“This is very difficult for me, Zach,” Susan said in a trembling voice as she sat in a chair in front of him while he held her long braid in his hand. “My hair hasn’t been cut since I was born.”
“If there were any other way, Susan,” Zach said. “But everything hinges on my credibility when I talk to Quinn. If I have your braid with me, he won’t doubt anything that I tell him because I’ll be telling him exactly what he wants to hear. It’s all part of keeping him off balance until the hearing.”
“Go ahead then,” Susan said, tears coursing down her cheeks as Zach cut off her braid in one quick slice.
“Okay, I’m ready,” Zach said, closing the braid in a briefcase that had been provided by the FBI. “Liam, if anything happens to either of them while I’m doing this, you’ll answer to me.”
“Zach, relax,” Liam said, gripping his shoulder. “This is what we do. You just focus on your part and let us do our jobs.”
During the 40-minute ride to the Financial House in Cherry Creek where the Kumms Corporate headquarters was located, the audio/visual wire that Zach was wearing beneath his clothes was double and triple checked. Putting on a pair of dark aviator sunglasses as he exited the car, Zach gripped the briefcase firmly in his hand and took a deep breath before proceeding into the building and up the elevator to the top floor, which was entirely taken by the Kumms Corporation.
“May I help you?” the pretty receptionist asked, smiling at Zach.
“I’d like to see Quinn Kumms,” Zach replied, smiling back.
“Do you have an appointment?” the receptionist asked.
“No,” Zach replied. “But he’ll see me. Tell him it’s about a braid.”
“A braid?” the receptionist asked.
“Just tell him,” Zach said. “If he doesn’t want to see me, I’ll leave.”
“One moment, please,” she said, picking up a phone. “If you’ll wait just a minute, someone will be with you,” she said after hanging up the phone.
“May I help you?” a nasally voice asked from behind as Zach looked out the windows at the view of the front range of the Rocky Mountains.
“Are you Quinn Kumms?” Zach asked the shifty-looking man whose eyes never met his own.
“I’m Mr. Kumms’ head of security, Brian Vimmer,” he replied.
“I want to see Quinn Kumms,” Zach said.
“Perhaps you could explain to me who you are and why you want to see him,” Brian said.
“I’ll see Quinn Kumms or I’ll go talk to someone else who is interested in what I have to say,” Zach replied, staring down at the man, his aviator glasses blocking his eyes.
“Please follow me,” Brian said after a moment’s pause, turning and leading the way into the suite.
At the end of a long hallway, they came to a double door bearing a brass plaque with Quinn Kumms, General Counsel, Kumms Corporation etched onto it.
“This is Mr. Quinn’s office,” Brian said, opening the door and entering, Zach following. “Mr. Quinn, this is the gentleman who wishes to speak with you,” he said to the brown-haired, hazel-eyed man sitting behind a big desk, his face bearded.
“Who-who are you?” Quinn asked, his face paling as he stared at Zach.
“My name is Zach Gary,” he replied. “Get rid of the flunky.”
“Who do you think you’re…” Brian started to say, then choked it off when Zach’s hand found his throat and lifted him onto his toes.
“Fuck off, flunky,” Zach said, shoving him away from himself.
“I-I’ll be okay, Brian,” Quinn said as Brian choked, his eyes tearing. “Just wait outside.”
“Okay, Mr. Gary, you have my undivided attention,” Quinn said, not bothering to offer him a seat. State your business. I’m a very busy man.”
Not saying a word, Zach opened his briefcase and reached into it, grabbing Susan’s braid and pulling it out and tossing it onto Quinn’s desk, not missing the flash of joy on his face as he reached out with a trembling hand to touch it.
“Where-where did you get this?” Quinn asked quietly, unable to take his eyes from the braid.
“Where do you think?” Zach replied, laughing harshly. “She’s dead, that’s the proof that was required, now where’s my $5 million?”
“Where-where did it happen?” Quinn asked, struggling to contain his elation.
“Salalah, Oman, if that means anything to you,” Zach replied. “My money. Now! You do not want to fuck with me.”
“Yes, yes, right away,” Quinn said. “Brian!” he called out sharply, the door immediately opening and Brian’s weaselly face peered in.
“Mr. Quinn, is everything okay?” Brian asked, stepping into the office, his eyes going directly to the braid on the desk.
“Everything is fine,” Quinn replied, smiling broadly. “Bring me that bag that I had you put aside.”
“Yes, sir,” Brian said, backing out of the office, returning a few minutes later with a medium-sized gym bag which he set on the desk, the whole time Quinn’s eyes never leaving the braid, one hand shakily stroking it.
“There’s your money, Mr. Gary,” Quinn said, pushing the bag towards Zach.
Opening the bag, Zach saw bundles of $100 bills. Closing the bag, he smiled, then lay the briefcase on the desk as he picked up the bag.
“You can keep it,” he said, Brian scampering out of his way as he made his way to the door. “Nice doing business with you, Mr. Kumms,” he said as he left.
When Zach got into the FBI’s car after first walking around the block and reversing himself three times to make sure that he wasn’t being followed, he found Liam beside himself.
“Jesus Christ, Zach, that was fucking amazing,” Liam laughed. “Maybe you should come to work for us.”
“Will that be enough?” Zach asked.
“More than enough, I’d think,” Liam replied. “But let’s get back to the ranch and look at what we got and burn it to disc.”
“Can we stop at a liquor store on the way?” Zach asked.
“Charlie, stop at Argonaut Wine & Liquor, will you?” Liam said to the agent driving the car.
“Oh, Zach, I was so worried about you,” Susan cried out when he entered the ranch house, hugging him tightly, then pulling his head down for a kiss, Lauren and Liam exchanging raised eyebrows.
“Did everything go okay?” Krista asked, molding herself to him from the side, a hand on his cheek as he kissed her, too, eliciting even higher raised eyebrows between Liam and Lauren.
“I don’t see how it could have gone any better,” Zach replied, dropping the bag on the table. “There’s $5 million worth of proof.”
“My god, so much money,” Krista gasped when she opened the bag and saw all of the bundles of $100 bills. “What will happen to it?” she asked, looking up at Liam.
“Well, we need to process it,” Liam replied, “but since it was freely given to you and you have committed no crime that I’m aware of associated with this money, it should be yours.”
“I agree,” Gerard said. “As long as origin of the money is not from any criminal proceedings, then there is no reason that it wouldn’t be yours.”
“A small reward for all of your troubles and your genius in getting me through this,” Susan said.
“Somehow it seems dirty,” Zach said, though he couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as he looked at all of the money in the bag. “I brought something for us, to celebrate, if that’s really appropriate,” he said, opening the other bag that he had and producing two bottles of 2002 Dom Perignon Brut Rose champagne.