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“I think that’s the general consensus. The guy that was killed at The Shield probably overheard something for sure. The others, I’m not sure, but it would stand to reason. The only other possibility would have been if someone had something that they needed. Property, money, something that would help their cause, and the only way to get it would be to kill them.”
“You know, the really sad part of all of this is that the police are supposed to be the people we run to if we need help. We shouldn’t be afraid of them. I know there are great cops out there and not great ones. But most work hard, risk their lives, and follow the rules.”
“I feel the same way, Ella. It’s not a job I would want. You never know who might be waiting for you in the darkness or who the bad guy could be. You don’t know if the nineteen-year-old kid swinging the knife around is on drugs, crazy, or a lot of both. I’m like you. I don’t think these guys represent the masses.”
Ella looked at him frowning, then looked down at the papers again.
“No. No, I don’t think they represent the masses either,” said Ella. “But the general public would. They’d call for privatization.”
“Yeah, they might. If you remember way back when Frank was in San Diego for that op and accidentally found Lane, something similar was happening. There were riots in San Diego at the time, and they were pushing to privatize the police.”
“I do remember that,” nodded Ella. “Poor Lane was nearly beaten to death and was definitely unrecognizable. It was quite a shock seeing her after that.”
“What if Gates is trying to do the same thing? What if he’s basically getting his retired police force together for privatization?” asked Jean.
“Present company excluded,” she smirked, “I wouldn’t exactly be jumping for joy that my newly privatized police force was all over the age of sixty.”
“That’s true,” frowned Jean. “It’s a good line of thinking, though, Ella. We’ll have to follow up on that and see what the possibilities could be. For now, let’s figure out all this financial bullshit. I feel as if something is hidden here, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
It was hours later before anyone knocked on the door to tell them they should take a break. With Miller back from his visit, they had a great deal to speak about.
The rain was threatening once again, but for the time being, they were enjoying a cool evening. The food was placed outside for everyone to enjoy on their little island.
“You guys are late,” frowned Miller, staring at Ian, Ghost, Gaspar, and Nine.
“Just keeping up to date with what’s happening with VG. Sebastian and the others are headed out to find Emelia.”
“Find her?” frowned Ella.
“We think she’s been kidnapped, but the boys have it taken care of. Chief’s going with them, along with a few others. Whoever has her better pray to their gods tonight.”
“Shit,” muttered Jean. “Well, we didn’t uncover anything we didn’t already know. What about you, Pierre?”
“If I were inclined to leave my wife, which I am not,” he said, kissing her.
“Damn right, you’re not. I’d take you to the cleaners,” she smirked. The tables laughed, shaking their heads.
“Anyway, if I were inclined to leave my wife, I’m betting I’d be remarried at that place by the end of the week. The women are like vultures. They sense new male meat in the room and then descend. It was the scariest shit I’ve ever seen.”
“So, you made friends with our guy Mike?” asked Ian.
“I wouldn’t call us friends, but he said he had a business proposition for me. I told him I was married to Addie, and he seemed cool with the idea that she’s a former cop as well. I’m meeting him and a few other men tomorrow in the city. He found out I was a cop and said he’d be willing to work a deal with me if I were interested.
“Maison Soleil isn’t any different than the other places, I’m sure. The women aren’t afraid to walk around with their diamonds and pearls, wearing their Chanel ballet flats, and carrying their Gucci handbags.”
“I’m impressed that you knew all those brands,” smirked Baptiste.
“Bite me,” growled his older brother. “It’s like a fashion parade and don’t even get me started on the poolside attire. They weren’t all in bikinis, but they might as well have been. These are women who had a lot of disposable income and fixed what was aging. Fast.”
“Any evidence of any wrongdoing?” asked Nine.
“I can’t say wrong, but it ain’t right. Mike took me into this storage room that had dozens of Rolex and Cartier watches, designer luggage, clothing, and shoes. He said the women give them the stuff all the time. When I asked what they did with it all, he said they have a friend that collects it about once a month, and they return it.”
“Most of those places don’t return for cash, only credit,” said Lauren.
“True. But if you flash a badge, apparently that makes the rules change automatically. They’re returning these items for cash. The watches alone would be worth half a million dollars. I asked how much they paid him to work there, and he said he gets the condo, a car, all the perks his body can handle, and about five grand a month in spending money.”
“Did he get to what they’re doing with the women?” asked Gaspar.
