Garden Grove, California
Shadowhawk followed Thomas out to the curb in front of the Schiffs’ house. He handed her the file he’d been carrying around. “The bank statements?”
“The Schiffs had a pretty nice nest egg.”
“Do you think that’s why they were targeted?”
“Maybe, but who would know that kind of information?”
“Are you thinking the daughter?”
“I don’t know.” Thomas glanced around. “Where is she?”
“She’s in the black and white over there.” Shadowhawk pointed. “I’m having her driven downtown to give a statement.”
“Good. I want to know who she’s been talking to. Let’s get her cell number and see if she has any friends in the area she keeps in touch with.”
One of the forensic techs walked out carrying a computer.
“Hey, Rick?” Thomas shouted.
The guy turned. “What’s up?”
“As soon as you can, let me know if the Schiffs did their banking online and if someone hacked into their account, will ya?”
“Sure thing.” Rick disappeared around the back of a van.
“If someone had that capability, they wouldn’t need to rob the house. They could just transfer the funds into an offshore account,” she said. “I don’t think this guy is that sophisticated.”
Rick appeared next to Thomas and handed him an evidence bag with a small piece of paper inside. “Or, they could just use the password. The old guy had this taped to the top of his desk next to his computer.”
“Shit,” Thomas said.
Shadowhawk glanced down. Sure enough, all his passwords were there, make that password. The man used the same one for every account: his street address. “Well, crap. When will people learn?”
“I find it all the time, especially with the elderly. Their memories aren’t very good,” Rick answered.
Thomas’s face deflated. “Thanks, Rick. Let me know what else you find.”
Rick took the evidence. “You bet.” He turned and went back to the van.
Thomas addressed her. “I’m thinking we check Wells Fargo while we’re here. Synchrony Bank is online only. At least the guy was smart about his finances. Victoria had some CD’s there. I just let them roll over when they mature. I can’t be bothered.”
“Yeah, all that money can be a real headache.” Her mouth clamped shut instantly. She couldn’t believe she’d just made that flippant remark. Victoria was his wife, who’d passed a few years back. That’s how he became a wealthy man. The money made him uncomfortable because he hadn’t earned it.
He’d never even mentioned it until now. She hadn’t known him at the time, but had heard the rumors floating around. As far as anyone knew, the BMW was the only flashy thing he’d ever bought and that was because his previous car had died. He’d even agonized over that decision for a while.
Ignoring her remark, he pointed to the Wells Fargo statement. “It’s on Harbor Boulevard. How about I follow you?”
“Sure.” She jogged down the street toward her truck, kicking herself in the ass the entire way. As she approached the vehicle, she noticed it looked funny. It took a second for her to realize why.
“God dammit all to hell.” She shook her head. “This day just keeps getting better and better.”
Thomas flipped a U-turn and pulled up focusing on her face. “What’s wrong?” She glanced down. That’s when he noticed her truck. “Holy shit. We weren’t in there long enough for those big tires to go completely flat.”
“Yeah, someone would’ve had to go all psycho with a really sharp knife to let that much air escape.” She squatted and checked the front tire, then moved to the back. “Some asshat cut the valve stems completely off.” She stood and slapped the side of the truck. “Dammit.”
“That’s pretty ballsy, any one of the uniforms could have turned around and caught the guy.”
She glanced back toward the Schiffs’ home. “I guess I was parked just far enough away that the jackass was willing to chance it, but why? I mean, seriously, why screw with a cop’s ride?”
“What do you want to do?”
She stared at the sky while she thought about it. “I have a friend who owns a tire place over on Beach Boulevard in Huntington Beach. I’ll give him a call and have the truck picked up.”
“Okay, while you do that, I’ll grab one of the uniforms to guard it and hand over the keys when the tow-truck driver gets here.”
“Thanks.” She pulled out her phone.
Thomas put his car in park and ran back to the scene while she looked up the number.
They entered the Wells Fargo bank and glanced around the lobby.
“How do you want to handle this?” She asked.
“Let’s find the manager.” He made his way to the nearest desk. “Excuse me, miss?”
A young girl, mid-twenties looked up. “Yes? How can I help you, sir?”
“I’m looking for the manager.”
“Oh.” She glanced at an empty office. “Let me see if I can find her for you.” She disappeared through a door.
A few minutes later, a short, round woman wearing a baby blue polyester pantsuit appeared. Her stubby hand shot out toward Thomas. “I’m Lola Munoz. What can I do for you?”
Shadowhawk assessed the woman: she was Caucasian, perhaps in her late fifties, with bleached blonde hair that was cropped way too short for a heavy woman. Maybe Munoz was her married name.
Thomas shook her hand, then pulled back his suit coat to reveal the badge clipped to his belt. “Is there somewhere we can talk in private?”
“Oh.” The woman’s eyes widened. “Let’s go into my office.” She waved her hand toward a glass room. The detectives entered before her and took the seats opposite the desk. She closed the door and sat. “What is this about, officers?”
Shadowhawk took out the 8 x 10 picture from her jacket pocket. It was of the Schiffs standing side-by-side with leis around their necks. It was folded in half; she showed the side with only the husband. “Do you know this man?”
Munoz leaned closer to get a better look. “That’s Mr. Schiff.” She sat back. “He’s a nice man. Charter member, meaning he’s one of the first to open an account here. Is he okay?”
“Why do you ask?” Shadowhawk asked.
The woman looked at each of them before answering. “Well, I can’t imagine him breaking the law.”
Thomas said, “Was he in last week?”
“I wouldn’t know, I was on vacation. I’d have to ask my Operations Officer, Christy.”
“If you wouldn’t mind.” Thomas’s matter-of-fact tone seemed to startle the woman.
She placed her hands on the desk and stood. “Certainly.”
After the door closed behind her, Shadowhawk turned to Thomas. “How much are we going to tell them?”
“Depends. Let’s play it by ear.” He looked out the window into the lobby, then back at her. “By the way, what do you think happened with your truck?”
“An asshole decided to show the cops how clever he was, why?”
He stared at her for a couple of beats, then said, “Just wondering.”
“Oh, no.” That was a calculated answer. “You’re not getting away with it that easy. What are you thinking?”
“Is it possible it was personal?”
“Like the guy just didn’t like the way I looked or something?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that whoever messed with your truck took a huge risk. Besides, it would make more sense in a neighborhood like that to take out the tires of a Beemer.”
“But your car was closer to where the uniforms stood guarding the scene. My guess is that the guy still has at least one brain cell left.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
His answer was too quick. She stared at him a moment as she tried to get into his head.
The office door opened and introductions were made. Since they were shy one chair, Thomas stood and let the Operations Officer, Christy Jarvis, sit in his. She all but batted her lashes at him. The woman had 80’s hair. Her ‘do’ was really big, teased within an inch of its life.
She wore acrylic nails that were more like talons, two, maybe even three inches long. They were so long they curled like cork screws. Gross. How the woman could pick up a paper clip was anyone’s guess. They were painted a glittery dark blue, a color usually worn by teenagers or young adults.
This woman had to be in her mid to late forties. She was in danger of being smacked in the jaw by her massive boobs. She had to be sporting a Wonder bra, there was some major lift going on there. Shadowhawk wouldn’t be surprised if she had a ginormous tattoo that read: Go Big or Go Home!
Her red and black animal print dress was one of those slinky rayon numbers that accentuated her curves, which weren’t bad. She was probably a looker in her day, turning a lot of heads. She was still turning heads, but for all the wrong reasons. Shadowhawk realized the woman was grinning at her like a Cheshire cat. She must have taken her assessment the wrong way.
No way, lady, not in this lifetime.
Thomas said, “So, Ms. Jarvis.”
“Call me Christy.” She flashed him her pearly whites.
Dream on, lady. Barking up the wrong tree. Again.
Thomas didn’t skip a beat. “We’ve been told that Benjamin Schiff is a charter member with this bank. Are you familiar with him?”
“Oh, yes. He and Barbara come in together to do their banking. They do everything together. He even takes her to get her hair done every week and actually waits in the salon for her, it’s so sweet.”
Thomas pushed on. “Did you see them last week?”
“Yes, they were in.”
“What day was that?”
“Wednesday they came in to cash a check.”
Shadowhawk jumped in. “How can you be so sure it was Wednesday? Don’t you need to refer to your computer or something?”
“Because they always come in on Wednesday to cash a check.”
“Why Wednesday and not Monday or Friday?” Shadowhawk asked.
“Because Wednesday is errand day. Thursday is hair day. And Friday they go to lunch.”
That surprised Shadowhawk. “How do you know so much about their lives?”
“Because they talk to me. I was their favorite teller when I was on the line. They would actually wait for me.”
“What do you mean, wait for you?” Thomas asked.
“They would let others go before them in line until I was available.”
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Shadowhawk stated.
“And when was the last time you were in your bank?” Christy asked Shadowhawk.
“When I opened the account. I do all my banking through the ATM or drive-up window,” Shadowhawk said.
“Exactly. They’re old school.”
“How much did they get?” Thomas asked.
“One hundred dollars. Four twenties, two fives and ten ones.”
“How the heck do you know that?” Shadowhawk asked.
“Because we were visiting while the teller waited on them. Besides, it’s always the same, it has been for years.”
Thomas said, “And how did they seem to you? Were they stressed about anything?”
“Not then, no.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Mr. Schiff came back late Thursday, right before we closed.”
“What did he want?” Thomas asked.
“To cash a very large check.”
“How large?”
“Seventy-five thousand dollars. He all but cleaned out his account, save for a hundred and change. I had to approve the transaction, of course. When I went over to question him, he seemed nervous. I asked what he needed the money for. He said they were buying a car. Then I asked about Barbara. He said she wasn’t feeling well and stayed home.”
“Did he always take cash when buying a car?”
“No. He always dealt with the same dealership. They took his checks just fine. I tried to talk him into getting a cashier’s check. I explained that we needed advance notice when customers needed that much cash.”
“What was his reaction?” Thomas asked.
“He got very agitated. I thought he might cry. It was very distressing to see. I asked if he were in some sort of trouble? Did he want me to call the police? He shouted ‘No. Just give me my money.’ He wasn’t himself.”
“Did you think to call the police anyway?” Shadowhawk asked.
“And say what? He wasn’t breaking any laws, it was his money. The only thing I’m required to do is fill out a form as part of the Patriot Act.”
“Did you have that much cash on hand?” Thomas asked.
“Well, yes, but only because we’d just received a shipment that afternoon. The next day was payday for Nakahama Nursery. All of their employees come in with their green cards and cash their checks. I ended up having to do an emergency cash order after he left.
“I tried to deter him in every way. I told him it would take some time to get the money together and maybe he should come back the next day. He said he would wait. I told him if he paid cash, he wouldn’t have any recourse if something went wrong with the car.”
“He said he’d had it checked out, the car was fine. It was a really good deal and he couldn’t get it unless he paid cash. I explained the person just meant they won’t wait for a loan to be approved. A cashier’s check should suffice if the person was on the up and up. I really didn’t want him walking around with that much money.”
Thomas asked. “What did he say to that?”
“He looked at the door, then back at me and said he knew what he was doing. Please hurry. So I told him to have a seat in the lobby and someone would come and get him when it was ready. That’s when he told Jessica, the teller waiting on him, that he needed to get into his safe deposit box.”
“Obviously, the man was acting hinky. Didn’t you do anything at all?” Shadowhawk asked.
The woman pinned her with a stare. Shadowhawk had obviously riled her feathers. “I had, John, one of the tellers, go out to the parking lot and see if there was someone out there that looked suspicious.” Her voice came out clipped. “I even asked him to check his car. When he returned, he told me he didn’t see anyone.” She turned back to Thomas. “Please tell me, has something happened to Mr. Schiff?”