"I don't care what the sheriff has to say. Doesn't change the fact that this is our crime scene."
"That's a lot of cash. I think we should call the FBI. Don't you? Obviously, there is organized crime involved."
Malone leaned in and muttered. "Do you really want a bunch of feds asking questions? You brought a suspect and a confidential informant to a storage unit to collect $6 million without backup. Don't you think that looks a little strange?"
38
The PBPD forensic team arrived. Camera flashes bounced off the concrete walls. The local medical examiner wasn’t far behind. I stood watch as Malone and his men began the count.
This would take a while.
Jack stepped outside to call the sheriff.
Shane looked like he was about to explode. He grumbled in my ear, “You’re not going to let them take it, are you?”
“I don’t have a choice,” I hissed.
“This is bullshit.”
I gave him a look that saidshut the hell up and calm down.
JD returned a few minutes later. Not long after, county deputies arrived. Malone may have claimed jurisdiction, but they weren’t going to control the scene without a few deputies around.
It took the sheriff about 50 minutes to arrive. By the look on his face, he was not a happy camper. He pulled me asideand grumbled, "What part ofkeepmeintheloopdid you not understand?"
"Events occurred rapidly. There was no time."
The sheriff had a little back-and-forth with Malone, but that didn't go anywhere. They were sticking to their guns, and we were sticking to ours. At least county deputies would oversee the transfer.
We surrendered our duty weapons, and the sheriff put us on leave, as per protocol. We transferred Brandi into the custody of the county deputies. They escorted her out of the building and stuffed her into the back of a patrol car. She was taken to the local substation, processed, and printed.
"Any word from the kidnappers?" the sheriff asked me.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“Get back to Coconut Key before you get into any more trouble.”
“You got it.”
We left the scene and made our way down to the parking lot with Shane.
Lights flashed atop squad cars. News crews were on the scene. Cameras closed in.
In plain clothes, we looked like civilians.
“Were you involved in the shooting?”
“You should talk to the PBPD,” I said, then stepped out of frame.
“Did you see the assailants? What can you tell us?”
We continued across the lot, and they lost interest when a PBPD officer stepped out.
As soon as we got to our cars, Shane hissed, “That money is going to go missing.”
“It will make it back to evidence,” I said. “After that, who knows?”
Shane gave a cautious look around. The media was preoccupied with the officer at the main entrance. Shane said, “We’ve still got a shot at getting Riley back.”
