"Tell me everything." Farrah reached for her pad of paper.
"I found all the information between the sheets," Sutton began. "The accounting sheets, that is. It took some time, but I got there in the end.”
"You unearthed illegal activity from the paperwork?" Farrah sounded doubtful.
"Not exactly. At first I found what wasn't in the paperwork. Like I was telling Rex earlier, I looked hard at the HOA accounts, where a load of money had been deposited, and then it disappeared without explanation. And then I realized what I was seeking was most likely a second set of accounting books. There were two. One for the residents, should they ask to see them. And the other real set of books for the guys behind the money."
"A false set of books. I see." Farrah scribbled. "I assume you're talking about money laundering. The HOA was involved?"
"You might already know. It's called layering. A not so uncommon way for criminals to launder their illegal funds. When a big bundle of cash needs to disappear to avoid tax liability. Pretty clever, really. The money is sent through numerous transactions and various forms, so it's nearly impossible to trace.
"Rex and Viv led me down this path by requesting the HOA financials. Just to be clear, the HOA isn't where the proceeds ended up. Not by a long shot." Sutton paused to catch her breath. Then she started again.
"First someone invests in a cash-only real estate deal. It's not uncommon for deals to involve large amounts and even legitimate financial systems such as banks and mortgage companies."
"I'm very familiar with that process." Farrah turned to a fresh page in her notebook.
"I thought you might be. I don't have to explain all the details to you." Sutton paused to give Farrah a chance to agree.
Farrah's face paled. She fidgeted with her pencil. "No, you don't have to tell me." She sighed. "Frank Salucci. He's the guy. He's the head of the whole operation."
"That's what I figured," Sutton said. "So then Frank Salucci would collect the proceeds of a sale, paid for in cash. He'd take the cash and deposit it into a legit bank account. Or put it in a safe deposit box. That also works.
"Then Frank would start layering. He'd donate the cash to St. Barthomew's church. No one blinks when you donate to a church. Especially when it's put into an obscure but legitimate-sounding building fund. Like the consolidated repair initiative.
"Anything with ‘initiative’ is dubious in my opinion. At least that's what I've found. Anyway the St. Bart's account, on the second set of books, held millions of dollars. Then the money would disappear. It never showed up in the annual report for the congregation. So no one wondered. Like I was saying—separate books.
"But I followed the money, at least some of it. Didn't travel far. Went across the street to Carmine's Fluff and Fold. I suspect it arrived in shoeboxes. But I was unable to confirm that."
"The boxes off the truck!" Rex explained. "I knew something was dodgy when a well-heeled guy needed to sell sneakers like that. Just didn't add up."
Farrah mused, "A good cover. Who was that again?"
"The crooner, Dean Marcella," Sutton said.
Farah scribbled, then asked, "You say you don't have confirmation of that?"
"Not exactly." Sutton glowered. "But it doesn't take a genius to know he's the one. Plus he owns that private bank across the street from the laundry. He's just transferring the money from the bank to the Fluff and Fold. Another layering move."
"All of the money?"
"Not quite all," Sutton said. "Half of the cash flows to the Desert Tortoise HOA fund. Where Pete Langford makes up another fictitious account. Management and Maintenance, he calls it. Then he takes the money and hands it over to Joey Baker. The gambler in their little gang."
"We found a million stashed at the house where he was hiding." Farrah nodded. "I guess the baby carriage was an excellent cash delivery system."
Rex whistled long and low. Then he asked, "Joey laundered the dough for the organization. But why would he kill Carmine Nelson? That still puzzles me."
"To make the Fluff and Fold available for Dean Marcella. Maybe he wanted to cut out one of the middle men," Sutton suggested.
"Or maybe Carmine annoyed Joey somehow. They got into a squabble about some missing cash, something like that. So he ended up between the sheets," Rex added.
"Boss, you've been watching too many detective movies. Plus I didn't find any evidence of Carmine doing anything unusual. Unless he was scamming his pals and taking a lot of money off the top for himself. But let's get back to Joey. He's key to this operation.
"As you know, Joey plays poker. Nearly every day. He launders the dough by taking large amounts of cash and buying casino chips. He gambles a little and then cashes in the chips. The end result is that he walks in with dirty money and walks out with clean cash disguised as winnings.”
"So he isn't there to scam old women." Viv spoke out for the first time. "That's just a cover for a cover."
Rex whistled again. "Talk about fluff and fold. That money's been cleaned and laundered and cleaned again. Layering." He shook his head. When Farrah said nothing, he focused on her. For a cop she doesn't look too surprised, or what is it? What am I missing…
He turned to Viv, wondering if she had the answer. The set of her mouth and the calm expression in her eyes convinced him. She's not telling everything. He turned his gaze back to Susan Farrah.
She opened a top desk drawer and popped a piece of candy in her mouth. She's very nervous about something.
"Very clean," Sutton started again, "the laundering scam."
"So where does the money end up?” Viv asked. "After it leaves the Fluff and Fold, and the church, and the HOA?"
"That's when Joey goes on vacation," Sutton explained. "To the Bahamas or Switzerland. Before he heads to the airport he deposits the cash in the bank under a fictitious name. They transfer the money to an off-shore account. And Joey hops on the plane. When he lands, he walks straight to the bank and makes sure the funds have arrived and are secure."
Farrah kept scribbling. She finally looked up. "So that explains a lot. We have enough to send information to the Financial Action Task Force." Farrah scratched her head. "For years we've been looking down the wrong rabbit hole, hoping to catch them on wire transfer charges. But they've always evaded us. You've got proof, right? Of all of this?" She nodded to Sutton. "You haven't told me where you got all this information."
"I've got proof," Sutton assured her. "I have Google Sheets on a flash drive."
Rex cleared his throat. "Well we found the drive in the hidden locker at the casita. I must have forgotten to tell you, what with the excitement of Joey Baker getting away from your cop.”
Farrah glared at Rex. "That was unfortunate. But you interfered with the course of justice by not turning over the evidence."
"And you lost your main suspect. Let's call it even," Rex suggested.
When Farrah didn't disagree, Rex continued. "I know a lot about their motive, how they needed to launder money. But I'm still stuck on why Carmine Nelson? We're still at square one on that."
"Is he taking a fall for the team?" Viv looked carefully at Farrah.
The officer shrugged. She turned to Sutton. "Where's the drive?"
Sutton slipped her hand into her bra and took out the small object. She wiped it with her sleeve and handed it over to Officer Farrah. "Here you go," she said nonchalantly. "I'm done with it."
Farrah's cell phone on the table began to vibrate. "Yes," she answered crisply. Rex heard a loud voice from where he sat. But he couldn't distinguish the words.
"I know. Got it." Farrah's voice grew more clipped as she ended the call.
She reached for the badge pinned to her shirt. Once unpinned, she held it in her hand to take with her. Her chin trembled. "It seems I've been summoned to the chief's office," she said. "So I'll let all of you go."
"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Rex felt shocked.
"I've been pulled off the case," she admitted. "So like I said, you can all go. We'll be in touch. Or someone will, most likely not me." She glanced longingly toward the badge.
Rex felt Farrah's turmoil. Something was very wrong. What was her connection to the case that she might be hiding?
Though his gut twisted and his mind whirled, he felt unsure how to interpret his response. And then the familiar cylinder of images turned behind his eyes.
The dial whirred around and around and then spun to a halt. A selection of images all in a row. Rex closed his eyes to see an old photograph. It was more distinct than the others. He saw the unmistakable image of Frank Salucci front and center.
Hair longer, touching his collar, Salucci bent toward a little girl wearing a cowboy costume, complete with hat and a toy gun clutched in her chubby fingers. Frank seemed to be speaking to her like a father or an uncle. Rex took longer to focus on the image, his eyes squeezed shut. The little girl in the photo looked familiar. The tilt of her narrow chin.
Rex opened his eyes. He looked at Susan, who now stood at the open door ready to leave. Then he spoke.
"You're Frank Salucci's daughter. Is that why you're being taken off the case?"
"That's right." Farrah's voice sounded flat. "I'm his only child. So you've figured it out. That's why I’ve been between a rock and hard place for this entire investigation. For my whole life, if you must know."