Greed: An Amber Monroe Crime Thriller Book 1

by C. M. Sutter

  “An unresponsive twenty-four-year-old female deputy, shallow breathing, with signs of vomit.”

  “Could it be poison?”

  “Oh God, please, no.” Jade buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

  “We don’t know. This is how we found her,” Jack said. “I need her keys and phone before you take her. There may be something we can use in that phone log.”

  The EMTs stopped while Jack emptied Amber’s pockets, then he gave them the go-ahead.

  “Okay, let’s get her into the ambulance,” the lead EMT ordered. “Start an IV and oxygen and get a blood pressure cuff on her. We have to go now.” He turned to Jack. “She’ll be at St. Joe’s, Lieutenant Steele.”

  Jack nodded then took off running for Grant’s SUV.

  Jade was on his heels. “Jack, what are you doing?”

  “I’m breaking in. There might be something inside his vehicle that can help us.” He gave the driver’s-side window the full force of his right elbow and shattered the glass. He reached in and popped the locks. “Get in on the passenger side and start searching.” He yelled over his shoulder to Mitch. “Get ahold of Agent Brennan. We need to know how to test that currency right now, ourselves. Royce Denning and everybody else involved in murder, counterfeiting, and now Amber’s attack is answering to me today.” Jack looked across the 4Runner at Jade. “Find anything yet?”

  Jade popped the glove box open, pulled everything out, and dropped the contents on the passenger seat. “What the hell!” She held up a syringe filled with a pale-yellow liquid.

  Jack jerked his head. “Go! Get that syringe to St. Joe’s now and call Emergency on your way. Tell them that Amber has possibly been injected with something. Have them check for a needle puncture. Hurry, Jade, and stay there with Amber.”

  “Give me your keys. Your Charger is the fastest car here.”

  “Sure, but give me Kate’s keys. I don’t want to be stuck here with two vehicles at our disposal and no way to drive them.” Jack watched as Jade squealed the tires and spun out of the parking lot. He called Mitch, Mary, and Kate to his side. “Patrol should be here any minute. I want this SUV taken to the crime lab’s garage. Make sure Patrol goes through this park with a fine-tooth comb. Either Grant is still here somewhere or he got a ride out. That syringe found in his glove box makes me doubt he’s an innocent victim.” He turned to Mitch. “What did Brennan say about the bills?”

  “He’s assuming they’re fake and have a spray fixative over them like the others. What we have to do is take a soft cloth and wipe a portion of the bill with paint thinner. After we do that, we drip water on the newly exposed area and watch. The ink will bleed if the bills are counterfeit.”

  “Okay, that sounds easy enough. Mitch, you’re going with me in Amber’s car. Mary and Kate, hang out here and go over everything with Chief Sanders when he arrives. Here are your keys, Kate. I have Amber’s set in my pocket. We’re going to buy some paint thinner, go back to the office, and test those bills. After that, we’re heading to the seventh district station. Royce has one chance to cough up everything he knows about the counterfeiting operation and the murders, or he’s taking the rap for all of it. That ought to get his attention.”

  Chapter 65

  Jack carried the bag containing the paint thinner into the sheriff’s office and set it on the coffee counter at the back of the bull pen. He entered his office, pulled the evidence bag with the currency from Shooters out of his bottom desk drawer, and returned to the counter.

  “What are we going to wipe the bills with?” Mitch asked.

  “Good question.” Jack looked around the room. “Got a handkerchief?”

  “Nope.” Mitch knelt at the cabinets beneath the coffee counter and pulled open the doors. “Here we go.” He handed Jack a rag, most likely used to wipe coffee stains off the counter. “This should work fine, don’t you think?”

  Jack nodded as he twisted the cap off the paint thinner can. “We only need to use enough to rub through the fixative, right?”

  “That’s what Brennan said.”

  Jack held the rag over the opening and tipped the can. Paint thinner wet the cloth. “Okay, let’s see if this works.”

  “Rub the paint thinner on an area that has a lot of ink, like Andrew Jackson’s jacket.”

  “Good idea.” Jack rubbed in a circular motion for a minute. “Are we supposed to see something happen?”

  “I don’t think so. Fixative is just a clear-coating spray that people use so artwork done in pastels or charcoal doesn’t smudge. Apparently it works well with counterfeit money too and makes the ink somewhat waterproof.”

  Jack frowned. “I guess that’s long enough. Let’s put some water on the bill and see what happens.” Jack dampened the end of the rag under the faucet then held it over the area he’d just wiped. Droplets of water fell on Andrew Jackson’s dark-colored jacket, and the ink began to puddle. Jack held up the bill, and the blackened water ran off it and into the sink. He grinned at Mitch. “Now we have Grant and Royce dead to rights. Let’s go.”

  They exited the building and climbed back into Amber’s Prius en route to the police department, where Royce Denning awaited his fate in a holding cell.

  “Call Jade and get an update on Amber’s condition and find out what’s in that syringe,” Jack said.

  “Yes, sir.” Mitch reached into his front pocket, pulled out his phone, and made the call. “Jade, it’s Mitch. I’m putting you on Speakerphone. I’m with Jack, and we’re headed to Milwaukee. The bills from Shooters were fake. What have you heard about Amber?”

  Jade’s voice sounded shaky. “The doctors are doing everything they can and right now she’s on a ventilator. Amber was on the verge of shutting down completely. Whoever did this gave her a lethal dose of heroin. The doctor gave her Naloxone to reverse the overdose. I swear, when I get my hands around the throats of the people responsible, I’m—”

  “Jade, I’m so sorry,” Jack said. “What is her prognosis?”

  “If she starts breathing on her own, she should pull through okay. Kate and I are guarding her door in ICU.”

  “Don’t leave her side. Mitch and I can handle this. Did Kate get everything squared away with Chief Sanders?”

  “Yes, the city boys have temporarily closed the park and are conducting a thorough search. So far, there’s no sign of Grant anywhere, dead or alive.”

  Jack clicked his left blinker and merged onto the freeway. “I have a feeling he’s alive and well. Don’t worry. Once we catch Grant Whatever-his-name-is, he’ll never see the light of day again.”

  Jade growled, “I hope that’s sooner rather than later. Oh, I have to go. The doctor is headed this way.”

  “Keep us posted.”

  “Will do.”

  Mitch ended the call and pocketed his phone.

  Twenty minutes later, Jack pulled in at the seventh district police station, where Detective Mallory watched for them from the door of the lower level.

  The detective shook hands with Jack and Mitch as they entered the vestibule. “Thanks for the advance call. I’ve already got Mr. Denning in interrogation room two, and he’s anxiously awaiting your arrival.”

  Jack sneered his disgust. “Yeah, he has no idea what he’s in for.”

  Mallory tipped his head toward the desk. “You’ll have to sign in before we can enter the jail wing.”

  Jack nodded, scribbled his name on the sign-in sheet, and handed the pen to Mitch. Seconds later, they continued down the hallway. Mallory entered the code on the pad attached to the wall, and they passed through the security door. The interrogation rooms were down the second hallway to their right.

  “Here we are, gentlemen. He’s all yours.”

  Jack waited until Detective Mallory had turned the corner and was out of sight. “Ready?”

  Mitch cracked his knuckles. “I’ve never been more ready in my life.”

  Jack gave the doorknob a turn. They entered a room that looked exactly like the first inter
rogation room they had been in the day prior. Denning sat at the table, wearing a smug expression.

  “You’re a half hour early. I have until three o’clock to decide what I want to do.”

  “That offer is off the table.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jack pulled out a chair and sat inches from Royce’s face. He placed the yellow legal pad and pen on the table. “Listen carefully, punk, and I’ll tell you exactly what it means. As we speak, cop killing is a federal crime. That means it’s punishable by death or life in prison without the possibility of parole. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  Royce snickered. “Are you trying to scare me?”

  “Damn straight I am. You see, I got it approved to move your case and your sorry ass to Indiana. Seems that the court dockets are way too backed up here. We have reason to believe your enterprise extends into Indiana, anyway.”

  “What enterprise would that be?”

  Jack pounded his fist on the table. “Here’s how it’s going down. You’re taking the heat for everything. I’ve already talked to the federal judge. You’ll be charged with three murder counts, one being a Milwaukee police officer. By the way, that really pissed off the judge. Now we have a sheriff’s deputy fighting for her life. Then, there’s the whole counterfeiting bullshit. You’re in a world of hurt, cowboy. The federal judge agreed to have your punishment decided by an Indiana judge—no jury. I’ve heard that judge is a real prick, and word is, he doesn’t like your kind of folks. Feel me, asshole? You’ll be sent to a federal lockup until they put you to death. Indiana has the death penalty, you know.” Jack pushed the paper and pen in front of Royce. “I want every name and location written down now! That’s the only way you’re going to stay out of gen pop once you enter those prison walls, and I know those wolves hate snitches.”

  “I haven’t snitched about anything, and I don’t intend to.”

  “After I put you away, every inmate on death row will know your name and that you’re a snitch. I’ll make sure of it. You won’t last a day. Think how much money that will save the taxpayers.” Jack rose and walked around Royce’s back. He looked up at the camera and smiled, put his hands on Royce’s shoulders, and whispered in his ear. He stood again and returned to his chair. Royce stared at Jack as a panicked expression crossed his face. He began writing.

  Fifteen minutes later, Royce placed the pen on the legal pad and pushed it toward Jack. Jack stood and tipped his head toward the door. He walked out with Mitch at his back.

  “Nice line of BS. Good thing criminals are stupid and believe everything cops say.”

  Jack chuckled.

  “What did you whisper in his ear?”

  “I made him a promise.”

  “Which was?”

  “That I’d pay someone to castrate him the day he walks through the prison doors. I guaranteed him I’d find someone who would be happy to perform any act, and I emphasized the word any, for a hundred-dollar bill. Come on. Let’s sit in the observation room and go over this information. I want you to Google each name and address as I read it off.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Jack rubbed his forehead as he stared at the words Royce had written. “Grant’s real last name is Moore. There’s a Frank and McKinley Moore too. They have to be the kingpins. So it was Grant and two other brothers?”

  “Or Grant, a brother, and a father, or possibly cousins.”

  “Google their names.” Jack watched as Mitch entered the names on his phone.

  “Nothing comes up for any of them.”

  “Okay, so they’ve stayed under the radar until now. Try the addresses.”

  Mitch entered the addresses into the search bar. “First one looks like a warehouse, and it’s suspiciously close to the general area where Officer Jacobs was gunned down.”

  “Anything on the owner or tenant?”

  “Google Images shows an entire street of abandoned buildings, but the address is listed as being owned by a Michael Grandon.” Mitch pulled out his notepad and began writing. “Give me the next address.”

  Jack read it off.

  “Bingo! That property, which appears to be a mansion on Google Images, belongs, or belonged, to a Cleveland Moore. He was born in 1930 and passed away in 2005.”

  “Hmm—so the home is still in the family and was probably passed down to his son. Try these addresses.”

  Mitch tapped the keys again. “Both residences are high-end condos in the third ward, owned by none other than SOG.”

  “Smart, very smart. So the mansion was passed down to the son, who is either McKinley or Frank, and the brothers live in the condos. We need to check out the warehouse before anything else. That’s probably where the funny money is made. Come on. Let’s talk to Royce again.”

  Jack and Mitch entered the interrogation room for the last time. They had far more urgent things to do.

  “Who are McKinley and Frank?”

  “Grant’s father and brother.”

  “Which is which?”

  “McKinley is the old man and a mean son of a bitch. He killed everyone himself except Juan.”

  Jack gave Mitch a quick side-eyed glance. “You know that firsthand?”

  Royce nodded.

  “Does he own a BMW Alpina B7?”

  “Yes.” Royce sat with his shoulders slumped. “He’s going to have me killed, you know, just like he had Juan killed for betraying his confidence.”

  “Let us worry about that. What about the warehouse? Is that where the counterfeiting takes place?”

  “You’re a cop, aren’t you? Figure it out for yourself.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. The condos belong to Frank and Grant?”

  Royce nodded.

  Jack and Mitch left the room and took the hallway back to the front desk.

  “We need to speak with Detective Mallory again before we leave,” Jack said.

  “One moment, Lieutenant Steele. I’ll page him.”

  Minutes later, Detective Mallory met up with Jack and Mitch in the lobby. He tipped his head toward a group of chairs. “Let’s talk over there.”

  “We finally broke Denning. His house is in your district, but the supposedly abandoned warehouse where they print the money is in the fourth district. The cop they killed was from the fourth district too. We all have a stake in this case, and one of my deputies is fighting for her life because of these assholes. We’re taking down this operation today. We have names and addresses for all of the main players.”

  “That’s great news. I need to get on the horn with our chief and Chief Ortega immediately. We can organize a raid with SWAT on the chief’s say-so. The warehouse is in a group of abandoned buildings, you say?”

  “According to Google, it is.”

  “So much the better. We need eyes on that building immediately. I’ll organize everything with the precincts right now.”

  “Good.” Jack pulled up the warehouse’s location on his phone.” He pointed at a dead-end street on the screen. “This is where we should organize our takedown. Meanwhile, we’re going to put eyes on that building.”

  “Don’t let them see you.”

  Jack nodded. “Believe me, we have no intention of it. Blitz attacks are what it’s all about. They give me a warm, fuzzy feeling. We need your radio channels and then we’re off.”

  “For these purposes, we’ll tune in on our seldom-used stations. You never know who might be listening. Be careful out there. We’ll meet you in less than an hour.”

  Back in the car, Jack and Mitch headed north.

  “Update Agent Brennan and then call Jade. We need to know how Amber is doing.”

  “Right away.” Mitch made the call to Brennan, told him the plan, and said they were only interested in taking down the key players inside. The building and its contents would be handed off to the Secret Service. Mitch hung up and tapped Jade’s name in his recent calls list. He pressed Speakerphone and set the phone down. Jade answered on the second ring.
“Jade, how’s Amber doing?”

  “Hi, Mitch. She’ll be fine, thank God. Her heart never actually stopped beating, so there isn’t any permanent damage. She’s awake but too groggy to talk. We’ll get her statement tomorrow, but for tonight, she needs rest and monitoring. The doctor said if her vitals remain strong, she’ll be released in the morning. Mitch, we found her just in time.”

  “What a relief,” Jack said from the driver’s seat. “Want some more good news?”

  “Absolutely. I can use every bit you’ve got.”

  “We have the names and addresses of all the main players. It turns out that Grant, his brother, and his father were running the show. According to Royce, the old man has a dark-blue Alpina B7. We’re headed to an address right now that’s listed as an abandoned warehouse. It’s the most probable location for where the printing takes place. Detective Mallory is setting up an ambush on the warehouse with Chief Ortega. They’ll have SWAT units meet us near the location within the hour.”

  “Please be careful—all of you.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  Chapter 66

  By five thirty, the group of thirteen had the plan set up. With a large blueprint of the warehouse’s schematics spread out on the hood of Chief Ortega’s cruiser, SWAT knew where to breach the building.

  “The only thing we’ve observed so far is smoke coming from that chimney.” Jack pointed at a central location within the building on the blueprint.

  “So somebody is definitely inside,” Chief Ortega said.

  Jack nodded.

  “That’s an incinerator,” one of the SWAT team members said. “According to archived data, that building used to be a newspaper printing plant back in the fifties. Apparently, the men inside are still using it to this day. Are you gentlemen ready?”

  “Ready and waiting for your instructions,” Jack said. “Those people have committed far too many crimes across all of our jurisdictions.”

  “Okay, we’ll take the lead—it’s what we’re trained for. The rest of you follow behind a good thirty feet. There’s a steel door alongside the overhead next to the loading dock and another at the back of the building. We’re breaching both of them at the same time so nobody has a chance to escape. Let’s head to the building. Park behind our bus, gear up, and follow on our cue. Let’s move.”