Clare leaned forward slightly. “Why do you say that?”
“Hard to explain.” Ingle reflected briefly. “At first he came across as another pro. Talked a lot about how we were in the same business. He said I was too good to be working at such a low level. Made me feel like I was his equal. I knew it wasn’t true but for some reason he actually convinced me that I could become what he was, a serious player.”
“In other words,” Jake said, “he conned you, just like he conned everyone else.”
Ingle’s mouth twisted. “There’s an old saying to the effect that the easiest person to sell to is another salesman.”
“Or, in this case,” Clare said coolly, “the easiest person to scam is another scam artist.”
“I, of course, prefer the term ‘salesman,’” Ingle said.
“I suspect that McAllister was a hypnotist of some kind,” Clare continued. “A powerful one. What do you think?”
“That possibility crossed my mind after I saw how he had dazzled everyone in Stone Canyon, including Archer Glazebrook,” Ingle admitted. “I once asked him about his particular talent.”
“What did he tell you?” Jake asked.
“He claimed he was a sensitive but not a strong one. A four on the Jones Scale. Good with numbers and strategy.”
“Everything he told you was probably a lie,” Clare said. “But what about the things you observed?”
Ingle’s brows crinkled. “I beg your pardon?”
“You’ve been a successful scam artist for several years,” she said. “You obviously have some talent for the business.”
His expression hardened. “What are you implying?”
“Only that you must be a very good observer of human nature.” She injected a note of admiration into her tone. A pro on the opposite side of the fence letting another pro know that she respected his skills. “Don’t tell me what he told you about himself. Tell me what you saw. If you were sizing him up as a prospect for your little investment plan, how would you approach him?”
“Are you kidding?” Ingle uttered a short, harsh laugh. “I wouldn’t have touched him.”
“Why not?”
Ingle gave that a moment of serious reflection. Then he exhaled softly. “Miss Lancaster, my skill lies in being able to discern what a prospect wants most and then convincing that prospect that I can deliver it. But I never did figure out what Brad McAllister wanted. And that’s why I would not have targeted him for any of my investment opportunities. The reason I have survived this long is because I have been very careful when it comes to selecting my, uh, clients.”
Clare was aware that Jake was watching Ingle with the rapt attention of a predator getting ready to go for the throat.
“I would have thought it was obvious what McAllister wanted,” Clare said. “He was after his wife’s inheritance, half of Glazebrook, Inc.”
“I don’t doubt that was his immediate goal,” Ingle agreed. “What I could never figure out was why he wanted it.”
“Money?” Jake asked neutrally.
“McAllister had money, a lot of it,” Ingle said. “If he wanted more, he could have set up another one of his astonishingly successful investment schemes. Trust me when I tell you that in our line he was considered a true artist. He also had a reputation for working alone. Why take on a risky project like going after Glazebrook, Inc.? I mean, think about it. Doping the daughter of a prominent family and trying to convince everyone that she was crazy? Talk about extreme.”
“Yet he got you to assist him,” Clare pointed out.
Ingle winced. “When I look back on it, I still can’t believe I allowed him to drag me into that project. He really must have been a hypnotist. A damned strong one, as you say.”
“There are only a few objectives that would make a guy like McAllister go to all that trouble,” Jake said. “Money, power and love are the top three.”
Ingle nearly choked. “You can forget love as a motivator. Believe me, McAllister didn’t have anything resembling sentimental feelings for anyone.”
“Not even his mother, Valerie Shipley?” Clare asked.
McAllister blinked and turned thoughtful again. “Valerie Shipley was probably the only person on earth McAllister actually trusted. But I wouldn’t go so far as to say that he loved her. She doted on him, however. I’ll admit I’m not a real psychiatrist, but even I could see that she was obsessed with him in a manner that could only be described as unhealthy. She would have done anything for him and McAllister knew it. He used that weakness to manipulate her.”
“We know McAllister had a lover,” Clare said. “A massage therapist who worked at the Secret Springs Day Spa in Phoenix.”
“Doesn’t surprise me that he was screwing someone,” Ingle said. He started to move one hand in a dismissive gesture, caught Jake watching and hurriedly flattened his palm on the desktop again. “But I can guarantee you that he wasn’t in love with her.”
“All right, that brings us back to money and power as motivators,” Clare said.
Ingle met her eyes. “I’m not saying McAllister did not want those things. He certainly did. But I got the impression that he didn’t want Glazebrook, Inc., just because it was a lucrative enterprise. It was more than that. I think he needed the company.”
“Why?” Clare asked.
Ingle shook his head. “Damned if I know. All I can tell you is that there was a lot going on beneath the surface with Brad McAllister. Speaking personally, I was not inclined to look too deeply.”
“When did you start to get nervous?” Clare asked.
“When you came along and it became obvious that things were falling apart. It made me extremely uneasy when I realized that McAllister wasn’t going to do what most people in our profession do under those circumstances.”
Clare understood. “He didn’t shut down the operation and disappear.”
“Exactly,” Ingle said. “When his wife left him and filed for divorce, I thought for sure McAllister would pull the plug. It’s what I would have done. Instead—”
“Instead, what?” Clare prompted.
Ingle made a small, fluttering motion with one elegantly manicured nail. “Well, I won’t say he panicked. He was too much of a pro for that. But he definitely became extremely agitated. He seemed absolutely obsessed with salvaging what was clearly an unsalvageable operation. I know this is going to sound weird, but it was almost as if—”