I was a bit shocked, because she’d seemed so demure, but I didn’t judge her for what she’d done. I was more saddened that she’d done bad things to hide a crime so minor.
I flipped through the pages, but there was nothing on Thomas. “Did you do any work on a guy named Thomas Booth? He worked at one of Ryan’s trucks.”
Reilly turned around and tapped a few keys. He turned back. “Nope, nothing on him. I guess no one asked me to do any research on him.”
I wondered about that. Thomas had said that he’d been investigated by this man, but he hadn’t been. Was there another investigator who had looked into him? Or had Pohler merely figured out the discrepancies on his own? I speculated on how much I could believe what Pohler had told Thomas. It wasn’t as if they would've had an in-depth discussion about the source of the blackmail material or that Pohler would give him a list of cited references. Pohler had told him what he had, and Thomas had gone along with it so as not to get called out on the lies.
I did wonder if there was more to it than just the resume. Maybe Thomas had told me a lie, so that I wouldn’t find out the source of the information and investigate. I might have found something out that would have stopped me from hiring him.
Reilly cleared his throat. “Anything else I can do for you?” he asked. “I have a client coming in about ten minutes from now, and knowing this guy, he’s not going to want company for the discussion we’re going to have.”
I nodded. While I’d found Bernadette, and no Thomas, I still had dozens of pages to read through. I wanted to find a quiet place to look at what I’d found. It had to be quiet and away from people since the photos of Bernadette were somewhat revealing.
I didn’t want to go home and do this. Land was due over later, and I wasn’t sure that he’d appreciate me cutting it close to an active police investigation, though Reilly had not mentioned the police when I spoke with him. He’d just been looking for a quick buck.
I went to the secured lot and parked next to the food truck. I unlocked the door and went inside. No one would bother me there, and I could read and study in peace.
The first pages were actually an investigation of Ryan Pohler’s wife. Apparently, he’d suspected her of having an affair. Reilly had followed her for several days, recording information on her movements. In the end, she hadn’t been having an affair, at least that Reilly had been able to find. However, she’d made the purchase of several big-ticket items: a fur coat, a few Vera Wang dresses, and more shoes than I could ever dream of.
I’m sure the question became where she got the money. The private investigator had not been asked to find out the source of the money, probably because it would have meant opening up his finances and that was the last thing Pohler would want. His mysterious transactions would have been visible to the private investigator, who might have asked questions.
That investigation took up several pages, followed by the three or four pages on Bernadette. Next there was a brief investigation of a man named Aaron Youngblood. There were a few crimes on the man’s rap sheet, and I tried to remember if I’d ever met anyone with such a unique name in dealing with food trucks, but I hadn’t.
On the bright side, at least the name was unusual enough that I wouldn’t have much trouble finding him. I had a strong suspicion that the man could be the mysterious fifth counterfeit passer.
There were a couple of pages on me too. I was shocked to see that the investigation had gone as far as to look into my past and my finances. The pages told of nothing that could leave me open to blackmail from Pohler.
There were also pages on Land. I thought about reading through all of them, but I decided not to be nosy. I’d been offered opportunities by his family to hear about his past, but I had declined—and he’d been so grateful. I wouldn’t betray him today either.
By that time, I’d finished the files. I wished there had been more. I was interested to see how Pohler had used his businesses to gather information and then make more money from that.
I took the files I’d received, tucked them under my arm and headed home. I wasn’t home for long before Land arrived. He came in, kissed me, and immediately saw the papers on the table. “What is that?” he asked, walking over to them.
I pulled out the pages that dealt with him. I didn’t want any confusion over what I planned to do with them. “These are for you,” I said, handing the pages over to him. “Pohler ran investigations on both of us. Mine is pretty boring.”
He flipped through the pages. “And what did you think about mine?” he asked, stopping to read something on one of the interior pages.
“I didn’t,” I replied. “If you want to tell me what’s in there, great. If not, it’s your business.”
“But you showed me yours,” he replied, watching my every move, though he was pretending not to be interested.
“As I said, mine were boring. Maybe I need to get out more.” I gave him a reassuring smile, trying to get him to loosen up. He was not the type to trust easily. So he would likely think of what he would do in the same situation. I honestly didn’t know, because my life had been rather boring before I inherited the first truck. After that, it had all been public knowledge, and of course, Land had been at my side the entire time.
He paused for a second and then handed over the first two pages. “Here. You can read these.”
I gave him a long stare. “Are you sure? I mean, it’s up to you.”
He kissed me again. “Yeah, if you’re going to marry me, it would be helpful if you knew some of what you were getting into.”
I took the pages and read them through quickly. Much as I’d suspected, Land had worked as a police officer in Navarre before joining the Spanish army. He’d worked on several missions with NATO as a consultant before he’d quit and immigrated to the United States.
I would have to surmise that he’d met Danvers while he worked for the Army. I knew that Danvers had military service somewhere in his background too. The reports were short on details about the missions, what countries were involved and what they had accomplished. Even so, I was pleased to read it and very impressed with my fiancé, both for his openness and his previous endeavors. Obviously, the file couldn’t have been too bad or Pohler would have tried to use it, so the contents had to be relatively safe.
I gave him a hug when I’d read the pages through a second time, and handed them back to him. “You’re a pretty impressive man,” I said with a grin.
He shrugged. “Thanks. I talked to Danvers on the way over here. He’s been pulled from the case. His lieutenant found out about the ties to food trucks and how Sabine worked at Dogs on the Roll. He didn’t want any conflicts of interest, so he pulled Danvers. That probably means that the case will be going to the Secret Service in the next day or two.”
“The Secret Service?” I asked, wondering why they would be involved.
“They handle all counterfeiting. That’s why they were originally created. Why is it that I know your government better than you do?” he asked, with an air of puzzlement. His statement was probably true. He had a much better grasp of grammar and punctuation than I did. Land had no accent. Now he understood law enforcement better than I did as well. “Anyway, that means the end of your involvement in the matter. They’ll need you as a witness, and they might interview you, but they won’t put up with you anywhere near the case. You’ll end up in big trouble if you were to keep going.”
I nodded. I’d heard Danvers and Land talk about the rules of federal law enforcement, and I really had no desire to be a part of that. I’d have to let it drop, which grated on me as we ate dinner and watched a movie. We talked briefly about Sabine and Danvers, who were still on the outs. Land seemed to think that it was over permanently, but I wasn’t sure. I was just certain that she wouldn’t be returning to work at the food truck. With the wedding coming up fast, I needed someone who could keep the food truck open and operational so that we could go on a honeymoon. Except for a few days when the truck had been closed or confiscate
d, I couldn’t remember a time that either of us had taken off a weekday together. I was looking forward to some downtime after everything that had happened in the last few months.
I think I fell asleep at some point, because the movie didn’t seem to make much sense. I confused two of the characters with each other and missed several plot points.
***
After having so much sleep, I was up and at work early the next day. I texted Thomas to let him know that I was already here. I hadn’t let him drive the food truck yet, and I had yet to let him open on his own. I was also slow to trust; it had taken me months to trust Carter.
Thomas arrived a bit early, looking like he’d run a few blocks. Since the closest garage was only a few minutes’ walk, I doubted that was the case. “What happened to you?” I asked.
“I’m pretty sure I was followed here. I ran the last bit,” he said when he caught his breath.
I cringed. I’d been in bad situations before, especially early in the morning when foot traffic was very light. I wasn’t up to getting into mortal danger at the moment. I had a wedding to plan.
I looked out of the door, but saw nothing. I wasn’t sure why someone would follow Thomas at that time of morning when he was going to work. They had to know his destination and that they’d likely be seen given the few people on the streets. Jack Reilly might have relieved me of $100 for some incomplete information, but he didn’t seem dumb enough to pull a stunt like that.
I tried to put the story out of my mind as I prepped for the morning coffee rush. Was another operative watching Thomas? Or had the Secret Service already come on board, and they were watching the people who had passed the phony twenties? That seemed more likely, though Land had made it sound like their involvement was in the future.
I didn’t have long to wait. Danvers was at the food truck by 8:15, hands stuffed deep in his pockets and looking down at the sidewalk. I had a coffee ready for him when he approached the window. I had hoped that this would be a short visit, but he looked like he wanted to talk. “Got a minute?” he asked after I’d taken the next order.
I nodded and walked out to meet him. Thomas took over the cash register, and I went out to talk to him. I was hoping that his mood was the result of the case and not of his relationship with Sabine. I was in no mood to play cupid, especially with a man I had foolishly kissed once.
“What’s up?” I asked when we got far enough away from the truck so that we wouldn’t be heard. I suspected that it was going to be case-related since others weren’t supposed to hear what we were talking about.
“I was curious if you had come up with any information you hadn’t shared with me. I am trying to wrap this case up quickly, and I need everything you have.”
I thought back to what Land had said last night. If Danvers was off the case, then he’d gone rogue here to solve it himself. He had no more authority than I did at this point. It made me feel better to see us both in the same boat.
“I know Carter called you yesterday about Mrs. Pohler. Is there something you can do to find out more about her?” I thought about Jack Reilly who had a file on her. Was there anything in that file which would have made her more pliable to being used by her husband? I knew it wouldn’t have bothered me enough to commit a felony, but at the same time, I was in very different straits than she was.
“Not really. I don’t have much to go on there. Do you think she’s guilty?” he asked. Danvers still had not told me about his status and the case. Land had long ago told me that I shouldn’t trust Danvers, and now more than ever, I saw that he’d been right.
“I think she’s guilty of something, but I’m not sure that it’s the murders. There were five bills and four people we know of who passed them. I’m curious to find that last person; I think he or she might know something more about this whole operation. Something that the others did not.”
Danvers scratched his cheek, which he usually did when he was trying to hide a smirk, but the sarcastic grin was still on his face when he took his hand down. “There were only the four people involved. I can tell you that. When the bank first detected the five counterfeit bills, two of the bills were stuck together tightly. New money can be that way at times, but new fake money is like that most of the time. You’re chasing someone who doesn’t exist.”
I felt momentarily embarrassed that I hadn’t known that, but Danvers had not seen fit to add that detail to what we knew. As a result, I’d been hunting a mirage, thinking that another person was involved. It had been Pohler all along who had been passing the bills. If his wife was to be believed, there was no printing equipment at the house, so either he had a partner in this venture or he had another location to print the bills.
I still had a few leads over Danvers. I’d located the private investigator and learned more about what each of the people had done prior to the blackmail. I thought about keeping that back, but I knew that the mix-up with the number of bills had been an oversight, and not a malicious act on Danvers’ part. I gave in and told Danvers all about Jack Reilly and the information he’d shared with me. He nodded and then took notes as I talked. I left out everything in the file about Land. That wasn’t relevant to the case, and if I was right about the timeline, Danvers already knew that Land had been in the army and in the police force.
“Maeve, you don’t know how much this helps me. Thank you.” I thought he was going to hug me for a second, which my body instinctively stiffened for, but instead he gave me a handshake and headed off.
With that, I headed back to the truck.
Chapter 11
Thomas was waiting for me anxiously when I returned. At first, I thought he was just glad to see me again since running the truck with only one person can stretch a person’s abilities. However, within a few seconds, I knew something else was up.
I’d already been overloaded with information at that moment, and so I decided to let him tell me his concerns in his own time, while I tried to make sense of all I’d been told.
A few minutes later, when I was well into the routine of ringing up coffee sales, he cleared his throat. “Remember the other day when you called that supplier?” he said casually. “He called back today and asked if you were still interested.”
I thought about the Secret Service, and Danvers’ warning about getting involved, but I weighed it against wanting to know more about what happened. If nothing else, I could feasibly argue that I wasn’t investigating, but just looking into new opportunities to save money. “I’d be interested in talking to him,” I answered. I made myself sound just as casual.
“Great. I’ll take you there after work,” he said.
I wanted to argue that he was being followed, and that it would be better for me to drive, but my mind was already swimming, trying to determine what the new details about the case meant to my ideas. I still was certain that someone else was behind this.
I went back to work after that and didn’t give the meeting much thought until the end of the shift. Thomas said that we should leave the truck and go over together. I had wanted to stop and tell Land, but Thomas groused, so I just sent him a quick text to tell him what I was doing.
We headed off to the warehouse. Thomas made a few extra stops and turns to get to Center Street, which was in the midst of an industrial area of Capital City. Factories and warehouses lined the road for as far as the eye could see in either direction. There were no homes, schools or parks. This was business—and only business—here.
I’d been watching behind us all the way from the truck, looking for a tail, but I didn’t see one. Either the event that morning had been Thomas’ imagination or they’d given up for the day. I suspected the former, since it seemed like Thomas was the type to bring attention to himself.
We stepped inside of the warehouse through a door beside three truck docks. The area was silent, and I wasn’t sure if they were done for the day or if the hard times over the past few years had put many of these places out of business. It would make an ideal stor
age unit, an abandoned warehouse in an area that no one frequented.
That thought gave me a shiver, thinking that we were here with people who quite possibly killed Ryan Pohler and Bernadette Cravens.
Inside the warehouse was nothing but cement floors and sheet metal walls. Nothing was stored in this oversized room. A few pallets sat on the floor, but that wasn’t even enough food to get me through a day. “I thought you said that he was meeting us here,” I said, perturbed that I had gotten my hopes up for nothing. Apparently this case would be solved by the professionals and not by me.
“I don’t know what to tell you,” Thomas said. “He called. I swear.”
There was a single pallet on the floor that had lettuce in it. The edges of the greens had started to turn brown, and I felt a little sick thinking that someone would serve this to customers. I also knew that lettuce could be sprayed with chemicals to keep it looking better over time. I wondered how many things had been sprayed on this food.
If this was the food that Pohler had been serving, he’d been playing a very shortsighted game. No one would eat at his place again if they got sick from the food at his trucks. I was unsure why anyone would take that risk.
The irony would be if Pohler had been blackmailed by someone else into using the foods. It would be a sort of karmic justice to learn that was the case.
Since the warehouse floor had so little to offer, I decided to check out the office. I had hopes that perhaps in the rush to leave the suppliers had left something that would help explain what was going on. The office, which barely lived up to its name, was a cement floor, three paneled walls and a Plexiglas fourth wall that looked out to the warehouse floor. My hopes buoyed a little when I saw the chaotic state of the room, which included a desk and filing cabinets.
I rifled through the drawers in the desk to no avail. Everything was gone. I turned to look into the filing cabinets, the five metal sets of drawers that stood on the far wall. There were a few files that had been missed in each drawer. I scanned through them quickly, hoping to get something that could bring a solution to this case. In the third filing cabinet, I found a printout of the company’s books. I practically squealed with excitement as I pulled the thick folder from the drawer and threw it on the desk.
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