Moose charges into the kitchen with me on his heels.
“You!” Moose points at Marus. “Are you the sonofabitch who thinks he’s a goddamned genie and has been breaking into her house?”
Marus stands there in his blue Oxford, arms crossed over his broad chest, cool as a cucumber. “You think I’m crazy.” He looks straight at me.
I rush between him and Moose. “No. I mean, yes? Maybe a little. But can you blame me?”
“Dude,” Moose roars, “I’m gonna break your fuckin’ arms if you come anywhere near her again.”
Marus scratches his beard, arches a brow in my general direction, as if to say I’m a huge disappointment. “I’ve never claimed to be anything, Ginnie, other than generous.” He turns and heads for the back door. “I’ll have the money wired to your account. Good luck.”
“Wait! I’m sorry. I meant you’re crazy in a good way!” I try to go after him, but Moose rushes me and blocks the doorway.
“What the hell is going on, Ginnie?”
“I’m—he—I…fuck.” I drop my hands. “I can’t explain right now. Move!”
Moose slams the back door shut. “And don’t even think of going for the front door. I’m not letting you anywhere near that psycho.”
I huff with frustration. “I can’t explain any of this in a way that won’t sound completely insane.”
“What money is he talking about? Did he do something to you? Is he trying to pay you off?”
“No. Nothing like that. He’s just a man who likes to do things for people.”
“What does he want in return?”
“Nothing. It’s, like, his thing. He helps people who find his bottle.” I press my hands to my face and push out a quick breath. “I know it sounds crazy, but he’s not crazy. And stop judging me.” I drop my hands.
“Olivia told me this guy’s been watching you, coming in your house, spying on you, and playing pranks with that damned bottle. She sent me over here because she says you’re buying into whatever scam he’s running.”
“Scam?” I snap.
“Yeah. I read about these con men all the time, Gin. They tell you they’re going to change your life and give you stuff, help you out, send you money—whatever. Then, once they’ve earned your trust, they clean you out. Happens all the time.”
“He doesn’t want anything, Moose.”
“Everybody wants something, Ginnie. Thought you’d figured that out after Greg.”
“Stop throwing Greg in my face, okay? I know I made a mistake, but Marus is different.” I hope.
Moose shakes his head. “Get a restraining order. Don’t let him in your house. Don’t talk to him again.”
I scoff. Moose has always been like a brother. A big, dopy, overprotective brother. I love him like family. I do. But… “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I don’t see how any of this is your business, Nolan.” Nolan is his real name, and he knows I mean business when I use it.
“I’m not letting that fucking lunatic anywhere near you, Gin. I’m staying until I know he’s gone for good.”
My phone beeps on the counter. A text. I pick up my cell and look at the screen. “Shit.” I shut my eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Moose grabs the phone and reads the message.
I snatch my cell back. “You still think he’s a con man? Because that ‘crazy asshole’ just deposited five million dollars into my account.”
“But—is that real?” Moose’s mouth flaps.
“Yes!”
“Who is that guy? Is it drug money? Is he using you to launder dirty money?”
“No, Moose.”
“But people just don’t go around giving away cash like that.”
“Mr. Wish does.” I shake my head. “Stay. Go. Do whatever you want, but I have to leave.”
I need to find him and give the money back. I just hope he’ll forgive me.
Chapter Fifteen
“What do you mean I can’t return the funds?” I ask the bank manager, a short skinny man in his fifties, wearing a red tie, who’s looking at me like I’m insane for trying to get rid of so much money.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Angelico, but the outgoing account only shows the wire came from a bank in Switzerland. You can try calling them and seeing if they’ll give you information about the origin of the funds, but we can’t merely hit a return-to-sender button.”
I sigh. He doesn’t know that I already tried calling right after the money came in. I received an email from that same bank with a statement attached, showing the actual amount sent was somewhere around eight million dollars, three of which were sent to the IRS on my behalf. As to how Marus got my social security number, I don’t know, but I’ve learned he’s a man with many tricks. And allies. When I called to tell the Swiss bank that the transfer was a mistake and they needed to take it all back, I got some after-hours-manager guy who basically laughed at me. He said they’re legally bound to protect their clients’ privacy and blah, blah, blah, Swiss-accent-bank-snob, blah, blah. Then he hung up.