Page 8 of Unlocked

Jason lifted his glass and finished the wine. "I lost a lot of money. And not just mine."

Archer's stomach tightened. "Jason," he said carefully, "I can't help you financially."

Jason dropped his head into his hands. "No. No, that's not what I'm asking." He looked up again. "What I am asking is… do you know where they put the money?"

Archer didn't answer right away.

"As head of the Society," Jason continued, "you know things which aren't common knowledge. I just really need the money back."

Archer's stomach tightened further. He felt for Jason. More than he liked to admit. In fact, he felt for all of the people who had invested with those idiots, Vincent Kelly, Richard North, and Timothy Lebowitz. They were all blowhards with far too much money and far too little conscience. Assholes of the worst order, and, much to Archer's regret, all members in good standing in the Society.

He had never liked any of them, but the damage they'd inflicted went far beyond personal dislike. Their Ponzi scheme had reached the highest echelons not only in New York but also in several other major cities, all the way down to retirees whose life savings had vanished in an instant. Although it was only the retirees making noise. No one rich wanted to admit openly they'd lost money. Damaged reputations came with far more consequences.

Archer took a few spoonfuls of his soup.

"Jason," he said, setting the spoon down, "I honestly do not know where that money is. None. And even if I did, I wouldn't be allowed to tell you or do anything about it. You know the rules."

Jason's shoulders sagged. He dropped his head into his hands.

"I'm sorry," Archer said. He was uncomfortable with the other man's grief. There was nothing he could do to fix it, and quite frankly, he didn't want to be any more involved than he already was.

Jason straightened and gave himself a small shake. "It's my fault. I never should have invested with them. I should've known better."

"Obviously, you weren't the only one," Archer said. "Those three assholes hurt a lot of people." The words slipped out before he could stop them. He normally never made mistakes like that. Wine, he thought, but he'd only had a couple of sips. Fatigue, maybe. Or possibly he was simply losing his ability to give a damn.

"I know," Jason said. "I know. But honestly, that doesn't really help."

"No," Archer agreed. "I'm sure it doesn't. How much did you lose?"

"Everything. I lost everything," Jason said. "At this point, I have no savings. My wife, the kids… The only blessing is that the house is already paid off. We're living paycheck to paycheck. And don't get me wrong, my paychecks are great as an investment banker, but because of the Ponzi scheme, I might lose my job. The debate is ongoing."

He rubbed his face. "The only upside is I wasn't the only broker who invested. Most of them did. Even the top tier. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but even the board was involved. There isn't anyone at the firm who wasn't touched to some degree."

Archer listened without interrupting.

"What works in my favor," Jason continued, "is that I was reluctant at first, one of the few who hesitated. Another member of the board pushed me. I was smart enough to document it."

Corporate duplicity didn't surprise Archer. Being pressured from the top and then hung out to dry was practically a daily occurrence. Jason had been smart to keep proof that the decision hadn't been his.

"The real issue," Jason said quietly, "is that it's going to take years to rebuild the money and the trust of my clients. My top clients. Having that money back would go a long way toward securing my future."

He laughed without humor. "I feel like I'm twenty-two again, just starting out. I'm forty-three. Twenty-one years in, and I don't want to start over. I need that money. My kids will be going to college soon, and I don't have the money to pay for it anymore."

A young busboy cleared the soup bowls away as Jean-Pierre placed two plates on the table, announcing the dish as some sort of bouillabaisse. Archer caught the gist. His French was excellent, but Jean-Pierre had a habit of getting fast and loose with details. The food looked good regardless. Jean-Pierre pressed his fingertips to his lips in a chef’s kiss gesture, then disappeared again.

Normally, red wine with fish would have raised an eyebrow, but Archer trusted Jean-Pierre. He took a bite. It was excellent. The wine paired perfectly. If only his dinner companion weren't so completely wrecked.

"Can you help me in any way? Is there anything you can do?" Jason asked, desperation creeping back into his voice.

Archer chose his words carefully. "What I can do, Jason, is this; If any information comes to me that I'm able to share about the money, or about future investments, I will. But only if it falls within the rules of the Society. I have to abide by them."

Hope flared in Jason's eyes.

Archer immediately lost his appetite.

He hadn't meant to give the man false hope. The odds were slim, very slim. But as cruel as it felt, Archer needed Jason's support as a board member. If a little hope helped Jason hang on, then Archer would live with it. He didn't have to like it.

Jason tucked into his fish, energized now, and the rest of the meal passed in polite conversation.