Greed: An Amber Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1

by C. M. Sutter

  Fifteen minutes later, the phone in Jack’s office rang, and we watched his expression for some kind of sign.

  “Okay, thanks, Lena.” He hung up and stood in the doorway. “Lena has the body downstairs, and she just fingerprinted him.”

  Jade swatted me aside and took a seat in front of my computer. “I can use my log-in to access IAFIS. Have Lena send the results to Amber’s email right away.”

  “Got it.” Jack called Lena and told her what we needed. He held his hand over the microphone for a second. “She’s sending it now. Tell me when it hits Amber’s in-box.”

  I watched over Jade’s shoulder then pointed. “There. A new email just came in.”

  Jade clicked on the attachment before nodding at Jack. “We have it.”

  I watched as Jade dropped the file Lena sent into the open IAFIS database.

  “If the vic has a record, it’ll show a match pretty quickly,” she said.

  I checked off the last store I had called so I wouldn’t lose my place. “Any recent sales on those printers yet?”

  Everyone shook their heads and continued working.

  “Here we go. We have a hit.” Jade tapped a few keys, and the name and picture of our vic popped up on the screen.

  “No shit! It’s Juan Martinez,” Jack said.

  Jade looked over her shoulder. “You know him?”

  “His prints came back on the gun we found yesterday. The only image we’ve ever seen of him was from his arrest mug shot in 1999. Guess people change quite a bit after eighteen years. I would have never recognized him.”

  “Was it the same gun that killed the two guys in the ditch?”

  “We believe so. Kyle fired off the last two bullets that were in the gun and sent the slugs to the ballistics lab in Madison. The Milwaukee coroner did the same with the slugs removed from Officer Jacobs’s body. We aren’t going to know anything until Monday, though.”

  “Why would Juan Martinez just happen to be at Shooters last night? Don’t forget, Ben Jessup mentioned somebody named Juan as being a known associate of Joe’s. That in itself could be a direct connection with the counterfeiting ring,” I said. “I hate to admit it, but it’s looking like Grant could very well be involved.”

  “He told you his last name was Lowe?” Jade asked.

  “That’s what he said.”

  Jade entered that name in the FBI’s known criminals’ database and found nothing. She typed it into a basic internet search then smirked. “That’s cute.”

  I leaned in. “What did you find?”

  “A handful of men named Grant Lowe, but none of them match his face. The ones that show up the most are a reverend in New Mexico and an FBI agent from Tennessee. I’m sure Grant, if that’s even his name, has been using a phony last name for some time.” Jade looked around the room. “Do you want to wait for the ballistics results to come back, or do you want to expedite this case before somebody else dies?”

  Jack frowned. “You already know the answer to that, but I’m afraid to hear what you’re going to suggest.”

  “Well?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “Okay, if Grant is involved with the counterfeiting ring, then what better place than the bar to pass off fake bills? Bars are dark, and people are half wasted most of the time.” Jade eyed up Mitch and Mary. “He knows us, but he doesn’t know either of you. I think it’s time to go undercover. What do you say, Jack?”

  “I know you’re right. Mary, Mitch?”

  “I’m game.” Mary turned to her partner.

  “Me too. We’ll walk in like a married couple, plop down at the bar, and order a couple of beers. The question is, don’t most counterfeiters make hundred-dollar bills?”

  Jade shook her head. “Not if they’re smart, and they can’t give it to anyone in change. It’s already the largest-denomination currency. You give them a fifty for a fifteen-dollar bar bill and they’ll likely give you a twenty, ten, and a five back.”

  I added my two cents. “The best-case scenario would be if Grant is bartending. We’d nail him personally for passing off counterfeit money, and if you’re quick enough, you can snag something he touched like a glass or a bar coaster. We can pull his prints to see if Grant Lowe, or whatever his name really is, has a record. We know he’s at the bar now, or at least he was. He has a white 4Runner that he parks in the back.”

  Jack glanced at the clock. “It’s four p.m. You can go now. Make small talk at the bar like you were excited to check out the newest club in town. Engage with the bartender like everyday people. It will make him, or whoever is bartending, trust you. Grant has chin-length dark-brown hair, he’s well built, and he looks to be in his early thirties.”

  “Yeah, let’s do it.” Mary grinned at Mitch. “Finally, you can talk sports with somebody who might actually be listening.”

  I smirked. “See, you already sound like a married couple.”

  Chapter 54

  Grant sat at his desk, his face buried in his hands. A knock sounded on his door.

  “Leave me alone,” he yelled.

  “Grant, the bar is filling up, and Bruce just got a large take-out order. He needs a hand.”

  “Damn it, Donny. Just give me ten more minutes. I have to make a call. Get Drake to cover the bar until I’m done in here.”

  Grant heard footsteps walk away from the locked office door. He picked up his cell and pressed McKinley’s name on his contact list.

  “Why?” he asked when his father finally answered.

  “Why what?”

  “Don’t play coy with me, old man. You know damn well what I mean. Why is Juan dead, and why was he killed at my club on opening night? You set this up, didn’t you? That’s why Marco was here too. You had him kill Juan.”

  “I don’t tolerate betrayal. You, if anyone, should know that.”

  “Was that a threat? Are you coming after me next, your own son? How did I betray you?”

  “Marco said you were pretty friendly with the entire sheriff’s department last night.”

  “Jesus, Dad. I can’t help who shows up to join in on the opening night celebration. So Marco is your new spy? He’s your right-hand man after Frank? No wonder he was talking the way he was last night. Juan was a planned hit, and by having him killed right here at my club, you were sending a message to me too.”

  “It is what it is, Grant. Sometimes people have to learn the hard way.”

  “Bullshit. Now I’ll be under the scrutiny of law enforcement. They’re going to watch every move I make. I want out before we all end up in prison!”

  “That isn’t happening. This is a successful family business that has been around for thirty years. Your grandfather started it, and I’m not about to let you ruin everything. If anyone is paranoid, it’s you. I’ll create a diversion to put law enforcement’s focus on something else. Don’t worry about your club, but consider it a warning. We don’t make friends with cops.”

  Grant pulled out the bottle of whiskey from the bottom desk drawer along with a plastic cup. He poured a double and gulped it down.

  “Frank will take care of everything. He always does. Just do your job, and we’ll handle the rest.” Then the line went dead.

  Grant threw the cell phone across the room, and it bounced off the opposite wall. “You deranged bastard. We’re living on borrowed time.”

  He rose and walked into the private bathroom attached to his office. As he leaned over the sink, Grant splashed cold water on his face and took in a deep breath. Then he headed for the bar.

  Chapter 55

  Mitch and Mary turned in to the Shooters parking lot at 4:42 p.m.

  “Make a quick lap around the lot so we can see if that white 4Runner is parked behind the building.”

  Mitch drove to the back, where they saw the SUV parked in the only space near the rear door.

  “I’ll let the team know he’s still here.” Mary made the quick update call to Jack, clicked off, and silenced her phone. She dropped it in her purse as Mitc
h parked. She gave him an enthusiastic grin as they exited the car. “I’ll admit, this is a first for me and kind of fun. Right, honey?”

  “Getting into character already?”

  “Why not? We have to pull this off like we’re a real couple.”

  Mitch opened the door and let Mary pass through first. Inside, lively music played in the background, and a half dozen people sat at the bar. Two wall-mounted TVs were tuned in to the basketball games of the day, and customers filled four tables.

  Mary scanned the interior, making sure to notice the person behind the bar. “Wow, great place.”

  A young blond woman approached them. “Table for two?”

  “What do you think, babe?” Mary asked.

  “Nah, let’s sit at the bar where the TVs are.”

  Mary rolled her eyes. “Men, right? They never get enough sports.”

  Mitch led the way and pulled out two barstools.

  “Thanks, hon.” Mary sat and hung her purse over the back of the chair.

  The bartender approached the couple seconds later. “Good afternoon, folks. Welcome to Shooters.”

  Mary looked around a second time. “This place is great. We’ll have to come back for dinner sometime.”

  “Good to hear. So far, I haven’t gotten any feedback of sick customers.” He extended his hand. “Grant Lowe, I own the place.”

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Mitch Donnelly, and this is my wife, Mary.” They each shook Grant’s hand.

  “Locals?”

  Mary responded, “Born and raised. We were high school sweethearts.”

  “Sounds nice. What can I get you folks?”

  They peered over the bar at the cooler behind Grant.

  “We prefer bottled beer over tap. We’ll have two Heinekens.”

  “Coming right up.” Grant pulled out the bottles from the cooler and popped off the caps. “Glasses?”

  Mary nodded. “Please.” She watched as Grant placed two coasters on the bar, set a glass on each, and poured. “Thanks. So why did you decide on Joey’s old place?”

  “Optimistic, I guess. It has a large parking lot, and my hope is to keep it full.”

  “May I have a napkin?”

  “Sure thing.” Grant set several napkins on the bar and looked back at the television. “Basketball fan?”

  Mitch spoke up. “You know it. I played in high school.”

  Mary lifted her glass and pulled out the coaster with the top napkin. She slipped both into the waiting evidence bag inside her purse while the men discussed the play-by-play action on TV.

  Grant excused himself to wait on other customers.

  Mitch whispered, “Get the coaster?”

  Mary cupped her mouth and leaned against Mitch’s shoulder. “Of course I did. Let’s settle up and leave. Say something about watching the rest of the game at home.”

  “Yeah, that makes sense.”

  By five fifteen, they were ready to go.

  “Honey, why don’t we leave so I can get dinner started?”

  “I suppose. We’re ready to settle up when you get a second.”

  Grant nodded and returned to the couple.

  Mitch opened his wallet and pulled out a fifty. “Got anything smaller, babe?”

  “Nope, I just filled up my car this morning.”

  “Sorry, man. I only have a fifty.”

  “Not a problem. We have plenty of change.”

  Mitch gave Mary a side-eyed glance and pushed out his stool. “I bet you do, running a bar and all.” He held his wallet as Grant opened the till and pulled out a twenty, a ten, a five, and four singles as change.

  “Appreciate the business, folks. Enjoy the rest of the game.”

  “Will do.” Mitch left three singles on the bar and placed the rest of the money in his wallet.

  Once outside, he lifted the wallet out of his pocket and climbed in the car. “Got that bag handy?”

  “Yeah, here you go.”

  Mitch pinched the bills between his fingers and dropped them into the bag. “There, our first undercover assignment is complete.”

  “Too bad he might be a criminal. He seemed like a nice guy.”

  Mitch smirked. “People say Ted Bundy seemed nice too.” Mitch turned the key and headed back to the sheriff’s office.

  As Mitch drove, Mary made the quick update call to Jack. They would be back in five minutes with a coaster, a napkin, and cash to be printed and tested. Forensics was on standby to print the items. The cash would be taken downtown to the Secret Service office for testing.

  “I’ll get that arranged right now,” Jade said once Jack got off the phone with Mary.

  Jack shook his head. “Not happening. I don’t want you to get into trouble for inserting yourself in this case. I have Agent Brennan’s card. I doubt if he’s working the weekend, but he can direct me to somebody who can test the bills. I intend to drop them off today.”

  Mitch and Mary walked in moments later, each wearing a grin.

  “Our undercover agents are back,” I said.

  Jack motioned them to his desk, and the rest of us gathered around. “Let’s see what you have.”

  Mary unzipped her purse and lifted out the evidence bag. “We have one of the napkins Grant handed me and the coaster he placed under my glass. The cash is what he gave us as change for the fifty.”

  “That’s perfect. Great job, guys. Somebody grab another evidence bag.”

  I went to the cabinet at the back of the bull pen and took one out. “Here you go.”

  “Okay, put the cash in there. I’m taking it to Milwaukee as soon as I talk to Agent Brennan. Mitch, take the other bag downstairs to Forensics. Tell Jeff we need those items printed immediately.”

  “Got it.” Mitch left the bull pen, and Jack returned to his office. With Brennan’s card in his hand and the phone’s receiver wedged in the crook of his neck, Jack looked out at the rest of us. “Get back to finding those printers.”

  Chapter 56

  I hung up the phone after my third call. “I’ve made the connection!” I felt a half dozen pair of eyes staring at me.

  “Well, say it already.” Jade walked to my desk and picked up my coffee cup. She took a sip.

  “I found a big-box store in Waukegan that sold two high-tech printers to none other than MFG Incorporated just yesterday. Finally, we have something that ties all of it together.”

  “Great job, Amber.” Jack walked out of his office and patted me on the shoulder. “I’m heading out in a few minutes. Agent Brennan said there are people staffed over the weekend who can test the currency. He’s making the call to let them know I’ll be there in an hour. We have Grant’s 4Runner, the Alpina, and now two printers purchased or registered under MFG Incorporated’s name. I want everyone to start looking for houses and buildings throughout Milwaukee that are either owned or leased to that same entity. They have to be printing somewhere in Milwaukee. Once the currency is tested and confirmed as counterfeit, we can move in on Shooters. Grant is going to cough up the big players, one way or another.” Jack looked back at his ringing desk phone. “I’m never going to get out of here.”

  “It’s probably Forensics,” Jade said.

  “Yeah, you’re right.” He returned to his office and lifted the receiver. “Lieutenant Steele here. Uh-huh. Yes, send the file to Amber’s computer. Jade is here, and she can run the search on IAFIS.” Jack hung up and jerked his head toward Jade. “Get the IAFIS database back up on Amber’s computer. The fingerprint file is on its way.”

  I pushed back my chair and gave it to Jade then moved the guest chair to her side. We stared at my email column and watched for a new one to appear.

  Jade leaned in and rubbed her hands in anticipation. “Here we go, people. Let’s find out who Grant Lowe really is.” She clicked on the message sent from Forensics and dropped the attachment into the IAFIS database. “Now it’s hurry up and wait while the system does its magic.”

  Jack checked the time. “I have to go. Call me as
soon as you know something.”

  “Will do, partner.” Jade waved Jack toward the door and gave him a wink before he walked out. She turned back to the computer. “Okay, I’ll make some coffee while we wait. It can take a few minutes or a half hour, we just don’t know.”

  “What is the prison time for counterfeiting?” Mary asked.

  “Actually, making counterfeit money can mean a twenty-year prison sentence, but these criminals also murdered four people, one of whom was a cop. That alone is a life sentence without the possibility of parole. They’re lucky neither Wisconsin nor Illinois are death penalty states.” Jade turned to me. “What’s your take on Grant? Do you think he’s one of the ring leaders or not?”

  “I barely know him, Jade. On the surface, he seems like a nice guy, but clearly he’s involved with some portion of the counterfeiting operation.”

  “We may be able to get him to agree to a plea bargain and cough up the main players if he actually is a decent person. It sounds weird to call any criminal decent, though.”

  “Maybe he’s a small-time participant in that operation or at least feels some kind of remorse.”

  “Possibly, but remorse doesn’t keep people out of prison unless they’re offered immunity for a testimony.” Jade poured herself a cup of coffee. “There’s a fresh pot, everyone. Help yourself.” She took a seat at my computer and jiggled the mouse to wake the screen. “Here we go. The results are in.” She clicked on the blue button, and the next page popped up. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “What?”

  “It shows zero results. Grant whatever-his-name-is isn’t in the system. Damn it, another brick wall. We’ll have to wait for the currency results. If the test shows positive, we can arrest Grant and every employee at the bar for passing fake money. Maybe shutting down Shooters and throwing all of his employees in jail will be enough to get him to cough up the ringleader and the location where the printing is going on.” Jade stood and moved over to Clayton’s vacant desk. “Kate, call Jack and let him know that Grant isn’t in the system. I need to remember I don’t work for the county anymore and can’t get deeply involved in your case.”