“I have to run that through my boss—I can’t go outside without permission.”
“But Max and Sean don’t have the same problem.”
“Except now that we’re working together, I have to take responsibility. I worry about giving a clean case to the AUSA.”
“It puts you in a tough spot. But I also know you’ll tap into any and all resources to solve these crimes.”
He was right. And now that Ricky was coming home, Lucy didn’t have time to waste.
Chapter Twenty-one
Lucy asked to meet with her boss to go over the case. She dreaded the conversation, but she had to come clean about Nate. They’d discussed it and he agreed—she wouldn’t have said anything unless Nate was on board. But this had a direct impact on their case, and the fact that a cop may be party to a capital offense meant that the higher-ups needed to know.
Nate could be brought up to the Office of Professional Responsibility. He could be written up, suspended, demoted—but he was no longer a rookie, and that gave him a bit of protection. He took a sick day and was off the clock. The problem was the government had strict rules about federal employees traveling to Mexico and Central America even on their personal time.
Lucy also needed a warrant. She wanted Denise Albright’s signatory card from the bank, and an expert to compare it to the Kiefer authorization they had. If she could prove that Pollero was lying, she could compel him to talk to her. He might call for a lawyer, but eventually he would need to answer questions if she proved that the woman he said was Denise Albright wasn’t Denise Albright. That would make him criminally liable for the $3 million he helped steal from Henry Kiefer.
Lucy closed the door behind her. Rachel was typing on the computer. “One second, Lucy … Okay. Done. You have a breakthrough?”
“Yes. I may need a warrant, but let me lay it out for you.”
“I’m all yours.”
Talking to Dillon had helped Lucy create a logical timeline, so she could clearly outline her theory that the bank manager had lied three years ago that Denise Albright had come to the bank to change the authorization on Kiefer’s account, that there was no physical evidence except for his word that she was there, and that the image he provided was indistinct, at best.
“What is his motive? Are you accusing him of killing the Albright family as well?”
“No,” Lucy said slowly. “Nate and I believe there were multiple people involved in this conspiracy, which may include a law enforcement officer.”
“Well, shit. I hope you have hard evidence to back that up.”
“We will. Which brings me to why Nate isn’t here.”
“I’m not going to like this, am I?”
“We’ve retraced Ricky’s steps the day his family disappeared and believe he’s alive and has been hiding out in Mexico.”
Lucy told her everything about their interviews, showing her the letter from Ricky to Ginny, and what Ricky told Ginny the day the two detectives from the sheriff’s department came to interview the family. Then she told her that Nate had gone down to Ciudad Victoria with Ginny’s father to find Ricky.
Rachel was quiet. Too quiet, and Lucy feared the worst.
“You believe this girl,” Rachel finally said.
“Yes. Ricky didn’t tell her which cop had broken into his house, Detective Chavez or Detective Douglas. But he was terrified of at least one of them.”
Rachel sat there for another long minute, her face blank, but clearly she wasn’t happy with this turn of events. No one wanted to go after a fellow cop—but it was their duty and obligation.
“Tell me about the cops.”
Lucy recapped her experience with Douglas and Chavez, and added, “Honestly, it could be either of them, but Douglas avoided us on Monday and cut our conversation short on Tuesday. We were followed both days after we left the sheriff’s department.”
“Are you saying that one of the detectives followed you?”
“No, I doubt it. The vehicles were unmarked black SUVs. We need Ricky to identify who he saw, and we need his written statement about what he heard when he was hiding in the closet.”
“Which any defense lawyer will throw out. He was nine years old at the time, he’s remembering something that happened more than three years ago. If the prosecution even put him on the stand, which I highly doubt they would, the defense would destroy him without even trying that hard.”
“I’m going to do my job and find evidence outside of Ricky’s testimony, but if one of those cops is involved, we need to take him down. If we go after both of them and only one is guilty, it’ll taint our relationship with that department for decades. Talking to the bank manager—if I can prove he’s lying—could give us the information we need.”
She reminded Rachel about the unclear photo from the border that could have been anyone, and that all evidence suggested that the Albrights were killed that Friday—and therefore Denise couldn’t have transferred the money the following week.
“There’s one more thing. You heard about the shooting at the courthouse.”
“Yes. Your husband was there.”
Rachel did keep her ear to the ground.
“He was hired by an investigative reporter, Maxine Revere.”
“Your friend.”
Lucy hesitated. “Yes. She and Sean have been looking into the Victoria Mills murder, an SAPD case. In the course of their investigation, they learned that my victim, Denise Albright, was the maid of honor at Victoria Mills’s wedding. We don’t believe it’s a coincidence that they are both dead. But we have nothing yet to connect the crimes. So I decided that Nate and I would continue investigating the Albright family and Max and Sean are investigating the Mills murder and they promised to let me know if they find anything that we can use to tie them together.”
“You said it yourself: The Mills homicide is an SAPD case. They have not asked for our help. You cannot involve yourself unless you, through your investigation, have direct evidence that the two cases are connected. If you do, then talk to the detective in charge, give her the information you have, and go from there. Maybe she’ll agree to work with you, you can be convincing. But we have to tread carefully.” Rachel paused. “I suppose there’s no way to encourage Sean to stand down.”
“He’s invested in the case. And they have access to a lot of the Mills financial records through Victoria’s father, who asked Max to get involved in the first place.”
“It’s a tightrope, Lucy.”
“I know.”
“Keep me informed.”
“I will.”
She couldn’t believe it was that easy. She stood up.
“Lucy, did you think I wouldn’t notice that you slipped into the conversation that Nate went to Mexico without authorization or approval?”
She sat back down.
“He took sick time.”
“It’s vacation time, and I don’t know where he went, understand? But this could blow up in our faces.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Put together the information for the warrant and I’ll expedite it, you’ll have it by the morning. I don’t have anyone available on the squad. Laura Williams is done with her part of the trial, take her with you—I’ll talk to Daphne and also ask for two of her agents to back you up.”
“Okay. Thank you, Rachel.”
“Keep tabs on Nate, I want him back in one piece.”
“So do I.”
Lucy ran back to her desk to put together the information for the warrant, relieved and worried.
That was too easy.
Chapter Twenty-two
WEDNESDAY EVENING
Over Skype, Max went through everything she and Sean had learned with Ryan—the theory of illegal gambling going back to college, the accusations of blackmail, the land deals, money laundering. As she spoke, she knew she was right about the big picture, that Harrison Monroe was in the middle of a massive criminal conspiracy and everyone around him was involved in one capaci
ty or another.
It would be extremely difficult to prove it. She had no hard evidence, only theories based on circumstantial evidence.
Sean sat next to her and interjected when he had something to add. Ryan listened, asked questions, took notes.
“As far as a criminal case, the FBI doesn’t have an active investigation into Harrison Monroe—I checked. So if we were going to start an investigation, it would take months to build it. That’s going to have to be done at the local level. Based on what you have here, you might be able to get someone to look, but they won’t be getting a warrant for any of the information you need—not without evidence of criminal misconduct. And on the surface, there is none.”
Max knew he was right, but she didn’t want to hear it. She had hoped for some sort of crumb, something that excited Ryan so that he would dig deeper using the resources at his disposal.
Mostly, she didn’t want to hear it because she didn’t want to stay in San Antonio for the next few months uncovering that piece of evidence to give the FBI something to go after. If she was going to spend all that time and energy, she would prove it and produce a Maximum Exposure show—then turn over the evidence to the FBI.
And she didn’t want to be away from Eve and Ryan that long.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” Ryan said. “You look really pissed.”
“What if we convince Simon or Mitch to talk?” Max said.
“Assuming that one of them is privy to crimes and is willing to talk even though they may be prosecuted, all the information they provide would need to be verified. It might be enough for a warrant for financial information and if it’s a felony would most likely open the investigation, but it would still take time to build a case against Monroe. If he’s guilty of the crimes you believe he is, then he’s been evading authorities for more than two decades. Any crime he committed in college, short of murder, the statute of limitations is long up. Your college informant isn’t going to help.”
“He clued us in on how Monroe operated then, and we’re using that to figure out his operation now.”
Sean said, “I spoke with a friend of mine at SAPD off the record. She works Vice and knows most of the illegal gaming operations in the area. One operation fits better than others.”
“Why?”
“There’s been no sign that Monroe is involved in the sex trade. My contact would have at least heard his name, and she hadn’t. But there’s a high-end, high-roller underground casino. They ostensibly raise money for charity, but it’s a well-known secret that it’s actually illegal gaming. They don’t run prostitutes—though some of the high-end call girls work the club. I could get in, but Monroe’s people have seen me.”
“And what would you learn? If it’s a front, they’re not going to let anyone see the real operation.”
“I count cards.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“It’s not a crime, it’s just against casino rules.”
“So you’re thinking if you can get in, flash some cash, show that you’re lucky, they’d invite you to a high-end game.”
“Yes, though I have to find someone else.”
“Hmm. Well, it’s interesting. Maybe. But again, that’s a long-tail game.”
Max said, “What do I need to find? Don’t think like a cop, think like a reporter. The evidence is out there—land transactions generate a ton of paperwork.”
“Yes. And eventually, someone in authority may ask Monroe where he got the money. But the guy is a successful financial planner. He pays his taxes on time. He is married to a lawyer—and I don’t want to spar with a guy who has his own in-house counsel, so to speak. You need to tread carefully. And you could be wrong.”
“I’m not wrong,” she said.
Ryan smiled. “Ever confident.”
“Stanley Grant was gunned down in broad daylight in front of the courthouse because he knew something. He mentioned Harrison Monroe—it was the only substantive thing he gave us. And the guy with the scar. We saw him, he followed us from Monroe’s building.”
Ryan leaned forward. “You didn’t tell me that,” he said, angry. “They don’t know that he didn’t tell you. Going face-to-face with Monroe was dangerous.”
She chose to ignore his comment. “Someone has the evidence. I’m betting I can get Simon to talk.”
“Mitch,” Sean said.
Max resisted rolling her eyes. She and Sean had a serious disagreement about who was more likely to spill information—Victoria’s brother or her ex-husband.
“We’re going to talk about your safety later, Maxine,” Ryan said.
“I’ve talked to hotel security,” Sean said, trying to mediate.
“You shouldn’t let her out of your sight.”
“Do not ever talk about me as if I’m not here,” Max said. “I’m taking precautions, but if they thought I knew the truth they would have already gone after me.”
“You’re asking questions—why can’t you see the obvious?”
“Let’s move on. Do you have anything else for us?” Max said. She didn’t want to be angry with Ryan, but she didn’t need coddling.
It was clear he didn’t want to, but he looked at his notes and a moment later said, “One thing you haven’t explained is how this possible gambling-land scheme led to murder. If Victoria Mills’s company was involved with the land transactions, that doesn’t de facto make her guilty of anything illegal. Money launderers use law-abiding citizens all the time to move money.”
“Victoria’s best friend was Denise Albright,” Max said. “They were friends in college. Victoria was killed the night after Denise’s bones were found. Everyone believed Albright left the country to avoid prosecution because she embezzled three million from her employer. I think she was killed because she found out what was going on with Monroe. She was an accountant. Maybe she found evidence of the illegal acts. Maybe she wanted to do the right thing and was killed for it.”
“You’re stretching. And even if it’s true, no judge is going to give you a warrant because of a coincidence.”
“Lucy said the same thing.”
“Smart woman. I see what you’re getting at, Max—I love the way your mind works. But there’s just not enough to go on.” Ryan paused, then said, “If you are right—”
“I am right.”
“—then you have to be doubly careful. Because you’re investigating something no one else is investigating. If these people are as ruthless as they appear, then they’re not going to think twice about going after a reporter.”
“I have Sean.”
“And I respect Sean’s skills, but he could end up dead, too. Don’t do anything to get dead, Max.”
“I am being cautious, Ryan, but this is what I do. I’m not going to back down just because there’s a little heat.”
“I know, and I love you for it, but I still worry.” He paused, then said, “Remember Al Capone?”
“I didn’t know him personally,” Max said snidely.
Ryan smiled. “He was guilty of a multitude of crimes, but we couldn’t get him because either he killed witnesses or they were too scared to talk. He killed or had killed dozens of people, no evidence.”
“And Eliot Ness got him on tax evasion.”
“This might be a reverse situation. In the twenty-first century, law enforcement is much better at evidence collection and criminals are much better at hiding white collar crimes. We have DNA, we have security cameras, we have modern technology. Following the paper trail and proving that Monroe and his cohorts are not only running an illegal gambling operation but laundering their illegal profits through land transactions is possible, but it’s not likely and would take months, if not years. It’s in fact extremely difficult, not just because of the statute of limitations—depending on how long this has been going on—but also because he has a legitimate business and makes a good income in that legitimate business. And his wife is a lawyer, which is going to make any AUSA think twice ab
out pursuing it without something tangible.”
“So you’re saying, catch him on the murder charge,” Sean said.
“Exactly.”
“Which is the one thing I can’t do,” Max said, “because I’m not a cop.”
“This might be the time for the FBI to bring the scenario to SAPD and see what they think.”
“We’ll talk to Lucy,” Sean said. “She may have a witness to the Albright murders. Not an eyewitness, but Lucy and her people are tracking him down now.”
Max didn’t like Ryan’s analysis, though it made sense. “Harrison Monroe doesn’t get his hands dirty,” she said. “He’s a short, quiet, mild-mannered, impeccably dressed financial planner who looks the part. I don’t see him standing in front of a woman and stabbing her. I don’t see him pulling the trigger from a moving car and killing a potential witness. He’s ordering the murders, but he’s not committing them.”
“If someone comes clean we can get him on first-degree murder even if he didn’t pull the trigger. This is really a RICO case, Max, and I’ve been part of them, but it’s usually a large team of agents working multiple angles to take down as many people in a criminal organization as possible through a lot of tedious paperwork, analysis, investigation, and collecting evidence. Being a cop is not all glamour and recovering priceless artwork, sweetheart.”
“Which is why I’m not a cop,” she countered.
“You do your fair share of the unglamorous grunt work. Want to talk to Eve? She’s clamoring to say hi.”
“Am not,” Eve said from the background.
“Of course I want to talk to her.”
Sean said, “Thanks, Ryan, I’m going to call Lucy and see what’s keeping her.”
Sean stepped into the next room as Eve popped up in the Skype window next to Ryan. “When are you coming back?” she asked.
“I wish I was on a plane now,” Max said, and meant it. “This might be one of the few cases I can’t solve.”
“Stay then,” Eve said. “I don’t want you to regret not finishing it just because of me.”
“That is certainly not the reason,” Max said. “Ryan can explain all the nitty-gritty to you, but it sounds like my skills aren’t sufficient.”
Cut and Run Page 23
