by C. M. Sutter
“It started when the resident of this house and his cousin who lived about ten minutes from here ended up shot in the head and dumped in my county. We were given permission from Chief Robert Ortega of the fourth district PD to follow the leads into Milwaukee. The cash that may be counterfeit was an added surprise.”
“What makes you think it’s counterfeit, Lieutenant?”
“The fact that the resident of this home had a combination of acetone, bleach, and peroxide stains on his clothing when he was found. We have surveillance tapes of him purchasing five gallons of bleach, and the house has been gutted of everything except the furniture. Strangely enough, whoever took those precautions forgot to clean out the Buick.”
The agents gave each other a sideways glance as Jack led them to the trunk of the car.
“We found three zipper bags full of older cash under the spare tire. I’m guessing the resident of this house found a way to keep a little juice for himself on the side. Your department is in charge of testing that money to see if it’s counterfeit or not, but the fact that the bagged cash is dated prior to 1990 could be a dead giveaway. We didn’t open the bags, though, so all we actually saw were the surface bills. If the man who lived here was the person in charge of the bleaching process, I’m guessing there could be chemical residue in the trunk of this car.”
“Our forensic team is en route, and they’ll take the vehicle to the city garage to give it a thorough inspection.” Agent Brennan tipped his head toward the house. “No other residents?”
“None that we know of.”
“Looks like you did a little damage to the door.”
Jack rubbed his shoulder. “And to myself.”
“No problem. I’ll have someone come and board it up. As of now, this property is under our jurisdiction.”
“That works for us.” Jack shook Agent Brennan’s hand and exchanged cards with him.
We watched as they put the bags of cash into a briefcase held open by one of the agents.
“I guess your role here is complete, Lieutenant Steele. Thanks for your help, each one of you,” Agent Brennan said.
Jack nodded, and we said our goodbyes then crossed the street to our cars. “Let’s head back to North Bend. Now we can direct our focus on finding Charlie Dupree and Joe Tantor’s killer.”
Chapter 21
Grant and McKinley watched as the furniture truck pulled out onto the highway. “Is everyone gone now?” McKinley asked.
“Yeah, they were the last of the deliveries for the day. Let’s sit and have a beer, then we’ll get the cash. How are you liking that new hot rod of yours?”
“The Alpina? It’s a strong car and fast yet luxurious.”
“So I guess you like it, then?” Grant grinned.
“I love it, and feel free to buy something else once this gold mine is up and running.”
“I’ve been looking online for a sports car.”
“Get something fast that will throw you back in your seat. What are your income projections for Shooters?”
“I’d go out on a limb and say a few million a year. Of course, this year will be a loss with the renovations and décor, but after that, look out.”
“Everything is a business write-off, Grant. It’ll be fine. Don’t forget, the real money goes under the cash box, and the counterfeit is given back in change. Every hour, take the real money and put it in the safe. Who’s in charge of the registers?”
“Donny, Drake, and I will be manning the registers during the opening weekend. After that, I’ll rotate everyone’s schedules and include Lori, Bonnie, and Trish too. If we can’t trust our own family, we can’t trust anyone. None of the cooks or waitstaff will ever have access to the cash.”
“That’s perfect.”
Grant came around the bar with two frothy mugs of beer. “Here’s to Shooters, Pop.”
The men clanked the heavy glass mugs together and tipped them back.
“Come on. Let’s get those registers filled up. I hope that safe is an under-the-floor one.”
“Of course it is, and I’m the only one who knows it exists other than the guy who installed it. Come and take a look. The access to it is beneath the false floor and under that rug behind my desk. Nobody can see anything from the door that opens into the office.”
McKinley entered the office and stepped around the desk. “Nice work. You covered all your tracks.”
“You taught me well, Pop.”
Grant closed the office door, and the men walked outside.
“I’ll back up the car to the building.” McKinley climbed into his BMW and shifted into reverse.
When the car was several feet from the door, Grant raised his hand. “That’s good, Dad.”
McKinley stepped out of the Alpina and popped the trunk lid.
Grant took a deep whiff. “I’ve always loved the smell of a new car.”
“Yeah, it smells like money.”
The men pulled out ten thousand dollars from the tire well then replaced the spare and screwed the bolt down tight. Inside the bar, Grant filled the three registers and placed the rest of the cash in the safe.
“Frank said he’d transfer five grand of real money into each of the offshore shell accounts every week. In his opinion, the counterfeit cash will move so fast nobody will be able to track it back to the bar. I sure hope he’s right.”
“Everything will be fine, Grant. Frank will make sure of it. Now, lock up this place and follow me. Dinner is on your old man.”
Chapter 22
I rode shotgun on the drive back to North Bend and glanced at the time—5:40 p.m. It seemed as if the entire day was spent in Milwaukee, and now as we headed back to Washburn County, I felt no sense of accomplishment.
“Want to share what’s on the gerbil wheel?” Kate asked.
“Maybe the gerbil is napping.” I glanced over my shoulder.
“Doubt it. I’m psychic, remember?”
I huffed my anxiety. “Okay, we did learn something, I guess. Charlie and Joe were cousins, so in all likelihood, they could have been partners in crime.”
Jack nodded. “Good, keep going.”
“And we found nothing at Charlie’s house that indicated counterfeiting. He was just a common criminal. Crap.”
“What?” Jack jerked his head toward me.
“We didn’t tell Chief Ortega what was found inside Charlie’s house.”
“Not a big deal. I’ll take care of it when I sit down at my desk. So, keep going with your thoughts.” Jack changed lanes to get out of the line of fire of the gravel truck ahead of us.
“Okay, so Charlie is a common criminal, Joe was probably”—I made air quotes around the word probably—“the person that bleached money for the counterfeiting ring, and they were both murdered. That’s telling me Charlie was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Joe could have done something to piss off the boss, and Charlie just happened to be with him—a hit of sorts where they had to take out both men.”
“Humph, that version makes sense,” Kate said.
Jack spoke up. “Remind me to ask Forensics about Charlie’s clothing. We already know what was on Joe’s, but I’m wondering if any chemical residue was found on the younger cousin’s clothes too. The only reason we know anything about the chemicals at all is because of the bleach stain.”
I jotted down a few things as Jack drove. Our ideas could disappear like a refreshing summer breeze if they weren’t on paper. I’d learned that the hard way.
We took the exit ramp off the highway and waited to turn at the stop light on Washington Street. I glanced nonchalantly at my surroundings, the town I was born and raised in, the town that made me the person I was. I looked ahead then to my left and noticed a man staring at our car through his windshield. He sat at the red light on Washington, ready to turn onto the freeway entrance ramp.
“What the hell?”
“What?” Jack said. The car behind us honked when the light turned green. “Tell me what’s wrong, Amber.”
>
I spun in my seat and looked through the rear window as the car disappeared up the ramp. “It’s the Alpina that drove past Joe’s house.”
Jack turned east at the intersection then pulled into the parking lot of Hankerson’s Country Oven. “How do you know that for sure?”
“Because nobody has them—they’re too expensive—and it’s the same dark-blue color as the one I saw earlier. I’ve never seen an Alpina in person and now twice on the same day, in two different cities? Those odds are nearly impossible.”
“Did you get the plate number?”
“Not on that car. They move too fast, and we weren’t at the right angle to see it.” I scribbled a reminder to myself to have Tech check out the names of BMW Alpina owners who lived in Wisconsin. “Go ahead. There’s nothing we can do about it now. It isn’t illegal to have that kind of money.”
We reached the sheriff’s office a few minutes later. I waited for Clayton to exit his vehicle. “Chad, remember that Alpina I was jonesing after today when it drove past Joe’s house?”
“That blue BMW?”
“Yeah, that one.”
“Sure, I remember. You nearly had a heart attack over it. Why?”
“I just saw it again. Doesn’t that seem odd?”
He shrugged. “I see a lot of Altimas that look the same. Maybe it was a different one.”
“Never mind. You guys don’t get it.” When we passed through the vestibule, I excused myself. “I want to talk to Billy and Todd.”
Jack pulled up his sleeve. “They’ve probably left for the night, Amber. It’s after six.”
“The night shift guys are there. This should only take a few minutes.”
The group headed for the stairs, and I turned down the hallway that led to our tech department. Inside, Luke Barnes sat at his computer across the room.
“Hey, Luke, you’re just the person I was looking for.”
He smiled. “As opposed to nobody else? Lee is out with the flu.”
“That sucks.”
“What can I help you with? Having someone to talk to will brighten up my night.”
“Sorry, but my request will only take a minute. We have a pressing case to work on upstairs.”
“Sure, go ahead.” Luke jiggled the computer’s mouse and placed the cursor over the search bar.
“I need to know every Wisconsin owner of a late-model dark-blue BMW Alpina B7.”
He smiled. “You’ve got that description nailed down. What, no interior color?”
I laughed. “I wasn’t that quick. Sorry.”
“Okay, time to work my magic.” Luke pulled up the statewide DMV site and typed the car’s description into the search bar. “I imagine if you had a plate number, you would have mentioned it.”
“That would be correct.” I leaned over his shoulder as the site pulled up the information.
“No luck in Wisconsin, Amber. That car is only available to select dealerships in major cities. Are you sure it’s a B7?”
“Yeah, I saw the badge on the back. So unless I have the registration information, we’re dead in the water?”
“Exactly. The owner could have purchased it in LA or Chicago and had it delivered to him, but we don’t know who we’re looking for.”
“Yeah, I understand. Okay, thanks, anyway.” I patted Luke on the shoulder and left the tech department. I joined the group upstairs and took my usual seat in the conference room.
Jack entered a few seconds after me. “Okay, I forwarded our findings in Charlie’s house to Chief Ortega.” He tipped his chin in my direction. “Any luck?”
“Nope, the car is so new in the United States, they’re only available at select dealerships. It doesn’t look like any were allocated to Wisconsin.”
“Let’s set that aside for the moment. The only way to track the killer is to learn more about Charlie Dupree and Joe Tantor. We need Joe’s full jacket. Maybe cross-referencing his information with Charlie’s will give us something.” Jack reached for the landline phone and dialed Luke. “Luke, it’s Jack. I need you to pull the entire police file on a man named Joseph Philip Tantor out of Milwaukee. Call me back when you have it.” He hung up then looked at me. “We haven’t received Lena’s autopsy information yet, have we?”
None of us had that answer, and I was sure it was only a rhetorical question on Jack’s part. He called downstairs and got Lena on the phone.
“Lena, it’s Jack. What’s up with the autopsy reports?” He paused while she spoke. “You did? Sorry, we’ve been out all day. Okay, thanks. I’ll check them out right now.” Jack hung up and shook his head. “I must be losing it. She said the reports are on my desk.”
I pushed back my chair and stood. “Not a problem. I’ll get them.”
Chapter 23
Grant and McKinley were led to a quiet area at the back of the restaurant. The conversation between father and son would be out of earshot of customers sitting on the other side of the large built-in aquarium.
The hostess placed a pitcher of water on the table and took their drink order—two glasses of Laphroaig, neat.
Grant waited until she walked away before speaking. He set the menu aside and rested his elbows on the table. “What’s up, Pop? You don’t seem quite as enthusiastic as you did an hour ago.”
McKinley shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
Grant stared. “Clearly, it is. We don’t keep secrets in this family. It’ll lead to problems down the road. Now, tell me what’s going on. You know Frank and I can fix anything.” Grant poured water in both glasses and set the pitcher down. He made a quick scan of the area.
McKinley sighed. “The guys think I’m becoming paranoid.”
“Are you, and why would you be?”
“You aren’t going to like what I’m about to say, not one bit.”
“Hold that thought for a second, Pop.”
The waitress approached their table with a smile and two rocks glasses of Laphroaig. “Here you go, gentlemen. Are you ready to order?”
Grant spoke up. “Give us ten minutes, please.”
She walked away, they each took a sip of the smoky whiskey, and Grant waited for McKinley to begin.
“I don’t want a scene, Grant.”
“Jesus, Dad, can you please get on with it?”
“Fine, Joe is dead.”
“What the hell? How did that happen?”
“He told me his piece-of-shit cousin saw the paper when he was loading it in his car. The punk actually wanted to meet me.”
“Because?”
McKinley huffed as he leaned forward across the table, inches from Grant’s face. “Because he wanted to blackmail us. He actually said he would be running the show from that point forward or he’d turn us in.”
“Son of a bitch, Dad, then what happened?”
“Then I shot them both dead. Juan and Derek got rid of the bodies.”
“Got rid of the bodies? Why weren’t they tossed into the incinerator?”
“I don’t know—I couldn’t think at the time. I told them to get rid of them, and they did.”
“Yeah, where to?”
McKinley took two swallows of whiskey.
“Pop, I asked you a question. Where did they dump the bodies?”
“I didn’t ask for specifics. All I know is that they said it was thirty miles north of the warehouse.”
“Are you telling me they dumped two bodies in Washburn County, where I’m about to open the hottest nightclub that area has ever seen? What the hell is wrong with you people? Screw dinner.” Grant downed his whiskey in one long gulp and slammed the empty glass on the table’s surface. “I’ve just lost my appetite. I have to talk to Juan and Derek right now.” Grant stood, threw a fifty on the table, and left the restaurant with McKinley on his heels.
“Grant, wait up.”
“I can’t talk to you right now. I’m too pissed off.” Grant clicked the fob and opened his driver’s-side door.
“I didn’t have a choice. I had to get
rid of them.”
Grant spun on his heels. “There’s always a choice, Dad. That’s been our family motto since I was a kid. Apparently, you gave that choice to our minions, two piece-of-shit thugs who work for us. They aren’t family, and they don’t make our decisions. Now you’ve created a huge problem. Have the bodies been found?”
“Yes.”
“That’s just great, old man.” Grant climbed into his vehicle and sped away. He called the warehouse as he drove. “Juan, it’s Grant. I’m on my way in, and at some point tonight, you and I are having a private conversation. It may have to take place later since the old man is right on my ass. Open the overhead so we can pull in.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll follow your lead, and I’m lifting the garage door right now.”
Seconds later, Grant pulled in with McKinley on his rear bumper. There weren’t many vehicles that could move faster than the Alpina. The conversation between Grant and Juan would be saved for later.
Grant pulled in and parked. McKinley squealed his brakes behind him and climbed out.
“We haven’t finished our conversation, Grant.”
“Yes, we have. I’m only here to check on production, and I want more tens to put in the safe.” Grant approached Royce. “How’s the process coming along now that the bleaching is being done here?”
“Better, but we need more equipment. I mentioned purchasing ten extra printers to your dad yesterday.”
“And?”
“And he agreed it was a good idea.”
“What’s going on over here?”
Royce nodded when McKinley approached them. “We’re discussing the printers, Mr. Moore.”
“Yes, the printers. I think I’ll join Royce and Derek on that errand. We can drop off the money and buy printers in Illinois. Set that up for tomorrow, Royce.”
“Of course, and we’ll make the purchases at different electronics stores on the way back. We don’t want to raise any red flags.”
Grant smirked. “Too late for that.”
Chapter 24
When I entered the room with two autopsy reports, Jack looked up. “Thanks, Amber.”