“We’re going to talk more on that, but you guys need to know. This is a major mess you guys stepped into.” He sighs. “Like, amajormess. There were files even I couldn’t access. Missingpieces and blacked-out memos where the only thing I can see is the heading. Even the files the FAA and the NTSB have are missing pages.”
“What were you able to find out?” Shawn asks.
“The two detectives with the WSP? Each of them deposited ten thousand dollars the day before Paul’s plane went down.”
“Before?” I ask at the same time Shawn does.
“Yeah, before,” he confirms.
Shawn’s anger fills the room, weighing down the very air around us. “Then someone knew they were going to be assigned that case before it even happened.”
“Pretty much,” Tucker replies to Shawn. “Since it was a cash deposit, I can’t trace it.”
“They covered their tracks.”
“Did you look into any of the other officers in that office or at the FAA and NTSB?”
“I did,” he replies. “The only suspicious thing I found was on a Cary Seymore with the WSP. He was a detective with Seattle PD but got transferred and promoted the week before Paul’s plane went down. The previous captain retired early. It came out of nowhere, and a job opening wasn’t officially posted.”
So he was moved into play like a chess piece.
My gaze levels on Shawn as he paces, taking a moment to formulate his response.
“You still there?” Tucker asks.
“We are,” I reply.
“I know Seymore,” Shawn finally says, stopping near my bed. “He’s the one we went to see right before Beckett got shot.” His gaze levels on mine.
“Then I’d say he’s the next place to start. I dug into his financials and didn’t find anything, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. If he received cash, he may not have been dumb enough to deposit it.”
“But that means we have nothing to link him to the others.”
“No,” Tucker replies. “Not yet, at least. I’m still digging, but—” A baby cries in the background, and my heart twists, that familiar pang hitting me. “Sorry, baby’s fussy today. Um, yeah, I’m still digging. I just wanted to give you guys an update.”
“Thanks,” I reply.
“Of course. So, how bad was it?” he asks.
“Not too?—”
“Bad,” Shawn interrupts. “She lost too much blood and died—twice.”
“You’re in good company then,” Tucker replies, but there’s no humor in his tone. “You’re okay now?” he asks.
“I will be once this is all over.”
“I’m not giving up. Also, I let Riley know you were dealing with something. He and Jules are in Seattle right now for some charity function honoring her grandfather. I’ll let him know what happened, but you really need to let him help where he can.”
“Let them focus on their function,” I say. “Please, Tucker, I’ll be okay. Now we have something to follow.”
“I’m still telling him,” he replies. “But I’ll let him know that you’ll call if you need something.”
“Thanks.” Relieved that I won’t be disrupting what he and Jules have going on, I close my eyes.
“Yeah. Hey, Sampson? Can you take me off speaker?”
“Sure.”
