Hit the road now? Why?”

  Ramona frequently teased her boss about how much she looked like Goldie Hawn. “There you go, pulling a Goldie again. Don’t you remember you asked me to remind you about the HOA meeting tonight, and you know how tricky traffic can be. You should really leave now if you want to be on time.”

  Cameron groaned, picturing the stressful drive from Century City to the beach community of Venice right in the middle of the peak traffic hour. As much as she didn’t want to fight the impossible traffic, she reluctantly picked up the items on her drafting table and put them into a small portfolio. Holding the portfolio in one hand and her briefcase in the other, she thanked Ramona and headed for the elevators.

  The Venice Canals Homeowners Association held their board meeting promptly at six-thirty on the third Wednesday of every month. She silently cursed whoever decided to schedule it at that hour. It gave her no choice but to endure the worst possible LA rush hour traffic if she wanted to get there on time. It could take anywhere from an hour or more to drive from her high-rise office building on Century Park East to her home along one of the Venice canals. During off hours the drive only took about half that time.

  She made her way through the canyon of high-rise office buildings on Century Park East, then turned right into the line of vehicles hardly moving on Olympic Boulevard.

  As the owner of a very successful Century City advertising firm, Cameron enjoyed the luxury of making her own hours and generally made it a point to never leave her office at the same time thousands of cars streamed onto streets and freeways to create the legendary Los Angeles traffic scene. Not unless it was absolutely necessary. Muttering obscenities under her breath, she tapped her fingers on the steering wheel waiting for traffic to move.

  No matter which route she chose, every street and freeway would be jam packed. She glanced at the clock on the dash. Five-thirty. Traffic was even worse than usual. She had inched along for a precious fifteen minutes and travelled only a few blocks.

  Her mind wandered to the great news two months before when the VCHOA won their ongoing lawsuit. They had sued three developers for polluting the canals while constructing huge McMansions on lots where modest bungalows had stood for years and won a settlement of several million dollars. Even after the necessary repairs, there would be a very comfortable cushion left in the Reserve Account, so tonight’s meeting was really important.

  If she stayed on Olympic there was no way she would be home in time. Reason prevailed. Better to head south to Venice Boulevard and hopefully less traffic, or at least fewer traffic lights.

  During their last meeting the HOA Board decided to throw a gala party for all members as a celebration of their victory and their resulting fat bank account. The victory wasn’t only about the money and having the ability to repair the damage to the canals. Winning such a large suit would certainly have impact upon other developers tempted to ignore restrictions in the interest of earning big returns. In fact, her staff publicist made sure their victory received a headline in the LA Times accompanied by an interview with her. Of course, Harsen Advertising Associates had been mentioned.

  Lincoln Boulevard was in sight—only a short distance to her home now.

  Almost the second she opened the door, strains of the song I Am Woman blared from the cell phone in her shoulder bag signaling an incoming call.

  “I hear you,” she shouted as she fumbled for her cell phone and managed to snatch it out of the shoulder bag just in time.

  Kate Steele’s husky, easily recognizable voice said, “Oh, good. I was beginning to think you weren’t answering.”

  “I wasn’t but I saw it was you. I’m running late for a meeting, so I can only talk a moment. After a little repair to my makeup and ditching these sincere clothes for jeans, I have to go. What’s up?”

  “I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know I’m coming to town in two weeks to appear on the Crime Capers TV show. They’re filming on the 23rd, but I thought I’d come down a few days early and maybe we can hang out. There’s lots more, but I won’t take up your time now. Call me when you get home?”

  “Sure. But don’t even think of booking a hotel. You know my guest room awaits. I should be back here no later than ten and can call you then. Does that work for you?”

  “Absolutely. You know what a night owl I am. Wait till you hear the rest of what I have to tell you. It involves you and Kim, too, and I know you’ll love it.”

  “Okay, talk to you later. I’ve gotta run.”

  Cameron changed into Calvin Umberto designer jeans, a cream-colored cotton sweater and athletic shoes. A far better choice than her stilettos for the three-block walk to action-adventure hero Matt Darwin’s house, although the spike heels did make her legs look great.

  Cameron and her two friends, Kate and Kim, had uncovered a clever scheme to embezzle millions from the Federal government a few years
before and split a huge whistleblower reward that rounded out to about a million dollars each. Cameron used a sizeable portion of her share to establish her own advertising agency, Kate formed a business called FraudBusters and Kim became Director of the division they had worked for which required her to move to DC. She also married the United States Attorney General.

  What was Kate up to, anyway?

  Maybe she was digging into a fraud again as she had been on many other visits to the LA area. She decided to worry about that later as she prepared for the short walk to the movie idol’s house.

  Colonel Michael Thompson, the old retired warhorse who lived a few houses to the east, called to Cameron as he limped toward her. An injury sustained in combat during the Korean War left him with a bad left leg.

  “Hey, beautiful lady, wait up. That is if you don’t mind walking to Darwin’s house with a gimpy old gent.”

  She waited for him and they set off together. “Colonel Thompson, you know I consider it my pleasure to be escorted by a distinguished ‘gent’ like you. What’s with the gimpy and old?”

  He smiled at her, revealing teeth so perfect she always suspected they were not his own. “Just callin’ it like it is, darlin’. After all, I’m close to ninety and the leg speaks for itself. But then, you’ve heard so many of my war stories over a glass of wine on your patio, you don’t need me to repeat them.”

  Cameron loved spending time with the old dear and listening to his stories. He was a history buff and delighted in telling her all about the Venice Canals neighborhood. She remembered listening in fascination early in their friendship.

  “It isn’t just the name of a neighborhood,” he’d said. “Why, back in 1905 there was this developer named Abbot Kinney. His Venice in America plan included lit canals, gondoliers and arched bridges. It was such a unique development that it drew widespread publicity and that sure helped to sell canal-front lots.”

  She hadn’t known any of that and asked him to tell her more.

  “When cars became so popular in the late twenties, can you believe they actually filled in some of those nice canals to make roads. The water stagnated and by 1940 the remaining canals had fallen into such disrepair sidewalks were actually condemned by the city. They were practically giving away lots and bungalows. Even by the time I bought my house in the 70s, values had come up some, but no one suspected this rundown place would become what it is today. And that ends my history lesson for tonight.”

  As close as they had become, somehow she couldn’t bring herself to call him Michael or Mike as many of the neighbors did. She always afforded him the respect of calling him Colonel Thompson, or simply Colonel. He finally gave up imploring her to call him Mike.

  They walked along Sherman Canal at a pace that Thompson could handle, took a right turn on Grand Canal and after a while arrived at the brilliantly lit Darwin home. It occupied a choice corner lot and featured floor to ceiling windows that afforded spectacular views of the canals from two sides of the imposing structure. Lights blazed as if Matt Darwin wanted everyone to see how magnificent his home was. His wife greeted the pair when they rang the bell.

  “Michael, Cami, welcome,” she said in a sexy breathless voice. The woman’s figure gave serious competition to the current Hollywood sex symbols. She wore a sleek black jumpsuit cut in the front nearly to her waist. Blonde hair highlighted with a hot pink streak cascaded around her shoulders. The former actress showed them into her cavern of a living room where many of the board members were already seated on plush sofas or easy chairs.

  Matt Darwin’s rich baritone voice cut through the conversations around him. “Hey, Mike, Cami, we’re just waiting for Al Shady and Danny Garrett now so we can begin.”

  He looked across the room at Shady’s wife Barbara, the HOA treasurer. “Barb, do you know what’s keeping Al? I’m anxious to get on with this, but since he’s the Vice President, I guess we should wait for him before any taking any votes.”

  After Dr. Al Shady retired from his practice as an orthopedist a few years before, they sold their house in Beverly Hills and bought a house on Grand Canal. Both Shadys promptly snagged offices on the Board. Barbara, a woman who appeared to be in her forties, clearly paid a lot of attention to her appearance and claimed to be a CPA. She had been a shoo-in for open position of Treasurer. Her monthly financial statements were flawless and with the suit settled, she was now in charge of the huge reserve account.

  She had informed everyone at the last meeting that it appeared the reserve fund would likely be bolstered by a few million more than it had before, even though several millions would have to be paid out to correct the canal situation according to the estimates submitted as part of the lawsuit. The ‘I’m better than you’ attitude Barbara radiated didn’t make her very likeable, but as long as she kept everything in order she didn’t have to be liked.

  “I–I’m sure he’ll be along in a few minutes,” she said. “He was finishing up a phone call when I left, so I said I’d go on ahead. No problem. If he doesn’t make it, I can fill him in on anything he misses.”

  There was a knock at the door, and Darwin’s wife sashayed over to it. She returned followed by Danny Garrett. The retired FBI agent also bought his house before values skyrocketed into the millions and it became the best retirement plan he could have wished for. He shrewdly used some of the equity for lucrative investments that fattened his bank account nicely. Using his long experience as an undercover agent, Garrett discovered he had a talent for writing best-selling mystery novels. The newcomer made his way across the Brazilian rosewood floor toward the vacant seat next to Colonel Thompson.

  He nodded as he sat down. “Mike, good to see you.”

  Colonel Thompson returned the nod. “You, too, Danny. Haven’t seen you for a while. Up to anything dangerous lately?”

  The handsome man grinned. “Aw, you know me, Colonel. That’s my past. The most dangerous thing I’ve done lately was trying to kill one of my publishers.” He flashed a smile that made it appear as a tongue-in-cheek statement.

  Then he said, “Don’t look so shocked. On paper, my friend. On paper.”

  ”

  2

  The Colonel chuckled at the comment, then said, “Danny, do you know my friend Cameron Harsen? If you don’t, you should. She has quite an interesting background. Right up your alley.”

  Garrett looked toward Cameron. “Don’t think I’ve had the pleasure.” He reached across the Colonel to shake her hand. “Always happy to meet neighbors, particularly when they are as pretty as you are. Can’t wait to hear about this interesting background.”

  She gave him a once-over with no sign of recognition. “You aren’t on the Board, so how come you decided to come to the meeting?”

  “When I got the mailer about the pending repairs to the canals, I called Mike, here, to ask him if I can help. The Colonel will tell you I stay pretty much to myself, but I wanted to hear about what’s going to be done. He invited me to attend as a guest, so I figured this was a good chance to check it out. By the way, I think it’s great that you guys made those damn developers pay. They think they can do whatever they want. Guess that showed them. So, how do you know Mike?”

  Cameron assessed Garrett before she answered. He seemed to have an easy air of confidence about him. Somehow that made her feel he was a guy who could be counted on. She pictured him taking charge of a situation, and old Colonel Thompson really seemed to like him.

  “Um, we live a few houses apart. The Colonel often stops by for a visit when he’s walking his dog Clarence. And you?”

  Before Garrett could answer, Matt Darwin announced in his famous voice, “Well, it appears the Colonel has invited a friend. Mike, will you be good enough to introduce the newcomer?”

  A pained look shot across Colonel Thompson’s face as he rose to face everyone, and a little groan escaped. “Sorry. Damned knee has been acting up. Guess it’s the dampness in the air. Anyway, Danny is an old friend of mine. He’s been asking whether we
need some help on the Board, and of course we always do. I invited him to sit in on this meeting. He knows a lot about construction.” The Colonel had been careful not to mention the retired FBI part.

  Garrett smiled to acknowledge his interest.

  After Matt Darwin thanked him, he said, “I have no idea where Al is, so we’d better get started.” He glanced at his watch pointedly. “Barb, do you suppose you could try to raise him on his cell? If he was leaving right after you, he should have been here by now. You can use my office.” He indicated a door in the far-right corner of the room.

  Barbara returned a few minutes later sporting a concerned look. “That’s strange. It went to voicemail. Maybe he has the ringer turned off. He does that sometimes. I’m sure he’ll show up, though, so let’s get started.”

  Darwin called the meeting to order. They approved the minutes and Barbara gave the Treasurer’s report.

  The slight catch in her voice was entirely understandable considering her husband’s absence. “Well, the great news is we certainly are solvent. The balance in our account is”—she hesitated for a dramatic effect. All that was missing was a drum roll. “We have—$7,427,215 in our reserve fund after paying attorney’s fees. I think we just about wiped out the developers’ insurance. Anyway, now we can begin getting firm bids. As you know, the preliminary bids that were used for the lawsuit are in the range of five million. I estimate after the repairs, we will still have a balance of $2,000,000, give or take.”

  She took a deep breath. The pitch of her voice rose with a nervous, sharp edge. “Sorry. I’m really concerned about my husband now. I can’t figure out what happened to him and since I can’t seem to contact him, I’m afraid I’m going to have to leave early. Let me turn the floor over to Matt.”

  Murmurs of understanding filled the room. She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

  Matt called out after her, “He probably picked up a phone call or something, Barbara. Let us know when you find him. Okay, so next order of business is that we need a volunteer to act as the liaison with contractors so we can get firm bids and get the show on the road. I suggest we hire a professional construction manager, but we’ll still need someone to interact with whomever we choose. It will be pretty time consuming, so think about it before you volunteer. Knowing something about construction is a real plus. We have to make sure we’re not being ripped off, you know.”