Julia Spencer-Fleming - One Was a Soldier

He broke off, panting, hard, and realized they were still in the Algonquin’s parking lot. Any guests looking out their windows were going to see a lot more than foliage. “Shit.” His own voice was pretty far gone, too. “I’m sorry.” He laughed harshly. “So much for discretion.”

She shook her head. “It’s Opperman.”

He reached down to adjust himself. “Darlin’, I can guarantee you it’s not Opperman did this to me.”

“No, I meant-” She grinned at him. “Never mind. Come back to the rectory with me. I’ve got a couple of hours before my afternoon appointments.”

“No.”

“Your mother’s place.”

“ God, no.”

“Your truck.”

He paused at that one. Sighed. “Regretfully, no. Nice idea, though.” He searched her face for a safe spot and settled for kissing the tip of her nose. “I’ve got to get back to the station. Hold that thought.”

At his desk at the end of the afternoon, his vision blurring from the small print the state used on its crime stats reporting forms, his mind kept going back to Clare. Not the good stuff: He packed the image of Clare, nude and in his pickup, into a box labeled LATER . Instead, he thought about her exchange with Opperman. Something about it was sticking in his brain.

Lyle came in without knocking, which made him grateful he hadn’t been sitting there trying to figure out how to fit a mattress in the bed of his truck.

“I finished the rest of the midmonth stuff we gotta send on to CADEA for you.” Lyle tossed a folder on his already overcrowded desk before collapsing in the one chair still empty of booklets, bulletins, and circ sheets. “Kevin says in Syracuse they got two full-time civilian employees to deal with the paperwork. Think about that, will you?”

“First another officer. Then a second-shift dispatcher. Third, Tasers. A paper pusher comes fourth after that.”

“Tasers.” Lyle snorted. “When I started out, all you needed was a club. My first sergeant taught me how to break open hippies’ heads with a nightstick. Good times.” He sighed. “You find out anything about Wyler McNabb?”

“According to John Opperman, he was, in fact, sent back to Iraq to join the construction team. They get six months on, six off, and his time card was punched.”

“With a busted jaw. Right.”

“Opperman claimed he didn’t know the guy was out on bail.”

“You believe him?”

“I did at the time. Now I’m not so sure. I don’t doubt Opperman could have sent McNabb off and lied about it just to make my life more difficult.”

Lyle shrugged. “No skin off his nose. He’s not the one posted bail.”

“Yeah. Here’s the thing. He said Arlene Seelye had interviewed him. Asked him about Tally McNabb.” Russ crossed his arms on top of the drifts of paperwork. “Wouldn’t she have also asked him about Wyler McNabb? He was her biggest lead. She knew he worked for BWI Opperman.”

Lyle nodded. “Makes sense. I would’ve.”

“But she also knew McNabb was under arrest.”

“So she told Opperman. You already said he might have known, and sent the guy off to Iraq anyway. He doesn’t care if he takes a dump on Seelye’s investigation.”

“Maybe, but think about it. He’s got a lucrative contract with the army. Why would he chance jerking them around?”

“What chance? When was the last time somebody complained and got rid of Halliburton? Or Blackwater?”

“Those are the big boys. The T. rexes of the contracting world. Opperman’s one of the little guys, comparatively speaking. He’s got to make nice and deliver the goods and keep his accounts clean, because there are five other guys just like him waiting to take his place if he goes down.”

“Then what? It can’t be the money. Opperman’s the CEO and majority stockholder of BWI Opperman. The damn company’s estimated worth is five hundred million.”

Russ raised his eyebrows. “And here I was, thinking you were just a pretty face.”

“I read more’n Guns and Ammo, you know.”

“I’m agreeing with you. A million’s small potatoes for him.” He folded his hands. “It’s a hell of a lot for a lieutenant colonel, though.”

“Seelye?”

“The way things played out doesn’t make a lot of sense if she went in there asking questions like we would, right?”

Lyle made a noise of cautious assent.

“What if she never mentioned Wyler McNabb because she had already suborned him? Or because they were already accomplices? She was in Iraq. She told me so herself.”

Lyle sat for a moment, his woolly eyebrows drawn down in thought. “That’s a mighty thin thread to hang her on.”

“What if I told you she left town yesterday? The same day Wyler McNabb did?”

“I’d say it’s likely her investigation petered out here and she went after the next lead. We’re talking cash, stolen overseas by a bookkeeper. It’s probably sitting in an account in the Cayman Islands right now.”

“Which is one of the reasons Seelye wanted to search McNabb’s house so bad. We were just looking for evidence pointing to suicide. She’s a financial crimes specialist. If there’s anything to lead her to an offshore bank or some other money-laundering operation, she’s going to find it at Tally’s house. Or at her place of employment. Or at her family’s or friends’ houses.” He reached for the phone. “Hang on. I want to check something out.” He dialed the courthouse.

“H’lo Washington County Courthouse Lila Greuling speaking may I help you please.”

“Lila, it’s Russ Van Alstyne.” When he had worked for her dad back in high school, he’d always let talkative little Lila follow him around, “helping.” His patience with an eight-year-old paid off when she became a clerk of the court.

“Well, hel-lo, handsome. What can I do you for?”

“I’m looking to find out if Judge Ryswick issued a residence-and-accounts warrant on Wyler McNabb, 16 Musket Way, Millers Kill.”

“Not through me, he didn’t. When would this have been?”

“Sometime in the past week. The investigating officer was an army MP, but it might have come through the DA or the Feds.”

“Lemme check with the other girls.” The line went to music. She was back in less than a minute. “Last thing fitting that description came out of your own department on the thirteenth. Deputy Chief MacAuley got a warrant against Mary McNabb’s Allbanc accounts.”

“Okay. Thanks much, Lila.” He hung up. “Seelye never searched the house.”

“Legally,” Lyle said.

“Or the accounts. A suspect has money hidden away. What’s the first thing you do?”

“Search all the accounts I can find.” Lyle rubbed his lips. “Damn, I wish I’da spread the net wider when we asked Ryswick for that first warrant.”

Russ shook his head. “Not your fault. We didn’t know McNabb had stolen the money at that point.”

“We’ll never get another warrant out of him. The case is in Seelye’s jurisdiction, not ours.” Lyle straightened in his chair. “Wait a minute. If she’s looking for the money for herself, how come she didn’t go ahead and search those accounts?”

“Maybe she already found out where it’s hidden. She might have talked to McNabb. Or like you said, she could’ve searched his place illegally.”

“Or she might have been behind the B and E at Tally McNabb’s mom’s place.”

“Maybe. If she’s dirty, everything’s up for grabs.”

“Your fingers are twitching.”

Russ looked down to where his hands were resting atop paperwork. “Yeah?”

“You do that when you’re trying to figure something out.”

Russ sighed. “Yeah.”