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Chapter Four
Reid
“Ican’t say that wasn’t enjoyable for me.” Alex answered the phone immediately when I dialed his number from my cell phone, as I continued to gaze out over the city.
“You’ve already been here, haven’t you?” I grabbed my black-rimmed glasses from the desk, having to get used to wearing them again, and slid them on. As an agent, I’m usually required to wear my contacts, but for this particular assignment, I am wearing my glasses. I guess that’s what happens when you go from blending in with hardened criminals to a damn insurance adjuster.
“Wired your office up last night, I was in and out. Kind of like you about five minutes ago. Really, Chapman? Your secretary, a little cliché don’t you think?” I could hear him chuckling as I groaned through the line having not considered Alex beat me here and installed cameras. They’re for my safety, and a requirement of the Bureau, but a heads up would have been nice.
“You are sick in the head man; I don’t know what they did to you in prison. Wipe that footage, you know the drill.” I clicked the computer to life on my desk and logged into my email, still not used to seeing my name associated with the Chapman Group logo.
“I got you, I will add it to my personal stash. Stay away from the secretary though, I ran a background on her, and she has a clientele list a mile long when she’s not working for Chapman, if you get my drift.”
“If it feels like a professional blowjob…”
“It’s probably a professional blowjob.” I grinned as he finished my sentence for me.
“What do you have in terms of connections between my father and Wilks?” I asked, knowing that Alex thoroughly scanned this office for potential bugs when he wired it up. There is no chance anyone is hearing this conversation, other that the higher-ups at the Bureau. Even then, they hear only what we want them to hear. Alex may take his pay from the federal government now, but he will always be one step ahead of them. It’s just the way it is, and personally, I’m happy he’s on my team.
“I found some easy stuff right away, mostly public records and filings. It all looks legal on the front-end. Wilks purchased some old ass haunted house, Anderson something-or-another a few months ago. Your father insured it for a hella lot of money for him. A fire was reported on the property within a week of all of the doc’s being finalized. The money is moving.”
“So, we see the money. Any news on the trafficking investigations? Where is he hiding them?” I asked as I rubbed my jaw and considered my reality. My father is probably going to prison, and I’m going to be the one that put him there. Dammit.
“Tunnels. There are tunnels under the Anderson property. They lead to railroad tracks that lead directly to the harbor. We don’t have a solid location on any current transports, but it’s a perfect storm.” I could hear Alex clicking away on a keyboard in the background as he answered me.
“What about Adkins, got anything on him?”
“Not yet, but I think it’s possible his daughter may be involved.” Interesting. In our world, it’s the men that take over the family business throughout the generations, taking over the dirty work. It’s rare we see a woman step up.
“Really? A daughter?”
“Yeah, he has three. The oldest, she’s a country club socialite, lives well above her means with her podiatrist husband and three kids – all signs indicate she’s clean as a whistle. The middle daughter is a wild cat, she writes sex novels for a living. That genre is surprisingly popular. Anyway, she’s been in Europe for the last year, I don’t think she’s involved, nor do I think she has any inclination that her father is who he is. The youngest, Holly Adkins, turned thirty recently. She owns a design company – LGM Décor and Renovations. Bio on her website says she specializes in historic property design and renovations. Guess what project she’s working on right now?”
“You know I don’t like games Alex, tell me.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Alex.”
“Midtown Bank Café.” He paused as he dropped that bomb on me.
“Bill and Shelia’s place? You’re fucking with me. Uncle Bill is involved in this shit?” I thought back to all of my childhood memories that involved Uncle Bill and Aunt Shelia. Hell, I spent most of my teenage years hanging out in that very café. Bill was more present in my life than my own father.
“Eh, he doesn’t appear to be involved. Maybe coincidence ...”
“There are no coincidences in this business, you know that as well as I do.” I interrupted him mid-sentence.
“Well, I haven’t found anything that ties them to our current case, with one exception. There was a flood recently at the café, the city was involved. Your father wrote Bill a hefty policy on that property years ago, and now with Adkins doing the renovations…” He let his voice trail off, knowing I would make my own inferences.
“Dammit, Adkins is working with my father.” I answered immediately.
“Ding, ding, ding. Holly Adkins. And guess who’s doing the renovations on the old Anderson place for Wilks?”
“Adkins.”
“Right again, you’re on a roll tonight. Wanna fly out to Vegas? I’m feeling lucky.”
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