Dead Fit - 21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

On Monday morning, while I trotted alongside one of my clients on a treadmill, the thought of Todd getting away with the break-in at St. Theresa's Thrift Shop gnawed away at my gut.

I was sure Todd broke into the Thrift Shop to try to get his smartphone back. But from the conversation I had with Sister Ann Marie, it didn't sound like the police were planning to pursue a full investigation of the crime. It was a closed case for them. Who could blame them? No clues were left behind and Sister Ann Marie didn't seem overly concerned about pressing charges.

Maybe the police would be willing to reopen the case if they were to receive an anonymous tip. And if Todd ended up being charged with burglarizing the Thrift Shop, I wouldn't have to worry about his friendship with Brian anymore. He'd be behind bars.

In between sessions with clients, I took a fifteen minute break in my car and dialed the Long Beach Police Department. As a precaution, I *67'd my call to block my phone number. Not that I thought it would do much good. I'm sure if the Police Department really wanted to know the source of the phone call, they could do so without relying on caller id.

A woman answered, “Long Beach Police Department, how may I direct your call?”

“Yes, I’d like to make an anonymous crime tip, please.”

“Okay, please hold while I transfer you to a crime reporting desk.”

“Well, before you transfer me, how do I know all of this will be anonymous?”

“The Officer who answers the line will simply ask you to provide information on the crime. You may be asked some additional questions, just to clarify the situation, but in no way are you required to disclose your name or personal contact information.”

“That sounds alright. Is this line being recorded?”

“No, Sir, you’re calling the main number to Long Beach Police. We don’t record this line. And if we do record a line, we’d ask your permission first.”

“So the crime reporting desk won’t be taping my voice or tracing my call?”

“No, Sir.”

“Okay, I guess that sounds alright to me.”

“I’ll transfer you now.” The operator transferred me and an automated voice politely let me know that I had reached the crime reporting desk and to please hold shortly for the next available Officer. There was no music to keep me company while I waited for my call to be answered. At least the Police Department could have the theme song to Law & Order playing in the background.

I was on hold less than a minute before an Officer answered, “Crime Reporting Hotline, this is Officer Phillips, how may I help you?”

“Yes, I’d like to report a crime, please.”

“Okay, go ahead.”

“There was a break-in at St. Theresa’s Thrift Shop last Thursday night and I know who did it.”

“Why don’t you tell me about the break-in, including the person or persons who were involved? Just as a reminder, everything you say will be confidential. There is a reward for reporting a crime that leads to a conviction, so at the end of the call, if you’re interested in the reward, you can leave me your name and contact information. But that's optional.”

The officer sounded authentic and I felt more confident about making the phone call.

“I can’t tell you the exact details of the crime, but I know that the break-in occurred sometime between ten on Thursday night and six on Friday morning. Anyway, the guy who committed the crime is Todd Evans. He owns a business in Long Beach.”

“And how do you know all of this?”

“I’m sorry?”

“How do you know that Todd Evans committed the crime?”

“Well, I don’t know for certain, but I’m pretty sure he’s the one who did it.” Wasn't my word good enough?

“Sir, I appreciate you calling with this tip, but you haven’t given me much to go by. We can’t do anything with this tip unless you give us a convincing reason to investigate the matter. An accusation isn’t enough.”

“I’m not making this up, I promise.”

“Sir, no one is suggesting that you're making this up. However, without more information to go by, I have no probable cause to speak to Mr. Evans.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks.” Then I added, “But I’m telling you, if you need a suspect for that break-in, Todd Evans is your man.”

“Thank you for calling, Sir.”

Well that was worthless. What’s the point of having an anonymous crime reporting hotline if you have to do all the legwork? Aren’t officers supposed to take the information and conduct their own investigation?

I was a little irritated, but I could also see Officer Phillips’ point. How was he supposed to believe me when he didn’t even know me? I wasn’t happy with the outcome and I wanted someone in an official capacity to know that Todd was the culprit. My only other option was to call the one person in the Long Beach Police Department who could at least vouch for my integrity.

“Marshall, is everything okay?” What a weird way for Derek to answer his mobile phone.

“Yea, things are fine with me,” I said, with exaggerated chipper. “Listen, I don’t have much time to speak, but I just wanted to give you a little crime tip. Last week, St. Theresa’s Thrift Shop was broken into and I’m sure that Todd Evans was responsible. I think it may have something to do with your investigation on him, like he was looking for something related to the crime. Maybe a cell phone or a smartphone or something along those lines.”

“And how do you know this?”

“I can’t get into that, but let me just say that I’m sure I’m right.”

“Marshall, unless you tell me something more, I can’t really go by what you told me. I’d be violating due process rights if I just went around questioning people based on what someone else said.”

Obviously no one was going to believe me and Todd was going to get away with robbing a church. “Okay, Derek, I just wanted to pass along information. I have to go.” I quickly hung up. I didn’t want to get into it with Derek.

This whole notion of due process was really getting on my nerves. What about due process for the church? What about due process for me?

My phone vibrated. It was Derek calling me back. Should I answer or let it go to voice mail? Derek's persistent. If I don't answer, he'll just keep calling back. Better to get this over with now.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Marshall, you know it's me.”

“Oh, hey Derek, what's up?”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“What do you mean,” I asked innocently.

“Marshall, I'm being serious. If you know something about Todd, I want to know what it is and how you know it. Stop being secretive with all of this.”

“Well, since you're being a little tight lipped about this whole situation, don't you think I have a right to be, too?”

“My confidentiality is a professional obligation to the Police Department. You, on the other hand, are taking this personally and acting like a kid.”

I knew I shouldn't have answered the phone. Derek was getting on my nerves.

“I'm sorry; I didn't tell you this to upset you. All I wanted to do was call you up with some helpful information, just like you did for me last week.” It felt cathartic being able to say that to him. Before Derek could respond, I said, “Anyway, like I said before, I have to run.”

This time, I turned off my phone just in case he tried to call back. I got out of my car and went back to work, dissatisfied that nothing was going to happen to Todd, but pleased to have been able to successfully annoy Derek.

A little before noon, Trevor called me at my desk.

“I’m having a moment of weakness and I need you to pull me through,” Trevor said.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m at work and this morning’s been a bitch. I barely sat down at my desk this morning when my boss called me into his office and reamed me for losing a client. Then, my fiancée called to tell me her matron of honor has hives and doesn’t know if she’ll be able to make it to the wedding. The McDonald’s across the street is calling my name. I just need a Big Mac and fries to get through the day.”

“Don’t do it, Trevor,” I warned.

“Aw, come on, Jaysen, it’s just one meal. You said I could eat out once a week.”

My client was on a path of self destruction and if I didn't curb his trajectory, he wasn't going to reach his goal by his wedding day. “It’s only Monday, Trevor. Please don’t start your week eating fast food.” I thought about the prospect of having to explain to Gary why Trevor wasn’t able to reach his goal. I could just see it now; Gary would fire me, two months on the job. He probably wouldn’t even give me severance pay. It was time for an intervention, if not for Trevor's sake, than for mine.

“I gotta keep you focused on your plan. What’s the address to your office? I’ll bring lunch for both of us,” I suggested.

I swung by Whole Foods and picked up two salads. By the time I got to Trevor’s office, he was already in the lobby waiting for me. He was pacing back and forth, looking extremely agitated. The receptionist was eying his every move, probably concerned he could go postal at any moment. I guess he really was having a bad day.

“Let’s go to the courtyard and eat,” Trevor said. We cut across the lobby and into a covered courtyard with tables and chairs. We found an empty table and I pulled out our salads.

Trevor stared at his prepackaged salad. “Please tell me there’s something fried hidden among all of this green.”

“No, but there is a delicious, low fat, grilled chicken breast in there.”

“Is there at least a packet of ranch salad dressing,” he asked.

“Trevor, most dressing kills the low-cal value of salads, so we’re going dry on this one.”

I watched Trevor open his salad. He dug around until he found a chunk of chicken. That was the first thing he ate, followed by a crouton.

“You know, the green stuff tastes alright, too,” I said, smiling at him.

“Give me a minute. I’m building myself up to that part.”

I opened my salad and started eating, selecting a nice romaine heart to set a good example. “So tell me, what happened that drove you to the brink of eating a Big Mac?”

“Finding out I lost a client first thing in the morning sucked, not to mention having the boss go off on me. But what really sent me over the edge was the phone call from my fiancée. She sounded miserable telling me about her Matron of Honor. That's when I had a panic attack. I thought about possibly not reaching my goal. All this time, I’ve been telling my fiancée not to worry about the wedding, that everything was going to turn out just fine. The only thing I was supposed to get done was make sure my tuxedo pants fit. She took care of all the other wedding details. What if I can’t even do this one tiny thing for my wife, how was that a way to start the rest of our lives together? I felt awful. I just wanted to give up on everything.”

At times like these, I was grateful that Long Beach State's Exercise Science program required completion of human psychology courses. While it was endearing Trevor was investing so much energy into losing weight for his bride-to-be, he was making the same mistake many people do when it comes to weight loss. Trevor set up dire consequences in his mind. He believed if he didn't lose enough weight to squeeze into his tux, it would ruin the wedding, and ultimately, their marriage. This was the second time he compromised an otherwise logical plan because he put too much pressure on himself. I needed to help him reframe his goal.

“Can I try to help you change your perspective,” I asked Trevor.

“I was kind of hoping you'd just kick my ass and tell me to man up.”

“I'm not going to kick your ass,” I laughed. “What you're going through isn't unusual. I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself. Let's say you don't hit your weight goal by the time of the wedding. The worst that could happen is you won't fit into your tuxedo pants. You already have a back up plan; you have a spare pair of black pants that you know will fit you. So the wedding won't be perfect, but really, does that mean the rest of your marriage is ruined?”

Trevor gnawed on his lower lip, mulling over my message. “Now that you say it aloud, it does sound silly,” he said sheepishly.

“You're right, it is silly. But sometimes it takes talking to someone else to sort through the issues.”

Trevor looked less agitated. He said, “I liked what you just did with me. Sometimes I crawl into my head because I think I can work things through myself. But that’s when I get in trouble. Instead of sorting out the issues, I just go deeper and deeper. Next thing you know, I feel overwhelmed and I want to give up. You know?”

“Yea, believe me, I know all about that,” I muttered, referring to my futile efforts to get anywhere on Todd’s criminal investigation.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh it’s nothing big, Trevor. I was just thinking, I can relate to what you just said about over-analyzing an issue, letting myself get overwhelmed and then wanting to throw in the towel. I’m going through that right now, too.”

“Well, tell me what’s going on. You're always so helpful for me. Maybe I can return the favor,” Trevor pleaded.

Trevor seemed like he was genuinely interested in hearing my story. What have I got to lose by telling him the situation? Ana was the only other person I really trusted with stuff like this. But she already gave me her opinion – she thought I should mind my own business and leave the investigation to the police. Maybe Trevor could give me a different perspective, one that I might seriously consider.

“Well, if you want to get personal, I’ve met this guy that I really like,” I said.

Trevor gave me quizzical look. Apparently he hadn’t figured out I was gay. Now was a good time as ever to let him know.

“Maybe I should back up for a minute. I'm gay. I know it's a weird time to bring this up, but it's relevant to the story. I hope it doesn't bother you.”

“Oh no, not at all. I guess I was more surprised than anything. It's cool with me. I have lots of gay friends. Go on.”

“Anyway, I really like him. His name is Brian and he's the first guy I've ever dated. But he’s got some issues that are creeping up and they're bothering me. I tried to work through it, but I’m not getting too far. Kind of like you this morning, I feel like giving up.”

Trevor's eye widened. He leaned in closer, completely interested to hear more. “Like, what kind of issues does he have,” he asked.

“Well, Brian's got a friend who has some serious problems. I learned from a reliable source in law enforcement that his friend is currently under criminal investigation for investment fraud. My source insists I should stop seeing Brian or else my name could get dragged into the investigation. Of course, I’m not supposed to know this information, so I can’t talk to Brian about it.”

I stopped talking long enough to shove food in my mouth. Trevor looked like he was going to fall out of his seat waiting for me to continue the story. I swallowed a mouthful of food and continued, “That's when I got this wild idea in my head to play private eye and start my own investigation on him.”

Without going into detail, I told him about sending Ana to Todd to see if he'd attempt to swindle her out of money. I told him about gaining access to Todd's cell phone and trying, unsuccessfully, to pull up old emails or text messages. I even told him about the break-in at St. Theresa's and my conversation with Sister Ann Marie. I pretty much told him everything, but I skipped the part about learning that Todd and Brian used to date. It seemed irrelevant and I didn't want to muddy the story. I wanted Trevor to focus on the real problem of how I was going to conduct my investigation on Todd. Ana could help me work through my anxiety of knowing the two used to date.

I looked at Trevor, wondering what was going through his mind. He nibbled on some lettuce and after a few moments asked, “Assuming you do find something on him, what do you expect to do with the information?”

That was a good question.

“I think I’d just feel better if I knew what exactly this guy is involved in. I mean, if he’s doing something illegal that in no way harms Brian or me, why should I care? It just shows that Brian has bad taste in friends, that’s all. But if my source is right and he’s doing something that could harm Brian or me, we got to deal with it.”

Trevor gave me a scrutinizing look and asked, “Is that the only thing you're trying to accomplish?”

I sighed and said, “I guess there was a part of me that thought if I could find proof he's doing something illegal, I could help the police with their investigation. Then he could officially be charged with a crime and just disappear. All of my worries would go away.” Saying it aloud made my face redden. “I know, I know, it's an absurd idea.”

Trevor nodded, “It does sound like you're trying to do too much. But I’ve got to hand it to you; you’ve come up with some pretty clever ways to research Brian’s friend. What about something a little simpler, though? Like using the internet to see if you can dig up anything on him.”

Hmmm. The internet was something I hadn’t explored.

“You could even go to one of those websites that do online background checks to see what you can find. It probably wouldn't be too expensive,” Trevor suggested.

Trevor was on to something. Using the internet seemed like it might offer me information on Todd’s background. But even with a new approach, I still wasn’t sure what I was trying to accomplish with all of this investigating. I asked, “Let’s say I did find dirt on him, like that he really is stealing money from his clients. What would I do with that information,” I asked.

“You could call him out on it,” Trevor said. “As I see it, right now the only information you have on him is stuff you’re not supposed to know. So you have no reason to tell Brian to stay away from his friend. But let’s say you found out on your own that he's had trouble with the law in the past, or that some of his clients have accused him of fraud. Well that would be a good reason for you to suggest to Brian that he should end the friendship. You know?”

“It makes sense,” I said. Trevor's words gave some clarity. Until now, I'd been doing a bunch of things randomly, hoping something good would come out of it all. But Trevor was right. My only goal was to end the friendship between Brian and Todd. All I needed was to dig up enough incriminating evidence. That would give me reason to tell Brian to stay away from him. It seemed simple enough, now that we talked it out aloud. But it took an outsider to help me work it out.

I was going to thank him for his help and move on to a less personal subject, but Trevor continued, “I can tell you like Brian a lot. I think you’d be crazy to give up now. It’s like me and exercise. I'm letting myself get frustrated on trying to reach 150 by the wedding day. But really, it should be the idea of living a healthy lifestyle and having a happy marriage that motivates me. And neither of that will happen if I lose sight of my ultimate goal.”

By the time we finished lunch, Trevor was optimistic again. He walked me back to the lobby and said, “Man, you’re a lifesaver, Jaysen. I feel like I can make it now. Thanks for the lunch and conversation. I really needed it.”

Funny, I was just going to say the same to him.

* * * * *

After work, I drove to Ocean Boulevard for a run along the shoreline. The beach was crowded, but with my Ipod, I was able to create my own little bubble to block out the world.

As I jogged, the conversation I had earlier in the day with Trevor replayed in my mind. Now that it had been a few hours since he inspired me, the adrenaline was wearing off. I realized if I wanted to keep fighting, I needed to come up with a better plan.

I thought about the three approaches I tried in my investigation of Todd’s alleged criminal activity. The first approach was trying to figure out what information was on the smartphone that Todd wanted back so badly. While it seemed like the phone was the most promising clue, an independent tech expert concluded that there was no way of reviving it. This was a dead end and I needed to quit investing so much energy into it.

My second approach was to send Ana into Todd’s office to see if he would try to swindle her. While it was a good attempt, I now could see some serious flaws in that idea. For starters, I sent Ana to Todd with a superficial story, one that probably reeked of a sting operation or a childish prank. Looking back on what we tried to do, the whole notion that I could catch him in the act of scamming was unrealistic on my part, especially when I lacked an understanding of investments and finances.

My third approach was to call Long Beach Police, hoping they’d believe me and take action when I told them Todd was behind the break-in at St. Theresa’s. I figured if they investigated the break-in, his investment fraud would come to light, too. While I was certain my allegation was true, I had to be fair to the police. Why should they believe me, a complete stranger? This, too, was a dead end.

Trevor was right. I had used all sorts of complicated ways to investigate Todd, but I missed the simple steps. His suggestion of using the internet was worth pursuing a little further.

I had just passed the three mile mark when my thoughts returned to my current activity. I let out an audible groan, turned around, and jogged back towards my car. I'd meant to run a total of three miles. Wrapped up in my thoughts about Todd, I lost track of how far I had actually gone. Instead, I ran three miles one way. Oh well, all this running would pay off someday.

On my way home, I stopped by Wendy’s to pick up chili and a baked potato to replenish my reserves of carbohydrates. While I ate, I sat at my computer to do a little research. I needed better understanding of financial scams if I was going to get better results.

I opened the web browser and went to the Google search page. I had no idea where to begin, so I started by reading some basic personal finance websites to brush up on my vocabulary. I found nothing earth shattering, but I did make a mental note that I needed to start a ROTH IRA soon if I hoped to retire by 65.

Next, I ran a generic search using the keywords, “scam,” “common,” and “finance.” Tens of thousands of results returned, so I randomly clicked on a few websites providing consumer information on how to avoid financial scams. The websites mainly addressed scams involving fraudulent emails used to phish for account information, theft of identification, and promises of money in exchange for performing simple tasks. These scams seemed too petty for Todd to perform, but I made another mental note to avoid opening any emails from the royal family of Nigeria asking me for my account information.

I hit the browser's back button and returned to the list of websites generated from my original keyword search, this time replacing the word “common” with “complex.” I scanned the results of my search and "ponzi" popped up numerous times. I clicked on one of the entries and read about ponzi schemes.

In a ponzi scheme, also known as a pyramid scheme, high returns are offered to entice new investors. The new money that comes in is used to pay off older investors. According to the article, a common way to spot a ponzi scheme is to look for promises of unusually high returns and quick growth by the company offering the product.

I remembered that Todd told Ana he rarely accepts new investors. The ponzi scheme seemed to rely on new money flowing in to pay off other investors. While I flagged it as a possibility, I put it low on my list of scams to research.

My search wasn't filling my needs, so I ran a new search using the words “illegal,” “investment,” and “activity.” There were numerous entries on the illegal practice of front-running. I clicked on one of the links and read up.

In front-running, a stock broker or financial advisor executes a trade in his personal account before he executes the same trade in the accounts of his clients. By executing his clients' transaction after his own, he benefits from the sudden increase in the price of the stock and can make a quick profit.

I perked up. Now this was the type of scam that needed further research. It seemed like this kind of fraud could go relatively unnoticed.

My next step was to see if I could find any instances of front-running in Los Angeles. I narrowed my search by adding the words, “Southern California.” Again, a bunch of entries resulted, but one of them caught my attention and I clicked on the web address. The link took me to an archived story from the Los Angeles Times covering an investment firm in LA where multiple financial advisors had been charged and convicted of front-running. The article itself wasn't particularly meaningful, but it referenced a Sandy Nguyen, a native of Long Beach, who was credited with the successful investigation.

Sandy Nguyen and I went to Wilson High School together. She was two years older than me, so our circle of friends didn't overlap much. We became friends when we sat next to each other in choir; Sandy sang Alto and I was a Tenor. Sandy was a bookworm compared to me. She took Advanced Placement classes and still managed to graduate with all A's. When she was a senior, Sandy didn't have a date for Prom, so I ended up going with her. Before we went to the dance, I met her parents. Talk about a traditional family.

Finding Sandy's affiliation with investment fraud was the highlight of my night. Perhaps Sandy could help me understand illegal investment activities. I opened up a new web browser and searched keywords “Sandy Nguyen Los Angeles.” Numerous links to articles involving her investigation popped up. I was looking for some type of contact information for Sandy.

After scrolling through a few pages, I found a promising entry. I clicked the link and went to the homepage of the Accounting Firm of Murphy & O'Brien. Under the “About Us” page, there was a listing of the firm's partners and accountants, and included a profile of Sandy, her picture, and a list of her accomplishments. I looked at her picture and laughed; this very well could have been her Senior Portrait, except that she was wearing a suit in this picture. Except for that, she looked exactly the same.

The firm's webpage listed a main contact phone number and the email addresses for all staff. I copied Sandy's email address and opened up my email account. I kept my message to Sandy brief, not wanting to say too much. Instead, I let her know that I had found her name while searching the internet and that I would love to catch up with her, which wasn't a lie. I let her know that I was going to be near her office the whole week, which was a lie, and that if she had time, I would stop by. I wanted to see her as soon as possible, but I also didn't want to alarm her by telling her it was urgent. I hit the send button quickly before I wrote another fib, and then crossed my fingers for luck. Hopefully, rekindling my friendship with Sandy would help me put together a few pieces of this puzzle.

By the time I was through with my research, it was past my bedtime. I crawled in bed, once again cuddling with Brian's t-shirt. It still had a faint residue of his scent, but in another day or so, it would probably smell sour.

At least I could enjoy it for tonight and have another good night of sleep.