Chapter 19
“Good morning, Agent Paulson, Howard,” Athena greeted in a measured tone as she glided into the situation room.
She felt like shouting, “Hallelujah!” but it wouldn’t fit the persona she’d spent years cultivating.
She wore a lightweight skirt-suit with a paisley blouse because it had been unseasonably hot when she woke up.
Winter storm, she inwardly grumbled. Snow and ice. She’d seen the radar as the cold front pushed across Arizona and New Mexico, headed southeast behind the fleeing high-pressure system. She resigned herself to the inevitability of what was about to transpire.
“Good morning, boss!” John Paulson smiled up at her from his wheelchair at his station.
CEO Whitmore might be stingy with technology, but the FBI gave Paulson every device and gadget known to man, and he knew how to use them.
“Counterfeiters are now wrapped up with a bow, and the DA says it’s a slam dunk.
Which felons do I need to pursue today?”
Athena laid a folder in front of him. “Deep financial dives into all these players in our current investigation and then head down to the tech department. They have some charred computer fragments and the remains of a book that I’m hoping you can pull data from.
Gulf Allied Chemicals’ CEO, the first name on your list, doesn’t believe in investing money in cloud accounts. ”
“Jeez,” Paulson groaned. “I thought you were investigating eco-terrorist groups.”
“We’re going where the breadcrumbs take us.”
Paulson nodded. “If any part of a drive is recoverable, I’ll get something.”
Athena turned to the room, now populated by her entire team—except Agent Shoops and her joint investigation detective, Elyan Bach. Her jaw clenched.
“Ice, Hernandez, reinterview this list of employees,” she said, crossing the room to hand Agent Ice a page that included purchasing manager Elena Ortega.
“You know the new focus. There had to be an inside man or woman, and somebody was embezzling from the company. Find out who. Howard and Campbell, go check in with the fire marshal’s office and see if you can get back in the building.
Search every inch of every floor, every employee’s locker, every trash can. ” She handed him a warrant.
Athena glanced up and blinked when Bach and Shoops walked in.
Karen was giggling over her coffee-to-go cup.
Ignoring the behavior, Athena directed, “Agent Shoops, get onto reviewing and monitoring Keaton Walsh’s phone.
The warrant has been in force since six o’clock last evening.
I need to know what he and Buchanan have been talking about.
The carrier should have routed the data to the FBI monitoring station. ”
“Yes, ma’am.” She hurried to her desk and booted up her computer.
Athena tilted her head at Bach. “My office. I need whatever HPD has turned up.” With a guilty glance at Karen, he followed her … at a distance.
Everyone spent the morning focused on their tasks.
Shoops reported that Walsh had spoken briefly with Buchanan twice, once last night and again this morning.
Neither said anything incriminating. Walsh sounded scared and upset, while his lawyer aunt assured him everything would be fine.
“Who cares what we talk about at family BBQs?” Buchanan charged.
“You haven’t broken the law, and Amanda had nothing to do with the bombing or fire.
The FBI might breathe down your neck for a day or two, but they’ll move on.
They just want to catch the people responsible for the bomb and the subsequent deaths.
” When Walsh expressed concern about getting fired, Buchanan said, “Don’t worry about it.
That plant will be forced to close within the year, Keaton. We’ll find you a better situation.”
Ice and Hernandez called around lunchtime to check in, and Campbell and Howard returned.
“We dropped off some evidence bags with the lab,” Campbell said. “We found a few wrenches in the janitor’s closet in the basement. They weren’t bloody, but maybe the lab guys will pull some DNA.”
“The fire marshal’s office said they’ve consulted with the city and a structural engineer,” Howard said as he poured a cup of coffee from the station in the corner.
“They’ve determined there’s no further risk of collapse, and the company is cleared to make repairs.
They’ve given them a green light to resume production, but no one is allowed back in the damaged office building until the repairs are complete and an inspector has signed off on it. ”
Athena’s stomach complained. She hadn’t slept well last night; she seldom did when Flash wasn’t beside her. And she’d only had coffee and a bagel this morning—hardly a breakfast of champions. She was about to send Shoops on a lunch run when Paulson spun his chair with a triumphant expression.
“I’ve got something.”
Curiosity and hope spurred Athena on, and she walked over to him while he elaborated.
“CEO Charles Whitmore is in much better financial shape than his company,” he reported.
“He’s got all the offshore bank accounts you’d expect, takes a big cut of Gulf Allied’s profits.
His wealth could be inflated from kickbacks and skimming, but, if so, it isn’t obvious.
He’s paid out hundreds of thousands in fines, which is but a pittance.
Most of his wealth comes from inherited land, gold bars, domestic and foreign properties, and profits from his newer production plants.
Still, if his Houston facility got shut down, it would hurt his reputation as well as his pocketbook. ”
Athena frowned. She was hoping for a smoking gun. “What about recent money transfers? Anything big that might point to hiring an arsonist? His plant is insured for the fire damage.”
“Nothing like that. Sorry. But here’s what I wanted to show you.” He put a bank statement on the big screen. “You’d expect Whitmore to run a shell company, have somewhere to hide money from the IRS, but this.”
She stepped closer, staring at details of an account containing nearly half a million dollars. “What am I looking at?”
“Allied Logistics, LLC,” Paulson said. “It has no physical address and only one person authorized to make deposits or withdrawals.”
That’s when she saw the name. “Justin Booker.” Her lips parted slightly as the implications unfurled.
“I figured he had to be getting funds from somewhere to help carry his plant, since Whitmore wasn’t looking after them.
But that’s a bigger pile of money than I expected to see. What’s he doing with it?”
Paulson flipped screens. “He purchased computers, some new hoses and coils, paid for vehicle maintenance, and handed out $1,000 to each employee on the payroll in December for the past three years.”
“He’s giving them their Christmas bonuses,” Athena mused. “So, Booker is embezzling from Whitmore to cover expenses the CEO should have to begin with. What about his personal finances?”
“They are all aboveboard,” Paulson said. “Doesn’t look like a penny from this shell company has gone to his bank accounts. That doesn’t mean he isn’t saving it for retirement. But that’s not what concerns me. There’s a bigger red flag.”
Athena furrowed her brow as he changed the screen again. “The troubling part is these $50,000 payments going out every six months for the past year and a half. A hundred and fifty grand transferred to Assistant Fire Chief Carmen Velasquez.”
Her jaw dropped, accompanied by a sinking feeling in her gut. “Flash isn’t going to like this,” she murmured.
“What’s that?” Paulson asked, leaning toward her.
Athena shook her head. “He wants to make sure the plant has been passing its fire safety inspections. But why would—”
Paulson lifted a hand. “I looked into it. This money was never deposited into her savings or checking account. However, Assistant Chief Velasquez has been on thin ice for a while. Her firefighter husband died two years ago: mesothelioma, one of the occupational cancers firefighters face, especially those exposed to asbestos years ago. It’s better these days, with SCBA masks and air tanks, but back in the day?
I lost a firefighter friend to it. Lieutenant Cash should be safe.
Anyway, he left her with a mortgage and three children, one with special needs.
She fell behind on the mortgage, maxed out her credit cards, and then, around the time of the first payoff, everything got back on track.
I suspect she’s been using the cash to buy gas and groceries and to pay bills, while the primary expense, her mortgage, continues to be paid from her legitimate bank account.
It’s still taking a bribe, but do you have any idea what health insurance and medical expenses amount to these days?
There’s no way she could have kept her house while paying for her one kid’s medications, not to mention feeding two growing teenagers.
And college? It would have been out of the question. ”
“I can see why she felt she had to take the bribes,” Athena admitted. “I just hate that she felt it was her only option. And Booker? It seems like he was just trying to keep the plant open for his employees to keep their jobs.”
“You still have to wonder,” Bach said, reminding Athena he was still there. “If he really cared about them, wouldn’t he want the workplace to be up-to-code? If nothing else, he’s been enabling Whitmore’s negligence.”
“Unless Whitmore ordered him to do it.” Athena hardened her glare at the bank statements on the screen.
“This will probably end a brave, groundbreaking woman’s career—which I hate—but we haven’t a choice.
Don’t move on Booker yet. I want to talk to Velasquez first and get all the facts.
Maybe if she fully cooperates and helps us catch the arsonist and murderer, she can still keep her pension. ”
“This is terrible.” The pitying voice of Karen Shoops sounded from across the room. “It seems like she’s suffered enough, and after decades spent in public service, saving lives, all to end because of the frickin’ economy.”
“It’s the law, Karen,” Bach said in a tender voice, clearly empathizing with her. “We don’t make it, but it’s our job to uphold it. Do you want me to pick her up?” he asked Athena.
She shook her head. “Nobody’s going to pick her up. I’ll call and ask her to come in to consult with us about some evidence we uncovered regarding the fire. It’s true and saves her pride. Assistant Chief Velasquez isn’t running anywhere.”
“Maybe she can give us something on Whitmore,” Ice offered encouragingly. “Surely, she had nothing to do with Nolan’s murder or the bombing.”
“No,” Athena concurred. “And if that hadn’t happened, none of this would have come to light. So, if she has any ideas, theories, or information, she’ll be eager to share and bring down the criminal who caused her misconduct to be exposed.”
Athena’s heart hurt as she picked up the phone.
Flash looked up to Velasquez and was so inspired by the interest she’d taken in her.
She’ll be crushed, she thought. The whole team had seen the evidence.
There was no putting the transgression back in the bottle.
Paying off a city official and taking the bribe were federal crimes, falling under the purview of the FBI.
Maybe Mr. Smith would be open to the idea of making a deal for her testimony.
Booker would be prosecuted for sure and might go to prison, which didn’t seem at all fair if Charles Whitmore got to run around free, enjoying his villa on the Riviera and his Texas ranch.
She recalled the historic mansion, the miles and miles of pastures filled with beef cattle and functioning oil wells.
The more she did, the angrier she became.
They’d uncovered a hornet’s nest yet were no nearer to identifying Jeff Nolan’s murderer or the bomber whose action killed the three employees.
She still didn’t even know if they were one and the same.
“Sure, Special Agent Bouvier,” Velasquez said in a pleasant tone. “I’d be happy to come by and help out if I can. When do you want me?”
Athena never felt guilty about deceiving suspects. Never. But right now, guilt swirled through her like a hurricane. “Now would be great. I’d like to wrap this up before the ice storm hits tomorrow.”
“I know that’s right,” she answered with a friendly laugh. “Chief Burks agreed to let me off work Wednesday since schools will be closed. Jada gets anxious when her routine changes. I’ll be right over.”
“Thanks.” Athena hung up the phone, feeling like she’d swallowed lead. “I’m going to talk to Mr. Smith. If Velasquez gets here before I’m back, make her comfortable in the lounge. And don’t look at her with pity or like she’s a criminal. I’ll see what options we have.”