Chapter Seventeen #2
Finley picked up the pace and stopped so suddenly in the doorway that Kieran crashed into him.
They both stumbled into the room, drawing the attention of the three men inside, who were drinking coffee and chatting.
Cash’s guests had their backs to the door, but the guy on the right had a bulky physique that triggered warning alarms.
Cash looked up and snorted. “Good of you to make it, gentlemen.”
His guests stood up and turned to face the visitors.
Sure enough, the man on the right was the same big guy who’d been with Ritchie on the night of the stakeout.
Broad shoulders and a military buzz cut weren’t exactly unique, but the square jaw and flat nose definitely set him apart.
In the light of day, Kieran could see his hair wasn’t black as he’d first thought.
Most of the bristles were dark gray with some white and lighter gray peppered throughout.
His shrewd, icy blue eyes stood out in sharp contrast to his tan complexion, and he didn’t look happy to be there.
Finley gestured toward the stranger and said, “What the hell, Cash?”
“Come in and shut the door, please,” Cash said calmly.
Finley crossed his arms over his chest and screwed his features into a mutinous expression. Kieran closed the door and faced the gathering, but neither he nor Finley budged from their spots.
Cash gestured toward a pleasant seating area next to a crackling fire. “Finley, you know me well enough to know I would never hurt you.”
“But have you done anything to hurt Kieran? If so, our history won’t save you.
” Big words, but the determination on his face said he meant it.
Christ, could Kieran fall any harder or faster for him?
The panic he expected to feel didn’t materialize, showing just how far he’d moved away from no attachments and no bonding.
The burly dude held up a hand to take control of the situation, his eyes snapping with irritation.
“Let’s all save our breath and energy.” His abrupt tone matched his no-nonsense demeanor.
The man reached into his jacket and removed a small wallet from an interior pocket.
Flipping it open, he revealed a badge. The agency initials were large enough for Kieran and Finley to read from across the room, but the man took a minute to introduce himself anyway.
“Adam Rowland. I’m a special agent with the FBI.
” He gestured to the other guy, who was shorter and had sandy brown hair and easy-going blue eyes.
“This is Special Agent in Charge, Nicholas Scott.” Agent Scott presented his badge also and nodded a greeting.
Both men wore dark jackets over crisp dress shirts, denim jeans, and boots. Kieran figured they both had service weapons under their jackets, but his distress had turned into curiosity now that he knew they were feds.
“Can we all sit down and have a conversation now, please?” Agent Scott asked. His tone was softer and a bit more polished than his grumpy subordinate.
Finley looked at him, and Kieran nodded.
“Coffee?” Cash asked, gesturing to a carafe and full coffee service on top of the bar.
“No thanks,” Finley said.
Kieran wanted something to do with his hands besides fidget. He didn’t fear the federal agents, but their presence made him uneasy and triggered memories of endless interrogations. Finley joined him at the bar and leaned into him.
“What the hell is going on?” he whispered.
“I think we’re about to find out, but I suspect we witnessed an undercover operation at the warehouse.”
Finley’s eyes grew wide, and he darted a glance toward the group gathered near the fire. “Oh, wow. I bet you’re right.”
Kieran dropped a kiss on his lips. “Let’s find out.”
“First things first,” Cash said, lifting Finley’s duffel bag from behind his desk.
He crossed the room and handed it to Finley.
“Everything is there. The FBI retained the memory card because it contained case-sensitive photos.” Proving their suspicions had been correct.
Finley started to protest, but Cash removed a flash drive from his pocket.
“They transferred all the other photos onto this for you.”
Finley snatched Cash’s peace offering out of his hand and tucked it away. “I’ll reserve expressions of gratitude until we conclude this conversation and I confirm my private photos are all there.”
“Fair enough,” Cash replied and gestured toward the sitting area.
Kieran settled his hand at Finley’s back and leaned into his space. “Just how private are we talking?” Finley snorted and nudged his elbow into Kieran’s side.
They settled on a leather love seat while the other three claimed the matching club chairs. The warmth from the crackling fire and the coffee soothed Kieran’s frazzled nerves, allowing him to look calm and collected when energy coursed through him like a power plant substation.
“Are we in trouble?” Finley asked softly.
“You should be,” Agent Rowland growled, “but your employer is best friends with my boss.” He tipped his head toward Agent Scott as if Kieran and Finley struggled to follow along.
Cash had connections in the FBI? An idea formed, but Kieran was too rattled to put the pieces together yet.
“Do you mind if I take it from here?” Cash asked.
Rowland didn’t look too pleased, but he nodded.
“About three and a half years ago, a lot of luxury cars were stolen in the Colorado Springs and Denver areas. The departments ran tight investigations but ended up reaching out to the FBI when their investigations failed to turn up solid suspects. The thieves were fast, organized, and could make the vehicles disappear without a trace. The popular theory was that a vehicle transportation company was behind moving the vehicles unseen, but they’d need someone to provide connections and tell them where to find the cars.
They started checking out dealerships, auto body shops, and other types of businesses that provided services for luxury and rare cars. ”
The brain fog cleared, allowing Kieran to fit the first puzzle piece into place. “Ritchie and his detailing service.”
“Yes,” Cash replied. “Nick called in a favor and recruited me to go undercover for him as a prospective buyer for rare vehicles. There was a list of suspects for me to reach out to, and Ritchie Alvarez was one of them. I called him a few times and even swung by his shop once, but Ritchie was adamant he couldn’t help me.
He claimed he only serviced the vehicles.
He didn’t get involved in selling them, and he wouldn’t budge on sharing his clients’ information either.
And based on the size of his operation, it wasn’t likely he had the connections to pull off a large-scale theft ring, so we dismissed him. ”
“Mind if I interject something?” Agent Scott asked.
Cash gestured for him to go ahead. “Before the FBI got involved, the Denver and Colorado Springs police even formed a joint task force, but they couldn’t make anything stick.
Every time they thought they had a tangible lead, it turned out to be another dead end.
When millions of dollars in luxury and rare vehicles go missing in six months, it’s going to get the FBIs attention.
I expected the two police departments to get pissed when I showed up and requested their files on the thefts, but I almost heard a collective sigh of relief.
The investigations had consumed too much of their manpower and time, and the chiefs were getting hounded by everyone from reporters to politicians.
I basically started from square one, poring over every document the departments had compiled. ”
“Then a funny thing happened,” Rowland interjected. “The thefts stopped suddenly after six months.”
“My bosses wouldn’t leave me on the case once it went cold, so I set the investigation aside and worked on it in my spare time over the next year,” Scott told them.
“Which meant I glanced at the information once every four or five months. I started with the joint task force files because all that information should’ve been the most recent and contained all the documents in one place.
I just had a nagging suspicion I couldn’t ignore and started combing the files from the separate investigations prior to the task force and comparing it to what I knew.
Everything seemed to line up perfectly except for one suspect. ”
“Ritchie,” Kieran said.
“Yes,” Scott replied. “I noticed a discrepancy between DPD’s and CSPD’s notes on Ritchie Alvarez’s operation.
Denver noted a secondary location for Alvarez, but that detail was missing in CSPD’s files.
There were several other notations in one file, but not the other.
On the surface, they seemed innocuous, but put together, there was a bigger problem. ”
Finley leaned forward, a riveted expression on his face. “Ritchie had someone inside CSPD covering for him. They told him to lie low once the feds swept in.”
“That was my theory, though my boss didn’t like it,” Scott replied.
Cash raised his hand. “That’s where I came in again.”
“Another favor?” Kieran asked.
Cash cast a baleful expression at his friend.
“He said I hadn’t completed the original favor since no arrests had happened.
” Scott chuckled, and Cash rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, I reprised my role of the interested collector. This time, Ritchie seemed eager to assist me. I thought the change of tone was interesting.”
“Dude was bored. Alvarez had gotten a taste of the wild side and had a hard time settling back into his old life. It happens all the time.” Rowland’s tone said he’d seen it all before.
Kieran flinched because he and Ritchie would’ve started dating around the time the thefts stopped. Was that why Ritchie had pursued him so relentlessly? It would’ve explained why he’d run so hot in the beginning and cold toward the end.