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?“Just my glasses,” Jon rasped, and I released my grip and glanced up at Mark who gave me a look of admiration.
?Jon carefully reached into the pocket of his sports coat and brought out a black vinyl case and a pair of glasses.
?“Remind me not to make you mad,” Mark praised me with a smile.
?I returned the smile, then barked at Jon, “Don’t reach for anything if I don’t know what it is.”
?Jon nodded, fear on his face.
?“Don’t know if I can promise that,” Mark flirted.
?I met his eyes and replied in a sultry tone, “In your case, I’ll probably know what you’re reaching for—”
?“This is it!” Jon gushed, too wrapped up in the papers to be bothered with our flirting. “This is astounding. It shows numerous accounts—and there are lists of clients with amounts he—oh my goodness—money he skimmed from them.”
?I leaned in and my eyes searched the page. Mark leaned over and read it as well.
?“Look,” Jon said, and pointed at one of the names, “here’s Ms. Cunningham—oh, she’s been taken for quite a bit.”
?“So this paper makes sense to you?” I concluded.
?“I do have a degree in accounting,” Jon huffed. “When you deal with insurance and annuities, it helps to know what you are talking about.”
?“Well, that will come in handy.” I took the pages away from him and glanced at them. “We can turn these records and you over to the police.”
?“The police?” Jon worried. “But I haven’t done anything.”
?I had to laugh. “You stole Mark’s keys, attempted to break into his apartment, made a deal with a woman who ended up shot to steal the records of a man who ended up dead. I think Detective DeStadler is going to want to have a long talk with you.”
?Jon turned pale—well, paler. “No, if word got out about these incongruities—and if I were arrested—it could ruin me.”
?“Being arrested is better than the murderer tracking you down,” Mark argued.
?Jon’s eyes went from Mark to me. “Let me stay here. I don’t want to risk going out again at night.”
?“Feeling a little paranoid?”
?“I’m the link between these records and the murdered parties,” he whined. “I need to be protected.”
?Mark rose and pulled out his phone. “I’m calling DeStadler. If you need protection, he would be the one to do it.” He quickly input the number.
?The entire time Jon sat with a defeated look on his face, I examined the pages and scrutinized every name on the list.
?“Detective? It’s Mark Watkins…Yes, sir, Ms. Homes and I are at my condo. However, we received an unexpected visit from Jon Kane…It appears he is afraid that he is targeted to be the next victim.”
?I focused on the papers in front of me as Mark gave a quick explanation of what Jon had told us. Finally, he put his hand over the phone. “Sheryl, DeStadler wants the translated files.”
?I gave an exasperated sigh and headed into the bedroom to send it from the computer. Even from the other room, I could hear Mark as he continued to speak on the phone.
?“Should we bring Mr. Kane to the precinct?…I see, you’ve got a search warrant for his place and don’t want him in the way?”
?I had to snicker at this as I input the email address and sent the files.
?“I guess I can arrange a place for him to stay,” Mark spoke into the phone.
?I froze and popped my head out of the bedroom. I glanced at Mark, and then glared at Jon with a desire to kill.
?I had to admit, Mark looked pretty disappointed as well.
