More Money for Good (16 page)

About an hour after we left Tavious, Mrs. Bullock called to ensure things were okay. I found out the house was one of many rentals that she had. It would be almost impossible for anyone to connect it to her and Tavious. It was under her deceased husband's name and a fifty-year-old LLC. I could feel the urgency in her voice.

“West, you know time is our enemy now,” she started.

I agreed and continued to listen into the phone.

“I think it's time for us to take advantage of this connection to the reporter of the
AJC.
”

“What do you mean?”

“She has an audience, West. She has a column that is highly respected and we can use her notoriety to help us. Help us get the word out about these crooked cops and all their shenanigans. We don't want her to use Tavious's name in any of this. But we need her to draw attention to the police connections to these murders and Ely's connection to the department by supplying them with those trained dogs. Maybe this will slow them down.”

I fully understood what Mrs. Bullock was saying. The police were knee-deep in this for sure. If we could get Saadia to print such that would give us extra time to connect the dots to the murders. It would help with the perceived evidence the police had on Tavious.

It was late, but we couldn't wait until morning to call Saadia to get her on board with our plan. The way she felt about Tavious no doubt was going to work in our favor. I called Tavious to get her number and explain to her what we needed. He wanted to call Saadia himself. But Rossi didn't think he should. Saadia was crafty. Their relationship was hot like fire. If Tavious heard her voice and they connected it would be the end of his secret hiding place. After going back and forth with Tavious he finally agreed.

It was almost two in the morning when I dialed her number. The phone didn't finish the first ring before she picked up.

“Tavious?”

“Saadia, it's West.”

“West? What's wrong? Is Tavious okay?”

“Yes, he's fine.”

“Where is he?”

“He's fine,” I repeated.

After I was sure she knew I was not giving anything up on Tavious, I hit her up with our request. “Tavious needs a favor,” I told her.

“Anything, what is it?”

“The police are going to do him, Saadia. They are going to charge him with the murders of Ely and Amara and we've connected the police to the murders but can't prove it.”

“The police?”

“That's right.”

“And I can help how?”

“I have some information for you and we need you to print it in that newspaper of yours.”

“And this information is concerning . . . ?”

I wasn't sure, but it seemed Saadia picked up a pen and a pad that reporters keep at the ready.

“APD's major crimes unit,” I told her.

“Really now?”

I was sure she sat up in the bed when she heard what I said.

“A Major Curruth and her corrupt unit, you familiar?”

Saadia was very receptive to the information I had for her. I relayed the info we had gotten through Rossi's police informant. At the end of our conversation she was sure that she could do the article about the wrongdoings of the unit. She told me it would include Amara's murder and the ransacking of her place, along with the possible connection to Ely and his K-9s he provided to the police department.

At the end of the conversation Saadia wanted to meet the informant. Saadia said there was no way she could print so many damning allegations without sitting down and looking into the informant's eyes herself. Secondhand from me was not good enough.

I was able to get a few hours sleep after my phone conversation with Saadia. When I woke up Lauren wasn't shy about making her feelings known. She knew that I was busy, but she missed me and wanted to spend some time together. I understood how she felt because we were so into our lives before Tavious and the two million along with the murders. I declared to my sweetheart that I missed her too. So much that I wanted to take her out.

“We're going to a funeral?” were her first words when I pulled up into the funeral parlor out in the Cascades. “West, you're taking me to a freakin' funeral as a date?” she shrieked.

I hadn't completely parked the car yet, but I still answered her. “Yes, babe, real quick though. I need to check something out. Won't be but a minute.”

“West, when you told me we were going out, I thought at the very least some Smokin' Bones and a nice afternoon drink, then back home for some loving. But a freakin' funeral? You are now on top of my hot-mess list.”

“I couldn't tell you, Lauren. If I did, you wouldn't have come—am I right?”

“Right. You know you're right.”

“And that's why I didn't. Please, just go in for a second and we'll be out. We'll go anyplace you want.”

I had taken the keys out the ignition and looked at a few people walk inside the funeral home before Lauren even answered.

“So, whose friggin' funeral is this anyway?”

“Ely's,” I told her. “Poor bastard got beat to death in his own place of business. All those got-damn dogs he had and not one could save his ass. He was Tavious's mother's husband.”

“Well, I tell you what, if you don't take me out as soon as we leave this place, there is going to be another funeral. C'mon, let's go.”

I tried to kiss Lauren on the cheek but she pushed the car door open and was ready to get our visit over with. When we get inside there was no hiding the fact that the easily identifiable police were there, wearing out-of-style street clothing and checking out every last person who entered.

Inside I see Joyce and Mrs. Bullock talking, while about twenty or so others stood chatting. I took Lauren by the hand to make our way over to the ladies and overheard two men speaking about all the dogs Ely was leaving behind. They were wondering if it would be a good time to approach Joyce about purchasing them.

After I introduced Joyce to Lauren she and Mrs. Bullock thanked us for coming. I couldn't believe that something so awful could have happened so quickly and without anyone noticing anything. I didn't want to get Joyce's hopes up too high and divulge any information that we were looking into. But I did need to find out from her if Ely had been in any kind of disagreement with anyone he was doing business with on the police force.

“No, I'm not familiar with anyone from a major crimes unit,” Joyce said.

I didn't want to but I pushed her some more and asked her again.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “One night, I remember Ely getting a call from the police, and they wanted him to bring out Max.”

“Max?”

“Yes, that's one of Ely's prime dogs. The police wanted Ely to bring her to some kind of raid or something and wanted the dog to sniff something out or something like that.”

“So, they were looking for something?”

“I can't say, but I do know that he took the dog out and came back early in the morning.”

Mrs. Bullock could tell Joyce was close to another breaking point. She asked Lauren if she would take her down to the first row to sit down and we watched them walk away.

“Poor girl,” Mrs. Bullock said. “His death has her feeling like she's lost her entire world.”

“I'm sure she's dealing with a lot,” I let her know.

“West, I noticed all these police officers here, so I won't say too much.”

I just nodded my head and looked at a few of the officers who had made themselves at home. One in particular who was an uninvited guest to my home couldn't keep his eyes off me.

“Did everything work out with our friend?”

I took Mrs. Bullock by the arm and began to walk with her down the aisle to her seat next to Joyce. “We're going to sit down as soon as possible, and when that happens, I'll let you know.”

She made me promise to do just that.

I swear my intentions were to spend quality time with Lauren while we sat and ate an early dinner at her favorite rib joint. And we were doing just that. While enjoying our meal, I had just mentioned to Lauren what a wise choice she made in our dinner spot. I was seriously thinking about ordering another stack of ribs and a drink. That was until Rossi called. He let me know that he was with his contact. This guy was adamant about not sitting down with Saadia to share what he knew about the major crimes unit. Lauren picked up on my uneasiness. When the waiter came to check on us she asked for a takeout box and told me to go handle my business.

Lauren didn't say much when I pulled into our driveway, other than I could get in by myself; then she opened the door and walked off. I thought about going after her but there was no use. Our date had been ruined.

I picked Rossi up in about twenty minutes.

“We're going to do what?” Rossi wanted to know.

“Going to go back over your boy's, take him over Saadia's so she can do that got-damn article,” I told him.

Rossi gave me the directions to his home as we drove. He damn sure didn't have a problem with what I wanted to do. The only thing I remember Rossi saying was something or other about getting his cut of the money so he could put it in the bank. He needed to get a handle on his gambling.

During the drive we called Tavious and revealed what was happening. Tavious gave us Saadia's address. He was anxious to hear some results of what we had going because he needed some relief from the mounting pressure he was feeling. I told him we would let him know as soon as we could, if not sooner.

We made it to Samuel Ganes's home. We knocked. He finally answered.

“Sammy, baby,” Rossi said.

Ganes had his door open about half an inch. I could see half his eye. “Rossi? What the fuck? I already told you—not doing it.”

“Now, now, Sammy,” Rossi eased.

“Who the fuck is he?”

Ganes had his eye on me, and through that little-ass crack in the door, I could tell the police had really whooped his ass in that parking garage.

“He's my guy,” Rossi let him know. “His name is West. I've told you all about him.”

“Why'd you bring him here?”

Rossi changed his weight on his stance from left to right. “Don't, Sammy, you know why.”

“Can't do it,” Sammy decided. He tried to slam the door.

At exactly the same time Rossi and I put our hands up to the door and pushed it backward. He fell to the ground.

Rossi looked down at him. “Shit, man, you have no strength left after that ass beating, do you?”

Right after Ganes picked himself up from the floor, he told us he was getting ready to work the night shift. He was paranoid about us being there and said he had an eerie feeling someone was watching his every mood. He wanted us out of his house with the quickness. But we refused to leave. It was time for desperate measures. Over and over again we made it clear that Saadia wouldn't print his name or give him up. Ganes didn't want to hear what we were selling and told us to go fuck ourselves. He reinforced that we had no idea who we were dealing with and he wished he'd never told Rossi anything at all.

I didn't want to hear Ganes's bullshit. It was too late for the Monday-morning quarterbacking that he was spewing. I told him that if he wanted to play the game like that I would just give his name to the reporter and tell her to use it as she pleased.

Five minutes later he was dressed for his night shift and sitting in the back seat of my car on his way with us to see Saadia.

 

When we knocked on Saadia's door she took one look at our officer in uniform and quickly ushered us inside.

“You brought a fully dressed cop to my house?”

We all stood in the foyer waiting for her to guide us in. She shut the door and Ganes went back to the door and pulled the curtain back on the pane to see if anyone had followed us.

“Are you sure you guys want to keep this a secret?” Saadia took a good look at Ganes. “Never in my life have I had a cop in full uniform about to spill the beans on some corruption.”

“Had to bring him as is,” I let her know. “He starts his shift in forty-five minutes so we need to do this,” I clarified.

Saadia led us into her sitting room, which was right off of the front door. It was a sunken living room. When we all were seated she looked at Ganes. “You have some information for me?”

The deed for the article was done. Saadia seemed to be content with the information Ganes gave to her. I paid close attention as she asked questions that only a seasoned reporter could, to confirm what she was being told. When she felt she had enough, she quickly ushered us to the door so that Ganes could get to work. She declared she would have something for the paper in the morning as long as her editor approved it, which she didn't think would be a problem.

It was already late, and after we dropped Ganes off at his place there was nothing else to do other than go to the address we had for the major. It was time to try to find out if our hunch was right that the two million was stashed someplace in the house.

We parked the car close to the house and sat for a while. We were only a few houses down from the driveway. The house was dark with no movement inside.

Rossi rolled down his window and looked over at the house. “Just like old times, partner.”

“Just like,” I agreed.

“I say we go in,” Rossi decided.

“No one in sight and the fact they burst into people's places anytime they want, that alone gives me enough motivation to check it out.”

“You think that money is inside—don't you?”

“Yeah, I do, this major is playing everyone. Keeping this quiet little place. What is this, a one-, two-bedroom flat? One garage? The only other option is to have this place surrounded by police cars twenty-four-seven, keeping an eye out for the money, and that's too loud, man. People would suspect something.”

I wasn't sure if the money was inside, but the only way we were going to find out was to go inside and check for ourselves. One thing we both were sure of was that the major definitely had an alarm system on the house. I sat in the car while Rossi went to the backyard to find the electrical box connection to cut the system off. It took Rossi only a few minutes to finish the job. We decided to go to a nearby Walmart to pick up another flashlight with batteries. When we returned there was still no movement or lights on in the house. We waited another thirty minutes before we made our move to go inside.