by Gerri Hill
“I think we should start with Peterson. The father, not the son,” Finn said, breaking the silence.
“Okay. You have a feeling?”
Finn shrugged. “It’s not a coincidence Brett hired us. I’ve worked for the old man before. He sent the son to us.” She tapped the paper. “The old man has no debt, the son does.”
“Did you tell Dee about Peterson hiring you?”
“No. I didn’t get around to it.” Finn tossed the paper down. “A lot of trails to follow here. I doubt there’ll be a quick resolution.”
“You never know. Peterson might lead us right to the place.”
“It’s one thing knowing where they go. What they do inside is going to be hard to determine from the outside.”
Rylee leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “Did you and Dee ever consider that maybe you should get the FBI involved? I mean, the money laundering thing, prostitution, gambling…it screams organized crime.”
“Yes, it does. And no, we didn’t discuss the FBI.” Finn pushed the fish platter away and picked up her father’s glass, twirling it slowly on top of the table in a circle. “It’s probably what we should do, yes. Dee, especially. She’s the cop. I’m just a lowly PI.” She took a sip of her scotch. “They should have already alerted the FBI to the money laundering, but they haven’t. If the Feds come in, they’re going to pounce on the gambling, the prostitution, the money trail. Three murders will fall through the cracks. And if they come in with guns blazing, then Michael Drake will disappear into the wind. He and whoever he works for.”
“Maybe he’s the boss. Of course I know you said Michael Drake wasn’t his real identity.”
“He could be, but I doubt it. Bosses don’t do their own dirty work.” Finn sighed heavily. “It’s late. I’m ready to call it a night. We’ll start early on these background checks. I want to get the profiles on Dee’s five sent to her before noon.”
“Okay.” Rylee looked over at Smokey, who was now sprawled out along the counter. “She’s made herself right at home, hasn’t she?”
Finn smiled as she looked at the cat. “She’s kinda cute. I can’t believe I’ve gotten attached to a damn cat.”
“Well, believe it. She’s sleeping with you.”
“Why me?”
“Because you have the litter box,” she reminded her. “Or do you sleep with your door open?”
“Open. You?”
“Closed. And I know, false sense of security like you said earlier.”
“We’ll be okay here. If anyone tries to break in, the alarms will go off.”
“They could still break in. How many minutes before the police come around?”
“Don’t worry. You have a gun. I have a gun.” Finn surprised her by reaching across the table and squeezing her arm. “But you are worried, huh?”
“A little. Obviously I feel safer here with you than I would alone at my apartment. Of course, I’m just your lowly assistant,” she said, using the word Finn had used to describe her. “I doubt they even know I exist or where I live.”
Finn leaned back again, her hand sliding off Rylee’s arm slowly. It was the first time Finn had touched her like that. She was surprised at how familiar it felt.
“Whether they know about you or not doesn’t matter. There’s no sense in taking a chance when you can stay here.”
Rylee met her gaze, then smiled. “Thank you for worrying about me, by the way.”
Finn returned her smile. “Not worrying really…I just don’t want to take chances.”
“You’re lying but thank you all the same.”
Finn laughed lightly. “Yeah…so I am.”
Rylee got up and placed the fish platter by the sink. She turned, leaning her hip against the counter.
“Why do you trust me?”
Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “Should I not?”
“You gave me a job when you didn’t want to hire me. You’ve let me tag along with you. You’ve brought me into your home. You’ve included me. Why?” Was it only because of that night? Was it because Rylee was somewhat familiar to her?
Finn shrugged but said nothing.
“You don’t have people in your life, Finn. You’ve said so and…well, it’s obvious. Yet you let me in.”
“I like to think I’m a good judge of character. Sammy, for instance. He was homeless. He showed up on my doorstep when I was just getting the building set up for an office. He was dirty and raggedy and I should have sent him on his way. Instead, I moved him upstairs a few days later.” Finn met her gaze, holding it. “I am a good judge of character. I felt so sure about you, I didn’t even do a background check.” She cupped the glass again, unconsciously perhaps. “There aren’t many people I trust. And no, there aren’t many—any—in my life, really. Dee…Dee and I met by chance and just clicked. And then you…”
Rylee felt mesmerized as their eyes held. “Me, what?” she asked quietly, hoping Finn might bring up that night. Hoping they could finally talk about it.
Finn twirled the empty glass around in her hand, a smile playing on her lips. “You…you barged in and demanded a job. Twice.” Finn’s eyes were fixed on the glass now, her thumb moving lightly across the etched K. She looked back up, once again capturing her eyes. “I found I couldn’t say no to you. I can’t say no to you.”
Rylee didn’t know what to say to that. Finn seemed so serious all of a sudden. She took a deep breath, smiling slightly as she shoved off the counter.
“Well, you know, you did say no,” she reminded Finn. “I was just…persistent.”
“Is that what you’re calling it?”
“Yes, persistent. You know, like…housekeeper-slash-receptionist.”
“Slash-assistant.”
Rylee grinned. “Slash-apprentice. See?”
“Oh, kid,” Finn said, with a shake of her head. “Why do you want in this line of work?”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not exciting. It’s not glamorous.”
“Who said I needed excitement and glamor? It’s been rather interesting so far, you have to admit.”
“You call this interesting? Hiding away like this? Hiding from someone? Someone we don’t know? Someone who would kill for this information that we now have?”
Rylee walked over to her, seeing genuine concern in her eyes. She reached out with one hand, hesitating only a second before cupping her cheek.
“Stop calling me a kid,” she whispered. “You, of all people, should know I’m not one.”
Chapter Forty-Four
Finn couldn’t seem to concentrate on her portion of the list. Her gaze—her attention—was drawn to Rylee, who was sitting across from her at the table. They each had their laptops open, cups of coffee sitting beside them. Finn had her notebook where she scribbled down information. She would use it later to compile a report on each of her five people, which was her normal routine. Rylee was working on her report as she went, foregoing the notepad.
Rylee glanced up and once again caught Finn staring. Finn looked away quickly, turning her attention back to Eric Lawrence. Perhaps she should have stayed in her office and worked. It would have been less distracting.
Distracting? Why was she letting Rylee distract her?
She’d never heard of Eric Lawrence before. Eric was in real estate. Apparently Eric didn’t bother with listings that were less than half a million. Eric was married with two young daughters. Eric owed a measly twenty grand for sex and/or gambling, according to this ledger. Judging by his assets, that was only a drop in the bucket. Why hadn’t he paid up?
She looked at Rylee over the top of her laptop. Rylee was distracting her because she was young and cute and…and, well, because memories of that night were fresh in her mind. Fresh, because she’d gone over them in very fine detail while she’d waited on sleep to come last night. Rylee had gotten into her personal space. Rylee apparently was comfortable being in her personal space. Maybe that’s what had her reeling a bit. She was comfortab
le with Rylee being there.
“Stop calling me a kid. You, of all people, should know I’m not one.”
No, Rylee was certainly no kid. And yes, Finn knew that as well as anyone. And then Rylee had cupped her cheek. Rylee had been leaning closer when she whispered those words last night. And for one crazy moment, Finn had thought Rylee was going to kiss her. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t speak. Right then…in that moment…with the air charged around them…she couldn’t take a breath.
But no, there was no kiss. Perhaps she was the only one feeling the charged air. Rylee had pulled away, taking her touch with her, and Finn wasn’t sure whether she was relieved or disappointed. She should have been relieved. She had no room—or time—in her life for a romantic twist with her new receptionist-slash-assistant. Yet the truth was, she was more disappointed than relieved.
But it was out in the open now, wasn’t it? You, of all people, should know I’m not one. Yes, it didn’t take a genius to know what Rylee was referring to. And that night, no, Rylee had been anything but a kid. So were they going to talk about it? Finally? No. Not yet, apparently.
Rylee had bid her a goodnight and gone into the guest bedroom, closing the door behind her. Finn had let Smokey climb into her lap and they’d sat there a while longer, her hand brushing through the cat’s fur time and again…her thoughts still on the woman who was sharing her house. She had no idea how long she’d sat there, how long visions of Rylee had tumbled around in her mind.
Rylee caught her staring once again, and this time Finn didn’t pull away. No, she looked into the blue eyes that were becoming so familiar to her, eyes that were familiar to her…blue eyes that held a hint of a question in them. Like why was Finn staring at her, maybe?
Finn cleared her throat before speaking. “How’s…how’s the list coming?”
“Just starting the last one.”
Finn nodded. She was only on her fourth one—Eric Lawrence. She looked at the time on her laptop. It was 10:36. “Are you getting hungry?”
“Past that. Can’t you hear my stomach rumbling?”
“I’m sorry I don’t have anything for breakfast here.”
“I snooped around this morning. You don’t have anything here except moldy bread that should have been thrown out weeks ago.”
“I don’t really ever think about going to the grocery store,” she apologized. “It’s easy to grab something while I’m out.”
“Easier than cooking for one?”
When was the last time she’d cooked something? she wondered. When she was living at the apartment—still a cop—she would attempt breakfast sometimes. Can’t really screw up scrambled eggs and toast. But since she’d been living here by the bay? Ten years now? Had she ever cooked a meal?
“Yeah…easier than cooking for one.”
Rylee smiled at her. “You don’t know how to cook, do you?”
Finn laughed. “No. You?”
“Yes. But since I’ve been in Corpus, very small scale. When I moved, I brought the bare minimum with me, thinking I could restock my kitchen after…well, after I had a job.” She leaned back and stretched her arms out behind her head with a smile. “Maybe I should stock your kitchen instead!”
“Yeah. Maybe when we’re out today, we could stop by a grocery store. Surprise Dee when she comes over tonight.”
“What are we going to do about Peterson? We’re supposed to be doing surveillance on his wife, aren’t we?”
“I know. I can’t decide what to do.”
“The wife didn’t leave her house until after two. We could still do a lunchtime stakeout first.”
Finn held up the list. “And who would be your first one?”
“I thought you wanted to start with the older Peterson.”
“But who would you start with?”
Rylee put her elbows on the table and folded her hands together. “Is this a test…or—”
“I want your opinion. You seem to have a knack for this.” Finn smiled at her. “Maybe you’ve found your calling.” Rylee seemed pleased with her statement, judging by the quick grin that lit her face.
“Oh. Well, in that case…” She rested her chin on her folded hands, her brow furrowed a bit. “I would start with Brett Peterson.”
“The man who hired us? Why?”
Rylee lifted her chin, her index fingers tapping against each other quickly. “Why did he hire us? What purpose could it serve him? I mean, assuming it’s a ruse, as you said. What is the purpose?”
“To get inside the office? Look around? Get a feel if I’m suspicious of him or not.”
“Right. If you’d already seen this list,” she said, motioning to the laptop, “then you would have reacted differently when you saw him. So if his reason for hiring you was bogus, why have his wife go through the motions of meeting up with Carlos Hernandez? At a sleazy apartment complex, no less.”
“So we wouldn’t know it was bogus,” Finn supplied.
“Right. But it didn’t have to happen. She could have stayed home or gone on about her normal routine. We would watch her for a week, report back to him that she never met up with anyone, and call it a wrap.”
Finn leaned her elbows on the table, mimicking Rylee. “Okay. I can practically see the wheels turning in your mind. What are your thoughts?”
“That Carlos is involved somehow…just not with the wife.” She waved a hand in the air. “But back to Peterson. He’s only a person on this list. Did he know that Daniel Frazier had this information? Do they all know? Or is Peterson involved higher up? Is he one of the founding members of this little club? Or his father, perhaps?”
“So you’re suggesting that this list of members was compiled by Daniel Frazier?”
“Yes.”
“For him to know who all was involved and how much debt they each had, then he had to be connected somehow. For him to know the account numbers, he had to be connected. Maybe he’s a founding member. Maybe he started the whole thing and that’s why the money moved through his restaurants.”
“Moved where, though? Moved to whom?” She leaned forward. “Who’s getting rich off of this little scheme, Finn? And from what you told me, he moved a lot more money through his restaurants than what these few guys would generate. And we now have the account numbers of where we assume the money went. If he was the one who started it, why would he need to hide this information? Why would someone kill for it?”
“Go back to what you said earlier. That Carlos was involved.”
“Oh, just a hunch. The likelihood that Lori Peterson ever heard of Carlos Hernandez before is slim to none. And what are the chances that Brett Peterson knows him simply from the cleaning crew? The cleaning crew that comes at midnight?”
“So you’re thinking Carlos is involved in this whole operation somehow?”
“Yes.”
“If that’s the case, then why would Brett Peterson lead us to him?”
Rylee frowned. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.”
“Carlos works for his uncle? He has a cleaning business?”
“Yes.”
“A lot of these guys are businessmen, professionals. With offices.”
Rylee’s eyes widened. “Who cleans their offices?”
Finn smiled and nodded. “Let’s see if we can’t find a common link with some of these members.”
Rylee rubbed her hands together. “Oh, this is fun!”
“We’ll need to wrap it up in about a half hour if we’re going to do a lunch stakeout.”
“Okay. But you have got to feed me something or I’ll be so cranky this afternoon that you won’t be able to stand me.”
“Duly noted.”
Chapter Forty-Five
Rylee put the binoculars down. “So Brett’s having lunch with Oliver Judge. That’s a great name for a prosecutor, isn’t it?”
“It’d be an even better name for a judge,” Finn said dryly.
“Well, perhaps he has aspirations.” She motioned to the deli shop they were
watching. “I wouldn’t think that two bigwig attorneys would lunch at a place like this.”
“If they had lunch at a fancy restaurant where other professionals went, they’d be easily recognized. Here? There’s probably not a soul in there who knows them.”
“I could go in, try to eavesdrop on their conversation,” she suggested, an idea which Finn immediately shot down.
“Absolutely not. I’d just as soon no one even knew you existed.”
Rylee wasn’t offended. She knew Finn was only trying to protect her. “Gonna hide me away, are you?”
Finn took a deep breath. “We don’t know who we’re dealing with. Professional killers, that’s for sure. If I feel like the situation is too dangerous, then yes, I’ll hide you away.”
“Surveillance is safe, then?”
Finn turned in her seat, looking at her. “You want to get thrown into the fire, is that it?”
Rylee met her gaze. “I don’t want you to baby me, Finn. I’m not a kid, even though you seem to think so. I worked in a man’s world for a long time. I know how to use a gun. I’m not a helpless kid,” she said again.
“This is different.”
“Why?”
“You don’t have experience in this.”
“That’s a lame excuse.”
Finn stared at her again. “Why are we arguing?”
“Are we arguing? I thought we were discussing.”
Finn smiled quickly. “Why do I feel like I’m no longer the boss around you?”
Rylee laughed. “I’m sorry. Yes, you are the boss. I’m only your trusty sidekick. I should be thankful you’re trying to keep me out of harm’s way.”
“Yes, you should.”
Rylee tucked her hair behind her ears. “Once we find out what is going on, we’re going to turn that information over to someone, right? The FBI? I mean, you and Dee aren’t going to try to do something stupid and confront them, right?”