Eli shook his head. "He's the DEA's man." Rising from the chair, he walked toward the door.
"Where are you going, Tanner? We've got to call the SAC and tell him we know who the player is."
Eli halted and faced Ashley with an uncharacteristic frown. "I don't want anything to do with it, Sutton. You call the SAC. I'm sure he'll be impressed."
"What's wrong with you, Tanner?" Ashley blurted. "Now we know who let the contracts. We can help the DEA get Mendez."
"Get Mendez?" Eli said, shaking his head. "No, it's not that easy. Once I thought it would be easy, too, but he's smarter than that, Sutton. Think a minute. Who is going to testify that Mendez was involved with the Yona Group?
Henry Cobb? Congressman Richards? They're dead or missing, remember? Strike one. Next question. Who is going to testify that Mendez let the contract? Orlando? No, I killed him. What about the other hitters? No, they'll never say a word, but even if they do talk they don't know who gave them the contract. That's strike two. So, what have you got left? What else links Mendez to any of this? I'll tell you nothing. That's strike three, Agent. You're out, and so is the DEA and anybody else who tries to get Mendez."
Ashley looked into Eli's eyes. "You're forgetting something, Tanner. The money. Four trunks delivered to a bank in Dahlonega, remember? Don't you think Mendez will want to recover his investment?"
"He'll write it off, Sutton. It's nothing but a small business expense to him."
"You'd be right if he thought we had his money, Tanner, but he doesn't think we know about the money. He had Cobb, Richards, Paul, and all the others killed to protect his investment and his involvement with the group. He thinks he's accomplished his mission of keeping the money and his involvement a secret."
Eli returned her stare for a moment before dipping his chin. "You may be right. . . . It'd be like him to try and get his money right out from under our noses."
Ashley picked up her cell phone from the bed and offered it to Eli. "Call the SAC and tell him what've we got."
"Me? You're the one who thinks we might still have a chance to nail him. You call him. I'm out of it."
Ashley licked a finger and rubbed his chin. "You missed a little evidence there, Tanner. Aren't you in this with me?"
"You want me in on this?" Eli asked. "I'm the dumb guy, remember?"
"Yes, of course I want you in; you're my partner. I'm just a white-collar wire head and you're a field guy. I need you."
She held the phone out. "Make the call."
Chapter 13.
9:30 A. M., Thursday, Atlanta.
Ashley held Eli's arm as they walked down the chapel steps. When she saw the black hearse parked alongside the curb, she dabbed at her good eye with a Kleenex.
Eli gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "You doing okay?"
She nodded. "I'm fine, really. It was nice, wasn't it? The SAC did a good job with Paul's eulogy."
Eli slowed, seeing Stacy Starr across the street with her camera crew. Ashley saw her at the same time and spoke through clenched teeth. "She never rests, does she? Damnit, why can't they stay out of people's lives?"
"She's just doing her job, Sutton."
The SAC caught up to the couple and tapped Eli's shoulder. "Tanner, you and Agent Sutton be in my office in an hour. We'll discuss what you told me last night."
"You did a wonderful job with the eulogy, sir," Ashley said.
Farrel lowered his head. "Paul was a damn fine agent. I'm going to miss him. . . . Well, I'd better get back to the office.
See you two in a little while."
Minutes later Ashley started the van. She was about to shift into reverse but regarded her passenger a moment.
"Thanks for coming with me, Tanner. I know now it would have never worked. Paul wouldn't have let it."
Not knowing what to say, Eli gazed out the window in silence. The one thing he did know was that he didn't know his partner as well as he'd thought. Ashley's feelings toward Eddings had caught him completely off guard. He knew Ashley was capable of feelings like everybody else, but he'd never thought she could direct those feelings toward a fellow agent and be so open about it.
Misreading him, Ashley patted his arm. "You all right?"
"Yeah, I was just thinking is all. I haven't been to one of these since my Miami partner died. I'd forgotten how much they hurt and yet are so . . . so . . ."
"Settling?"
"Yes, that's a good word for it. The hard part is seeing Paul's kids. Gus had kids, too. That was the toughest thing for me . . . talking to his boys. Alice, his wife, wanted me to explain he wouldn't be coming home again. . . . It was the toughest duty I've ever had to do."
"Were you and Gus close?"
"As close as two guys can get. The job was actually fun with him. I didn't mind going to work, knowing he'd be there, bitching like he always did. He was always complaining about the hours. . . . He wanted to be with his family more. He kept things in perspective for me, kind of like you do, Sutton."
"Are you saying I bitch a lot, Tanner?"
"Do I get to count last night?"
She pushed the gearshift into reverse. "Never mind, Tanner. You want to get something to eat before we go to the meeting?"
"Sure, but none of those light salad lunch places. I need real food for a change. I'm up for a big greasy burger smothered in grilled onions."
"Tanner, I'm driving, so I pick the place; that's the deal."
"Uh-uh. That's not fair because you always drive. I get even days and you get odd. Today it's real food. Tomorrow you get the salad brought by the guys with the ponytails."
"So you get the greasy burger brought by the girl in a short skirt? Is that it?"
"It's real food, Sutton. I don't care who brings it to the table as long as they bring lots of it. I'm starved just thinking about it. Come on. Find me a burger joint where we can sit down."
"Tanner, it's an odd day, so guess what? Yeah . . . ponytail time!"
Eli smirked and shook his head as if defeated, but inside he knew he'd won a victory. He had gotten Ashley Sutton to smile again. Trouble was, he really could taste that burger.
Don Farrel read the informant's statement before looking at the two people seated on the other side of his desk. "It's thin but I want you two to get up to Dahlonega and work with Agent Bowlan on this. We need to find the money if it's there. Agent Sutton, you were White Collar and know how the division works. Work with Bowlan's White Collar people and find out what bank the Yona Group did business with. And Tanner, you'd better talk to the GBI and tell them what's going on; we'll need their help in getting cooperation from the locals. I'll call their director and let him know you're coming over for a chat. Once you're done I'll have a chopper waiting here to take you and a GBI rep up to Dahlonega, to Bowlan's CP."
Eli raised an eyebrow. "Sir, what about the DEA? Are you going to bring them in on this possible money laundering angle?"
"Not until I know for sure there is actually dirty money involved. All we've got is this hearsay statement from the C. I. If we prove the Yona Group was laundering, then I'll give them a call and tell them what we have."
"They won't like being left out, sir."
"That's too bad, isn't it?"
Ashley stood. "We'll head over to the GBI office now, sir."
Farrel gave her a long look before speaking. You doing okay, Agent Sutton?"
"Yes, sir, my eye is giving me no problems."
"I wasn't referring to your eye. I know you and Agent Eddings were close."
"Sir, I hope you are referring to 'close' as in the professional sense."
"I am, Agent Sutton, but I'm not blind. It was obvious to me you had feelings for Paul. I'm asking if this is personal to you. Tell me now. You know I can't allow you to become involved in this case if it is."
Ashley stood rigid and lifted her chin. "Sir, I assure you it's not personal."
"Very well, I'll accept that. Agent Tanner, have Agent Bowlan give me a call once you two have briefed him o
n what we've discussed. Good luck."
Once in the hallway and walking to the elevators, Ashley took hold of Eli's arm and brought him to a halt. "What was that in there? I wasn't that obvious, was I?"
Eli patted her shoulder. "Look, Sutton, I'm your pard, so I'm going to be straight with you. Yes, it was that obvious.
You glowed when you talked to Paul. You don't do that with the rest of us, so of course everybody noticed."
"Glowed? What's that mean?"
"You ever see that movie Casablanca with Bogie?"
"Yes, of course."
"You remember the scene where the girl is looking at Bogie when the black guy is playing 'As Time Goes By'?
That's what glowing is, and that was you."
Ashley lowered her head. "I--I didn't realize I I. ."
"Forget it, pard. Nothing to be ashamed of. It looked good on you. A little disturbing maybe . . . but it said you were a real person, not just a hard case agent. That perfume you put on is what got me. . . . What was it?"
"I . . . I don't know. I was in the ladies' rest room and a secretary was putting some on and I asked if I could borrow a squirt."
"It was nice, pard . . . but don't do it again. It really drove me nuts."
Ashley began walking again. "I'll pass that on to that lady shark friend of yours."
Eli growled. "Let that alone, will ya?"
She stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "I'm just trying to help you out, Tanner. Pards, remember?"
"Yeah, well, don't do me any favors in that department, Sutton. I can do for myself just fine."
"Touchy, huh? You like her, don't you?"
"I'm not answering that, Sutton."
"I'll let the evidence of last night speak for itself, Tanner.
In my book you're guilty as charged."
Eli stomped past her. "Let's get goin'. We've got work to do."
Ashley smiled to herself; she had gotten him angry.
Good, he deserves it, she said to herself. He can fall for a shark. Uh-uh, he can do better than that.
Georgia Bureau of Investigation Detective Ed Faraday knew he was going to be tagged as soon as he walked into his director's office and saw the two FBI agents seated at the table. The GBI director motioned to a chair. "Sit down, Ed. I believe you know these two special agents."
Ed wrinkled his brow as he took a seat. "Yes, sir, I'm afraid so."
"Good, because you'll be working with them. They've just told me an interesting story about the possibility of dirty money in Dahlonega. The SAC has been kind enough to include us in on the investigation, and these two agents have asked for you by name. Do you have a problem with representing our interests in this?"
Faraday took a breath and let it out slowly. "No, sir. But I guess this means I can forget about going to the Falcon game this weekend, huh?"
The director's eyes lit up. "Where are your seats?"
"Thirty-five yard line, sir. But I paid seventy-five apiece for the two."
"You got it. I'll write you a check right now."
Faraday glared at Eli. "You'd better have a damn good reason for this, Tanner."
.
3:40 P. M., Dahlonega.
The blackened brick walls and charred remains of the Yona Group's headquarters office building sat as a backdrop behind a newly erected blue-and-white-striped tent. Under the canopy, Special Agent James Bowlan, the case agent in charge, sat behind a small desk speaking to the three people who had just reported for duty. He leaned back in his chair and motioned toward the destroyed building.
"As you can see, there's not much left; the fire was no accident. Our people found pieces of four ignitors. And the water to the building was turned off just before the fire, making the ceiling sprinklers useless. We've concluded there was definitely more than one arsonist involved and that they were pros. All the company's records were destroyed in the fire . . . but based on the SAC's call, we did some checking with the group's personnel department and we've found which bank the group dealt with. I ordered printouts of the group's phone records."
Bowlan picked up a thick stack of computer hard copy from his desk and passed it to Ashley. "Look at this. This is a record of calls Henry Cobb, the CEO, made the day he was murdered. The third call I highlighted is the one he made to a local bank. In just a second we'll confirm the bank for you . . . ahh, here's our confirmation now."
Bowlan rose as two agents escorted into the tent a small woman who looked to be in her late forties.
"Please take a seat, Mrs. Gilcrest." Bowlan motioned to an empty chair. "I understand you were the personal secretary to the group's CEO, Henry Cobb."
"Yes, I worked for Mr. Cobb for a little more than a year," the woman said, taking her seat.
"Mrs. Gilcrest, we have a printout that shows Mr. Cobb made a call to a local bank here in town only an hour before he was killed. Do you know who Mr. Cobb would have talked to?"
"Yes, that would be Harold Lynch, the owner of the bank.
Mr. Cobb and Mr. Lynch were golfing buddies, and Harold handled all the group's banking needs. But I believe you're mistaken about the call. Henry was killed before ten, and the bank doesn't open till ten."
"Does Mr. Lynch live in town?" Bowlan asked.
"Yes, but he's not home or at the bank. I called him at the bank the day of the murder to inform him of the tragedy, but his secretary said he had left on a vacation. It was all very sudden and she was worried about him. He had left a note on her desk saying he was leaving. Mr. Lynch is all business, you must understand. It's not like him to just leave."
Eli exchanged looks with Ashley and Faraday as Bowlan nodded. "Just one more question, Mrs. Gilcrest. Did the group deal with any other banks or savings and loans?"
"No, just Dahlonega First National. As I said, Mr. Cobb and Harold were friends. Henry trusted Harold with all the group's banking transactions."
Bowlan rose again. "Thank you, Mrs. Gilcrest. You've been most helpful."
As soon as the secretary left the tent, Bowlan frowned.
"You want to bet that Mr. Lynch is dead?"
Ashley was already on her feet. "It also means we're too late; Mendez has already gotten his money. We'd better get down to the bank and see what the employees know."
Bowlan headed in the opposite direction, speaking over his shoulder. "I'll get the search warrant and have the White Collar crew down there in fifteen minutes."
Still seated in his chair, Ed Faraday gave Eli an accusing stare. "You said we were gonna find trunks of money, Tanner. Sounds to me like we're gonna find zip."
Eli rose and offered his hand to pull his friend up. "No, Ed, not zip. If the money was there, then we'll know for sure the group was involved in laundering. We'll have our motive for the contracted hits."
The detective took Eli's hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. He softened his expression. "Where's that going to leave us?"
"It leaves us with one suspect . . . Carlos Mendez," Eli said as he walked toward the van.
"What do you mean, you don't know what was in the vault?" Ashley Sutton pinned the young bank assistant manager with a glare.
The assistant winced. "I . . . I didn't get involved with Mr.
Lynch's affairs. All I know is he had this new vault built a year ago and nobody but himself was allowed to enter. He said it was because of security and that was the way our number one customer wanted it."
Ashley motioned to the open vault door. "Why is it open?"
"I assume because Mr. Lynch opened it. We were afraid to close it because we don't have the combination to open it again. And it's empty, as you can see, so we really felt no need."
"What was in there?"
"Like I told you before, I really don't know, Agent Sutton. I came to work yesterday morning and it was open just like it is now."
"And you didn't think this extra vault was strange?"
"Agent Sutton, I've been working for Mr. Lynch a year and I thought many things he did were strange,
but he told me the Yona Group account was the reason we were doing so well. He said they had very strict security needs that he was forced to abide by in order to keep their business.
Please understand, Mr. Lynch worked extremely long hours keeping our number one account happy."
"Do you know where Mr. Lynch went on vacation?"
"No, but I'm worried about him. It's not like him to leave, especially to leave with the vault door open. He never mentioned to me he was going on vacation. I know he recently was divorced and he was down about that, but I can't imagine him leaving without giving me instructions first."
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