First Lie Wins(25)

Just as I cross the border into Texas, which is the halfway point between Lake Forbing and Glenview, I mentally retrieve that typed page of information I was given about Ryan and the business located here.


Glenview Trucking was established in 1985 by Ryan’s grandfather, William Sumner. William’s son, Scott, joined the business after he returned home from college in 1989. At inception, the business was a legitimate enterprise that served the East Texas and North Louisiana area.

It still operates in its original capacity but in the late 90s, the business model expanded to include brokerage services for stolen goods. It is believed that currently two out of every three trucks that arrive are transporting items bound for the black market. While the illegal side of the business is vastly more profitable, Glenview Trucking is an invaluable front that must be maintained.

Ryan took over operations after his grandmother, Ingrid Sumner, was diagnosed with cancer and his grandfather became her full-time caregiver but limited his on-site involvement to one day a week—Thursdays. Ryan has done an impressive job of keeping the company in Texas separate from his life in Lake Forbing, LA, just as his grandfather and father had done before him.

*Opinion based on research but have no hard evidence to support—Ryan seems to make every effort to maintain the business his grandfather started, and his father worked at until his death in 2004, in Glenview. I believe this business is immensely important to him and he will protect it at all costs.



My last job was unusual in the sense that I knew immediately I was sent to retrieve sensitive information that was being used as blackmail against Victor Connolly, but normally there is a lag between when I get the name of the mark and when I get my first set of instructions. I use that time to dig deep into every aspect of the mark’s life so I’m prepared when the time comes to get to work. While I’m waiting to see what the job is, I try to predict what the client hired us to do, even though I never know who the client is.

So that’s what I did when I got the name: Ryan Sumner.

At first glance, the financial services business, and its long client list of old ladies with their oil and gas royalty checks, seemed to be the obvious answer. But the more I learned about that part of Ryan’s life, the less it seemed likely. There wasn’t anyone on his client list who caught my eye as the reason I’m here.

There’s always the chance the mark is just a means to get close to one of their friends, but it didn’t take long to rule that out as a possibility either. Ryan’s friends may be the type to cheat on their golf game, their spouse, or their taxes, but that’s the extent of their bad behavior.

But when I looked into the trucking business in Glenview, I knew that’s why I had been sent here. It’s impressive what Ryan has been able to do in the last six years. He took what was a two-bit operation and turned it into a lucrative enterprise with a reputation of white-glove service that has clients across the country. While there is still the occasional truckload of stolen Xbox and PlayStation consoles that roll through his place, he’s transitioned the business to moving more upscale merchandise and to the procurement of specialty items by request. He has become the concierge of the black market.

Basically, Ryan is a thief, just like me.

My first set of instructions verified my suspicions when I learned his trucking business had become profitable enough that it was targeted for a hostile takeover—not the first time I’ve had an assignment like this.

And while helping the client facilitate the takeover of Ryan’s business may have been what brought me here, my objective has shifted now that Mr. Smith has brought an impostor on the scene. The needs of the unknown client are now irrelevant to me. I’m going back over everything to discover why Mr. Smith chose Ryan Sumner and this job to test me.

Just before I arrive at my destination, I stop at an old gas station and pull to the back of the parking lot so I can change. The rental car may be a little out of place in this industrial area, but the disguise is on point. I’ve traded the pencil skirt and loose blouse for a worn pair of baggy Levi’s, a button-down khaki shirt, and a safety vest. My hair is tucked underneath a short wig and baseball cap, while the custom-made silicon facial prosthetics turn my features more masculine. I could pass for a man on his way to work.

I park in the lot for the building next door to Glenview Trucking, then walk toward the chain-link fence that separates this property from Ryan’s. This is only the second time I’ve been here, but I’ve watched countless videos of Ryan while he was working here. The intel I get before making contact is always thorough so I watched as the coat, slacks, and dress shoes he left the house in were quickly replaced with worn jeans, a T-shirt, and scuffed-up boots.

In the videos, he exits the building from the office door located in the corner of the warehouse and walks to the driver’s side of each and every truck that pulls up to the building. The driver rolls down his window and there seems to be an exchange of pleasantries before Ryan retrieves a remote from his pocket to open the bay door.

The structure is large enough that an 18-wheeler can pull into any one of the three oversize roll-up doors that run down the front side of the corrugated metal building, fit completely inside so it can be unloaded in private, and then exit through doors along the back wall. My plan is to enter the enormous building the same way I did the first time I came here.

There’s not as much action today. From the reports, the illegal shipments only come on Thursdays, when Ryan is here to inspect them himself. From the increase in volume over the last couple of years, he’s going to need to add a second day soon to keep up with demand. The legitimate operation brings in far less traffic. Ryan has done a good job keeping both sides of this business separate, and that includes the employees. There’s a skeleton crew here today, and none of these workers are ever present on Thursdays. I should be able to slip in without anyone noticing, since their guard will be substantially lower than that of the guys who are here with Ryan.