[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
She added, "He kept more than one set of books, which he managed to keep away
from me. The extra set always went home with him. You might try searching his house."
Another gift from this woman. Were the books a red herring? Or a vital clue? He was
reminded of Greek's bearing gifts.
"Thanks, we'll do that."
* * * *
After Dan printed off a list of all Bob John's businesses, both local and non, Ty
rejoined Toby, who had a computer printout of all of Bob John's employees, or at least
the ones that were reflected on his payroll. Who knew how many under-the-table people
Bob John had had working for him?
Both the lists were lengthy.
Over cheeseburgers and fries at a small mom-and-pop diner, Ty gave Toby an
abbreviated version of what Vanessa Hardon and Dan Porter had revealed.
Toby almost choked on his burger when Ty clued him in on Vanessa and Dan's
sexual proclivities. "You mean, she ... uh, she likes to, well ... hurt men?"
Ty would have laughed, but Toby was blushing so hard that he'd burst a vessel if any
more blood shot to his face.
"Yes, so stay away from her. She's way out of your league." Plus, he'd bet before
they were through she'd be wearing prison day-glo orange.
"Holy Moly," breathed Toby. "I know Dan Porter and his wife. They go to my
parent's church." He regarded Ty, confusion in his eyes. "How will I ever be able to look
at the Porter's again and not..."
"You'll handle it." Ty wasn't so sure, but he found that with rookies you had to instill
confidence.
Toby didn't appear convinced, but nodded anyway.
"Okay, here's what we're going to do." Ty took a sip of his cola, then picked up the
list of businesses. "We'll start to visit the local ones. I'll have Margie in Statistics run
profiles on all the employees, see if we can pull up any records that reek of organized
crime. We'll worry about the out-of-town businesses only if we don't pinpoint a trail from
those two avenues of investigation."
"What do you want me to do?" Toby's eyes looked like a puppy dog asking for a
petting.
"You're with me o
n surveillance of the businesses."
"Cool."
* * * *
With his years of law enforcement experience in first Chicago, then Ft. Wayne, Ty
had a fairly good idea of what was going on with Bob John's businesses by late afternoon.
Toby had yet to figure it out.
"How do you know that the dry cleaners are a front to launder money?" Toby's
brows knitted in confusion. "They look like plain old dry cleaners to me. In fact, my mom
uses the one on the north side."
"Yeah, they do clean and launder clothes. But did you notice the customer traffic?"
"Well, there was a lot of it."
"Good. What else?"
Toby scrunched his face in thought. "There seemed to be more dropping off than
picking up?"
Ty nodded and smiled. "Exactly."
"What does that prove?"
"It indicates that a majority of the customers are dropping off dirty money disguised
as bundles of clothing. They'll never pick anything up. Just drop off."
"But some people are taking away clothes! I saw the plastic bags and shirt boxes."
"Those are the real customers, like your mom. The establishments do just enough
regular business to have clothes in the store, but not enough to reconcile the amounts of
money going through the books."
"Shit," breathed Toby. "What about the restaurants?"
"The pizza parlor looked legitimate. But that was just from a cursory glance. We
need to see how much in supplies they order versus the pizzas they actually sell. We need
someone on the inside." Ty paused to negotiate a tricky curve on the way to Haughville
and the rental properties on the list. "I'll do a quick once-over of the Italian restaurant
later when it opens for dinner," Ty said. He'd use it as an excuse to see Brenna in a social
setting before he took her home to finish what he'd started earlier at the pond. "But the
bar and grill we visited ... it's probably a front for prostitution or illegal gaming."
"Okay, what did you see that I missed?" Toby's voice held more than a hint of
exasperation. God, had Ty ever been that young and impatient?
"The building is too big for a bar and grill. It had three full floors and no other
businesses located in the building. Bob John would have gone bankrupt a long time ago
without keeping at least his street-level retail spaces at eighty percent capacity. So..."
"So, he's making more money out of the bar and grill than just serving beer," Toby
concluded.
"Yeah. I bet you'll find the rooms upstairs are in use. We just have to find out for
what."
Ty flipped open his cell and placed a call to the State Police barracks. After
arranging for undercover state troopers to hang around the pizza parlor and the bar and
grill to see if they could get some action, he and Toby began a street-by-street canvassing
of the Haughville rental properties.
After one pass through the rough neighborhood, Ty drove away with one eye on the
rear view mirror.
"Why didn't we stay and knock on some doors?" Toby asked, his forehead scrunched
in puzzlement. "Maybe some of the renters have seen things that are unusual or out of
place."
"I can definitely say that at least one of the renters knows something." Ty's tones
revealed more emotion than he would have liked.
"How in the blazes could you tell that?"
"I recognized someone on that little drive-through ... someone I'd hoped never to see
again outside of federal prison."
"Who?"
"Big Mo'Habab, a drug dealer and all-round crazy from Detroit. Probably the Detroit
connection that Vanessa Hardon mentioned." Ty consciously relaxed the stranglehold he
had on the steering wheel and took two deep breaths to ease the tightness in his chest. He
didn't succeed. The clenching had now moved to his gut. "Where you find Big Mo,
murder and mayhem follow." Ty turned into the Sheriff's Office parking lot. "Big Mo and
his little syndicate of homeboys are to the drug trade in the Midwest what the
Columbians are to Florida and the Gulf Coast. He is bad news ... and he knows me."
Toby's jaw dropped open. "You said something about prison?"
"I put him there," Ty said, his voice harsh with anger, "for life ... no, correct that, for
five lifetimes. I got that piece of fucking shit off the streets for what I thought would be
forever. Now someone's let him loose."
"Do you think it's a coincidence that he's..."
"Here?" Ty glanced at his companion's pale face. "I don't believe in coincidence. He
has to know I'm here. He could have killed Bob John without a single qualm. He'd do it
to foul up my little rural county with his drugs, gangbangers and the violence that follows
them just to show me he can, then..."
"What?" Toby's voice was whisper-soft and filled with horrific awe.
"He'll kill me." Ty turned the motor off and thrust open his door. "He promised that
as they dragged him off to the federal penitentiary. Fuck, I thought that would be the last
I'd see of the son of a bitch."
"What're you going to do?" Toby exited the car and came around to confront him.
"First, I'm going to find out why he's out," Ty said as he stalked to the entrance of the
Sheriff's Department, "and then I'm going to make sure the bastard never has the chance
to contaminate another decent community again."
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]