“This is a lot of money.”
Nick held up the pages in his hand. “Over a million dollars moved through this one account in just a month.”
They’d been up for hours sorting through all the information on the flash drive. It had taken three of Elliott’s best guys an hour to crack the encryption on the files saved on the drive. Now that they were in, Elliott had printed some of it so they could help him sort through it all.
Jackson had gotten up a few times to bring drinks and nuke some food. He wanted them fueled so they could keep working. It was almost three in the morning, but he didn’t want to go to bed. Going to bed felt like admitting defeat.
It was ridiculous, but he was strangely hopeful. He tried to squelch the feeling before it could take hold. What they found likely wouldn’t change anything, but he couldn’t help hoping there was an explanation.
Maybe Ridley had taken the money because she was being blackmailed? Maybe David had gotten her into something that she couldn’t get out of and she’d panicked.
He knew it probably made him a stupid sap, but if she’d just needed money to get away from whoever was chasing her, he could forgive that. What he really wanted was just to know that she was okay.
Elliott handed him another stack of paper. Most of it appeared to be bank transactions, so Jackson gave it to Nick. “You’ll be able to decipher this before I will.”
Nick looked through the top few sheets and frowned.
“Most of this stuff seems to be confirmations of wire transfers. But it’s to a lot of different accounts. It would help if we could figure out who the accounts belong to, but I can tell you one thing—all the transactions appear to have started roughly three years ago.”
Elliott grunted. “Has anyone else noticed that three years seems to be a recurring theme here?”
“You think it’s important?” Jackson asked. “Or just a coincidence?”
“I don’t believe in coincidence.” Elliott stood and paced a bit before cracking his knuckles. “Let’s look at everything we know. This guy was into something shady, he had dealings with the Morenos, and it all started three years ago.”
“What the hell happened three years ago?” Nick threw his pile of paper on the floor.
Elliott sat back down behind his laptop and tapped the mouse to wake it up. “Let’s find out.”
Nick and Jackson exchanged looks before moving closer. When Elliott had a hunch about something, he was rarely wrong. He could take bits and pieces of random information and use them to chase almost any lead down. It was what made him so good at what he did.
“What are you going to do? E-mail one of your military buddies?” Jackson asked eagerly.
“No.”
Nick snapped his fingers. “Hack into the FBI database?”
Elliott gave him a quelling look. “Hell, no.”
Jackson leaned forward. “So, what’s your brilliant plan?”
“Google it.”
“What? Eli, this is serious.”
“I’m serious, too. I would have done it earlier if I’d made the connection. I just have a feeling that if we do a search on the Morenos and filter the results by year, we’ll get an idea of what’s going on.”
His fingers flew over the keys. Finally, he hit “Enter” and sat back.
Nick had moved next to him so all he had to do was lean over to see the screen. His eyes widened before he glanced at Eli. “Does that mean what I think it means? Jesus.”
Eli stood and pulled his cell phone out. “Danner? I need an eye on Ridley Wells.”
Jackson jumped up and crossed to the computer. He peered at the articles on the screen. There were tons of listings about the Morenos.
“She’s in the house. Was anyone monitoring the property before she went in? Christ. Tell Rothwell, Holmes, and Maddox to meet me out front.” Elliott hung up and strode to the door.
“What’s going on? Nick?”
His brother wouldn’t look at him and just clicked on one of the articles. It loaded and the headline screamed out at them in big bold letters.
- - Heir To The - -
- - Moreno Crime Syndicate - -
- - DEAD AT 33 - -
“What the hell is this?” He stood as Elliott withdrew his Glock from its holster and did a quick check of his ammunition.
“Alberto Moreno only had one child. I should have remembered this case. It was huge news at the time. It was rumored that the FBI was closing in, getting ready to take them down. Most of their evidence was against the son. Then he suddenly died. Three years ago.”
Jackson’s heart dropped. “Three years?”
“You want to guess how he died?”
“Don’t say a car crash. Please don’t say it.”
Elliott put a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Not a car crash, but it was a fire. The body was too burned to identify using the usual methods. Now we know why.”
Jackson shook his head, fear gripping him so hard he could barely get the words out. He’d sent her out there alone with nothing more than a weak apology and an offer of cash. He couldn’t have failed another woman he loved.
Jackson raced for the door. “Oh God. Ridley.”