Greed: An Amber Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1

Home > Mystery > Greed: An Amber Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1 > Page 5
Greed: An Amber Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1 Page 5

by C. M. Sutter

I shrugged. It had sounded like a logical thing to say at the time. “I don’t know. I guess North Bend has everything one would need, and oh yeah, Joey’s old bar and grill is reopening in a few days under new management.”

  Jack gave me the eyeballs.

  “What?”

  “You’re okay going in there?”

  “It’s been a while, and it won’t look the same as before. If it did, I doubt I’d go back. The write-up in the paper said it had gone through a complete remodel and would be the newest hot spot in Washburn County, with live music twice a week.”

  “That sounds like fun. We should check it out,” Kate said.

  I looked over my left shoulder. “That’s the plan.” I turned back to Jack. “Want to tag along and see how it looks?”

  “Maybe. Depends on how quickly you deputies solve this case.” He gave me a sideways grin. “I think the station is only a few blocks more.”

  I looked out the window. “Yeah, this neighborhood doesn’t look too inviting, though, does it?”

  Kate spoke up. “Check out your left window. We have to be close. That policeman has a car pulled over across the street.”

  I glanced out briefly as we passed and saw an officer standing at the driver’s-side window of a tan car. Suddenly I heard two pops. “What the hell was that?”

  Kate turned in the backseat and looked out the rear window. “Son of a bitch, that cop is down.”

  “Shit!” Jack hit the brakes. The car skidded sideways and bounced off the median. He cranked the steering wheel to the right to pull in the back wheels so we wouldn’t hit cars alongside us. Jack engaged the sirens and lights. “Amber, call Clayton and tell him to get to the station and let them know what happened. Kate, call 911 and tell them there’s an officer down in need of an ambulance. Give them the location and say that we’re in pursuit of a tan sedan.”

  I made the call then looked over the seat. I could barely see the squad car behind us. “Can you see the officer, Kate?”

  “Yes, and he’s still on the ground, but the car that was pulled over is gone.”

  “Shit.” Jack gunned the cruiser to the next set of lights and made a U-turn into the westbound lanes. We heard sirens heading our way. When we reached the officer’s side, Jack slammed on the brakes. “Kate, jump out and stay with him until the EMTs arrive. Amber and I need to find that car. Have Clayton and Billings meet you here.”

  “Got it.”

  The second Kate stepped to the pavement and closed the door behind her, Jack hit the gas. He slowed at every intersection while I craned my neck and looked at every parked car.

  “I don’t see them.” I called in a BOLO for a tan sedan and gave our approximate location. We had nothing more to go on than that.

  Jack pounded his fist on the steering wheel. “There’s an entire city surrounding us, and we don’t have a plate number, a description of the driver, and no clue where they went.”

  “The plate number will show up on the squad car’s dash cam.”

  “That’s right. Call Kate and tell her to make sure she tells the officers to check the footage immediately when they arrive. We need that plate number and fast or the BOLO is useless.”

  Chapter 11

  Juan jerked his head over his left shoulder and stared into the backseat. “Why the hell did you shoot that cop?”

  “The bastard wanted to look in the trunk. Maybe you shouldn’t have seemed so damn suspicious for crisssakes! I’ve got two oversized thugs in the front seat, tatted beyond what’s necessary, and the cop pulls us over for a disabled brake light. Then Marco decided to be confrontational with him. Why the hell did you do that?”

  “He didn’t like our faces. He was already unsnapping his holster the minute he got to the window. He needed to do that for a lousy brake light? What the hell?”

  “You must have looked guilty. Why do you think he wanted us to get out of the car?”

  Juan groaned into his hands. “Yeah, guilty of having thirty grand of fake money in the trunk.”

  “Marco, backtrack to the warehouse on side streets. This car needs to disappear.” McKinley pulled out his phone and called Derek. “Hurry and open the overhead. We had a problem, and we’re headed back. We’ll be there in three minutes.” McKinley clicked off. “This vehicle needs to be dismantled today. Our only saving grace is that the plates are stolen.”

  “Do you have any idea what the penalty is for shooting a cop? I didn’t sign up for this.”

  McKinley snarled at Juan. “As a matter of fact, I do. Do you know what the penalty is for counterfeiting? That’s also a federal crime, and it’s something my family has done for years. If I go down, I’ll make sure everyone goes down with me. Now, back to the problem at hand. We’ll tear down the car and hope to hell the cop dies or already has. If word of this leaks out to anyone and the cops come knocking, I’ll shoot both of you myself. Understood?”

  Marco nodded as he drove through the open warehouse garage door. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll handle any questions, so keep your mouths shut. You get paid to obey, not to talk.” McKinley climbed out of the backseat and yelled to Derek, “Pull that garage door down.”

  “What happened?”

  McKinley waved him away. “Car problems. This Chevy is a piece of shit. Unload the trunk, then I want that car chopped down to nothing today.”

  Chapter 12

  “They’re in the wind, Jack. I haven’t seen a single tan sedan since we began searching. I think we should go back.”

  Jack nodded. “Call Clayton and tell him we’re on our way. Find out if they went to the station or if they’re still at the scene.”

  “Yes, sir.” I dialed Clayton’s cell, and he answered right away. I heard plenty of chatter in the background. “Clayton, where are you?”

  “At the scene with the EMTs, Kate, and about ten officers from the fourth district precinct. He was one of theirs.”

  “Was?”

  “He passed, Amber. The kid was a rookie, only on the force for eight months, and wasn’t wearing a vest. He took two rounds center mass.”

  “Oh my God.” I looked at Jack and shook my head. “Okay, we’re heading back. We never caught up with that vehicle. Did anyone pull the plate number off the dash cam video?” I heard Clayton sigh and knew that meant trouble.

  “Yeah, and the plates were registered to a 2010 Volkswagen Beetle. According to the dash cam, they were able to identify the suspect’s car as a Chevy.”

  “Shit. We can change the BOLO from a tan sedan to a tan Chevy sedan in the vicinity of Silver Spring between I-43 and Highway 41, but the chances of it being out and about now are pretty slim. I’m sure they crawled back into the same hole they came from.”

  “Sounds about right.”

  “We’ll be there in five.” I clicked off the call and pocketed my phone. “Damn it, I don’t even remember why we were headed here anymore.”

  Jack gave me a pair of raised brows. “You okay, Amber?”

  “Yeah, just shocked.”

  “Understandable, but you can’t let this interrupt your focus, deputy. Milwaukee’s finest will take care of their own. It’s what a good team of officers do. This isn’t our jurisdiction, and the only reason we know anything at all is because we were passing by right as the shots were fired. It was purely coincidental. In the light of what just happened, we need to tread lightly, though. I’ll speak to the second in command, and hopefully they’ll allow us access to Charlie Dupree’s file.”

  “Oh yeah, Charlie Dupree.” I rolled my tense shoulders.

  “With their permission, we’ll conduct that investigation on our own and go to Charlie’s last known address. Maybe the neighbors know where he moved. They may even recognize the blond guy’s photograph too.”

  “Charlie Dupree seems so insignificant now.”

  Jack gave me a stern look. “Deputy Monroe, two men were murdered and dumped in our county. We don’t know why they were killed, but nobody deserves to be shot in the head and thro
wn in a ditch. It’s our duty to bring whoever did this to justice.”

  “Sorry I blurted that out. I didn’t mean it.”

  Jack turned left onto Silver Spring, drove six blocks, and parked on the opposite side of the street from where the shooting had taken place. The westbound lanes were closed to through traffic and redirected elsewhere. The ambulance had already left. All that remained was the slain officer’s squad car and markers where he had fallen to his death. Black uniforms filled the sidewalk and spilled out onto the street. Some officers huddled together wearing shocked expressions, others loudly cursed their frustration, and still others did another search of the sidewalk, curb, and street where the officer’s body had fallen. The forensic team snapped picture after picture within a fifty-foot area of the police tape.

  Jack and I approached the group that Clayton, Billings, and Kate were talking to. Clayton made the introductions between Chief Robert Ortega and ourselves. We offered our condolences and explained that our search for the car had turned up nothing.

  “They were too far ahead of us by the time we were able to turn around and pursue them,” Jack said. “We immediately put out a BOLO on the vehicle, but it sounds like the plates won’t help the search.”

  “Unfortunately not,” the chief said. “They were stolen.”

  I spoke up even though it wasn’t necessarily my place, but nobody seemed to mind. “Did the dash cam give you any clues?”

  Chief Ortega responded. “I didn’t look at it yet myself, but Officer Meadows said there appeared to be three men in the vehicle, two in the front and one in the back. Something about their appearance, conversation, or behavior caused Officer Jacobs to unsnap his holster.”

  “The camera caught that?” Billings asked.

  “Yes, so something sent up a red flag with him.”

  “Did he call in his intentions before exiting the squad car?” Clayton asked.

  “No, and a grave mistake on his part. All we can go by, according to the video, was that the left brake light was out. We’re assuming that’s why he pulled them over.”

  “Certainly nothing that would warrant being shot,” Kate said.

  Jack rubbed his chin. “Was the dash cam able to catch the shooter?”

  “Strangely enough, it appeared to be the man in the backseat.”

  “That’s very unusual, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “I don’t know of any cases personally where that’s happened. Again, I appreciate your efforts on this, now if you’ll excuse me.”

  Jack spoke up. “One more thing, if you have a minute. I know the reason we’re here is the last thing on your mind given the circumstances. Is there someone else we can talk to in light of this tragedy? I realize your hands are full.”

  “Ah, yes, I totally forgot about speaking to you earlier, Lieutenant Steele.” He pointed up the street. “Our precinct is three blocks farther east. Inside, ask for Bill Sebring. He’s one of our desk sergeants, and he can help you with anything you need.”

  “I don’t want to step on toes. Do you mind if we talk to the neighbors where Charlie Dupree used to live?”

  “You have carte blanche on this one. Your team helped us out today, and you have my personal gratitude. Feel free to pursue your case any way you like.”

  “Thank you, Chief, and again, you have our condolences,” Jack said.

  We shook the chief’s hand, exchanged cards, and returned to our cruisers. Then we followed Clayton to the precinct.

  Minutes later, the sign near the sidewalk revealed that we had arrived. Jack turned in, and I immediately noticed that the parking lot was empty of patrol cars. I felt sad. We pulled into two visitor spaces, parked, and entered at the front of the building.

  Inside, Jack took the lead and spoke to the female officer behind the glass wall at the visitors’ counter. “Hello, I’m Lieutenant Jack Steele with the Washburn County Sheriff’s Office. These are two of our detectives and two of our deputies.” He pulled out his badge, and we followed suit. “We just spoke with Chief Ortega about a case we’re working on, and he said we should ask for Desk Sergeant Bill Sebring.”

  “Certainly, Lieutenant Steele. I’ll give him a call.”

  We waited only a minute then heard a door open and close. A friendly looking uniformed man approached our group and greeted us.

  “I’m Bill Sebring. How can I help you?”

  “Lieutenant Jack Steele here with the Washburn County Sheriff’s Office. These detectives and deputies are part of my team.”

  We gave Bill a handshake and called out our names.

  Jack continued. “We’re here to take a look at the file belonging to Charlie Dupree. Seems he fell on hard times and got a bullet to the head. He was found in our county yesterday just after lunchtime with another man who still hasn’t been identified. A reliable tip came in that gave us his name. We confirmed his last known address to be in the North Sixtieth and West Villard area, but we have reason to believe he’s moved since then. We’d appreciate your letting us take a look at his police jacket to see if there’s any more current information we can gather from it.”

  “Sure, follow me. Every name with a jacket is filed alphabetically in the records room. It’ll only take a minute to pull.”

  “Sorry about Officer Jacobs,” I said.

  Bill let out a long puff of air and shook his head. “You heard about that?”

  “Yes, and you have Washburn County’s condolences.”

  “I sure hope we catch the bastard who took him out. I don’t know all of the details yet, but it sounded like an unprovoked shooting. I can’t begin to understand the mind of a killer.” Bill unlocked the door to the records room. “Come on in. There are plenty of seats in here.”

  He walked to the wall of filing cabinets and stopped at the fourth one. They contained surnames that began with D. It made sense that he opened the bottom drawer since Charlie’s last name was Dupree. I watched as he flipped the files until he found the right one. Bill pulled it out and placed it on the table.

  “Help yourself to the copy machine if you need to print out the sheets. You can leave the file on the table when you’re done. I’ll be in the office next to the front desk.”

  Jack gave him a nod. “Thanks. We appreciate it.”

  Jack opened the thick folder that listed the crimes of Charlie Dupree. He had been arrested plenty of times but nothing that ever gave him more than six months in the city jail. Most of his convictions were for possession of narcotics, petty theft, domestic disturbances, and battery.

  “Quite an upstanding young man,” I said as I read over Jack’s shoulder.

  Jack turned toward me and smirked. “You sounded exactly like Jade when you said that.”

  I smiled. “Guess her wisecracks rub off. We know one thing for sure. Charlie is our dead guy.” I tapped the mug shot attached to his rap sheet. “Are any known associates mentioned?”

  Jack ran down the sheet with his index finger. “Only shows next of kin, which will be helpful in itself.” He tipped his head toward the copy machine and handed the sheet of paper to Billings. “Want to print a copy of this for me, Adam?”

  “Sure thing.”

  I frowned. “That makes me wonder why no family members called us after the TV segment aired.”

  Jack shrugged. “Maybe they’re all in bed by ten o’clock, or they just don’t care. It sounds like Charlie was a real piece of work. Here are a few addresses we might need. Better yet, just copy the entire jacket. That way we won’t miss anything.” Jack handed the folder to Adam.

  “So, what’s first?” Kate asked.

  “We’ll go to his old address and start talking to people in the neighborhood. Amber, walk down to Bill’s office and ask if somebody can pull Charlie’s driver’s license. Maybe he was upstanding enough to get a new one when he moved.”

  I laughed as I headed to the door. “Now who sounds like Jade?” Before I reached Bill’s office, I checked my phone. I hadn’t heard a word from my sister since tha
t return text overnight, and my phone was set on silent when we were speaking to Chief Ortega earlier. I pressed the button to wake up the home screen and saw that a text had come in. With only a few steps left before I would reach Bill’s door, I stopped in the hallway and checked the message.

  Hey, Sis, sorry about the delay. We caught the bad guy, thank God, and he likely won’t ever see the light of day again. In response to your question from last night, I ran it past Spelling. He was at a conference in Virginia. Evidently, he has contacts in the Secret Service, and they said that combination of chemicals is often found in the process of washing paper money in a counterfeiting ring. Keep your eyes peeled for evidence of that. I’ll be home tomorrow afternoon, and you can explain more. Love you!

  “Counterfeiting? What the hell?” My mind was going in a million directions, but I needed to stay focused on the first task—getting a look at Charlie’s most recent driver’s license. We still didn’t know the identity of the blond man, and he was the one with the stains on his jeans, not Charlie.

  I knocked on Bill’s half-open door, and he waved me in.

  “Deputy Monroe, how can I help you?” He pointed at the blue guest chair. “Have a seat.”

  “Thank you. Lieutenant Steele was wondering if somebody could pull up Charlie Dupree’s driver’s license. There may be a chance that he updated it when he moved.” I gave Bill a hopeful smile.

  “Sure, I can do that right from here. You aren’t holding your breath, are you?”

  I knew he was joking, and the likelihood of an irresponsible person like Charlie updating his license was slim at best. “Yeah, I’m definitely breathing normally.” I handed over Charlie’s DL number that Jack had written down from the pages of his police report.

  Bill gave me a wide smile. “Thanks. Okay, let’s see what the DMV site gives me when I punch in his information.”

  I waited quietly on the opposite side of Bill’s desk for his answer.

  “Sorry, no luck. His old address on North Sixtieth Street still shows up.”

  I stood. “Oh well, it was worth a try. Guess we’ll just do some extra legwork in his old neighborhood. Somebody might know something. Thanks for checking.”

 

‹ Prev