Chapter 15
“Is our next move finding Razor?”
“Not yet. I have another idea.”
When he didn’t volunteer the information, I asked sarcastically, “Care to enlighten me?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Sorry. I’m used to working alone.”
“Or bossing people around,” I said in a dry tone.
A hint of a grin lifted his lips. “That too.” He slung one hand over a steering wheel as he turned a corner. “I want to drop in on an accountant.”
“An accountant?” I asked in surprise, but it actually made sense. If we were collecting evidence, we could possibly get racketeering or tax evasion charges brought against Knox. “So you are turning this over to your handler.”
He pushed out a heavy breath. “I’m not sure yet.”
“Is this about covering our bases?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d feel more comfortable if you laid all your cards on the table.”
His hand twisted on the steering wheel, indecision on his face, before he said, “I’m working with someone in Homeland Security. That’s all I can tell you right now.”
I took a moment to process that. Homeland Security. Most people associated them with immigration enforcement, but they covered so much more. Like human trafficking. It actually made sense.
“How’d you get hooked up with Homeland Security?”
He grunted. “What part of that’s all I can tell you right now did you not understand?”
I ignored him and asked, “Did you work with them on the Hardshaw takedown?”
He shot me a dark glare.
“I’m gonna take that as a yes,” I said in a smug tone.
His glare turned icy.
I considered everything he’d told me about what he was doing for them. Things weren’t adding up. “I can’t imagine HSI would let you decide whether to eliminate the organization or turn over the evidence to them.”
He was silent for several seconds before he said, “Does it matter what we do with it? All that matters is the end result.”
Funny, half a year ago, I would have completely disagreed with that. Now, I wasn’t so sure. I still didn’t buy his explanation, not totally, but I wasn’t sure how to handle it. I decided to let it go for now.
He drove in silence, his body rigid with tension. About ten minutes later, he pulled into the parking lot next to a brick house that had been converted into an office space. The sign over the entrance read Morrow and Crowe, Public CPA.
I turned to James as he put the car in park. “Who are we meeting?”
“Natalie Crowe. She used to do J.R. Simmons’s books.”
I stared at him in surprise. “And she didn’t get caught up in the mess when he was arrested?”
“She wasn’t his only CPA. She mostly handled his illegal stuff, and Simmons took a lot of secrets to his grave.
Still, the Feds seized most of his bank accounts and his properties, so it makes sense they’d know about Natalie.
She was never arrested, though, so I wonder if she worked out some kind of deal. ”
“Will she recognize you?”
He made a face. “Most likely. We’ve met before.”
“So I should expect some hostility?”
“Animosity is more likely, but I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” He opened the door and got out of the car.
I did the same and then followed him to the entrance.
He walked up to the receptionist’s desk, and a woman who looked to be in her thirties glanced up at him with a bright smile. “Can I help you?”
“I need to speak to Ms. Crowe.”
She frowned and glanced at her computer screen. “I’m sorry. I don’t see that she has any appointments right now.”
“We’re a drop-in,” James said good-naturedly. “I suspect she’ll want to see me.”
The receptionist didn’t look as certain. “And your name is?”
“Jonathan Wiseman.”
She picked up her phone and punched in several numbers. “Natalie, I have a Jonathan Wiseman here to see you.” She was silent for a long moment before she hung up. “She says to go on back. It’s the third door on the right.”
“Thanks,” James said, then glanced back at me before heading down the hall, leaving me to follow.
Where had that name come from? His tenure with Simmons? He must have known it would work.
He stopped outside the room and knocked. To my surprise, he waited for a faint “come in,” before he opened the door.
I followed him into a bright office with multiple plants in front of two windows on the far wall. A woman who looked to be in her late forties sat behind a dark wood desk. A desktop computer was arranged on one side of the L-shaped desk, while a stack of folders waited on the other.
The woman’s gaze narrowed on James as he entered the room and sat in the far guest chair in front of the desk. She stared at him as though he was a specter from her past.
He probably was.
I shut the door behind me and sat in the chair next to him. Her gaze shifted to me with a look of surprise, then back to James.
“Jonathan,” she said in a tone that made it clear she knew it wasn’t his name. “I never expected to see you again.”
He sat back in the chair, resting both his forearms on the chair arms. “I suppose you didn’t.”
“Our mutual friend is long gone. There’s no reason for you to be here.”
“That may be true, but I still have a few questions.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have any answers. I told the FBI everything I knew. If you want answers, get the case file.”
“Not about Simmons.”
She went quiet, her eyes shifting as though she was trying to jump two steps ahead of him. “I left that life behind, and we both know I would have parted ways with him years before he died if he would have let me.”
“I’m not here about Simmons,” James repeated, but to my surprise there was a gentleness in his tone.
“Okay,” she said, sitting back a little, but her body was tighter than a bowstring. “What are you here for?”
“I want to know if you’ve heard of Gerald Knox.”
Her face remained blank, but her breath became a little more erratic.
I wasn’t surprised that James picked up on it too.
He leaned forward slightly. “Natalie, I don’t think you’re mixed up in anything. I know you wanted out when Simmons was using you. But I also know you had contact with other accountants—”
“I don’t know anything, James,” she whisper-hissed. “I purposely stay far away from anyone in that world.”
He nodded slightly and sat back, his face softening. “Has anyone approached you, asking you to do their books?”
She released a harsh laugh. “Like anyone would trust me after the Feds got a search warrant for my computer.”
James cracked a knowing smile. “We both know they didn’t get everything.”
Her gaze dropped to the desk, but she didn’t respond.
“You played it smart, Nat,” he said approvingly.
Her eyes lifted, suddenly filled with fear. “Maybe not smart enough.”
James lifted his hands in surrender. “I’m not here about that. I swear.”
She didn’t look like she believed him.
“I’m looking for Gerald Knox’s accountant.”
She shook her head. “I never did Gerald Knox’s books. I never did his father’s either.”
So, she knew about Knox and his father. If that was a surprise to James, he didn’t let on. “I’m sure you had your hands full with Simmons. But sometimes professionals are connected with one another.” He turned his head slightly as he watched her.
“I haven’t talked to those people in years, James. And when I did talk to them, it was never by choice.”
“I know,” he said softly. “And I wouldn’t ask this of you, but I found out Knox is trafficking girls. Teenagers. And from what I’ve gathered, it’s not a small operation.”
Her eyes widened and turned glassy.
“I’m not asking you to reach out to anyone,” he continued. “But I know you know names. Tell me who reached out to you in the past, and I’ll find out the name of Knox’s accountant myself.”
“Why his accountant?” she asked with a hint of defiance.
“You know why,” he said softly. “Look at what the Feds did to Simmons’s money.”
“Simmons was dead by the time they got to me.”
“It doesn’t matter. I know you wanted out, but Simmons made it impossible. Maybe Knox’s accountant feels the same way. Maybe he or she will be willing to cooperate so they can be free too.”
“You think his accountant will be free?” she asked sarcastically. “The only reason I’m free is because Simmons is dead.”
James sat back in his seat. “What if Knox was dead too?”
She stared at him like he’d announced he was the new pope. “How is that going to happen?”
“You don’t need to worry about that part,” James said. “And this is all hypothetical. I’m just sayin’ … would the accountant be more willing to talk if Knox wasn’t an issue?”
She shook her head in frustration. “I have no idea. I don’t know who they are or if they feel threatened. But I know it was easier for me to cooperate with the FBI knowing the boogeyman wouldn’t be waiting around the corner to get me.”
James gave a slight nod.
“I hear Knox is big,” she said in a near whisper. “Bigger than J.R.”
“I don’t know about that,” James said nonchalantly. “I know he’s up to worse shit, but I don’t know about bigger.”
“Knox is more dangerous.”
James pushed out a sigh. “I don’t know about that either. Simmons committed quite a few crimes he never took credit for. He didn’t approve of his son’s girlfriend, so he hired someone to kill her in a pretty brutal way. He had his daughter’s boyfriend killed too.”
Natalie looked like she was going to be sick.
James sat back in his seat. “So J.R. was dangerous. He just didn’t flaunt it like Knox does.”
“All the more reason for me to keep quiet,” she said. “If I play a part in finding Knox’s accountant, when he finds out, he’ll make an example out of me.”
“If he’s out of the picture, he won’t be able to come after you either.”
“You’re saying you’re going to kill him?” she asked in disbelief.
James held his hands out. “I never said any such thing. But you never know when someone’s going to meet with an accident.”
Natalie rested her face in her hands.
“I know this is scary,” James said gently. “And I really wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t important. And believe me, I know me bein’ here puts you at risk.” He paused. “If you’re really worried, I can have a detail watch over you until this is over.”