“It appears that it was a legal transaction by an authorized user of the account. I’m sorry, but we can’t undo it.”
Dree tried a few more things, asking whether they could put a hold on the money or whether they could unauthorize that user, but the woman insisted that Andrea Clark had been the one to move the money from a pre-authorized browser located at an authorized IP address in Phoenix, Arizona.
Which meant Francis had Dree’s computer and was using it to continue to steal any money that she put in the bank.
Well, that old computer wasn’t authorized on this new account of Dree’s, ending that problem as far as she was concerned.
Rage vibrated through her that Francis had stolenyet moremoney.Forty thousand dollarswasa huge amountin her life, and it had been earmarked for Victor’s therapyagain.
There was no low that snake would not stoop to. He was a nasty spider that needed to be crushed. How the Hell could she put herlifeback togetherandget money to Mandi if he kepttaking all of it?
Dree texted Mandi,I can’t believe it, but Francis stole the money that was put in Victor’s therapy account. I’m going to be paid for this job here in France soon, and I’ll give you more money then. In the meantime, you need to open up anewaccount, maybe in a different bank, thatno one elsehas any access to, and I’ll put the money in that.
DreehatedFrancis. She hated hisguts.Who the hellstealsfrom a disabledkid?She wished that the guy she beat up outside the Louvre was Francis and that she’d kicked him in the nuts, too. She was going to call the police and the FBI, and sue him, and take him out back and rough him up.
Tapping Francis’s name on her phone’s contact list wasn’t even a voluntary action. She was just so mad at him, and she was used to being able to express whatever emotion she was feeling to Francis.
When she loved him, she had called him up and told him.
When she needed him to do something, she’d picked up her phone and asked him.
When something was wrong, she’d sent him a very subtle text that hinted about it, but nothing had ever changed.
And now that she was righteously enraged because he hadstolen moneyfrom a disabled kid, her disablednephewwhom she loved and thought he seemed to love her back and was willing to go with it, she was going to damn wellyellat Francis.
The third time her cell phone rang, she realized what she was doing. She didn’t want to talk to Francis. Why was she calling him?
Francis answered, “Dree? Where the hell are you?”
Old-Dree probably would’ve hung up on him because she wouldn’t have wanted to express how upset she was. It wasn’t proper. It might make him angry and hurt their relationship.
New-Dree was going to damn well tell him. “Francis, you belly-slithering, double-dealing, rat snake of a human being, did you steal money from Victor’s therapy account?”
Francis screamed at her, “Ineededthat money. Where were you hiding it?”
“It’snewmoney. I didn’t have anything hidden from you. Ineverhid anything from you. And then you went and stole it all, you thieving, conniving, lily-livered jackass!”
“Do you have any more money? Where are you hiding it?”
“None of your business! We are officially broken up, and I never want to see you again.” Just in case he thought there was any chance she would go back to him after he’d swindled her out of everything she owned, but she needed to say it out loud for her peace of mind.
“I don’t care what you think about our relationship! If you have any money, I need you to give it to meright now.”
“I would never give you another red cent, you turnip-eating low-life!” Dree had no idea where that particular insult had come from.
“I need six hundred thousand dollars, and I need it right now.”
“Why the hell do you needmoremoney, Francis? You stoleeverything I own,and you’re selling drugs, aren’t you? Peaceful Transitions isn’t a real hospice. It’s just a front so you can get narcotics from Good Sam and sell them. You’re a drug dealer, and you stole from the patients and me at Good Sam.”
“It’s none of your business what I was doing or why I need the money, but Ifuckingdo. I need itright now.Are you still in Paris?” he growled.
“Where I am is none ofyourbusiness. I never want to see you again.”
“If you’re hiding any money from me, you’d better hide, bitch. If I ever see you again, I’ll sell your kidneys on the black market. I’ll put you in a dark room and pimp you out for twenty bucks for an ass fuck.”
She spat, “You’d betterhopeyou never see me again, Francis Michael Senft. I will give you a horse-whipping you’ll never forget. They make frying pans out of cast iron for exactly this situation, and you’ve gotta sleep sometime.”
“I need six hundred thousand dollars, and you’d better fucking give it to me or else I will hunt you down and sell your skin for medical research.”
