The Milk Wagon Read online

  “That Marty is something else,” Emily said. “He absolutely loves that bike, doesn’t he?”

  Ms. Cooper sprung to life. “He does, Emily, and he was so proud to show it to you. Thanks so much.”

  “No problem. Nate, a bunch of us are going over to Jack’s for lunch. You coming?”

  “Yeah, just give me a second.”

  “Nate and I are running through some more ideas for Marty’s show. I’ll send him over when we’re done. Probably five or ten minutes.”

  “Why, Nate, I had no idea you were such an aficionado. You are hiding all kind of secrets, aren’t you?”

  Nate allowed a weak grin. “I guess so.”

  “Okay, I’ll save you a seat. See you in a few!”

  And then Emily was gone. It was a nice reprieve, but it was short lived, and now he was one-on-one again, and there was no way to avoid it. Once the door shut all the way, Ms. Cooper’s demeanor shifted from breezy gallery coordinator back to serious FBI agent, and she wasted no time getting to the point.

  “You should know Charlotte is not the first person in this case who met an untimely end. A few months ago, there was Tom Chrestman. We found him on the side of the road in Archie Park with three bullets through his head.”

  “Who is Tom Chrestman?”

  “One of the business partners in this little enterprise of your father’s. He was actually on his way to the FBI office the day he was shot.”

  “What was he wearing?”

  This was an odd question. “What?”

  “Was he wearing a suit?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a shirt and a tie. Why?”

  “I think I remember seeing this on the news.”

  “Oh yes, it was. The first death was another partner of theirs they called Birdy. He committed suicide when he thought we were going to cart him off to jail.”

  As she spoke, Nate clicked off the Polaroids in his head. She had described two of the more terrible ones pretty accurately. He couldn’t figure out how she knew. He had been extremely careful and very discreet about the pictures. The only time they had ever seen the light of day was out by the bonfire, and he was certain his friends hadn’t told anyone. Now she was baiting him to see who would blink first – and all indications were that it would be him.

  “Other than them ending up dead, you know what those two had in common?”

  “What?”

  “Me.”

  “You?”

  “I interviewed them both. Birdy, the first one, I only spoke with briefly, but I was hoping for a follow-up. Shortly after we met, he allegedly committed suicide before he went to serve his jail time.” She shook her head and continued. “The second, Tom, had met with me once before, and the morning he was murdered, he was about to come in for round two.”

  “But he never made it.”

  “He never made it. So here we are.”

  Nate thought he could speed things up by going out to Ferris and retrieving the photos. He started to reach into his pocket for his keys, but before he could get to them, Ms. Cooper pulled a checkbook out of her purse and held it up.

  “This is what I want to talk to you about.”

  A checkbook? He released the grip on his key ring and let his hand slide back out and hang by his side. “I don’t understand.”

  “What does it mean to launder money, Nate?”

  “Uh, people who get money illegally in large amounts can’t spend it because the government or the IRS will realize they have it. Once they are on to it, they can trace the money back to the source.”

  “Right. So?”

  “So they have to put the money into the system in a way so that when it comes back out, it’s clean.”

  “Clean?”

  “Meaning the link between the money and illegal act is no longer there.”

  “You have done your homework. How do they clean it?”

  Nate couldn’t figure out why she was having him jump through all these hoops, but he played along. “They form fake companies and deposit it offshore. But that doesn’t always work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Putting it overseas is risky, especially if the money is tainted. Who’s to keep someone over there from taking it as their own? Not like anyone’s going to call the cops if they do.”

  “Any other ways – closer to home?”

  “I don’t think so. Corporations can’t hide it as easy here as they can elsewhere. Tighter laws.”

  “What about using individuals?”

  “Instead of companies?”

  “Yes.”

  “If a person is on an account, then you’re not hiding the money. There would be no point.”

  “Could be,” she said, “if they open bank accounts using fake names or names of family members who are unaware.”

  He hadn’t thought of that. “But how do you get around the fact that a lot of money is still going into a bank account? Wouldn’t they still have the same problem?”

  “No, not if the accounts are not in their name. And not if there are multiple accounts. Because smaller amounts are deposited over a period of time, no one really finds out.”

  “How small?”

  “So long as each individual deposit remains under $10,000, they will not be reported.”

  It suddenly made sense to Nate. All of it.

  She pointed at the checkbook. “You ever open an account at Hub City State Bank?”

  “Up in Hattiesburg? Nope.”

  “Your dad ever set one up for you? To your knowledge?”

  Nate laughed. “Are you serious? My dad never did anything for me.”

  “Take a look at this and tell me what you see.”

  He did as she directed and pretended to study the information on the check. “Says here ‘Nate Mayes,’ and has a phone number I don’t recognize.” He squinted at it again. “That’s our old address from Hattiesburg.” When he read the next line, he snapped the cover closed and looked up at Ms. Cooper. “That’s my social security number.”

  “I will tell you that the register on that account says it has just over twenty-two thousand in it – which is a lot of money. Now this account, by itself, doesn’t mean anything bad is going on. Who knows, your dad could be putting money aside for you?”

  “Would never happen.”

  “Maybe not, but I have to look at the evidence in the light most favorable to the other side, and this by itself is not enough to issue a warrant.”

  “Have you found any others?”

  “We thought we had a lead – which is why we visited your house, but when we got there – nothing.”

  “So why are you showing it to me?”

  “Because I think this may be the tip of the iceberg.”

  He shook his head but didn’t respond. His hands started to sweat so he put them in his hoodie pocket as casually as he could. But not casually enough. Kathryn noticed.

  “I think this could be one of many accounts that are out there in your name. Problem is, I don’t know how to access them. I think Charlotte did, but I obviously can’t use her anymore, and before I go on a wild goose chase using internal channels running these down, I need to know I’m right.” She looked at him and put it out there. “I can’t have any more slip ups. I need your help.”

  Nate tried to hide his emotions. His old man – who never trusted Nate to even sit in his Porsche – had all along been using Nate to hide his money. Which was now, at least according to the banks, Nate’s money. The irony of the situation was not lost on him, and he almost wanted to laugh, but he didn’t, because now that he could see the big picture, things were shaping up differently.

  She handed him a business card with her name and number embossed on the front. On the back she wrote two additional numbers.

  “If you want to talk about it some mo
re, call me at any of those numbers. Unless I am out, one of these should work.” Her face turned serious again. “I would much rather speak informally than formally.”

  “Thanks.” Nate had been thinking about how to get back at his dad for years, but most of his ideas were sophomoric – revenge tales built on emotion and years of simmering anger. But this one was different. This one might actually work. He started to head out the door, but stopped and turned back to her. There was one more thing he needed to know.

  “Ms. Cooper?”

  “Yes, Nate?”

  “Just how much money are we talking here?”

  She didn’t even hesitate. “Just north of six million dollars.”

  He gave a responsive nod, doing his best to suppress a smile, then tossed her card in the trash as soon as he hit the sidewalk.

  Chapter 46

  Even after I made the block twice, I still couldn’t find a close parking spot. I ended up leaving the Milk Wagon behind a tire and auto shop closer to 25th Avenue, and it took me a good five minutes to walk back to the center of downtown. By the time I got to Jack’s, it was slammed. On any other day, I would have not been happy. I don’t do well when I’m starving. But this was the day after homecoming, and when I turned the corner just past the fountain drinks, I saw that Emily, Mark, and Wendy had secured the booth over in the corner. When Emily spotted me, she patted the spot next to her.

  She had saved a seat. Even better, when I slid on in, she planted a kiss on my cheek.

  “Well, hello,” I said, and gave her leg a squeeze. “How long have y’all been here?”

  “Probably fifteen minutes,” Em said, and squeezed me back. “I came straight from the gallery and got here first. As soon as I grabbed this booth, Mark and Wendy came in.”

  “Where’s Hop?”

  “He couldn’t make it,” Mark said. “Kristin wanted him to go shopping.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, that boy is whipped already.”

  “He ain’t the only one,” Wendy said and poked Mark in the side. He gave me one of those faces, and I made a note to follow-up with him to see exactly how much progress he had made under the cover of darkness.

  “You didn’t run into Nate on your way in, did you?” Emily asked.

  “No. Is he coming?”

  “Yeah. He’s doing his service hours with me over at Holden Gallery. When we got cut loose earlier, Ms. Cooper wanted to talk to him some more.”

  “Ms. Cooper?”

  “She’s one of the directors. She works there part time. I think she said her full-time job is with the FBI. He’s supposed to join us when they’re done.”

  “Cool. We can pull up a chair when he gets here. Y’all ordered yet?”

  “Yep,” she said, “I went ahead and got two larges when I sat down. One cheese, one pepperoni thin crust. They should be here any minute.” If I wasn’t in love with her before, I surely was then.

  A few minutes later the pizzas arrived, and as our waitress put them on the table, Nate slid a chair across the floor and plopped down at the end.

  “That’s about right,” I said, “showing up just when the food gets here.”

  “My timing is impeccable. What’s up, guys?”

  Mark mumbled something back, but no one could understand him because he had half a slice jammed in his mouth. To come from a family of eaters, one would have thought he would have been appropriately trained in the art of consumption.

  “You just now getting out?” Emily asked. “What took you so long?”

  “Ms. Cooper had a lot to say. A whole lot.” Nate grabbed a slice and leaned over to collect the hanging strands of mozzarella into his mouth. Then he looked around. “Anyone order me a D.P.?”

  “I had you one, but Mark drank it.”

  “Nice,” Nate said, shaking the empty cup. “If she comes back around, let’s get some refills.”

  “Anyway,” Emily piped back in, “Ms. Cooper?”

  “Oh yeah. Do you know she is the lead investigator on the case against my dad?”

  “News to me,” Mark said. It was news to all of us.

  “I bet that was awkward.”

  “Nah, not really. She mainly wanted to let me know I could bail if I didn’t want to continue with the gallery gig. So I might.”

  “You lucky dog,” Mark said. “I would. Especially if she was going to give me credit.”

  “Of course you would.”

  “So, what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll probably give it some thought. I always do better on a full stomach.”

  We inhaled the rest of the pizza, and the poor waitress had to refill our drinks twice more. Mark covered the tip, and I couldn’t tell if he did it to show off to Wendy or if he was just feeling generous. He told me they paid the band forty bucks to play, which meant he pretty much spent his entire take at lunch.

  “Nate, we’re going over to Mark’s to see if we can catch some games on TV. You want to join us?”

  “I’m going to pass this time.” He looked at his watch. “I probably need to get back home. Where are y’all parked?”

  Everyone except me had a spot up close, so Nate offered to drop me off on his way out. I was hoping to catch up with Emily, but I took him up on it anyway. It was easier after she told me she’d make sure we’d get together later that night.

  As soon as I got in and shut the door, things turned serious.

  “Look, man, I need you to do something for me.”

  “You got it. What’s up?”

  “Earlier, when I met with that Cooper lady – from the FBI.”

  “Yeah?”

  “We talked about more than just whether or not I should drop the work at the gallery. She told me some more stuff about my dad’s case. A lot more.”

  “Like what?”

  He cut his eyes over to me and shook his head. “Some pretty wild stuff. For one, she thinks he’s sitting on a pot of cash somewhere.” He looked out the windshield and started to say something but stopped and shook his head. “I would tell you more, but for now, I think the less you know, the better.”

  “C’mon, Nate. You can’t set it up like that and then not say anything.”

  “I have to do it this way, Matt. Let me just say that I may know who a few of those people are in those photos I showed you.”

  “Who? Tell me.”

  “I can’t right now. Just trust me on this. For your own good.”

  This was huge, and I wanted to trust Nate, but he wouldn’t give me any more details.

  “I need you to hide a few things. Here in the Milk Wagon – in the Trapper. Just for a little while.”

  “Things?”

  “Well, the Polaroids, for one. My dad cannot know I have these, and he’s prone to tear the house and my truck apart if he thinks I do.”

  “I don’t know, Nate. Those give me the willies. What else?”

  Nate reached behind the seat and grabbed his book bag. In the calculator pocket, he pulled out the Polaroids and handed them to me as if I had already agreed to the deal. Then he grabbed what looked like a small stack of papers, folded in half. When he opened them up, I saw they were deposit slips, but they were all blank, and from different banks. Hancock Bank, Peoples Bank, Magnolia Federal, and others. The last one had some scribbles on the back of it.

  “What are these?”

  “You probably figured out by now that I took more than just pictures from the safe that day, right?”

  “It had crossed my mind.”

  “Well, stacked in the back was a bunch of financial records – bank ledgers and things. I wouldn’t have given them a second look, but there was a weird map on the top with bank names written all over it and circled in red. The names in the ledgers matched up with the ones on the map. That’s where these deposit
slips came from.”

  “Did you take the – what did you call them? The ledgers? Did you take them, too?”

  “No, they were in binders. I just took these few.”

  “Why?”

  “Check ’em out. You’ll see.”

  I did and they looked just like any other blank checks I might have seen. I shrugged my shoulders.

  “Look again.”

  “Nate, c’mon –”

  “Read ’em. From the top.”

  I took another look. “Okay, so it’s a little weird. These are all in your name.”

  He smiled. “Exactly. Between that map and my name being on these, something didn’t feel right, so I tore one out of each check book. Made sure to pull ‘em out the back so no one would notice.”

  I still didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. “So, what does that mean? You’re acting like this is something important.”

  He didn’t answer, at least not directly. “I just need you to hang on to these – and the pictures. Just for a little while, okay? I need to check some things out, and while I do, these need to stay out of sight.” He pulled up next to the Milk Wagon. “Then I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

  “Does anyone know you have them?”

  “No one,” he said. “Not even you. Right?”

  “Ms. Cooper?”

  He made a face. “Eh, she doesn’t know I have them, either, but she thinks they’re out there. And she wants them bad. Real bad. So to answer your question, yeah, these are pretty important.”

  “What about the bank records? Didn’t she find them when the FBI went through your house?”

  “Apparently not, and that seems to be the big mystery. My guess is my dad stashed them away somewhere, but I can’t figure out why he hasn’t done anything with them.”

  “Done anything with them?”

  “Yeah. Like take the money and run.” Nate looked out over the parking lot. “Maybe they are watching him too closely for him to move; I don’t know. Still . . .” He looked back over to me. “Anyway, I need to keep what I handed you safe and sound, just for a little while, okay? It’s the least you could do.”

  “The least I could do?”