Chapter Twenty #9
I nodded. “I told SeRoy that the computer wasn't working because it overheated so he wouldn't bug me about the money. He thought I was laundering it for him and moving it all to an offshore account that couldn't be traced.”
“SeRoy?”
“Alex SeRoy,” I stated. “He was the drug dealer I was dealing with. I've never heard of that Viggo guy.”
“What did you do with the money?” the detective asked. “Were you able to get it rerouted?”
“I did, but…” I glanced at Supervisory Special Agent Dan Crenshaw. “Lyn suggested I put it into a different account to be on the safe side, so I did that.”
The agent's eyebrows lifted. “You didn't send it to the account set up for you?”
“My dealings with the DEA haven't always been that good. Lyn felt that it would be a good idea to hold off transferring the money to the DEA's account until I was no longer undercover. Once I was safe, I'd give you guys the account info.”
I was surprised when the man snickered. “I would have done the same damn thing.”
Good to know.
“Who was the agent in charge?” Agent Crenshaw asked. “Now that you are home safe, I think I need to speak with him.”
“Oh, his name was Agent Decker. Marc Decker.” I got a sick feeling in my gut when Agent Crenshaw paled. “What?” I asked.
“Lany, Agent Marc Decker was murdered in his home three days ago. There were signs that he was tortured for information, and his house was ransacked as if someone was looking for something.”
My eyes rounded as I turned to look at Sal.
What kind of mess had I gotten myself into this time?
Chapter Eight
Salvador
I sighed as I tightened my grip on Lany. I didn't know what type of mess he'd gotten himself into this time, but I knew I'd have gray hairs before it was over. That was assuming we all came out of this unscathed.
“Agent Crenshaw, can you get me everything you have on Marc Decker and the investigation into his death?”
“Because he was a DEA agent, the investigation is being handled by the FBI,” the older man replied. “I'm not sure I can get that information for you.”
“I'll call Lyn,” Clarke said as he grabbed his cell phone and started walking out of the room.
“Lany, pick a wall.”
We always needed a wall when making a storyboard. It was also a great way for Lany to redecorate a room.
Lany huffed even as he slumped against me. “I want the kids to come home, so how do you feel about your office getting redecorated again?”
I wasn't thrilled with it, but I wanted the kids to come home as well.
“Brant, have some men take the pictures off the wall in my office.”
“Shall I get Mr. Lany's kit, sir?” Brant asked.
Lany sat up. “Wait. I have a kit now?”
“We've used this process enough times to know what we need,” I explained. “It's too much of a pain to have to go hunting for everything every time we need it, so I asked Brant to make a kit and keep it fully stocked at all times.”
“Does it include duct tape?”
I snorted out a laugh. “It does. Permanent markers, too.”
“Okay.” Lany went back to leaning against me.
“Jerry—”
“I know, I know.” The man held up his hand. “Get everything I can on how Junior ended up at the East Count Precinct.”
That was a start.
“I also want all the information on this bust. Why SWAT was called in, what evidence they had to get the warrant, all of it.”
“Might take me a little bit, but I'll get it to you.”
“Wait,” Detective Sparks said. “I'm a little confused here. Mr. Delvecchio is still a suspect. You can't turn over everything to him just because his husband says so. That's not how the system works.”
“Detective Sparks, how long have you been a detective?” I asked.
“Seven years.”
“And before that? How long had you been on the police force?”
“I was a police officer for five years before I became a detective.”
“So, roughly twelve years?”
“About that, yeah.” The man's eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“During that time, how many busts did you make? I'm not talking the little shit. How many major busts did you make?”
“A few.”
“In the last thirteen years, Lany has been a major factor in bringing down drug rings, child slavery rings, sex trafficking rings, pretty much all the rings.
He's brought crooked cops to justice, helped save numerous foster children that were being sold and used to make drugs. He even helped the U.S. Marines uncover a plot to kidnap their soldiers and use them in illegal fights. He got a commendation from the President of the United States for that one.”
I smiled as I glanced down at Lany, who had dozed off against my shoulder. “What I am saying here is that Lany has more experience fighting crime than probably every man in this room combined.”
“When we said he routinely consults for the FBI, DEA, and several other law enforcement agencies, we weren't kidding.” Jerry said, “Lany's mind is something none of us can understand. He sees things no one else does, and it usually breaks a case wide open. He's just a little…”
“He's a mess,” I stated affectionately, “but he's my mess.”
“So,” Jerry continued, “if you want help with your case, Lany is your man.”
I almost growled.
“Get your files and bring them here,” I told the detective. “We'll add them to the other stuff Lyn provides for us. Once we get it all on a storyboard, we'll let Lany loose. I bet you anything he'll find something you missed.”
The detective looked skeptical. “A storyboard?”
“As Lany likes to ask, haven't you ever watched a crime drama? The police like to make a wall of suspects and evidence and connect the dots. We do the same thing, but with our own spin on it.”
“And this works?”
Jerry chuckled. “Lany invented this process years ago. Works every damn time.”
The detective's brow flickered. I could understand his confusion. Lany didn't seem like he had two brain cells to rub together, especially if he was trying to walk across the room. But he was the smartest man I knew…just a tad bit clumsy.
“What happens when this doesn't work?” the detective asked. “What do you do then?”
“Call in the cavalry because it usually means Lany has been kidnapped.”
I shuddered just thinking about it.
Sparks' eyebrows lifted. “He's been kidnapped before?”
Jerry snorted. “More than once.”
“The longest we ever lost him was three months,” I explained.
“He was kidnapped by a group calling itself Maleficent.
They were kidnapping kids in foster care and using them to make drugs, although some of the kids were abused in ways you don't want to know. Lany and several of the children were able to escape. Using the knowledge he had, we busted the entire ring of criminals.”
“Including one of my DEA agents who was using his position to assist those involved and abuse those young boys,” Crenshaw added. “Not only did Lany bring his crimes to light, he shot the agent, saving his own life and the lives of several others.”
“I've heard of the case, of course. It was all over the news. I wasn't involved with it, so I don't know all the particulars, but…three months?”
I swallowed tightly as I brushed the hair off Lany's face. “They had moved him to Chicago. They were using him to take care of the kids.” My smiled wobbled a little bit when I glanced up. “We adopted four of them.”
“Did I interrupt something?” someone asked from the entrance to the living room.
“Hey, Skip,” I called out when I glanced in that direction and saw who it was.
David got up to go to his husband, giving him a quick kiss.
Skip's eye twitched when he saw all of us sitting there. “Do I need to call into work?”
“Not yet, but you might warn your boss that you may need a few days off,” I told him. “We're just getting ready to put up a storyboard.”
Skip sighed. “I'll call my boss.”
“Let me know when you want Lany in the infirmary,” I called out. “I want him to sleep as long as possible. He's had a rough few days.”
“Do you still have the portable X-ray machine here?” Skip asked. “I want to take a look at that cheekbone.”
I lifted the edge of Lany's shirt to show him the bruising on his ribcage. “I'm more worried about these.”
Skip walked over and squatted next to the couch before gently reaching out to touch Lany's skin. He moved his fingers around a little, only stopping when Lany whimpered in his sleep. “I don't think anything is broken, Sal, but I'll take a look just in case.”
“The detective is going to need pictures,” I told him. “One of the cops in his precinct did this.”
Skip's eyebrows lifted. “All of it?”
“No, just the ribs. Lany said someone else got his face.” And just as soon as I knew who that someone was, I'd be having a little talk with him.
Skip shook his head as he stood. “My yacht needs a full-time chef anyway.”
Those of us who knew what he was talking about laughed. Detective Sparks and Agent Crenshaw looked confused.
I wasn't going to explain it.
“I'm going to go call my boss and let him know I may need a few days off and then make sure I have everything I need in the infirmary. Give me about ten minutes, and then you can bring Lany in.”
“Thanks, Skip.”
Detective Sparks glanced at me once Skip and David had left the room. “You have an infirmary in your house?”
I wanted to laugh but couldn't. Not when Lany was injured.
“We have a fully stocked infirmary, a couple of panic rooms, panic buttons in every room, and a full-time security staff on duty twenty-four hours a day. Lany also has two personal bodyguards.” I glanced at Marcus, who was leaning up against the wall near the entrance.
Dmitri stood next to him, but his pose was much stiffer.
“They pretty much get hazard pay to deal with Lany.”
“Should I be worried?”
“Yes,” every one of us said at the same time.
Detective Sparks paled.
“Guess I need to order some cupcakes then,” Crenshaw stated.
Detective Sparks turned to stare at him with total confusion. It seemed to be a regular expression for the man. “Cupcakes?”