Deadly Waters (A Sean McGhee Mystery Book 1)

by T. Alan Codder

  Both his officers nodded.

  “Good men. Let’s get this done.”

  With Fish and Chips in their own cruisers, he mentally turned over all the possibilities as they convoyed to the LoCoste Adhesives plant. He was certain he would find something. You can only hide so much. The real question was: would he be able to find anything before he was fired? He had no doubt, after this morning, Rudy and Steve would both be after his head. If they convinced even one more city councilmember he was out of control, or carrying out a targeted campaign against the Locoste family, he’d be out of a job, and worse, Steve Locoste would probably get away with murder.

  The three cruisers pulled into the LoCoste Adhesives plant parking lot, and the officers walked through the door together.

  “May I help you, officers?” A woman asked as she approached from the cubical farm that shared the large open space with the lobby. She was comfortably dressed in a pair of dark slacks with an emerald green blouse, and her smile was welcoming.

  “We’re here to execute a warrant to seize all your accounting computers and files for LoCoste Adhesives and Locoste Trucking.”

  Sean handed her the document. She went slightly pale as her smiled disappeared.

  “Wait here a moment,” she said, her voice quivering. “Let me get Mr. Locoste.”

  “Aren’t you worried they’ll erase everything?” Chips muttered as they waited.

  “It’s not that easy to do,” Sean replied quietly. “There are tools to recover deleted data, and there are always backups. If they even try, it’s another nail in the coffin that they’re trying to hide something. I want to keep this as low-key as possible.”

  “What’s the meaning of this?” Steve snarled as he stomped toward them. “You have no right!”

  “That document gives me the right, Mr. Locoste.”

  “How am I supposed to operate without my computers?” he raged.

  “Not my problem. The question is, are you going to comply with the warrant or are you going to make a scene?”

  “I’ve contacted Spangler. I’m not complying with anything until I hear back from him.”

  “You have ten minutes. After that, you can either comply or you can talk to him about how to get you out of jail.”

  “Mr. Locoste! Rich Spangler is on the line for you!” the woman who greeted them called from one of the cubes, holding the phone’s handset up and waggling it for emphasis.

  “Don’t move,” Steve growled then stepped away to take the call.

  “What happens if his lawyer tells him to not let us take the stuff?” Chips asked as Steve read the warrant into the phone.

  “We take it anyway, and we’ll arrest him if he tries to stop us. It’s a valid warrant.”

  Sean heard the phone slam down before Steve stomped around the corner. “If you so much as touch anything other than the accounting department computers or files, I’ll sue your ass!”

  Sean nodded. “We’ll provide you with a receipt for all the items we take. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No, I’m giving you some good advice. I suggest you take it,” Sean said. “The warrant also gives me the right to pull what data I want off your servers. I can use your computer to do it, I can setup my own computer on your network, or I can simply take the server. Your choice, but I suggest you allow me to use your computer.”

  The muscles in Steve’s jaw worked. “Fine. I don’t know what your problem with me is, chief, but I’ll have your ass for this.”

  “You’re welcome to try. Now, if you’ll show me to your office, hand over the keys to your tank truck, and have someone assist these officers, we’ll get this done with as little disruption as possible.”

  -oOo-

  It took almost four hours before Sean and his officers were done collecting what they’d come for.

  LoCoste Adhesives was running a simple workgroup configuration with an external hard drive setup for group storage. Sean thought about taking the drive, since it was so easy to carry, but decided a copy would do. Steve’s computer couldn’t hold all the data, but the six-terabyte external hard drive he’d brought with him was able to swallow all the data with plenty of room to spare.

  As he watched the progress bar creep across the screen, the heavy-duty wrecker arrived right on schedule to take away Steve’s tank truck. It was going straight to the county forensics lab where the technicians would go over it, looking for evidence.

  Sean’s phone began to ring again and he picked it up off Steve’s desk. It was the mayor, again, and he pushed the button to send the call to voice mail. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was Rudy.

  When the copy finished, Sean unplugged his drive and began to pack up.

  “I’ll need the passwords for the three computers we’re taking.”

  “No. The warrant didn’t say we had to give you our passwords.”

  Sean shrugged. “Your choice. That just means I’ll take the hard drives out of them and access them that way. Doesn’t really matter to me. In case you’ve forgotten from my interview, this is what I do. I’ll get the data I want off them whether you help me or not. I’m just trying to reduce the chance of something going wrong.”

  Sean snapped Locoste’s laptop closed and began unhooking wires.

  “International, all lowercase. I’ll have to get the other two,” Steve rumbled.

  “Thank you. If you’ll just write them down on a piece of paper, that’ll be helpful.”

  Steve left, and by the time Sean had finished packing up Steve’s computer, he was back. He shoved the paper into Sean’s hand.

  “Now get out,” Steve growled, glaring at Sean, his eyes narrowed and hard.

  Sean gave him a nod and gathered the last of the items then joined his officers waiting in the lobby.

  “That was tense,” Fish said with a grin, taking Steve’s computer from Sean. “Did you do this a lot in Boston?”

  Sean nodded in silent thanks as Chips held the door open for them. “No. This was my first time. In Boston I got the stuff after someone else seized it.”

  “This sucks,” Chips said as they walked toward their cars. “I’m friends with a couple of people who work here.”

  “It’s nothing personal,” Sean said. “You’re just doing your job.”

  “Yeah, I know, but it still sucks.”

  You should try being in my shoes, Sean thought, but said nothing.

  -oOo-

  After Fish and Chips returned to their regular patrol duties, Sean sat in his office, digging through the mountain of data he’d collected. He started with the network files, deleting the music, CAD drawings, and other files that weren’t likely to be of use to him. He then quickly browsed what videos and pictures he could find, but finding nothing of interest there, he deleted those as well.

  He thought it unlikely Steve was stupid enough to write down something incriminating, but he started browsing through all his Word documents anyway. There were thousands of them, and he would have to look at each one to determine if it was relevant to the case.

  His phone rang, and he knew who was calling without picking up the phone.

  “Sean,” he said, bringing the handset to his ear.

  “How could you?” Rudy demanded.

  “How could I what, mayor? Obtain a warrant or execute the warrant?”

  “Steve is demanding a special session of the city council to vote on having you removed. He’s tired of you harassing him and his family, and I don’t blame him.”

  “Funny, isn’t it, that he feels harassed even though I had enough evidence to obtain a search warrant? You don’t think that has anything to do with it?”

  “I have a hard time believing Steve could have anything to do with illegal dumping. Don’t you have enough to worry about with this Thacker case?”

  “It’s all related, mayor. From the beginning, it’s been clear Steve had the opportunity to dispose of Thacker’s body in t
he ditch. If Thacker caught him dumping illegally, that’ll establish motive. I’m sorry, mayor, but he’s dirty, and I’m going to prove it.”

  Rudy was quiet for a long time. “You’d better be right on this.”

  “This is the only solid lead I’ve gotten on this case. If Steve turns out to be clean, I think the murder of Boyd Thacker will probably remain unsolved.”

  “You really think Steve killed Thacker?”

  “It’s where the evidence is pointing.”

  “What evidence? It sounds to me like you’re on a fishing expedition.”

  “I haven’t told you everything we have.”

  “What else is there?”

  “I’m not going to disclose that, not even to you, mayor. Sorry.”

  There is another long pause. “You’d just better be right.”

  -oOo-

  “Hey, chief, any luck?” Fish asked as he stuck his head into Sean’s office. Chips was standing slightly behind him, listening in.

  “Nothing yet. It’ll probably take a couple of days of digging to turn up anything, if there is anything to turn up. Steve isn’t stupid. He’s probably not going to write down anywhere what he’s doing, but I’m not going to shortcut this.”

  “Need some help? Chips and I,” Fish paused as he shrugged and glanced at his fellow officer, “we can dig through stuff as easily as you can.”

  Sean grinned. He really did have a good crew. “Thanks, guys. No. Go home and spend time with your families.”

  “Word has gotten around we raided LoCoste Adhesives,” Chips said.

  “Not surprising. What’s the word on the street? Come on, you can tell me,” he prompted when the officers hesitated.

  “Most people think you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Fish replied.

  “What about you, Chips?”

  Chips shrugged and stepped farther into the office. “About the same. I had a couple of people stop me at lunch and ask if it was true that we’d arrested Steve Locoste. I told them it wasn’t true and left it at that, but you could tell from their body language they weren’t happy.”

  Sean’s smile was grim. “Do you think I made a mistake?”

  “Hell no!” Fish said, his voice hard. “If the evidence points to Locoste, then I’ll be happy to slap the cuffs on him myself. Once it all comes out, people will see you were right all along.”

  “You think I’m right?” he asked, looking at Chips.

  “From what I’ve seen, he’s our best bet. Finding the weights on the truck, that’s enough to convince me,” Chips said.

  “Remember, this is an ongoing investigation, so keep that to yourself.”

  Chips grinned. “Don’t worry about that. This is the most excitement the department’s had since I’ve been on the force. God help me for saying this, but it’s a nice change of pace from the drunks, drug dealing, vandalism, and robberies we normally have to deal with.”

  Sean snickered as he slowly shook his head in mock disbelief. “Don’t let the public hear you say that.”

  “No, sir. But if we have another murder, I want a crack at it!”

  Sean’s lips thinned. “Trust me, you don’t.”

  “The mayor still giving you trouble?” Fish asked.

  “You have no idea.”

  Fish shook his head in apparent disgust. “I haven’t heard if anyone is running against him this year, but if someone does, I’m not voting for that slimly bastard. Having him messing with this investigation has left a bad taste in my mouth.”

  “Mine too, and it wasn’t even my case,” Chips agreed.

  Sean smiled again. “Thanks for the support, guys. It’s nice to know someone’s on my side.”

  Fish’s lips quirked into a crooked smile. “You nail Locoste’s hide to the wall and people will come around.”

  “I’ll think I’ll settle for a conviction.”

  Fish gave him a curt nod. “That works for me. Goodnight, chief,” he said, and then stepped out of the office.

  “You need something, Chips?” Sean asked when Chips didn’t follow.

  The officer dug a finger in his ear a moment. “No, sir. I don’t want you to think I’m sucking up or anything, but I just wanted to say that, well, I think you’re doing the right thing, and I admire you for standing up to the mayor. I didn’t always like how Chief Horton did some things. I never said anything, but sometimes it rubbed me the wrong way.”

  “Thank you, Officer Langley. As I said my first day, I have an open-door policy, and I meant it. It’s a standing order around here if you think I’m full of shit, you talk to me about it, okay?”

  Chips gave him a sideways grin. “I remember, but be careful what you ask for.”

  Sean grinned. “So long as you understand that, in the end, what I say goes, I always want to hear what you think. That goes for all my officers and dispatchers.”

  “Thank you, sir. Have a good evening.”

  “You too, Chips.”

  Sean leaned back in his chair and smiled. It meant a lot to him that Fish and Chips stopped in and voiced their support. He was going to be sorry to see them go.

  With a sigh, he returned to examining the documents he’d copied to his hard drive.

  After several fruitless hours, he finally had enough for the day. This was going to be a hard slog, but he was sure the data was in there, somewhere. He just had to find it.

  Twenty-Eight

  The next day, Sean was sitting in his office entering production numbers into an Excel spreadsheet. He’d given up for the moment on the Word documents.

  It was slow going, and he didn’t even know if what he was doing would work, but he’d looked at Word documents until his eyes were about to cross. What he’d discovered already, however, was Locoste Trucking was billing LoCoste Adhesives at a rate that matched the six to eight week interval that agreed with the wastewater plant records. Whatever was happening was happening completely off the books on both companies. Not surprising, actually. Steve was anything but stupid.

  Because he couldn’t find evidence that contradicted the wastewater plant records for the disposal of waste, he was now trying to work out an estimate of how much waste was being produced. If the amount being produced didn’t match what was being disposed of, that would be much stronger evidence that something was amiss than having to rely on Frank’s testimony that LoCoste Adhesives was hauling out waste every two or three weeks. He’d found Excel spreadsheets with all the formulas and expected losses, and now he was applying that to the production runs.

  He couldn’t be sure until he finished entering the data, but it wasn’t looking good for Steve. The amount of waste dumped at the wastewater plant was about one-third the amount being generated, which matched what Frank said. It wasn’t a smoking gun, because it was just estimates and didn’t account for any waste recovery that may have happened, but it was another piece of the puzzle.

  His phone rang and he glanced at the display before lifting the handset.

  “Sean McGhee.”

  “Chief McGhee, this is Officer Charlie Buessy, Siouan County Sheriff’s Crime Lab. How are you this afternoon?”

  “Fine, Officer Buessy. What can I help you with?”

  “We’ve finished the inspection of the tank truck you wanted us to examine.”

  “Tell me you have some good news.”

  I’m sorry, chief. I wish I had some better news for you. We found only one set of prints on the inside of the truck. We ran them through IAFIS,”—he pronounced it Aye-fiss—“the Integrated Automated Fingerprint Information System—”

  “I’m familiar with it,” Sean interrupted.

  “Okay, good. We didn’t get a hit.”

  “Not surprising. The prints probably belong to the owner of the truck, and I’m not surprised his prints aren’t on file.”

  “That’s our guess, that they belonged to the owner. There were no significant deposits of anything on the inside of the truck. In fact, I would say it was too clean. It was as if someone spen
t a lot of time and effort removing every bit of dirt they could find. The driver’s side was unusually clean, but did have some of the dirt and debris you’d expect to find, but the passenger side? That was spotless. We couldn’t find so much as a hair or a fingerprint.”

  “What about the weights? Did they match those used to weight Thacker down?”

  “A perfect match. We found three on the truck. Several different sets of prints on those, but none were Thacker’s. The zip ties also matched those found on the deceased, though they are commonly available. I don’t know if you can read too much into those, but the weights? You have a solid hit on those, and they’re not something you just find lying around.”

  “You can get them at Wal-Mart. One of the three is probably the one I bought as an excuse to collect some information.”

  “No kidding? I’ll be sure to log that into the system for the next time.”

  “So, nothing to tie Thacker to the truck?”

  “Nothing conclusive, no.”

  “The handle used to open and close the valve on the truck? Nothing there?”

  “Possible match to the damage to the skull, but impossible to tell for sure. I wouldn’t hang my entire case on it, that’s for sure. The weights, those are your best bet.”

  “Shit,” Sean muttered under his breath. “Okay. Thank you, Officer Buessy. Can you hold the truck in impound for a couple of days until someone comes to get it?”

  “Sure. Sorry we couldn’t be more help, chief.”

  “No problem. The courts kind of frown on you making up evidence.”

  Buessy laughed. “Ain’t that the truth.”

  Sean chuckled. “Thanks, again,” he said before returning the handset to the base.

  He found where he’d stopped, and had just started entering data, when his phone rang again. He frowned as he picked it up.

  “Sean.”

  “Chief, the city council is here to see you.”

  He slumped. “Send them back.”

  A moment later, Evie, Josh and another member of the city council stepped into his office.