Murder in the River City

by Allison Brennan

“You’re doing business with him?”

  “Do you think,” she said without answering his question, “that I care what you think? If I do anything with Jason Butler, it’s my choice. You have no control over my life or my decisions. Jason served his time. He paid restitution, and I’m not going to banish him because my over-protective wannabe brother thinks I’m going to make a big mistake!”

  She turned to leave, but Sam grabbed her by the waist and spun her around, his arm tight around her back. Her lips parted in surprise. She was shaking, her pupils were dilated and her breasts were pressed against his chest.

  He kissed her. Lust and need drove him. He’d never stopped thinking about the brief but passionate kiss two years ago when he wanted so much to take Shauna to bed, but thought it was wrong. There was nothing wrong about this.

  He hadn’t thought of Shauna like a sister in a long, long time. One day she was one of the boys, trailing after him and Mike and Brian, trying to keep up and prove she was worthy. The next day, wham! She was practically a woman with breasts and legs that went to heaven and back. He worked double-time to make sure he didn’t make an inappropriate advance, because he could never stop looking at her then. And now? Now it was worse.

  He hadn’t thought of another woman in two years.

  Shauna was stunned into silence when Sam kissed her, then was hit with all the wild emotions she’d had since she was seventeen and knew she loved him. Every nerve was on fire, and the pitiful fan did nothing to cool her off.

  There was nothing soft about Sam Garcia. He was a rock, inside and out. His lips were so persistent, searching, pushing, wanting her. She yearned to be closer. She wrapped her arms tight around his neck and brought her body closer to his, her breasts painfully, erotically crushed against his chest. She feared her legs would buckle as her desire for Sam melted her from the inside out.

  Their tongues touched and her knees bent as a pulse of heat shot through her. He pulled her up and held her tight against him, his hands splayed across her back. One hand found the back of her neck, wound itself in her hair, bringing her flat against his body. She kicked the door closed with the back of her foot and pushed Sam up against it, grabbing his hand and capturing it against the wall as she nibbled on his lips, his jawline, his throat. He was salty with sweat, and his raw flesh turned her on like nothing else. She moved her free hand down to his waist and up his shirt. She had never felt anything like Sam Garcia. The kiss two years ago was pale in comparison. The kiss two years ago was a mere peck compared to being devoured by Sam’s hot mouth.

  He spun her around so she was against the door and kissed her again, his mouth and tongue making all the moves she wanted his body to make. She arched her back, hungry, on fire. His hips pushed against her, she felt him hard against her stomach, and she reached under his waistband to free him. She wanted him here, now, without excuses.

  He groaned, then grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand out of his pants.

  “I want you,” she said breathing hard, her eyelids heavy.

  Sam stepped away, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He ran a hand through his messed up hair, and it fell back into place. He mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry? Sorry?”

  She blinked and stared at him. He wasn’t looking at her, but at her neck. His skin was flushed and she felt the same heat saturating hers.

  “Sorry for what?” she demanded when he didn’t speak. “You wanted to kiss me. You can’t tell me you think I’m your damn sister!” Her passion turned to anger and she didn’t know why. But she couldn’t stand for him to reject her—again. “You kissed me.”

  “I definitely don’t consider you my sister, so stop saying that.” He stepped as far away from her as he could in the small office. He put his hands on the desk. “I can’t believe I was going to do this. Here. Now.”

  Shauna looked around and blinked. Her heart began to beat closer to normal. “Oh. Okay.” She smiled, regaining her confidence. “Your place or mine?”

  The way he was looking at her she suddenly felt embarrassed. Or something. “What did I do?” she said. “I’ve wanted this since I was seventeen.”

  “I’m not having a one-night stand with you.”

  “What?” She was definitely confused. Sam wanted her as much as she did; it was a mutual attraction. Why was he talking about it? Why did he have to analyze it?

  “Just give me a minute.”

  “No. Either you want to make love to me or you don’t. Why are you complicating things?”

  “Because it is complicated!”

  “What about this is complicated?” She waved her arms in the air. “I’ve thrown myself at you twice and I knew you felt the same way, but you pushed me away. I get it. First, I was seventeen and your best friend’s little sister. Okay, I can forgive that. Then, I pushed when you were in the middle of a divorce. I’m sorry about that.” And she was. In hindsight, she had pushed him too hard, too fast, and he became the mountain. “But now? You’re back. You’re single. I’m single. I still feel exactly the same as I did before. Only—more. So either you do, or you don’t.”

  “Tell me the truth. Are you still involved with that lawyer you dated?”

  “No. Next question?”

  “Will you stay away from Jason Butler?”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I put him in prison for a reason. I don’t want you seeing him.”

  “I’m not involved with Jason, and I don’t plan to be. It’s been over a long time. I want you.”

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  She swallowed. She didn’t want this fight, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself. She had never allowed anyone to order her around, to tell her who her friends were. “You’re telling me who I can and can not see?”

  “No, that’s not it—”

  “But I can’t see Jason.”

  “He’s a known criminal.”

  It took all of Shauna’s strength not to cry. She wanted to say she’d never see Jason again if that’s what Sam wanted, if that’s what it took for Sam to love her, to share her bed, to make love to her every night like she’d been dreaming about for far too long.

  But she couldn’t overlook the fact he was telling her who was an acceptable friend and who wasn’t. She couldn’t believe he’d asked her to stay away from Jason. She wasn’t an idiot. She knew Jason had made some huge mistakes that he’d paid dearly for. Wasn’t his confession and time in prison punishment enough?

  And what came next with Sam? Would he start picking her girlfriends? Deciding what jobs she could take at work? Deciding it was too dangerous to work at the pub at night? He’d always supported her independence, even when her brothers tried to control her choices. Sam had always been in her corner. She thought.

  “I thought you were someone else,” she whispered.

  Then she left.

  Sam watched Shauna walk out. She hadn’t yelled at him. She didn’t slam the door. She closed it quietly. She whispered. There were tears in her eyes.

  He’d thought she’d be angry with his ultimatum, but he expected a fight—looked forward to it. He loved how passionate she got about everything she did, everything she believed.

  But she left as a mouse, not like her at all.

  His chest tightened so painfully he thought he might be having a heart attack. But it was his heart breaking. He’d hurt her. He wished he could take it all back. She was always forceful and direct. He thought it best to put the issue of Jason Butler on the table now, before there was no going back.

  He was wrong.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sam put everything that happened with Shauna on the back burner to meet with Manny that evening. He had some disturbing news about Coresco & Hunt, and Sam immediately tracked down John Black at Dooley’s.

  John was sitting in a booth, files and notes in front of him, a pint of beer half-empty to the side.

  “I see the pub has grown on you,” Sam said as he sat down. />
  “My girlfriend’s out of town. I’d rather sit here and work than at the precinct.”

  “I hear you there.”

  Tessa brought Sam over a pint of Harp and said, “Shauna’s not here.”

  “I know.” He smiled and waited until she slipped away.

  John said, “I thought there was something more going on than you said.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “You could get that tattooed on your forehead.”

  “And now it’s even more complicated.”

  “Manny give you good information?”

  “I don’t know.” Sam took a long drink of beer before explaining his theory to John. “I went to a good friend of mine in the D.A.’s office to look at Jason Butler’s plea agreement.”

  “That’s the con artist you arrested who’d been engaged to Shauna Murphy.”

  “Yeah. And I looked at it because I was pissed off he cut a deal and is now back in Shauna’s life.” Sam rubbed the back of his neck. “But something Manny said made me think there’s more to Butler’s case, and the plea agreement sealed it.”

  “What was in it?”

  “I don’t know. The FBI took over the case and has all documentation. But my buddy said Butler had shared a lot of information about Coresco & Hunt. He thinks the FBI is investigating the firm.”

  “And our suspect, Joey Gleason, worked for them.” John frowned. “I don’t see the importance.”

  “Austin Davis is also one of the Coresco & Hunt attorneys. Shauna dated him for a while.”

  “A while?”

  “Her brother said it wasn’t serious, a couple dates, but I talked to Dooley who said Davis doesn’t take no for an answer.”

  John said, “Do you think Davis has something to do with these two murders? Or the law firm, and not just Gleason?”

  “I don’t know,” Sam admitted, “but we have a connection with the law firm, and we know one of the attorney’s has been hanging around here, including right after the murder. Plus, there’s a connection to a convicted felon, and a possible FBI investigation. Too many coincidences.”

  “I have a friend in the FBI.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “Oh, yes. Very much.” John made a call. Sam only heard his end of the conversation. “Dean? It’s John Black. Do you know anything about an FBI investigation into Coresco & Hunt Law Offices or one of their attorneys, Austin Davis?” There was a long pause, and John said, “I’m at a pub in Old Sac. Dooligan’s. I’ll wait for you.” He hung up. “Dean Hooper is the Assistant Special-Agent-in-Charge. We worked together a few years back. His brother-in-law is Officer Riley Knight.”

  Sam chuckled. “Small world. Did he tell you anything?”

  “Only enough to tell me he’s not only interested in what we have, but he’s willing to share everything he has as well. He lives only fifteen minutes away.” John told Sam that he and Dean Hooper had met when Hooper had been on loan from the national FBI headquarters investigating a money-laundering ring that collided with a murder investigation John was working. In the end, they all got their bad guys, but not without some collateral damage.

  Twenty minutes later, John made introductions between Hooper and Sam.

  “How’ve you been?” Hooper asked.

  “Can’t complain,” John said. “Thanks for coming.”

  “You say Coresco, I jump. I want these guys. What do you know?”

  Sam filled Hooper in on the homicides, and the connection they’d made between a former employee and one of the victims. “Then,” he concluded, “I found out one of Coresco’s lawyers had dated Shauna Murphy, Dooley’s granddaughter, a few times, and may be stalking her—at least to the point where he won’t stop calling.”

  John said, “And he was here the morning after Mack Duncan was killed.”

  Sam said, “Nothing we have is definitive, but when I learned that Jason Butler—a guy I put in prison—has some plea arrangement with the FBI, and Butler has also dated Shauna, I wondered if Austin was using her for some reason. But I can’t figure out what the connection is.”

  “This is where I can help,” Hooper said. “But this information is need-to-know.”

  “Understood,” John said. Sam nodded his agreement.

  “Butler is an informant. My predecessor had been working with him for years. He feared his cover was going to be blown, so he was set up to be arrested.”

  Sam didn’t believe it. “We had him on fraud. We had multiple statements, and caught him red-handed.”

  “I know. This wasn’t my operation. I would have handled it a bit differently, but the result was the same. By going to prison, he protected his cover, and now is in the best position to take down Coresco & Hunt.”

  Sam was skeptical. “Butler is a rich kid—why would he spend any time in prison?”

  “Technically, he only spent six months in state prison. When he was transferred to federal prison, we kept him in the system, but he was really in a safe house. He’s been working with us on financials and other documents.”

  “I think,” John said, “Sam wants to know what’s in it for Butler?”

  “I took over his case when I came on board. He’s no saint—but all his investment schemes were legal. But he came up against some real bad guys—and was offered a part of the pie. He came to the FBI. We turned him into an informant.”

  “I don’t know,” Sam said. “He lost a lot when he went to prison.” Shauna left him. Had she known? She’d visited him in prison—for how long?

  “He knew the risks. He was willing to accept them. He couldn’t tell anyone—one leak and he’d be dead. Coresco & Hunt may be white-collar criminals, but they are not above murder. And Austin Davis is the most dangerous of the bunch.”

  Hooper continued. “We’ve been onto these guys for years, but nothing has stuck. We were so close when Butler’s cover was nearly blown, so we pulled back and let him rebuild his credibility by going to jail. They’re squeaky clean on the surface, but it’s one of those cases where if we can just get one person on their side to turn, we’ll take down a major criminal enterprise. A huge chunk of criminal money in Northern California and Nevada is run through Coresco. The Al Capone case has always fascinated me. The FBI tried to get him on murder and conspiracy and a whole host of violent crimes, but couldn’t. We got him on tax evasion. It’s what I’ve always done. But I think this might be the rare case where we get someone on murder. I might be able to help you solve your case. In exchange, if I’m right, the killer will spill the beans.”

  Sam was still wrapping his head around the fact that he’d been wrong about Jason Butler. It didn’t matter that his crime had been set up and he had willingly gone along with it; he’d been wrong. He’d come between Jason and Shauna because he thought he was protecting Shauna, but it was truly selfish on his part, because he loved her and didn’t want anyone else to have her.

  Hooper continued. “The person who gives us Coresco and his core group gets witness protection. That guy has a long reach, which is why we’ve never been able to get to him.”

  “And because one of their employees may be involved in our homicides, you think he’ll turn on them?”

  “Joey Gleason,” Hooper said. “Not one of the sharpest guys, but his closest friend is Coresco’s son, Peter. I want to flip Peter. If I can’t, Amelia Shepherd.”

  “I suspect,” Sam said, “she’ll do anything to stay out of prison.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  Sam leaned back and stretched his legs into the aisle. The pub had quieted down and they had the entire back wall to themselves.

  Hooper filled them in on some background intelligence. “Three years ago, during the investigation of Xavier Jones, the law firm came up. They don’t do criminal law, and we suspected they were simply the tax attorneys for the lobbying firm involved in the money laundering. We did a cursory examination into their filings and nothing stood out.

  “Then two years ago, their name popped
up in another investigation of a known drug trafficker down in Stockton. Again, on the surface everything looked legit, but what we wanted to know was why this known drug trafficker was giving a donation to a non-profit environmental group. We looked into the group and, again, everything looked legit. They were filing the appropriate papers, the money seemed high, but still within normal contribution ranges for the charity. Yet Coresco & Hunt was the lawyer for the charity. That’s when we pulled Butler into a safe house, to help us go over the records. He’s not only smart about finances, he knows the people involved.

  “We spent over a year just researching Coresco & Hunt,” Hooper continued, “but because they don’t have to reveal their client list, we had to do it the hard way. I had one analyst dedicated to pulling charitable reports, starting with charities based in California and Nevada. Out of thousands that we investigated—passively, because I didn’t want to spook Coresco—seven pay the law firm for services. We then dug around in those charities and many of their largest donors are known criminals. We know they’re laundering money, but we haven’t made the connection as to how these criminals are getting clean money back.”

  “Money goes in and doesn’t come out?” Sam frowned. “It sounds like after two years you have next to nothing.”

  “You’re right, but if homicide is a sprint—if you don’t catch the killer quickly, your chances diminish—white collar crime is a marathon. If you go fast at the beginning, the bad guy wins every time. Why were you at Coresco’s office? What was the connection? Just Gleason?”

  Sam and John gave Hooper the run-down of their investigation. Sam said, “I couldn’t get past Shepherd, and she told me nothing. But she was lying. She’s good.”

  “She is,” Hooper agreed. “And that you got in to talk to her means they’re worried about something—none of us have spoken to her in person, and I’ve tried.”

  “Duncan’s apartment was broken into on Tuesday and his laptop stolen. We dusted the place, no usable prints, but we’re working on some trace evidence,” John said. “Then I found out Duncan’s estranged daughter who he was sending monthly checks to had a visit from someone purporting to be a Sac PD Detective. I talked to her on the phone, and she gave the fake cop the letters that Mack had sent her with the checks. I have no idea what was in those letters.”