Donna looked at her watch and waited. At three minutes and thirteen seconds the first man arrived back at the vehicle. He opened the back right passenger door, got in, and shut the door. At five minutes and three seconds the second man returned. He made his way into the SUV through the back left passenger door. The first man who arrived back must have had the key. He unlocks the vehicle and then sits inside.
At seven minutes and thirty-four seconds the driver appeared, but he didn’t enter the vehicle. He walked inside the bank where he had parked. At nine minutes and seven seconds he was back in the driver’s seat and they were pulling away.
She thought she had the break she was after, but the last thing she wanted to do was tip them off by following them in a marked car. The first thing she’d do was run their license plate, and see who the owner of the vehicle with the three deliverymen was.
CHAPTER 47
The vehicle was registered to a corporation in Nevada.
“The Doctor” she said under her breath. “I knew he was involved somehow.”
It looked to be the beginning of the same type of corporate shell game that she’d torn through before. The one that led to nothing but more corporations owned by other corporations.
But that made no sense. Why would the doctor be involved in the murder of his own daughter? And these corporations weren’t the same corporations the doctor used, but then again they could be involved in the overall plan to move and launder money.
Donna knew this was the future. What the Panama Papers had shown was that not only had top-level criminals learned how to outmuscle on the streets, but also how to outwit with complex tax codes, differing business law across jurisdictions, and complicit bankers. The criminals had mastered the one-two punch that was hard to beat, brains and brawn.
But first she had to figure out where that money went.
If she went inside and demanded to know, the bank would likely tip off their client. Even though banks were supposed to play by the rules, she didn’t expect them to bite the hand that feeds. Banks from London to Lichtenstein, from Switzerland to Singapore, and New York to New Delhi had profited from bankers ignoring the ‘know your customer’ laws they had sworn to uphold.
The big deposits were a big win to the bank. They didn’t care if it was drug money or rug money, as long as it was green they were happy to show it on their deposit screens.
Donna thought back to her first days working as a detective. Money was tight and she took a roommate. Her roommate was better organized and worked normal hours. It made sense for her to handle the rent and bills and to deposit Donna’s work checks in the process. It was before the days of direct deposit. All she had to do was write ‘For Deposit Only’ and the account number on the back of Donna’s checks. She didn’t even need a signature. On one occasion Donna was in a hurry to get her money so she made the deposit herself. In her rush she had forgotten to sign the check. She noticed the deposit had been applied, even without the signature, ‘for deposit only’ statement, or the account number written on the check. The name on the check matched the name on the account, and the bank was more than happy to accept it.
She told her roommate the story. Her roommate had just laughed telling her the banks were even pretty lax about nicknames. Jen for Jennifer and the like. Her roommate mentioned depositing checks without even an ID on more than one occasion.
She knew what she had to do.
CHAPTER 48
Donna slid on her cheapie gas station sunglasses and made herself comfortable on the park bench facing the bank. She opened the book she brought and turned to page one. Well, let’s see how long this lasts.
After an hour there was only so much wiggling around she could do to keep her butt from becoming sore and her legs from going numb. To make matters worse, the grey wig she wore was starting to itch and the cane kept sliding every time there was a breeze.
The morning went along about as uneventful as she expected. She had only had one glass of water when she woke up to match the single glass she had with dinner the night before. She wasn’t going to miss her chance over a bathroom break.
As the lunch hour hit the traffic to the bank picked up. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. She kept an eye out for customers arriving on foot. There was a solid chance they varied their daily routine, parking at different spots each day and then spreading out from there, only to return and drive off. A new day could require a new spot to keep them being spotted.
But like most criminals they got lazy.
It was only human nature to take the path of least resistance and that’s exactly what they did just as the lunch hour traffic started to thin. The same SUV from the prior day pulled up and parked. It was just a single stall away from the day before. For the second day the guard paid them no mind.
She watched through her sunglasses as the events unfolded just as they had the day before. Not even much difference in time of arrival or time of execution. She pulled out her pen and marked the times on a blank page in her pocket-able notebook. She’d need it for the report.
The most important part about the bench she chose and the cheapie sunglasses was that she could see straight into the bank. She watched as the man was greeted by the teller closest to the door. Less than a minute after his turn, he was handed a receipt and was out the door.
She waited for the SUV to round the corner before she removed her wig, sliding it into the trashcan next to the bin. The cane was already propped against the bin. She stood up, took a breath and marched toward the bank. Underneath the wig and sunglasses, she’d changed her appearance considerably this morning. Still, she couldn’t be totally sure that someone wouldn’t recognize her from the day before.
The line was short. When it was her turn she was greeted by a young man who looked like he might be a college student, working a job to pay tuition.
“Ma'am, I can help you over here.”
She turned to the lady behind her in line. “You can go ahead. I’m still filling out my deposit slip.”
The woman thanked her and took Donna’s turn, while Donna pretended to fumble with her things.
A few seconds later the teller closest to the door signaled that she was available and Donna proceeded to her station.
“Good afternoon,” Donna said.
“Good afternoon. What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry but my colleague was just in and made a deposit. He dropped one of the bills before coming in and just noticed it. He asked me to run it in real quick and add it to the deposit.”
“Okay. Can you please give me your colleague’s name?”
“Junior.”
“His name is Junior? I haven’t seen anyone with that name lately.”
“Well, that’s not his given name, I don’t think. But everybody has been calling him that today.”
“I’m not sure I understand, ma'am.”
“I’m really sorry, but it’s my first day on the job. I don’t want to get in trouble. Junior asked me to deposit this before I come back to the office. I think everyone calls him that because he’s the boss’ son. I don’t want to get off on the wrong foot on my first day. I really need this job.”
The woman just stared at her curiously.
“He’s about five foot ten. Latino. Was wearing all black. He usually leaves his sunglasses on indoors. I was told he’s sensitive to light, and not to ask him about it. He was just in here a couple minutes ago. I just want to deposit it into the same account. He said it would be easy, that he’s a VIP here.”
“One second please.”
The teller walked back to the manager’s station and said something softly. Donna had guessed that the men hadn’t given a cell phone number to the bank. At least not the one they carry. If the teller called to verify, then she was praying no one was standing by the phone when that number rang.
The woman who appeared to be the manager quickly looked up at Donna and made a dismissive motion with her hand, mumbling something.
T
he teller walked back to the desk. “Actually it’s my first day too. I don’t want to get in trouble either.”
Donna didn’t say anything. It’s not that she didn’t want to pull out her badge, it was that she determined the night before she couldn’t. There was no way the bank wouldn’t tip off their client.
“Everything’s okay. I guess as a bank it’s our job to accept deposits, right?” the teller said with an exuberant smile of a nervous new employee who almost made a mistake.
Donna handed the teller a one hundred-dollar bill.
“Oh, so he just dropped this one.”
“Right. On the floorboard.”
“Okay, no problem.”
The teller typed in a few keystrokes and a piece of paper spit out, which she slid across the counter to Donna.
“Anything else for you today?”
“No. Just that. Thanks for your help, and sorry if I caused any trouble.”
“Not at all. Have a nice day.”
“You too.”
Donna exited the bank and made her way back to the station. She took an indirect route just out of extreme caution. She couldn’t wait to see who was behind the account.
CHAPTER 49
“It’s a deposit, just not a checking or savings deposit,” Cain said.
“What is it then?” Donna said.
“It’s genius. That what it is.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ever owned a home?”
“Please.”
“Look at the slip.”
“I did, he’s paying down his home loan. What’s the big deal?”
“What’s the last line?”
“Negative three million four hundred seventy nine thousand dollars.”
“What does that tell you?”
“This is Laguna Beach and people here own really, really nice homes.”
“The first part.”
“I’m not really following you.”
“The balance. It’s negative.”
“So?”
“So he over pays the loan, which creates a credit balance, which effectively means it’s being used like a regular old bank account,” Cain said.
Donna stared at the paper. Cain could see her mind crunching these new numbers.
“And you said you saw three guys in the SUV.”
“Who are almost for sure doing the same thing, just at different banks.”
“And since it’s a home loan, he’s not limited by the amounts.”
“So he’s not worried about amounts of over ten thousand being reported to the FDIC, because he’s not making deposits into a checking or savings account. He’s paying off a home loan.”
“But he’s smart, so he’s being extra careful and keeping the amounts around nine thousand per day per bank. Just in case.”
“But wait. Couldn’t he then use the equity in the home and take out loans against it, which he then runs through the exact same process?”
“Why not? We saw what happened during the property crisis. Multiple home equity lines of credit.”
“And if he’s running all these credit balances, the bank has nothing to worry about. They already have the money he owes, which of course he doesn’t owe, because he not only pays off the loan right away, he overpays.”
“And, he has a choice. He can take out lines of credit against the equity and do whatever he wants with that money. It’s been washed clean. He could funnel it into his legitimate businesses or wire it out to foreign bank accounts.”
“Or even take out the cash and transport it back to Mexico.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me at all.”
“Or use it to buy raw materials, like fabric for instance. Fabric which can then be shipped back to Mexico to be turned into clothing which will turn around and be exported right back to the states.”
“I think El Toro would pay a handsome sum just to hire you as his financial strategist,” Cain said as he shot her a wink.
“He can’t afford me. Plus I only work for the good side.”
“One of the many things that make you irresistible to me,” Cain said.
Donna found it attractive how excited Cain had become as they ran through scenarios together. Her years of detective work told her there were probably a lot more layers of El Toro’s scheme which they’d have to dig through, but Cain’s exuberance reminded her of herself when she first started. You crack one clue and you think you’ve practically solved the case. You’re on top of the world only to quickly discover you’re usually far from the truth, but it didn’t matter. It gave you the exuberance and momentum to dig until you got to the next clue. And breaking down cases into chunks, instead of trying to unravel the whole thing at once, was the best way to get to solve your mystery.
They were working together again. They were a team again. And she carefully considered that she just might, just might, be able to trust him again. His exuberance was contagious. It filled her with exuberance, which made her smile. And her smile made him smile. It was a positive loop between the two of them and she was excited to feel that feeling again.
“You’re cute when you get so excited like that.”
“Only then?” Cain joked.
Donna smiled. “So the next step is to figure out what this company is that owns the house.”
“That’s where I’d start, but …” Cain said. He raised his eyebrows to remind her of the problem of his situation.
“Okay, I get it. You know I hate to do it, but I’m starting to think it’s important to leave you in here a bit longer.”
“And why is that a good idea?”
“I get the feeling that letting you out right now might tip our hand.”
“To who?”
“That’s the million-dollar question, right?”
“You mean the negative three million four hundred seventy nine thousand-dollar question.”
“That’s the one.”
“So what are you going to do now?”
“There’s only one thing to do.”
“Find out who owns that house?”
“I already know who owns that house.”
“You do?”
“I know that I don’t know, and I won’t be able to find out.”
“Come again?”
“I can already tell you it’s going to be a shell company. Sure I’ll go through the motions and run it just in case, but I know what’s going to come back.”
“And then what?”
“I do some good old fashion detective work. I walk right up and knock on the front door.”
CHAPTER 50
The surprise came before she even had a chance to knock on the door. The home was of course registered to a shell company, which was undoubtedly owned by another shell company. Those weren’t surprises at all.
The surprise was the address. It had become all too familiar lately. She’d written it and seen it printed on too many reports, filings, and database searches lately.
It belonged to the doctor, the father of the first girl that had been murdered.
But if the doctor was getting kickbacks through shell companies where was the cash coming from? And were men depositing it into local banks. Wouldn’t that be a huge red flag? Maybe the bank management would be able to keep their mouths shut, but all the day-to-day tellers? Banks in this area hired a lot of college students. Someone living in the dorms eating ramen noodles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner was bound to get interested in such large cash deposits day in and day out. The tellers may not know the men by name, but their activity could make a good story around campus, when parents visited, or after a few beers at the bar. Donna had no idea or thoughts about them personally, it was just human nature and the odds were against the men with the money. Why would they risk it?
Donna wanted to be prepared for anything when she visited the doctor, so she did the one thing she had learned that often provided the biggest bang for the buck when she needed a card to play with the wealthy.
She check
ed his tax returns.
At first glance it looked pretty standard. There were the normal business expenses. Rent, some mileage expenses for house calls, and other things that wouldn’t raise a red flag.
SEAL's Secret: A Navy SEAL Romantic Suspense Novel (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 24) Page 13
