Chapter 39
By late Friday morning, Jane had already talked to Lisa about information gleaned from the bank records of the Strand family.
Like the previous victims, the Strands had lost millions. Fortunately, Jane’s team had managed to find a hard drive in the bank safe deposit box of Kai Strand, not her husband, that contained information on members of the Collective.
Notes Kai had made about her associates offered insights into the families and why they had formed the Collective in the first place.
Jane sat with SSA Grimshaw in Grimshaw’s office, going over the data. What she’d found fascinated her. “The list comprises ten of the biggest movers and shakers in the Pacific Northwest with regard to technology and wealth. Some of the Collective’s families have connections to the military.”
Grimshaw frowned. “I know. I already brought ASAC Thompson up to speed.” The office’s third ASAC, this one in charge of national security. “He’s tasked one of his teams to lend a hand. I’ve got the details here.” She handed Jane a file. “It’s also in your inbox.”
Jane nodded. “It seems as though the Collective, capital C, was started a few years ago. That’s when the families took interest in Castle Capital, at least. The private equity company that employs Stephen Harte has its hooks into dozens of lobbyists, politicians, and believe it or not, celebrities.
There are a bunch of charities that seem to be benefiting from the Collective as well.
Many to help the economically challenged. ”
She wondered if Belinda’s Scott’s allegedly fraudulent charities were in there.
“Economically challenged? You mean the poor,” Grimshaw said, cutting through the niceties.
“Yeah. That.”
“So why are some on our list being killed?”
“We think a minority of the Collective aren’t in line with what their leader wants. It’s all a powerplay with the mastermind of this organization.”
“And we still think August Kaminski is said mastermind?” Grimshaw leveled Jane with a hard stare. “I have eyes and ears, Cannon.”
Jane didn’t say anything.
Her boss sighed. “I locked myself in the ASAC’s office and refused to leave until he told me what the hell was really going on.”
Jane smiled at that.
Grimshaw smiled as well. “Yeah, he didn’t like it, but he talked. I know how sensitive this is. I also know we have nothing tying Kaminski to the Collective except for a notebook with his name in it. But nothing else proves he did anything to anyone.”
“That’s the problem with him. He’s squeaky clean. But we do have his name written in the victim’s own blood. That’s got to count for something.”
“Yeah, it does. Now you need to find the guy so you can ask him some questions.”
“I know. I’m working on that.” Jane had asked Ray to put out feelers, but with a vague image of Kaminski, who’d never been officially photographed, his old photos in the system during the Harvester case somehow wiped clean, they didn’t have much to go on.
They didn’t even have his DNA on file, despite it having been collected at some time in the past.
“The problem is Kaminski’s reach. We know he’s heavily involved with people of influence. He’s smart.” Too smart for his own good, maybe. Because he and Rook apparently had some beef going on.
“And the Bednareks you mentioned earlier? We do have Victor on file.” Grimshaw pointed her tablet to Jane, who saw the image of Victor that matched what she remembered of him. “Is this the guy you tangled with at the Hartes’?”
“Yep.” Same beady eyes, same height and square jaw. Same small, starred scar at the corner of his mouth. “Where did this come from?”
“An altercation he had a few years ago in Las Vegas at a casino. Charges were eventually dropped, but one of the officers had a bad feeling about him and kept him in a paper file of folks to keep a watch for. Panned out, because their system went haywire not long after Victor Bednarek got arrested.”
“Imagine that.” Nothing fazed Jane anymore. Kaminski and his people had a habit of deleting evidence they didn’t want shared.
“Yep. ASAC Haversham reached out. I tell you, Jane, our boss is like an elephant who never forgets anything. He remembered the officer and the case because it tied in with something he was working on back then. So now we have an official picture of Victor but still nothing on the cousin.”
Jane felt a niggle at the back of her mind as she studied the image, blurred as it was.
Something she should know. “Casimir Bednarek. He’s a few years younger than his cousin.
His birth record states he’s thirty-six, I believe.
Other than that, we have nothing except that he’s from a small town in Poland. We believe he’s the Rook.”
“August Kaminski’s bestie. Or ex-bestie, if you believe they’re squabbling.” Grimshaw studied her. “We believe they’re squabbling?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. You’re going to put all this in a report so I can shoot it to ASAC Haversham, correct?”
“Yes, ma’am. I just need to grab a few more details to make sense of it all.” Casimir. Bednarek. What was she missing? She pulled the image of Victor to her, studying his face, his build. “They’re not Russian but Polish.”
Grimshaw nodded.
“Okay.” Jane’s mind was whirring. She’d noticed something. She just didn’t know what. “I have to get back to work.”
“Go. I’m done with you.” Grimshaw sighed at the stack of files on her desk. “Send Sullivan in, would you?”
Jane nodded as she left and told Jenn to get her butt in the boss’s office.
“Real nice, Cannon. See if I invite you to coffee this weekend.” Jenn stalked to the boss’s office.
Jane gave her scant attention, her mind buzzing.
Nothing connected, so she lost herself in the files she’d been going through, still waiting on IT to figure out why she couldn’t read what TS Cooper had sent her.
When her own tactical specialist called her about a hit on Stephen Harte’s social media, Jane asked, “Do you know what floor TS Cooper is on?”
“Cooper? I don’t know him.”
Jane wondered. “Before we were working together, did you know my name, Teri?”
“Not to burst your bubble, but no. Heck, I don’t know half the people in this building unless they request my assistance or I’m working with them on a case.”
“I figured.”
“Do you want me to find TS Cooper for you?”
“If you wouldn’t mind. I want to talk to him. I’d have called him, but I can’t read his email at all, and I can’t find him in the directory.”
“Well, if he’s new, he might not be in it.”
“I don’t know anything about him.” Other than that he knew my name.
And that bothered her.
“I’ll get you his info.”
“Thanks, Teri.” Jane hung up.
Since the time neared lunch, she finally gave in to the impulse to check on Matthew. Calls to his office went unanswered, so she decided on an in-person visit to said office.
She met with his support staff. The young man let her know the ASAC was taking some personal time.
“When’s the last time you saw him?” she asked.
“Last Friday, I think. I wasn’t in on Monday, though. Nadia told me he called in to let her know he would be out of the office making rounds to the RAs.”
“Right.” But when Jane called Grace, she learned Matthew hadn’t been to Poulsbo. She called a few other RAs. Matthew hadn’t been to any of them.
Was he hiding out for some reason?
If so, he hadn’t told Haversham about it.
Screw it. I’m going. If he didn’t want me checking on him, he should have answered my calls.
The entire drive to his house, Jane kept telling herself she was overreacting. So what if the ASAC had been too busy to respond to her messages? The guy had his own life. They’d gone out twice and kissed a few times, nothing more. On a personal level, he didn’t really owe her anything.
Yet on a professional note, he should have responded to her right away. Especially about this case.
She drove to his house, parked, and studied the home. Nothing looked out of place. She didn’t sense anyone nearby, hiding in the shadows.
But Matthew hadn’t answered her. She texted him again.
Nothing.
Jane didn’t like it.
She exited the car, popped the trunk, and unlocked her service weapon. She tucked it into her waist holster. Not bothering to hide it or the badge clipped to her belt, she walked across the street and up to Matthew’s unlocked gate.
After a pause, she approached the front door, listening for any hint of movement.
A heavy silence descended, as if the world stopped moving.
She tested the front door, uneasy when the doorknob twisted, unlocked.
Jane pulled out her weapon. “Matthew? It’s Jane. FBI on the scene,” she announced, half teasing.
She moved through the main level and outer patio, finding nothing. Then she quickly cleared the attached garage—where she found his car.
She touched the hood. It was cold. The car hadn’t been driven lately.
He had to be home.
Swiftly climbing the stairs, her gun at the ready, she found his bedrooms, study, and bathrooms also empty.
Which just left the upstairs balcony.
“Matthew, I’m coming up. FBI,” she said in a loud voice, praying not to find anything.
Just some flowers, a pair of chairs, a great view overlooking—
A body. Unmoving.
Flat on his back on the ground, lying in a pool of blood.