by Lucy Farago
“Think of the good you’ll be doing,” he said.
Think of the redemption you’ll have, he didn’t say. She could have told him to go fuck himself. She’d considered it. But truthfully, this was redemption. She couldn’t make up for what she’d done; nothing could. She knew, because she’d tried. JJ was dead. If she could help put these people, the Keyeses included, in jail and prevent someone else from losing their life savings, then she had to go along with this crazy plan. She couldn’t know for certain, but she doubted the FBI would really go public with what she’d done as a kid. That, however, didn’t stop her from hating Noah for making her return to a town she’d sworn never to set foot in again and, worse, making her face what she’d done.
“This is bigger than anything you did with JJ,” he reminded her. “These are bad people you’re helping put away.”
She nodded. Hadn’t she been bad people once?
“We have the meeting JJ arranged. You’ll have to tag along for that.”
“Then I can leave? It still sounds too easy.”
“Again, there is nothing easy—or cheap—about this. This has been months in the making. The advantage to you is, after this phase, JJ would no longer be needed. We set it up to take him and the Keyeses out of the picture.”
“You didn’t trust them?” Wise on their part.
“We didn’t want them to fuck it up. This is bigger than any of them know. Better to remove them from the equation. Your father was a peon compared to the guys pulling his strings.”
And yet that peon had managed to ruin countless lives, with her help.
“What else do I need to know?”
“You have everything you need. Remember, you’re only dealing with us.”
There was something he wasn’t telling her. Her ears plugged up then and she had a hard time hearing what he was saying. She’d forgotten to shove gum in her mouth and now a knife was driving its way into her ear canal. Not caring what it looked like, she tried to make herself yawn. It helped, but only a little. She grabbed a tissue from her purse, blocked her nose, and made like a blowfish. She sighed at the relief. Settling back in her seat, she tried to recall where they’d left off. There was nothing like having your head about to explode to make you forget.
By the time she remembered she wanted to ask what information he was keeping from her, seat belts started unclicking and people were standing. The aisles too full to corner him, she shelved her question for later.
Having only carry-on luggage, they made their way to car rental and picked up the keys to her car.
“Are you clear on what to say and do?” he asked.
“Yup.” Hesitant wasn’t the same as afraid. She could handle the dumb and dumber version of Bonnie and Clyde. The only threat those two posed was their discovering where she lived and blackmailing her themselves. They were never violent. And as the two shared one brain, Shannon was fairly certain she could outsmart them.
“All right, then. I’ll see you later tonight.” And with that, he headed off to his own car.
What the hell had she gotten herself in to? No, strike that; what had he gotten her in to? She got into the rental car and let out a long, heavy sigh. She could do this. And if she were lucky, no one in town would recognize her. Maggie’s wedding had made the papers, but the only shots printed were the ones Maggie herself had given them. And while her own name had been included when the serial killer stalking Maggie had taken Shannon hostage, the media hadn’t shown her picture.
She counted herself lucky. Unfortunately, it had come too late. JJ had found her vulnerable, not herself. William Wright, the sociopath who thought nothing of raping, then murdering his victims, had reduced her to the chicken-shit kid she’d once been. Maybe if she’d been honest with Maggie and admitted being tied to a chair and made to wait for your friend to arrive—and die—had been traumatizing, she wouldn’t have let JJ get to her. She’d have told her so-called father she had a file on him and tit was for tat. If he went public with what she’d done, she’d have returned the favor and gone to the police.
She began her drive back to hell. This time JJ wouldn’t be there. But Mrs. Polanski would. Shannon couldn’t face the woman whose life she’d help ruin. She’d been sick to her stomach when JJ had told her he’d returned to Tweedsmuir. The asshole. Knowing the destruction his scam had left behind. The man truly had no morals. Maybe now that he was gone, truly gone, she could try to accept what she’d done.
Who was she kidding? Peace was for those who deserved it. She didn’t.
She spent the rest of the drive going over what Noah wanted her to do. Dotting the Is, crossing the Ts, and focusing on the positives. She and Maggie had forged their friendship in that unforgiving town. And she’d fallen in love with a boy who was too good for her. Shannon flicked on the radio and scanned for a country station. Then she sat back and sang hokey songs, doing her best to forget where she was going … and who was making her go there.
Chapter Four
By the time Noah reached the office he was able to once again rationalize his and the team’s tactics. This rabid dog needed to be put down. This wasn’t only about fraud; this was about stopping the money laundering of drug lords and, if they got lucky, doing some real damage to their operation. It was just seeing Shannon that had made his resolve slip.
She meant nothing to him—not anymore—but seeing her face-to-face, seeing the strong woman he’d always expected her to become, made him wonder about all the what ifs. But she’d left him. So he needed to stop thinking of her as the tenacious, feisty girl he’d given his heart to. She was, had to be, someone they needed to use to achieve their goal. His chief had put him in charge for a reason and he couldn’t fuck this up.
Inside One Center Plaza, he headed to the meeting room and the team from various offices and departments gathered there. “Hello, everyone,” he said, closing the door behind him and taking a seat at the conference table. “What did I miss?”
The lights dimmed and the projector flicked on. All heads swiveled toward the image of a man, mid-fifties, sporting a beard and aviators that did nothing to hide his true identity: Alejandro Casales, head of an international drug-trafficking and money-laundering syndicate in Spain.
“Where was this taken?” Noah asked. The kingpin wasn’t one to pose for pictures.
“Two days ago in Reno,” Damon said. “He flew in for a family wedding.”
He and Damon Fox had graduated college and the academy together, only he’d gone the organized crime route, while Noah did white collar. Now they were on the same task force, together again. “Why are we only hearing about this now?”
“Internal screwups. No one thought to make the connection to our case. The chief isn’t happy. But what’s done is done,” Damon said. “Let’s focus on what we know.”
“Which is?” said a low-sounding, irate voice.
Noah cringed, wondering how much crap they were in if Chief Marsh had decided to join their meeting. Had he found out they’d gotten Shannon to cooperate? He turned to face the man. “Sir.”
“Don’t sir me,” he said with a scowl meant to intimidate.
Raised by a pro football player, it would take more than that to intimidate Noah. Even so, he kept his mouth shut. He’d put in for a promotion and no way was he going to endanger it by saying the wrong thing.
“Any one of you,” the chief said, making sure to point a finger at each of the six assigned to the special task force. “Any of you,” he repeated “think to tell me Lewis was dead? Do you all know the money that has gone into this project? We don’t get opportunities like this in New England. The syndicate tends to keep its activities farther south. We need to shut them down so they’ll think twice about expanding their horizons.”
No one said anything. As team leader, Noah shouldered the responsibility, even though as a team they’d agreed they needed Shannon. He debated how much to tell his chief. While legal, he might not appreciate the way he’d coerced a respected civilian in
to helping. “We’ve handled it, sir. Someone is stepping into Lewis’s spot.”
“Who? The pair who work with him can barely spell their names.”
“No, sir, it isn’t the Keyeses.” He’d either get a pat on the back… or his ass handed to him.
“Then who?”
“His daughter, sir. She’s agreed to help.”
“Explain.” He folded his arms across his barrel chest. “And unless she’s as crooked as the old man or an officer of the law, you’d better have a good reason for dragging a civilian into a potentially dangerous operation … to screw it up.”
“No, sir; I mean yes, sir.” He removed the shank from his brain and figured he’d better speak quickly, before the chief’s face got any redder. “She’s not on the force. She’s a civil attorney in the state of Nevada.”
“Better than nothing, I guess. Go on.”
“The Keyeses know her. They haven’t seen her since she was sixteen, but they’re aware her father had, in the last few months, been in contact with her. We’re using that to our advantage. She’s agreed to convince them she was working with Lewis.”
“And why would an attorney from Nevada agree to that? And, more importantly, why would those morons fall for it?”
Noah cleared his throat. He hadn’t liked revealing what Shannon had done as kid, but when they’d discovered she’d been dropping money in JJ’s account, he’d had no choice. They’d all assumed she was in on the scam, but he couldn’t see her risking a career she’d clearly worked her ass off to get. Not with the money she was making and not with what he’d learned about her. Now he had to tell his chief. “She … when she was a kid, Lewis forced her to assist him in cons. Her mother was incapable of working and he’d threaten to cut them off. It wasn’t until she was older that she understood what it was she and her father were doing.”
“I see. Sounds like you feel the need to be her champion. She was involved in criminal activity as a minor, plain and simple.”
“Yes and no, sir. She broke the law, but she didn’t have much choice.”
“We all have choices, Monroe. Just like I have a choice to put your promotion through or not.”
“Yes, sir.” It was never a good idea to argue with Marsh, especially when the future of your career lay in his hands. “But when you don’t have food on the table and child welfare’s breathing down your neck …” He shrugged. “Lewis used his daughter from the time she could walk.”
Marsh nodded, he himself a survivor of foster care. “I’m not going to argue the morality of what she did. That’s on her. And like you said, she was a minor.”
“Yes, sir. When Lewis was killed the team considered she might have had something to do with it. We think he was blackmailing her, threatening to involve himself in her life again. Her firm is lucrative. She has a reputation to protect. She cut her ties with him thirteen years ago and made sure he couldn’t find her.” She’d made sure no one could find her. “She flew home to see him on the day he was shot.”
“Blackmail as a motive for murder. Makes sense.”
Noah explained the gun found and the outdated prints.
“But that’s not admissible,” Marsh said.
“No, and everyone felt it was enough to clear her. If she shot him, it didn’t make sense that she’d leave the gun behind.”
“Murder doesn’t always make sense, Monroe.”
Damn, he hated when he used his name like that. Like he was incapable of understanding. He had a good rapport with the man, and his respect. It had been Marsh’s idea for Noah to request the promotion, but he swore the man liked to push his buttons just because he could. “Yes, but as soon as time of death was determined, I contacted my buddy at ICU.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Marsh warned.
Monty was the best hacker Noah knew. And while ICU, the private investigation agency he worked for, was on the up and up, not everything they did was clear cut legal, even if government sanctioned. ICU boss Ryan Sheppard and company often worked below the radar and got intel in ways the government couldn’t—not within the law. Christian Beck, Maggie’s new husband, had left the FBI, choosing to take a job offer from Sheppard. It was at Christian’s going away party that Noah met Monty. The world really was a small place.
“Let’s just say we have her at the airport at the time of Lewis’s death.” What had taken Monty an hour to do would have taken days of red tape for the FBI. And Shannon wouldn’t be too happy if she found out he’d known that before he’d slapped the cuffs on her.
“So she didn’t kill her father. Good to know. Keep talking.”
He filled Marsh in on their plan.
“And she’s agreed to all this?”
“She’s not in any danger,” he said, avoiding the question. “We don’t believe the Keyeses would hurt her, plus we’ve got them under surveillance. She’ll make the call. If they suspect anything, they won’t agree to meet with her … or us.”
“And our case is blown.” He seemed to be considering their options, or lack of. “Are you certain we have her full cooperation?”
At least he wasn’t asking how he’d gotten her to cooperate. “Yes, sir.”
“All right, then. By tomorrow we say good-bye to Ms. Lewis, and I mean tomorrow. Good job, Monroe.”
He didn’t bother correcting the chief on her real name as the man turned and left the meeting room.
“Well, that was close. You nearly got your ass handed to you.” Jeff Dickie, the king of understatements, smirked at Noah.
“Me? You think if I go down I’m not taking the DEA with me?” It was an empty threat. This had been a group effort, but as leader he was responsible.
“So you’re not going to take one for the team?”
“I suggested we ask the lady. It was all of you who said to scare her with the bogus arrest.”
Rick Howards leaned back in his chair, wearing a serious expression. “Scare is the wrong word. It was for her own good, so she could see the benefits in helping us.”
“Wow, Howards, you should try politics when you’re done with Homeland Security. That was good bullshit.” Spin it any way they wanted, he’d coerced her into helping them with a not so veiled threat.
“Someone having second thoughts?” Damon asked. He glanced at his watch. “If your plane landed on time, she’s still on the road. Call her back.”
“What the hell.” Howards sat up. “We need that little girl.”
“That little girl,” Damon said “isn’t a pawn for us to use. So if Noah is second-guessing her involvement—”
“No, it’s fine.” It wasn’t fine, but the decision had been made.
He’d been feeling like shit about his part in all this since he’d handed her the keys to her car. So much so, he’d left her standing there, too tied up in knots to watch her drive away, driving toward a life, a town she never wanted to see again. Yeah, sure, she’d destroyed him, but he’d gotten over it. At least he thought he had until he saw her. But what was done was done, and the only reason he was having regrets was because it was Shannon. They’d used willing civilians before, and he’d like to think if she’d strongly objected to helping, he’d have allowed her to return to Vegas.
“Let’s get on with the meeting.” He pointed to the wall that displayed Casales’s picture. “Do we have a man on him?”
“Two, but he’s not making an effort to hide the fact he’s here,” Damon said.
“He’s technically not wanted for anything. Last year’s indictments in California went to the Sinaloa Cartel. His hands weren’t clean, but they weren’t able to prove his involvement in anything.” And Jeff didn’t look happy about it. “One of the biggest takedowns in LA and he walks away.”
Federal, state, and local law enforcement officers had seized close to one hundred million dollars in cash, arresting nine and closing down dozens of businesses in the fashion district that had laundered money for the drug cartels. The three indictments—narcotics trafficking, money launderi
ng, and kidnapping—had been aimed at the Sinaloa Cartel. Try as they might, they couldn’t get anything to stick to Casales or his men, even though everyone was certain he was involved.
“We’ll nail him.” And with Shannon’s help, they were going to do it from the inside.
The companies JJ had set up not only made them appear legit but allowed the cartel to funnel money through their purchases, which they later resold, giving them a genuine bankroll. JJ himself hadn’t been aware of who he was working for until they’d told him. He was small time compared to the cartel, and Noah had to admit he’d enjoyed freaking him out just as much as he’d taken great pleasure in slapping cuffs on the prick. He’d left him to rot in the interrogation room with no break for hours. If not for his team, he’d have made him squirm all night.
But JJ’s ignorance about who his employer was had left them with a dilemma. Did they tell Shannon? The team had debated whether they were risking the operation if they opted for full disclosure, but that wasn’t why Noah had agreed not to tell her. While it made sense that if JJ hadn’t known, Shannon wouldn’t know, Noah just wanted to keep her safe.
“So there’s no direct link to Casales?” Jeff asked.
“They did a good job at layering companies. Not to worry; the IRS is on it. They’ve already dissected two belonging to family members of the cartel operating out of Miami, one directly to Casales himself, a second cousin I believe.” Noah had been pleased to hear that bit of good news.
“So let me see if I got their scheme right.” Lieutenant Peter Murphy, Boston PD, was a new addition to the task force and had only been on board a couple of days. “They set up all these phony companies, then added drug money into the mix. They created bullshit invoices with the occasional legitimate one and paid themselves off. Then on paper—or sometimes in reality—they bought property, boats, and stuff like that and sold for a higher profit. Am I getting this right?”
“You nailed it,” Noah said. “They also give drug money to foreign businesses on their payroll to buy goods, which are then sold in different countries, turning dollars into the foreign currency, avoiding smuggling large sums of cash across the border. That’s where we come in. Step one, we offer our plant in the UK.” The company manufactured computer consoles for cars and had been facing a financial crisis until the US government stepped in and offered assistance in return for a favor. “In the bust in California the Sinaloa Cartel was funneling money to Mexican businesses and turning profits into pesos.”
