Asking for Trouble (21 page)

“Been there,” Gage muttered. “What happened to the agent?”

“He didn't make it. We think he was taken out by the number two guy, Carlito Benetiz.”

Not a glimmer of emotion crossed Kolfax's face, and Gage's loathing of the agent increased.

“The three million in marked bills we supplied for the buy disappeared in the chaos,” Kolfax continued. “The plan had been to buy the drugs then trace the money to its source, take out the entire operation. But with the agent dead, the drugs and cash gone, the case went cold. The remaining cartel members burrowed further underground. Snitches we'd relied on for months disappeared or turned up in the morgue. We thought the case was dead. Most of us moved on, and then six months ago, the money started turning up.” Kolfax looked up at Gage. “In Lantano Valley.”

“You think the BC shifted its operations here?” Evan asked, the disbelief in his voice echoing Gage's. “I might be new to the job, but I think we'd have noticed if a drug cartel moved to town.”

“I didn't say we tracked the cartel here.” Kolfax indicated the folder. “We traced cash deposits to Consolidated Federal branches either in Lantano Valley or Los Angeles. The names on that warrant list all made cash deposits on the same dates our money popped in the system. Someone is laundering money for the cartel.”

“Wouldn't that be kind of stupid?” Gage asked. “Depositing marked money into the banking system?”

“We weren't able to confirm the cartel was aware the buyer was a plant. Could be they assumed the money was clean, or maybe they figured enough time had passed where they could start using it. Small amounts here and there as a test run. That would explain why the full three mil hasn't been accounted for yet. We think whomever is responsible is testing the system, which is why we didn't give the details on our investigation before now.”

“So you don't know much beyond the fact that the money is in circulation,” Evan said.

“It's enough to get me my warrants.” Kolfax stood to address Gage, his expression daring Gage to argue with him. “Your hostility regarding our presence hasn't gone unnoticed, Inspector, which has led some to suggest you might be involved.”

Gage laughed, rubbed his eyes, but when he let his hands drop, he looked Kolfax in the face. “Oh man. I so wish I could say I was surprised you just said that.”

“That's ridiculous,” Evan said.

Kolfax held up his hand to silence the D.A. “Ever work with Agent Sean Salcedo?”

“Salcedo?” Gage frowned, considered. “Yeah. We did our Quantico training together two years ago. Worked a couple of undercovers.”

Kolfax's eyebrow quirked.

“Salcedo was the agent who was killed?” Gage's blood turned frigid, as if he'd body-surfed an iceberg. Oh, shit. “He was just a kid.” His head went light and he bent over, tried to catch his breath. “Man. Oh, man. Salcedo's dead.” The same as Gage might have been save for two centimeters. His shoulder throbbed. The scar on his back burned as if he'd been branded by the past.

“Sit down.” Evan had come around the desk, shoved a chair under him, and pushed him down.

“He was getting married the last time we spoke.” Gage couldn't wrap his brain around it. “Talked about having kids and helping his mom buy a new house. He's really dead?”

“When did you last speak?” Kolfax asked.

“You can't be serious,” Evan said. “You think Gage had something to do—”

“Of course he's serious, Evan. Me and the Feds are like this.” He held his hands a foot apart before burying his face in his palms, tried to focus on the question even as resentment covered him like a suffocating thermal blanket. “It was maybe two years ago? Before either of us went under. We met for a beer to celebrate our grand career achievements.” He couldn't have sounded more bitter if he'd tinged his words with vinegar.

“What did you talk about?” Kolfax asked.

“I told you, family issues. Providing for his mother who'd been ill for some time.” Gage thought of his own mother, how difficult Gage's injuries had been for her, and Salcedo's mother had had to bury him. He couldn't shake the cold.

“Nothing else? No plans to meet later? Nothing off the books?”

“Nothing like that, and fuck you very much for the implication.”

“Your affection for the FBI gives you motive to work against us.”

“My affection for the FBI is reciprocal. And apparently you all think I'm idiotic enough to deposit dirty money into the ATM two blocks from my house.” Gage clenched his fists. “Let's forget your agency nearly got me killed, and this assumption that I'd throw away fifteen years of hard work for cash I don't need. The idea that Salcedo was a wrong cop—”

“I didn't say
I
thought either of you was dirty. I said it was
a
thought. Personally, I've developed another theory.” And didn't he look happy about it. “Jackson Tremayne. He's been known to have, shall we say, less than honorable connections over the years. I don't see it as out of the realm of possibility that he's involved in this money situation somehow. Given his position in the community and what I've witnessed in the last few weeks, the Tremayne Foundation is the perfect front for money laundering. No one would ever suspect them of anything untoward. Although considering your relationship with Morgan Tremayne . . .” Kolfax shrugged as if waiting for Gage to fill in the rest.

“The only reason I went near Morgan was because I saw—” And then the light dawned. “You son of a bitch. You've had this list for weeks. You were just waiting for the right time to use it. Evan was right. You left their name in the open on purpose that day in your office for him to find because we could get close to what you couldn't.” Goddamn it! Heat swept through his body like a sandstorm as his arms quivered. They'd used his personal bias against the FBI against him. Kolfax had played him.

Worse. He'd let them, and thrown Morgan right in his path.

“We knew you'd never look into the Tremaynes for us if we asked, and we wanted someone to keep an eye on her.” Kolfax sounded so proud of himself, Gage wanted to pound him into the floor. “But knowing how you feel about the agency, I figured you'd do just about anything to keep us out of your pittance of a robbery case. Gotta admit, didn't take much of a push.”

“The Tremayne Foundation is not a front for the cartel. They don't launder money.” The thought of what Kolfax was suggesting was so far out of left field it wasn't even in the stadium. “Morgan would never do anything illegal to jeopardize her family's work. And neither would her father.”

“If that's true, then monitoring the foundation's accounts for the next month will bear that out.”

“This isn't some game, Kolfax,” Gage ground out. “This is somebody's life you're playing with. Dozens of lives. The accusation alone could destroy years of work and dedication.”

“In my experience, people like the Tremaynes think they're above the law, which means they're more inclined to participate in questionable activity. You look at the evidence in that file. Morgan Tremayne fits. And thank you, by the way, for keeping tabs on her and her family while I finished gathering the information I needed to get my warrant. Besides,” Kolfax said with a cocky smile that made Gage's fists clench. “It's not like you didn't get something out of this. Looks like she was good for a ride or two.”

Gage vaulted out of his chair only to have Evan block him with a hand on his chest. “Enough.” He shoved Gage back, turned his attention to Kolfax. “Just to play this ridiculous scenario of yours out, what's your plan?”

“I've got teams ready to stake out each bank.” Kolfax straightened his sallow yellow tie. “Any of those thirty-seven people makes a cash deposit, we verify the numbers on the bills right then. If the serial numbers match, I've got my connection and I get the collar.”

“Not to mention your headlines. You're wasting your time. Morgan can't lead you to the cartel money. She doesn't have it.”

“And you would know, being such a good judge of character,” Kolfax said

“Pegged you as an asshole from the start, didn't I?”

“We both did,” Evan added, but he looked over his shoulder at Gage. “You're sure about Morgan? No second thoughts?”

“I know her.”
I love her
. “She wouldn't do this. Not to the foundation. Not to her family.”
Not to me
. She might have trouble asking for help, might be a little too secretive for his taste, but that didn't mean she was a criminal. Did it? “She didn't do this. I'll prove it. You don't need your teams, Kolfax, if it's Morgan and the foundation you're looking at. She has an appointment at the branch on Twenty-second Street at eleven tomorrow morning. I'll meet you there.”

“To observe. Nothing more,” Kolfax said, as if granting Gage a pardon from execution.

“Don't tell me how to do my job, you prick.”

“Your job,” Kolfax sneered. “You're a glorified private investigator, Juliano. You didn't have the stones for the agency. Your own department couldn't find a place to put you, so you ended up here, running down stalled cases that won't get you anywhere but into an early grave. You're dead weight in a dead-end job and you will not interfere with my case.”

“You didn't think him so incompetent he wasn't of use to you,” Evan said.

But Kolfax's tirade triggered a calm Gage had been waiting for years to experience.

The underlying roar that had been his companion for as long as he could remember went silent. The tightness in his chest eased. His brain unlocked, releasing the pent-up hostility and frustration that had been mounting since he'd been shot. “You might be right, Kolfax,” Gage said. “Maybe I'm not cut out for a job that doesn't take a person's character into consideration before decades of their work is put on the line. Or maybe because of agents like you, I've lost faith in what used to be an honorable system. A system I joined to try to make a difference.” Gage scooped up the file Kolfax had brought with him and headed to the door. “You're wrong about Morgan. You'll see that tomorrow morning.”

This time he did slam the door.

And relished the sound of breaking glass.

“Is everything okay?” Morgan peered around the edge of the computer screen.

Normally Kate's smile was as bright and welcoming as a model in a toothpaste commercial, but today the assistant branch manager's hands were trembling, her mouth stretched into a thin line as she kept glancing at the clock.

“Slow morning for the computers,” Kate said with a lack of conviction. “Needs a few extra minutes I guess. Being temperamental.”

Morgan couldn't help but swallow hard as she looked at the last of Nemesis' cash sitting beside the small pile of checks that included the one she'd picked up from Randolph less than thirty minutes before. As terrified as she was to part with the last of the ill-gotten funds—Lord only knew what alarms she might be triggering—her determination to finally set the accounts right overrode her doubts. From here on, everything where the center was concerned was going to be aboveboard, every penny accounted for, every moment notarized. Her life was about to head into fast-forward and she had to do whatever it took to keep things running smoothly. For not being much of a gambler, she was taking the biggest risk of her life, but if it paid off . . .

Temperamental seemed an appropriate description for how Morgan felt today. Aside from a few terse texts from Gage, she hadn't heard from him since their argument yesterday morning.

While the money from selling her grandmother's jewelry had set her free in one way, she had yet to find a way to come clean with Gage without exposing the foundation to a criminal investigation.

She should be on top of the world. Everything she'd worked for was within her grasp, and yet—

No. She'd found a solution to her one problem. She'd figure this one out, too. Of course, first she had to get him to talk to her.

Maybe his lack of communication last night was his passive-aggressive way of showing her she did need him, that she couldn't do everything alone.

She didn't need the extra lesson. In fact, his silence felt like overkill. But she got the message. Loud and clear. “Sorry,” Kate said again, her eyes skittering to the office door on the back wall, and she restacked the cash. “I know you're in a rush.”

“Actually, it's fine. One of my lighter days.” Once she was free and clear of the accounting two-step she'd been dancing the last few months, she was treating herself to a few hours off by picking up Brandon's birthday present before meeting Sheila for lunch—Morgan's idea—at Sheila's favorite café downtown.

Not that she wasn't keeping an attentive ear out for her phone. Lydia hadn't had a good night and had been running a low-grade fever, which was never a good sign, and Kelley had had one of her rare temper tantrums. Chernobyl had nothing on a Kelley Black meltdown. Morgan's usually precious, precocious pixie had been sent to bed without dessert or a story, which incurred a second round of migraine-inducing screams.

At least the entire house now knew not to touch any of Kelley's princess dresses for fear of ripping a hole—however unintentionally—in the hem.

Morgan tapped her phone awake and tried to dispel the disappointment rippling through her belly when she didn't find a new text from Gage.

She'd try again as soon as those missing Nemesis cards became inconsequential. As soon as the last of the money was repaid, which would be any second now.

“Okay, looks like we're good.” Kate's smile wobbled and her gaze skipped over Morgan's as she handed her the deposit receipt.

The second Morgan saw the balance on the account, the stress of the last six months vanished. All the money was accounted for, where it should be. Just in time for the audit.

“Thanks, Kate. Have a great day.” She would have boogied out of the bank if she didn't think it might end up on YouTube. The second the sun hit her face, Morgan lifted her eyes and basked in the feeling of rebirth. Finally.

Everything was going to be okay.

***

From his spot wedged into the corner of the microscopic security center next to the bank manager's office, Gage concentrated on keeping his face blank as Morgan exited the bank.

He'd spent a sleepless night staring alternately between Barney Miller reruns and the text messages from Morgan that slowed to a trickle as the evening wore on.

He'd replied to the first few before having to stop himself. He had to let this play out, had to let her prove herself innocent. He wouldn't put it past Kolfax to continue this witch hunt by claiming Gage had warned her off. Better to keep any communication between them nonexistent, if only for a few hours.

If only it wasn't killing him.

But it would be worth it once Gage threw Kolfax's failure in his face. Maybe throw in his fist for good measure. “What is taking that assistant manager so long?” Kolfax watched Kate saunter toward the office as if her actions weren't dictated by a federal warrant.

As far as Gage could tell, Kolfax didn't make friends anywhere he went it. Agent Marcus, a middle-aged man with a cowlick and ruddy complexion, along with his partner, a young woman around Morgan's age whose name Gage hadn't caught, looked as if they'd rather be hanged from their toes over a fire-ant hill than be stuck on this operation.

The situation wasn't helped when Kolfax had the bank manager open two hours early because Kolfax hadn't done his research and wasn't aware—or more likely didn't believe—that Morgan stuck to her schedule like a fly to flypaper. Gage sauntering in five minutes before Morgan arrived hadn't improved Kolfax's cranky mood.

Did wonders for Gage's though.

When the assistant manager did knock on the door, Kolfax snatched the cash from her with a curse word Gage was sure even Morgan wouldn't have dared utter.

“You're welcome, Agent Asshole.” Kate shot Gage a look as if to ask if he was going to do something to stop this, but he couldn't let himself react.

Instead, Gage nodded his thanks and closed the door behind her. “How long before we—”

“Shut up,” Kolfax snapped.

“We just have to type the serial numbers into the program,” Marcus said, as if Kolfax didn't exist, his fingers flying faster than Gage could ever hope to type. “Shouldn't take more than ten or fifteen—”

Both the agents' computer screens flashed red lines. The female agent snatched her hands from the keyboard as if she'd been burned. “We have a match.”

Gage's body went numb. His head roared as if he'd been dropped into the middle of the ocean. His heart pounded in his ears like a gavel in an empty courtroom. “What? That can't be right. Check it again.”

Gage couldn't have felt more ill if he'd eaten a table full of bad sushi. He moved forward, but Kolfax slapped his hand against his chest, a mingled look of glee and triumph on the agent's face. “No need. I was right. Your girlfriend's in this up to her—”

Gage tuned him out, watching, praying as the agents typed in different serial numbers. Same result.

“I'm sorry, Inspector.” Marcus glanced over his shoulder. “The money is definitely a match to the funds supplied by the FBI.”

Gage couldn't do anything but stare at the screens, at the blinking red lines that screamed of Morgan's deception. Her lies. Her crimes.

“No.” Gage shook his head, unable to dislodge the bass drum pounding in his head. “No, there's got to be some explanation. Her brother died from cancer, for Christ's sake.” He'd held her when she'd cried about the little boy she couldn't help, watched her with Kelley and Lydia and Brandon. This wasn't the Morgan he knew. Morgan wasn't a criminal.

“People like her are the cancer, Juliano. Guess you just had to learn the hard way.” He flipped open his phone. “Yeah, Estelle, Judge Walker owes me a favor. Can you tell him I need a federal arrest warrant for Morgan Tremayne ASAP? Yeah.” Kolfax glanced down at his watch, frowned for a moment, then shrugged. “Which means we should have the warrant by five?” He looked at Gage. “Perfect. Thanks.” He hung up without breaking eye contact. “You say a word to her about this, you warn her or her family in any way, and your career is over. And in case you don't care about that, I'll make sure to bring that frat-boy D.A. of yours down with you.”

The second Kolfax went for the door, Gage considered coldcocking him from behind.

“Don't,” Marcus said under his breath, catching Gage's arm as he closed the door behind Kolfax. “Alice, you want to leave, I won't blame you, but he needs to hear—”

“Oh, please, Marcus, like I don't know what's going on? Kolfax has to close this case,” Alice said without blinking. “He approved the three million for the drug buy. Without authorization. That operation was supposed to be
the
case that made his career. He doesn't track down the missing money, he doesn't make this lead pay off, he's done in the agency for good.”

“Judge Walker's going to issue that warrant,” Marcus confirmed. “But he never comes into the office before four on a Tuesday,” Marcus confirmed. “If you're right, if there's something else to this, anything else, you've got a little over four hours to prove it.”

***

“I don't know what I'm angrier about.” Evan paced the end of the task force's conference room, shirtsleeves rolled up, hair askew. The normally composed D.A. was popping apart like a set of Lego bricks and getting on Gage's last nerve. “That Morgan did it or that Kolfax was right.”

“I'm going with Kolfax,” Bouncer muttered, hobbling around the room as she sorted through the file on the Miami operation. “I haven't met Morgan, but I trust Gage's judgment. He never would have gotten involved with her if he suspected her of something like this.”

“You have heard the expression ‘love is blind,' right?” Rojas's question drew Gage back into the conversation.

“Love is blind, but it's not stupid. Even if she did do something, I know she's not linked to any drug cartel.” Hell, he'd be surprised if she even knew what one was. But there was something.

“Well, we've got”—Evan glanced at the clock—“three hours and forty minutes at most.”

“Any chance we can get some ears in Kolfax's office?” Gage asked him as he came out of his fog. “Someone you've spoken with over there in the last couple of weeks, just so we know what they're doing and when?”

“Yeah, I can do that. Bouncer, where's that file with the FBI numbers Kolfax was so generous with?”

“Here.” How Bouncer located it beneath twenty other files, Gage had no idea.

“Use my office,” Gage said, but Evan was already headed in that direction. “Okay, now that he's out of the way, somebody start throwing out ideas. We know the money Morgan deposited is part of the buy money from the FBI sting in Miami. How did she get it?” He knew he sounded cold, but detached was the only way he was going to get through this. The only way he'd get Morgan through it.

“According to the file, the first batch of cash she deposited was six months ago,” Peyton said. “Let's start a time line. New board?”

Gage flipped the board with the Cunningham burglary details, grabbed a dry erase marker, and drew the line. “Call out the other deposits she made.” He made notations for each one, took a step away so they could all stare at the information. “Anyone see anything?” Gage felt Morgan's future slipping away with each second that ticked by.

“Huh.” Bouncer tilted her head, leaned her butt against the table.

“Huh good or huh bad?” Rojas asked.

“Huh as in—” She grabbed a red marker, circled the first deposit date, then walked over to James Van Keltin's board and circled the date his home had been burgled.

“I don't get it,” Peyton said.

“Not done.” She circled the second date on the time line, then Herman Goodwin's theft. Third, Charles Baker. Fourth, Lance Swendon. Fifth, Cunningham.

“About a week apart between the burglaries and the deposits,” Gage said. “You're thinking Morgan's money came from Nemesis.” He'd rather she'd have been working for the cartel.

“I'm looking at the information we have,” Bouncer said. “But no one in this room believes in coincidences.”

Gage didn't. “There's been something foggy in this case, something I know we should have been seeing from the beginning.” The only time his pulse pounded this way, as if keeping time to a Rose Parade marching band, was when he was onto something. Morgan and Nemesis? All this time she'd known how important this case was to him, what was riding on it.

He needed to focus on what he could see, not what he was afraid to feel.

“Let's go back to the original statements the victims made after the burglaries. The ones they recanted.”

They dived at the files littering the table like Olympians at a swim trial. Once all nine files were in hand, they lined them up in chronological order on the table.

Gage pulled down the photographs of the safes and studies, wherever items had been stolen from, and placed them above each report.

The elevator dinged and Gage frowned at the distraction. “Sorry,” Bouncer said. “I ordered lunch before the shit hit the fan. I'll get it. Hey, Rojas, I'm short on cash,”

“Yeah.” Rojas took out his wallet, tossed her two twenties. Gage shoved them toward her.

“Cash,” he whispered, his gaze flying across each photo as he pointed at Bouncer. “The other day you said something about cash—”

“Yeah. There was a bunch left at the Swarthmore estate,” she said as she hopped out of the room with the money and called, “Nemesis didn't touch it.”

“Nemesis left the cash.” Gage circled around to the other side of the time-line board, snapped the Swarthmore crime photo off, and set it with the others. “Cash left behind. And here. Grant Alvers. That's got to be at least a hundred grand sitting right there. What's it still doing there?”