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Authors: Kathleen Rowland
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clenched.
“If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, it is a duck.” Guhleman snarled. “ISIS depends on Takbir for additional funding.”
Finn said nothing for a moment. The ISIS network needed more than the kidnap ransoms, extortion, taxes on non-Sunni, looting, and bank robberies.
McGill said, “The Sureños are as violent as Takbir.”
Finn agreed. “They use chainsaws instead of swords, but size doesn’t compare. ISIS is a vast organized crime gang.”
McGill clicked through the photos. When finished, his lips tightened. “After Takbir gets what they want, they’ll kill the heathens.”
“Before that, we’ll take them all down.” The bloodhound spoke with smug confidence.
McGill turned toward Guhleman. “FYI, Donahue was an Army Ranger.”
“Ah.” The hound put his head back as if he’d heard of him. “Any theories, Donahue?”
“Just the obvious. Takbir tapped into the Sureños’ network, telling them it’d be a two-way profit. The Sureños are not recruits,” Finn said.
“Agree. They’d never give up their musica for the sake of Allah,” the agent said. “Mixing things up confuses anyone looking.”
The Irish weren’t fooled. Finn had a maneuver of his own. He’d touch base with the youngest Rourke son, Sean. He sidestepped the family’s tradition.
The sheriff’s phone rang. McGill looked at Agent Guhleman. “I’ve been expecting a call about Donahue’s missing cash. There’s siphoning going on at his company. Discovered a bank account. Mirrors the original.”
“Fraudulent accounts interest me. I like making the IRS happy,” Guhleman said.
McGill tipped his head to read the ID on his phone. “Los Angeles fraud examiner. Zeke Blake.” His hand reached back and he hit the speaker button. “Sheriff McGill here.”
Finn wanted to speak with the fraud examiner himself. After all, he’d brought Amy’s findings to the table, giving them something concrete. He inclined his ear.
The detective summarized previous findings and then said, “The date Les was shot was October tenth, three years ago.”
“Roger that,” McGill said.
Guhleman said, “Lester Kelly. Fuck.” The case meant something to him. “Finn Donahue. You’re a victim of a financial crime.”
“Yes.” Finn turned his attention to the detective’s voice on speaker.
“We located another surveillance tape.” Blake’s voice had a catch to it as if he caught a detail. “In front of a bank.”
Finn’s interest peaked.
McGill said, “Fine, send us a link.” He opened it up to reveal a video of Lester Kelly. He held a pistol and darted toward the alley behind the bank.
Finn said, “Kelly didn’t drop in an alley.”
The bloodhound scoffed a snort through his nose.
“Kelly held a gun. We don’t know if he fired it.” Detective Blake kept pushing. “Weird. We know someone shot him.”
Guhleman pressed his lips into a thin line. “Knock. Knock.”
Okay, I’ll play. Finn said, “Who’s there?”
Guhleman said, “Les.”
Finn said, “Les Who?”
Guhleman said, “Les Kelly. Still here.”
He does have a twin.
McGill shook his head. “Stop with the knock-knock jokes.” His police radio popped and hissed with static.
Finn tried to make sense out of the new evidence. Les was armed and ready for trouble.
McGill walked to the coffee station, put a donut on a napkin, and returned to his desk. “Blake’s forensic accounting team will finish their report. They’ll fax it after their final review.”
“What are their preliminary findings?” Guhleman asked.
McGill took a bite and chewed. “The account shows money laundering.”
“This case is mine!” Guhleman rubbed his hands together with cheesy horror-movie glee.
Finn gave the agent a thumbs-up.
“I want to hear more,” Guhleman said.
McGill said, “The first laundering phase co-mingles with cash stolen from your business, Donahue. Believe it or not, laundered funds and your cash carry separate transaction
“If it walks like a duck, and talks like a duck, it is a duck.” Guhleman snarled. “ISIS depends on Takbir for additional funding.”
Finn said nothing for a moment. The ISIS network needed more than the kidnap ransoms, extortion, taxes on non-Sunni, looting, and bank robberies.
McGill said, “The Sureños are as violent as Takbir.”
Finn agreed. “They use chainsaws instead of swords, but size doesn’t compare. ISIS is a vast organized crime gang.”
McGill clicked through the photos. When finished, his lips tightened. “After Takbir gets what they want, they’ll kill the heathens.”
“Before that, we’ll take them all down.” The bloodhound spoke with smug confidence.
McGill turned toward Guhleman. “FYI, Donahue was an Army Ranger.”
“Ah.” The hound put his head back as if he’d heard of him. “Any theories, Donahue?”
“Just the obvious. Takbir tapped into the Sureños’ network, telling them it’d be a two-way profit. The Sureños are not recruits,” Finn said.
“Agree. They’d never give up their musica for the sake of Allah,” the agent said. “Mixing things up confuses anyone looking.”
The Irish weren’t fooled. Finn had a maneuver of his own. He’d touch base with the youngest Rourke son, Sean. He sidestepped the family’s tradition.
The sheriff’s phone rang. McGill looked at Agent Guhleman. “I’ve been expecting a call about Donahue’s missing cash. There’s siphoning going on at his company. Discovered a bank account. Mirrors the original.”
“Fraudulent accounts interest me. I like making the IRS happy,” Guhleman said.
McGill tipped his head to read the ID on his phone. “Los Angeles fraud examiner. Zeke Blake.” His hand reached back and he hit the speaker button. “Sheriff McGill here.”
Finn wanted to speak with the fraud examiner himself. After all, he’d brought Amy’s findings to the table, giving them something concrete. He inclined his ear.
The detective summarized previous findings and then said, “The date Les was shot was October tenth, three years ago.”
“Roger that,” McGill said.
Guhleman said, “Lester Kelly. Fuck.” The case meant something to him. “Finn Donahue. You’re a victim of a financial crime.”
“Yes.” Finn turned his attention to the detective’s voice on speaker.
“We located another surveillance tape.” Blake’s voice had a catch to it as if he caught a detail. “In front of a bank.”
Finn’s interest peaked.
McGill said, “Fine, send us a link.” He opened it up to reveal a video of Lester Kelly. He held a pistol and darted toward the alley behind the bank.
Finn said, “Kelly didn’t drop in an alley.”
The bloodhound scoffed a snort through his nose.
“Kelly held a gun. We don’t know if he fired it.” Detective Blake kept pushing. “Weird. We know someone shot him.”
Guhleman pressed his lips into a thin line. “Knock. Knock.”
Okay, I’ll play. Finn said, “Who’s there?”
Guhleman said, “Les.”
Finn said, “Les Who?”
Guhleman said, “Les Kelly. Still here.”
He does have a twin.
McGill shook his head. “Stop with the knock-knock jokes.” His police radio popped and hissed with static.
Finn tried to make sense out of the new evidence. Les was armed and ready for trouble.
McGill walked to the coffee station, put a donut on a napkin, and returned to his desk. “Blake’s forensic accounting team will finish their report. They’ll fax it after their final review.”
“What are their preliminary findings?” Guhleman asked.
McGill took a bite and chewed. “The account shows money laundering.”
“This case is mine!” Guhleman rubbed his hands together with cheesy horror-movie glee.
Finn gave the agent a thumbs-up.
“I want to hear more,” Guhleman said.
McGill said, “The first laundering phase co-mingles with cash stolen from your business, Donahue. Believe it or not, laundered funds and your cash carry separate transaction
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