Sins That Haunt (16 page)

She got it. If he thought he was being taken for a ride, he'd strike out in a permanent way, not toy with her. “Then why is he looking for me?”

Noah's eyes closed as his expression changed from one of concerned contemplation to something darker, angrier. “Shannon,” he said, with a look that made every warning bell in her head sound off. “Damn.” Then he left the kitchen and headed into the living room, muttering,” Why didn't I see it sooner?”

Noah grabbed a seat at the small desk and booted up the computer. Maggie had synced it to the large flat screen so Christian and his buddies could play video games where she didn't have to listen to grown men acting like children. Noah brought up what looked like a secure FBI site where he typed in what she assumed were his passwords. Then the images were displayed on the television. A picture of Miguel Santos disembarking a very posh yacht, a blonde hanging on his arm, stared back at them. The shot was replaced by a younger Santos leaving a busy club, his arm around a different blonde. Noah's fingers moved quickly over the keys as another and then another picture popped up. In every one he had a beautiful woman attached to him, sometimes the same one, sometimes a different one.

“See a pattern?” Noah asked.

“Sure; he likes blondes glued to his hip.”

“No, take a closer look.” One by one, the faces of each of the women seen with Santos filled the screen, six in total. The last one, where Santos looked the youngest, Noah enlarged. She was similar to the other women and yet stood out. Three more pictures came into view, the woman aging slightly in each one. And in each that quality Shannon couldn't put a finger on grew more and more intense.

“This one is his wife, Elena Santos. I think he has a young son with her, but I'd have to go look at the Madrid file to be sure.”

“Divorced?”

“No.”

“He cheats on her?” What a nice guy. She stared at the woman. It niggled at her brain. What was she seeing? “Can you bring her pictures up all together, like you did with the other ones?”

“Sure.” He hit the keys and there she was. Five photos.

“She knows he cheats,” she said. It was written all over her face. The sadness, the quiet rage. “Wow, a drug dealer and a jerk. Why does she stay with him?”

“Money?” he said, pointing to one of the pictures. “I don't know much about designer clothing, but I'd say she's wearing a fortune in this shot. Even I know a Louis when I see it and I'm guessing the rocks she's wearing are real. If not money, maybe the kid? But now do you get it?” he said, hitting the keys to display all the pictures on the wall. “See past the makeup and hairstyles.”

Shannon stepped closer to the screen, hoping to see what Noah was referring to. All the women had blue eyes with straight and regal noses. They had a penchant for red lipstick, accentuating Betty Boop–like smiles. Then she took a step back, mentally slapping herself in the head for not spotting it sooner. “They could pass for sisters.” She turned around, hesitant to see Noah confirming what she now suspected. “And I bear a slight resemblance to his wife. But come on, not enough for him to be interested in me. That's dumb. I have blond hair and blue eyes, but so do millions of other women.”

“I guess,” he said, shaking his head. “I don't know. You were wearing red lipstick that night. It must have triggered something. Maybe he's got a thing for blondes with red lips.”

“Remind me never to wear red lipstick again.” She might even dye her hair. “Maybe he's forcing his wife to stay?” She wouldn't be the first woman to deal with an abusive husband.

“It's not unheard of for men to cheat and their wives to look the other way.”

“So what do you think? He grows tired of them and moves on to a new woman? You think it's a game?”

“I don't know.”

“I do. He's a douche bag who tells his wife he loves her but believes it's perfectly all right to cheat on her. ‘I love you, baby. The others are just sex.' ”

“He wouldn't be the first.”

“So now you're really going to insist I don't leave this house, aren't you?”

“He'll be gone soon. What's a few days?” Noah asked, his sheepish grin not doing much to improve her mood.

“Spoken like someone who hasn't attracted the attention of a drug lord.” Staying out of sight so Santos couldn't find her was extreme. She hoped. Vegas was a big city, but if that creep had done a number on her office, she'd oblige Noah. She wouldn't do it so much to make him happy as for Maggie. For years Shannon had harped on her friend for putting herself in harm's way. And although exhibiting a touch more control since getting hitched, Maggie's passion and need to help made her forget she was a lioness in a kitten's body. So this week, come hell or high water, Shannon would lead by example.

S
hannon was able to work on the laptop, but none of her cases were that pressing or required immediate attention. But she grew antsy. And an antsy Shannon was a cranky Shannon.

Happily, in the three days they'd been staying in Maggie's pool house, she'd barely seen Noah. He'd been leaving early and returning late. She knew Santos was still in town because Noah had told her. Other than that, she wasn't sure how their investigation was progressing because they didn't talk. And that was fine with her. He wasn't here to entertain her. They had their own lives to live. Two
separate
lives.

She called Lieutenant Cooper for the third time that week and asked if they had any new leads.

“No, nothing. All the prints we recovered checked out,” he said. “It would help if we knew what they were looking for,
if
they were looking for something.”

“Like I said, I wasn't working on anything important.” Only what she'd done for Noah.

She hung up, promising to check her files for the last year. If she'd made someone mad, it would have had to happen recently. You weren't likely to have a fit of rage months after the fact. But honestly, she wouldn't likely forget that kind of animosity. Why did she have the nagging feeling that it was right in front of her face and she wasn't seeing it? Someone
had
shot JJ. Was it a coincidence that her office had been ransacked a short time later? Had someone linked her to her father and this was the payback?

Maybe it was time to have another look at that file she had on JJ. She debated sneaking off, not wanting her friend to talk her out of leaving. But that would be a Maggie move. So when she dropped by to chat, Shannon told the truth. “I'm going back to my place. Please don't argue.”

“No, you're not.” Maggie wore her scariest don't-fuck-with-me stare. It was comical.

“You don't really think that works on me, do you? I taught you that face.” She zipped up her overnight bag and headed into the living room.

“This year has been hell on me. Are you going to drag it out and make us all worry about you?”

The
us
she referred to was Maggie and their two other friends, Alice and Wendy, who'd dropped by last night to drill her about the man she'd so rudely never told them about and who Maggie had graciously filled them in on. What were friends for if not to harass the crap out of you?

“Yes, this was a nasty year,” Shannon agreed. “And a great one. You got the guy,” she pointed out. “Look, I'm going straight to my apartment. I need to get something. I promise, I'll come right back after I have it.”

“Right back?”

“Right back.”

Unhappily, Maggie let her go, with a warning that she was timing her and would call Noah if she didn't return as promised. Damn, how the shoe had made its way to the other foot she didn't know. Normally it was Shannon threatening Maggie to stay out of trouble.

* * *

Earlier in the week Santos had come into the dealership and placed his order for his Gran Turismo convertible. He'd now returned to take possession of the convertible. Noah liked his toys just as much as the next guy, but all this luxury bullshit gave him a headache. But he'd known it wasn't the fancy cars that had really impressed Santos.

He'd taken special interest in the fact that they offered used luxury cars as well. And this was where they'd hoped to really nail him. Prices on those vehicles were easier to inflate and deflate, making them perfect for laundering money.

Away from prying eyes and secluded in one of the back offices, Santos signed the documents, making him the proud owner of a very expensive car.

“I brought my first payment.”

The car cost a hundred and forty thousand and it wasn't uncommon for rich buyers to buy the cars outright. Santos, however, wanted to pay in large monthly installments. He'd already put twenty thousand down.

Lounging in one of the armchairs, he slung an ankle over his knee and motioned for Tomás to put a thin black briefcase on the desk. With a nod from Santos, it was opened. Inside were twelve stacks of twenties. Given the dimensions of the case and the standard two hundred bills per stack, it held forty-eight thousand dollars. This was more than the required fifteen hundred a month payment—much more.

Damon looked down at the case. “Do you mind?” he asked, nodding toward the money.

Santos inclined his head and watched as Damon chose a stack to inspect. “
This
is your first payment?”

“Plus the finder's fee I promised. Just short often thousand.”

They
hadn't
discussed a finder's fee. By law, any cash payments over ten thousand required a Form 8300 to be filed. It was a way to ensure deals such as this didn't happen. Unfortunately, that also required the seller to be honest, and there were those individuals who would consider the risk worth the effort if it paid well.

“I have friends,” Santos went on to say, “many friends who, unlike myself, can't afford to purchase luxury cars. But perhaps older models? Similar payments such as this one can be arranged. And they too have their own demands . . . make, model, and color. You can add a finder's fee to the cost for your trouble, ten, maybe fifteen percent, depending on the car. What do you say, gentlemen? Are you interested? These customers may require much of your attention, but I assure you, everyone will profit.”

With Santos you needed to read between the lines. He wanted to move lots of money in a short amount of time. With what Christian had told him, it would make sense. After the bust in Madrid it was possible he suspected his boss was on to him and Santos had to move fast to build his defenses. Casales wasn't a man to screw over. Either way, this was what they'd been waiting for.

Noah and Damon exchanged pensive looks. This had to be played right. In Santos's mind they were corrupt business owners willing to defraud the IRS to turn a profit.

“Of course the two of you will wish to have some time to discuss my offer. You should know, I also have friends in banking.” He removed a card from inside his jacket and handed it to Damon. “You talked of expanding to San Francisco. This bank manager is a close friend of mine and he happens to be in town. If you have need of credit, he would be willing to talk to you. He can also help you invest that finder's fee.”

“That's very generous of you,” Noah said. It was a good bribe. And how very kind of him to give them yet another name to investigate. No doubt this banker would help them hide the money.

“It's only fair.” He stood. “I require an answer sooner rather than later. My friends were
very
envious of my purchase. You have another dealership in Los Angeles, do you not?”

“Yes,” Damon answered, “one like this and another that handles only used cars.”

“Good. I have friends in LA as well. And give my best to Ms. Lewis. I stopped by her office, but she wasn't there. Shame,” he said, meeting Noah's eyes. “I would have liked to see her again. Gentlemen, I look forward to your call.”

“I'll walk you out,” Damon said and left with the two men, returning a short time later. “What do you think?”

“About his sounding like he wants to move a lot of cash fast? You think he suspects his boss is on to him?”

“If he's smart. Question is,
does
Casales know whose lab it was? Leaks happen and more than one
policía
has been found on Casales's payroll.” Damon grabbed a stack of bills and took the seat Santos had vacated. As before, he thumbed through the bills. “Santos seems to have a thing for Shannon.”

Yes, and that concerned him. “Damon, tell me honestly: You think there's any chance he's responsible for the vandalism in her office?” Could he have been wrong?

“No. From the sound of it, someone was looking for something. Didn't you say she had a file on her father? Maybe Lewis talked to one of his old friends. Maybe that's why he was killed.”

He hadn't thought of that. He'd need to find out exactly what Shannon had filed away. “She's not going to be happy about having to hand that file over. Her point in helping us was to remove herself from his murder, not get further involved.”

“Is what it is. I'm sure Hanover PD will be discreet if we ask them to.”

Noah could only hope.

“Any news on how Casales's last meeting with his minion went?” Damon asked.

“No. All we have is the casino footage at the blackjack table from their first meeting three days ago. Fortunately, the dealer at their table was Hispanic. He remembered Casales hadn't sounded happy. He talked about uninvited guests in his house. And he's promising retribution.”

“He met him in Vegas just to tell him that?”

Damon was right; there had to be more. “He had the wedding in Reno, remember? But I think he suspects Santos. The message is a lot clearer in person.
‘If I find out it's you . . . '
fill in the blanks. Their second meeting was impossible to follow.”

“Yeah.” Damon threw the cash back into the case. “If you don't want to be overheard, take a helicopter ride over the Dam. At least he didn't make him take a nosedive.”

“Doesn't mean he didn't threaten to.”

“I would have paid to see that.” Damon sighed. “None more deserving.”

“Wouldn't you rather slap the cuffs on him?” Depending on how quickly Santos ordered those cars and how much money he wanted them to disperse to different banks, they could have their arrest in a few months if they could get Santos to incriminate himself on tape too. But he'd been smart and hadn't said anything a good lawyer couldn't spin in court.

“I'll leave the cuff slapping to you. Seems to me you enjoy it a whole lot more than me.”

Noah refused to take the bait. Thinking about Shannon was the last thing he wanted to do. If he wasn't ignoring her, trying to forget they were sleeping under the same roof, he was taking cold showers trying to forget they were sleeping under the same roof. He was slowly but surely going insane with all his efforts not to think of her. Now he'd have to return and ask for her file. She was going to hate him.

“How's it going? You know, sleeping in the pool house?”

“Fine. Can we talk about the case?” He gave Damon a pointed glare. He really, really didn't want to talk about his personal life with the entire team eavesdropping. As he was seated behind the desk, he spun the briefcase around to get his first look at the money. “Gentlemen, Santos's incentive is forty-eight thousand,” he said to the team listening in, just in case Damon wasn't acting clueless and had actually forgotten the office was wired.

Damon mouthed
sorry
. “And guys,” Damon looked down at the card Santos had left, “let's check out John Hyatt.”