Double Cross by James David Jordan Page A

close?”
    I shifted my weight in my chair. “I wouldn’t call us exactly close. We did work together quite a bit, though.”
    She pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse. “Do you know of any reason why she would kill herself?”
    “Are we on the record now?”
    “Yes, we’re on the record unless you tell me otherwise.”
    “So that’s the way it works, huh? A few minutes of small talk and then swoop in for the kill.”
    She lowered her notepad. “Had some bad experiences with reporters?”
    “Not really. I just don’t trust them much.”
    “Believe it or not, some of us are honest. All I want to do is ask you some questions. If you don’t want to answer something, just tell me. I try to be straight with my sources. That way they continue to be my sources.”
    She was ruining my reporter stereotype, but I wasn’t ready to be anybody’s idiot. I crossed my legs. “Why don’t we do it this way? You’re the investigative reporter; you tell me why Elise would kill herself. You must have some idea or you wouldn’t have asked me here.”
    She placed her pen on the table. “Okay, but it all depends.”
    “I don’t get it. What depends on what?”
    “Why Elise Hovden might kill herself depends on whether a half-million dollars is really missing from Simon Mason World Ministries.”
    A man in a navy blazer, gray slacks, and an open-collared shirt walked over and sat at the table beside us. He looked at his watch and then opened the Wall Street Journal.
    I lowered my voice. “What gives you the idea that money is missing?”
    “A source in Lewisville told me.”
    I rapped my knuckles on the table. “I knew it! That creepy Officer Ferrell. Are you going to do a story on it?”
    “Wouldn’t you, if you were me? By the way, I didn’t say it was a police officer who told me.”
    I shrugged. “I’ve never been a reporter, so I don’t know whether I’d do a story—and I know it was Ferrell. Nobody in Lewisville could have known except the police.”
    She looked at me steadily and apparently decided not to get bogged down in an argument over who her source was. “I’ve been investigating a bunch of thugs who extort money from high-profile people. I want to find out if there’s any connection here. So, how about it? Will you confirm that the money is missing?”
    I watched the man in the blazer put his paper down on the table and walk to the counter. When I turned back to Parst, I said, “Okay, yes. The money is missing. That won’t be a secret for long anyway. Simon had nothing to do with it, though. He told me that himself, and the auditors have confirmed it. Simon was not a thief.”
    “I don’t have any reason to believe he was. So, auditors have already gone over the books?”
    “Yes.”
    She picked up her notepad and wrote for a few seconds, then looked up at me. “Does this have anything to do with Elise Hovden’s suicide?”
    “A minute ago, you said it depends. I’m waiting for you to tell me.”
    “I heard there was a suicide note and that Ms. Hovden admitted taking the money.”
    “You seem to know this story pretty well already. I don’t think it’s my place to be talking about whether there was a note. Elise has a mother who lives in the area. That’s pretty personal stuff. I will tell you that it looks as if Elise was embezzling money from the ministry. That won’t remain a secret for long either.”
    “That’s fine. What I’m really interested in is whether Ms. Hovden was being blackmailed. I’m trying to expose some pretty bad people. You may have information that can help.”
    I hadn’t expected that. Simon had been famous and an obvious target, but I couldn’t think of a single reason why anyone would want to blackmail Elise Hovden. “Why don’t you tell me something about these bad people and the way they operate? Then maybe I can tell you something you might want to know.”
    “Have you read any of my stories lately?”
    “Sorry, I’ve been pretty