Chapter 24
Stan was hungry so he drove down the street to Denny’s and ordered chicken friend steak. He knew it would probably be a long night, so he ate heartily. As he was leaving he bought a copy of the Dallas Morning News. He was anxious to see if there was any new polling on the State Representative’s race or stories about Representative Ron Wells.
When he got to his motel room he went through the paper cover to cover but didn’t see anything. He wondered if the press had swallowed Well’s claim that he had no knowledge that he was an investor in Silver Springs Ventures. The phone rang and he picked it up.
“Stan. We’re here and setting up downstairs in the conference room.”
“You’re here at the Best Western?”
“Yes, we don’t have a lot of preparation time, so we decided to come to you.”
“Great. I’ll come down.”
“Good. See you in a minute.”
Stan put down the newspaper and went into the bathroom to take a look at himself. On careful inspection he noticed he had dark shadows under his eyes from lack of sleep. He suddenly felt exhausted. How long could he keep up his insane schedule? As soon as the election was over it would be different he told himself. After splashing water on his face he grabbed a towel, dried himself and then went downstairs. He saw a pot of coffee as he stepped in the room so he went directly over to it and poured himself a cup. He didn’t really like coffee that much but needed the caffeine to stay awake.
“Hi. Stan,” Agent Rutledge said from behind him.
He turned and smiled. “Hey.”
“Did you get a good nights’ sleep?”
Stan shrugged. “Not really.”
Rutledge laughed. “Have a seat.”
Stan took a seat at the conference table and the others joined him.
“So, tell us. How did you track Morales down?” Agent Rutledge asked.
Stan looked around the table and counted Rutledge, Adams and six others. He explained how he and Paula had poured through all the records and then cross referenced them with new business entities that were set up through the Secretary of State’s office.
“Impressive,” Agent Rutledge said.
“Well, luckily I was taking Business Entities at SMU, and I picked my professor’s brain. I don’t think he’s ever had a student ask so many questions. Usually they have to pry questions out of students.”
“That’s great—very resourceful. You’ve got to bring Paula around to meet me sometime.”
“I will. I also figured out how they used Summit Leasing to launder their money.”
“You did?” Agent Adams asked.
“Yeah. Judging from their overpriced leasing contracts, they buy an asset for say $1,000 and then lease it for $150 a month for five years. That way, they are able to launder $9,000 for every $1,000 of investment. Since all of their new companies lease all of their assets, the amount of money they launder is staggering, but if you look at the books, it all looks legit. The only thing out of whack is the owner capital account, but as that grows, it just makes the business appear stronger. Of course, the IRS would have a field day auditing them.
“So, how do you know so much about accounting?” Agent Adams asked.
“Oh. I minored in business and finance at UCLA. I figured a lawyer would have to understand business, and accounting and bookkeeping were major facets of every business.”
“That’s certainly true,” Agent Adams said. “Now the problem we have right now is like you say, everything on paper looks legit. The cartel has the best accountants money can buy, so to nail them for money laundering is not going to be easy.”
“Right,” Stan acknowledged. “So, what do you need me to do.”
“We need to prove the books are fraudulent, that assets don’t exist or income and expenses are bogus.”
“Well, I would hazard a guess that some of the leased equipment doesn’t exist. There are so many companies involved it would be easy to fabricate purchase orders and bills of sale.”
“Right. So, we need all of Summit’s leases and leased asset records.”
“That’s too many documents to copy or steal from the office. Plus I doubt I could get access to the copier or the files to do it.”
“Right. All you need to do is get us enough evidence to convince a judge to give us a search warrant.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“Proof that a crime is being committed. Even if you found one lease that you could prove was bogus, that would be enough for the warrant.”
Stan handed Agent Adams two envelopes. “Well, yesterday they had me working on new leases. These are the ones I did yesterday. All the pertinent info on each I wrote down on those two envelopes. The lessees, terms, equipment being leased, etc. You can start with those and go to those affiliated businesses and see if the equipment is there. If it’s not, then you’d have probably cause.”
“Unfortunately, if we start walking into Morales’s business operations it will throw up a red flag and Morales may run.”
“We could send somebody in posing as a county tax auditor,” Agent Rutledge said. They could say they were auditing the company’s personal property tax return. If they weren’t paying taxes on the leased equipment or it wasn’t there, we’d have what we needed.”
Agent Adams looked at a female at the table. “Okay, Margo. Take Stan’s list and do that first thing tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” Margo replied.
Agent Adams got up and retrieved a set of plans of Summit’s building and spread it out on the table. Stan recognized the layout of the building.
“Stan, can you tell us what’s in all of these rooms?”
Stan nodded. “Most of it.” He stood up and started pointing. “That’s the warehouse. This is the office. The accounts receivable office is on this side of the room and payables on the other. A couple of supervisor are at the front of the room.” He pointed to a string of offices in the back. “Here we have the offices of the operations officer, production manager and a conference room, janitor’s closet.”
Agent Adams pointed to a large closet connected to the operations officer’s room. “What’s this.”
“I tried to get in that office while the operations officer was talking to Morales but it was locked. Unfortunately, they didn’t have a class on lock picking at UCLA.”
They all laughed.
“They reason I ask,” Adams said, “is that this room is coded for special construction. In other words, it’s not to be constructed like the rest of the offices. The walls are shown to be thicker and reinforced. Unfortunately, this drawing doesn’t give us the exact specifications for the room, but it obviously has a special purpose.”
“You mean like a vault?” Stan said.
“Precisely. They may keep sensitive documents there, cash, drugs, who the hell knows?”
“So you want me to see what’s inside that closet.”
“That would be ideal, but we don’t want to you to get hurt either. See if you can at least get into the office. Maybe the door will be open and you can take a peak inside.”
“Maybe Blanche has reason to go into that office. If so, she might be able to take a look or she can send me there.”
“Right. Just try to find out what’s in there. And give us all the info on the new leases you process. In the meantime we’ll be working other angles.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll have a couple of agents apply at Peakload and go in as temps tomorrow to provide you backup. If anything goes awry they’ll only be seconds away. We’ll wire you up so you can feed us info during the day.”
Stan sighed. “Okay. Is that it?”
“Yes. Get a good nights’ sleep and we’ll see you here tomorrow at six.”
Stan thanked them and retired to his room. He called Rebekah again to say good night but she didn’t pick up the phone. He then called Paula to update her on what was happening.
“You’re staying anothe
r day?”
“Yeah. They need more evidence to nail Morales.”
“Do you want me to come help?”
“No. You can’t miss anymore school and I’m not sure what you could do anyway. There will be a couple agents hiring on at Peakload, so I’ll have backup.”
“Hmm. You always have all the fun,” Paula teased.
“Yeah. Well, I seemed to remember you having fun down at San Antonio Del Mar.”
“Right. That was awesome. Next time write me into your script, okay?”
“Alright. Sorry.”
“Keep me posted and keep safe.”
“I will. Thanks for all your help.”
“Bye.”
Stan called Rebekah again but she didn’t pick up. He watched the ten o’clock news and then went to bed. The next thing he knew the phone was ringing. He picked it up. “This is your wake-up call,” a cheerful voice said.
“Thanks,” he moaned and turned over.
Reluctantly he got dressed and went downstairs. The team was already hard at work. He went to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup and grabbed a donut. Agent Rutledge looked up and waived him over.
“Hey, Stan. Sleep good?”
He shrugged. “As well as to be expected.”
“I guest your first task will be to talk to Blanche and get her onboard.”
“Right.”
Agent Rutledge handed Stan an envelope. “We did some research on Blanche and she’s in desperate financial straights. Here is $2,000. Give this to her and tell her if we are successful at getting the evidence we need on Morales they’ll be another two grand for her.”
“Okay,” Stan replied, surprised by the gesture.
“I think she would have done it for nothing, but the cash can’t hurt.”
“No. . . . Okay, Agent Adams will wire you up and then you will be good to go.”
“Alright. I have to go to Peakload and get assigned to Summit for the day.”
“Right. Do what you have to do.”
After the wire was installed Stan drove his car to Peakload. Two agents followed him and they all walked into the office together. There was a long line so they waited impatiently while everyone in front of them were processed. When Stan finally got to the front of the line he gave the clerk his info sheet.
“Okay, we have the battery acid plant, Gordon’s Nursery and Community Hospital available.”
Stan felt weak. “What? No Summit Leasing? That’s where I want to go.”
“Well, we haven’t got any requests for them today.”
“Are you sure?” Stan said desperately.
The clerk rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. Do you see their name on the list.”
Stan sighed. “No, but I was told to come back there today.”
“Well, there’s no request.”
“Can you call over there? Ask for Blanche.”
The clerk just gave Stan a long stare. Finally she said, “Okay. I’ll give Blanche a call.”
The clerk dialed the number and waited. She asked for Blanche and waited again. There was a short exchange and then the clerk handed Stan the phone. “She wants to talk to you.”
Stan took the phone. “Blanche.”
“What’s going on Stan. I thought you were through here?”
“Something came up. I need another day. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“You know how hard it is to find a decent job?”
“Yes. Like I said. I’ll make it worth your while. Just give me another day. Please, and you need to request two other laborers.”
She laughed. “You don’t want much, do you? How am I supposed to explain this to my boss?”
“You’ll think of something. You’re a smart girl.”
She sighed. “Okay, put the clerk back on the phone.”
Stan handed the phone to the clerk and she put the phone up to her ear. She nodded and then wrote Summit Leasing on her list. “Right. I’ll send them right over.”
The clerk looked up at Stan. “Okay, she said she did need you. Go ahead on over there.”
“Great,” Stan said, relief washing over him.
“They need two general laborers’ too.”
The two agents standing behind Stan raised their hands. The clerk waived them forward and gave them their credentials. They all left in separate cars.
When Stan got there he went straight to Blanche’s desk. She looked up at him skeptically. “So, you couldn’t stay away, huh?”
“No. I enjoyed working with you so much I had to come back.”
“Right. I was expecting the place to be closed down today.”
“Yeah. Me too, but we’re not quite ready. Can I do what I was doing yesterday?”
Blanche looked over at a desk where a young girl was working. “Gail. Go help Jill with payables.”
The girl nodded and left the desk.
“It’s all yours.”
“Lets talk at break,” Stan suggested.
“Yes. Definitely.”
Stan resumed where he had left off the day before and managed to document twelve more leases before it was time for the ten o’clock break. When the buzzer sounded Stan followed Blanche to the break room. They both got a Coke and a bag of potato chips and then took a walk in the equipment yard behind the building.
“So, you’re back,” Blanche said.
“Yes. I need your help?. . . We need your help.”
“Who’s we?”
“Me and the FBI. We need your help in gathering evidence so we can get a warrant to search this place. We’re close to having enough already but we need more.”
“So, how can I help?”
“You know the room or large closed attached to the Manager’s office?”
“The storage room?”
“Is that what it’s called?”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever been in there?”
“No.”
“Have you ever looked inside it?”
“No. I rarely go into the Manager’s office. He usually comes out here to talk to us.”
“Well, we suspect there may be incriminating evidence in there. One of us needs to get a look inside.”
“It’s locked and it’s not a cheap lock. You have to have two separate keys.”
“How do you know that?”
“I was in there one time when it was opened. Carlos had one key and the Manager had the other.”
“But you didn’t see what was inside.”
“No. I couldn’t see inside from where I was standing.”
“Damn it. I need to see what’s in there.”
“It’s opened every night at five when the Brinks truck comes to pick up the days’ receipts from the retail store.”
“So it is a vault?”
“They don’t call it a vault, but it may be. I don’t know.”
“Okay, will you help us?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Carlos Morales isn’t the kind of guy a girl wants to cross.”
“No. You’re right. But I don’t think he’ll ever pick up that you’ve helped us.”
Blanche didn’t say anything.
“Ah. If you help I’ve two grand for you and if we get what we need there will be another two grand for you.”
Blanche’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?”
“Yes. This is very important. I’ll give you two grand right now if you agree.”
Blanche smiled. “Count me in then. I get to help nail the bastard and get paid for it to boot. How can a girl turn down such a good deal?”
Stan laughed and pulled the envelope from his pocket and handed it to Blanche.
“Okay. We better get back. Break time is about over.”
She nodded and they walked back into the building and resumed their work. At lunch Stan made a point to eat with one of the undercover agents and told him his idea. Agent Rutledge was listening in down in the utility van down the street and gave them the go ahead. On the way back to his work station, Stan w
andered through the facility looking for anything suspicious. As he walked by the loading van he saw a white van and two men unloading boxes. He watched where the two men bring the boxes in but was surprised when, instead of taking them into the warehouse they took them to the manager’s office. He verbally stated the vans make, model and license number and destination of its cargo and then went back to his station.
At the three o’clock break Stan called Rebekah. She picked up.
“Are you done yet. Are you on your way home?” she asked.
“Almost. Hopefully it will all be over at five. I tried to call you last night but you didn’t answer.”
“I went to bed early.”
“Hmm. You feeling alright?”
“I miss you and the kids don’t understand why you’re not home.”
“I know. I’m sorry. In a few days this will all be over. The election will be over and life can get back to normal.”
“Yeah, but normal for you is still exhausting.”
Stan laughed. “We’ll that’s true.”
“Be careful, okay. We need you.”
“I will. See you soon.”
Stan hung up feeling better that Rebekah was talking to him again. He looked at his watch and wondered if there was anything else he could do before the five o’clock fireworks began and all hell broke loose. He noticed one of the men who had been unloading the van go out in the yard and light up a cigarette. Stan didn’t smoke, but he decided today he might have to take it up again. He followed the man outside and bummed a cigarette from him.
“Did you hire on with Peakload?” he asked.
The man shook his head. “No, man. I don’t work for Summit.”
“Oh. Just a delivery driver, huh?”
“Un huh.”
“Have to travel a long way?”
“No. Just from Dallas.”
“Hmm. I’m just working temporary. I really need a full time job. Does your company have any openings.”
He laughed. “No, you don’t want to work for my boss.”
Stan laughed with him. “Why not?”
“Well, the pay is good, but there’s no benefits and if you screw up the boss will put a bullet in your head.”
“Excuse me!” Stan exclaimed.
The man tossed his cigarette to the ground and crushed it with his boot. “Forget it, man. You’re better off where you are, trust me.”
Stan lost his cigarette and then went inside. He grimaced over the foul taste in his mouth from smoking. Agent Rutledge came on through his ear piece.
“Nice work, Stan. You might have just got us what we needed. The judge will love the part about his boss putting a bullet in his head. But you need the guy’s name and the company he works for.”
“I know. I was trying to get that out of him, but I couldn’t.”
“Look in his truck. There may be something in the cab with that information.”
Stan walked over to the van and looked around. He didn’t see anyone so he looked into the open window. There was a clipboard and a packing slip attached to it. The company name was Cabrillo Couriers and the signature at the bottom read Luis Reyes. Stan turned to leave and Luis was staring him in the face.
“What you doing, man?” he demanded pushing Stan away.
Stan raised his hands. “Nothing? Just checking out your new van. Pretty nice. How does it ride? I was thinking about buying a conversion van for the family. They say on TV these new vans ride like a passenger car. Are they right?”
Luis shook his head. “No. They’re lying. It rides like a regular truck, man. Now get away. If Jose sees you messing with his van he’ll kick your ass.”
“Oh, sorry,” Stan said making a hasty retreat.
When Stan got back inside he whispered what he’d learned for Agent Rutledge’s benefit. “Cabrillo Couriers, driven by Jose, last name unknown, and Luis Reyes, both Hispanic males in their mid-twenties.”
“Got it. Thanks, Stan.”
Stan entered the office and headed for his desk. Blanche looked at him nervously as he went by. She nodded toward a tall man with a shaved head by the door. Stan took a deep breath, glanced at the man, and then smiled back at her. He looked again and noticed the man’s arms were covered with tattoos and he had a scowl on his face. Stan looked at his watch and saw that it was four o’clock. He still had an hour to kill until the storage room would be opened. He started going through leases again wondering why the man was there and trying no to look at him. Finally, he turned and left.
At 4:55 Blanche got up and went out into the hallway. A moment later Stan left and went directly to the manager’s office. Precisely at 5:00 p.m. Blanche tripped the fire alarm. Stan immediately broke into the Manager’s office and yelled. “There’s a fire. Everybody out. There’s a fire.”
The manager rose from his desk as Stan rushed by him toward the storage room. The two men in the room looked up in surprise. Stan took a quick mental inventory of the room. “Fire! Fire! Everyone evacuate!”
The manager came around his desk and tried to stop Stan but he eluded him and went back out into the hallway.
“Okay. I saw two pallets of cash, I couldn’t tell the denomination and I saw guns, lots of guns.”
“What kind of guns,” Agent Rutledge asked. “Rifles, machine guns, all kinds of guns.”
“Alright. We’ve got an agent with the Judge. He’s sighing the search warrant as we speak..”
The two FBI agents working undercover stepped inside the managers’ office, showed their badges and took the three men into custody without resistence. Then the main FBI SWAT team began swarming in from all directions. Stan left and went out the front door to his car.
“Am I done?” Stan asked.
“Yes. For now,” Agent Rutledge replied. “Go over to the command center and let us remove your wire. Then you can go. We’ll need to debrief you tomorrow.”
“Okay. Did you arrest Morales?”
“No. But we will soon. He’s in Texarkana right now. We’ve got a tail on him.”
“Don’t let him get away.”
“We won’t.”
“Alright. I’m on my way over.”
“Thanks Stan. You did a great job.”
“No. Problem. Glad it worked out.”
As soon as the wire had been removed Stan drove back to Dallas, praying the FBI would arrest Morales soon. If they didn’t find him, all his efforts would not only have been in vain, but Morales and Rubio would be after his blood. Stan pushed the speed limit as he sped down I20 toward Dallas.
When he walked in the door, Rebekah looked up at him, a look of astonishment on her face. “Stan! They caught Morales!” she exclaimed. “It was just on the news! They arrested Carlos Morales. Can you believe it?”
Stan smiled, relief surging over him like cool rain on a hot day. He went to Rebekah and swung her around like he hadn’t seen her in a hundred years. She laughed and hugged him tightly.
“I feel like celebrating,” Stan said. “Let’s take the kids to your mother’s and then go out on the town.”
She laughed. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” he replied, drawing her close to him and giving her a long kiss. “Now all I have to worry about is the election.”
Stan wondered now that Morales was in custody if the rest of the indictments would come down before election day. Realistically he didn’t think that would happen. Seeing the concern on his face, Rebekah came over to him.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Just worried about the election on Tuesday.”
“Well, the latest poll said Kristina is only two points down, so she might pull it off.”
Stan looked at Rebekah and raised his eyebrows. “Wow. Did I note a bit of optimism from my wife?”
Rebekah laughed. “Then again, two points is a lot to make up in three days.”
Stan shook his head. “Call your mother. We should call Lynn Jenkins too. He’ll probably want to celebrate.”
&n
bsp; “What about the Shepards? They certainly should be happy their son’s killer has been arrested.”
“Good idea. The more the merrier.”
An hour later, they had all gathered at Cheddars to celebrated Carlos Morales’ arrest. Stan filled everyone in on most of what had happened, and they all listened with amazement. Rebekah shook her head disapprovingly, as much of what he told them she hadn’t yet heard about. After dinner, as they were preparing to leave, Stan noticed Melissa Thornton in a corner booth with a tall, muscular, Hispanic man. When their eyes met, she turned away. About that time, Tom grabbed the check and insisted on paying it. Stan protested, to no avail, and when he looked back over into the corner, Melissa and her friend were gone.
A moment later, there was a commotion at the door as several reporters and their cameramen entered the restaurant. Stan watched them argue with the manager, and finally they sat down and waited. A few moments later, the manager came to their table and advised them there were some members of the media who wanted to interview Stan and the Shepards.
Stan looked at Tom. “You feel like talking?” Stan asked.
Tom shook his head. “Not really.”
“Me either,” Stan agreed, turning to the manager. “Is there a back way out of here?”
The manager nodded and pointed to a back door. They all said their goodbyes and made their way outside, careful to avoid the reporters standing around the front door. On the way home, Stan couldn’t get the image of Melissa Thornton eating dinner with a strange man out of his head. He wondered why she had looked at him the way she had and why she had left as soon as he noticed her. Something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it could be.
The next day Stan went to FBI headquarters in Dallas for the debriefing. He was meticulously questioned by several agents and then made to write a full account of what happened. After he’d signed the statement Agent Rutledge called him into her office.
“Well. I guess that does it. Thanks again.”
“So, did Morales lawyer up the moment you arrested him?”
“No. He did some talking. He denied knowing anything about Brad Thornton’s assassination.”
“Really?”
“Un huh.”
“Well, I guess a confession would have been a lot to ask.”
“Right.”
Stan left feeling relieved that he was done with his criminal investigations. He decided he didn’t like criminal law all that much and would probably stick to civil law when he graduated from SMU. He couldn’t imagine having to defend people like Carlos Morales or even white collar criminals like Brad Thornton. He wanted to work with clients he liked and respected. But what he wanted and what fate had in store from him was quite different.
Disillusioned, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 2 Page 24
