Page 70 of Juan

Amber blew out a huff of air. “Whatever nails his ass to the wall the longest is good for me.”

He chuckled. “You and me both,” he said.

“We’re going live now,” Leo said as a loud crackle filled the room. Everyone’s attention shot to the screen.

“We’re wrapping up here,” Grace said, her camera pointed at a wall Juan thought was in the living room.

“No drugs?” Sabina asked.

“Not as of yet. We’ve reserved the right to bring the dogs in tomorrow,” Grace said as her camera swiveled around the room. “But if you have any ideas, Amber, now would be a good time to share.”

Rather than sink into defeat, she straightened in his lap, her show of defiance doing things to him that weren’t appropriate. “Did you check inside his shoes in the closet? He was always very weird about his shoes,” she suggested.

“All seventy-five pairs of them,” Grace answered.

“And the attic? There are two. The one with a door from the upstairs hall, but there’s a second. The opening is in the closet in the primary bedroom.”

“Agents went through both, too.”

“What about the new painting? The watercolor in the front room?”

“We took that apart.”

Amber’s shoulders started drooping, but she didn’t give up entirely. “And the nickels? The framed ones hanging on the wall?”

“Took that apart as well. Just nickels. Although we checked the value of them and none of them are worth more than fifty bucks,” Grace said.

Daphne straightened and turned to face Amber. “He didn’t collect coins before?” Amber shook her head. “Could they be the ‘good’ that’s being bought and sold through the consolidator and the holding company?”

Everyone in the room paused to contemplate that question.

“But the money flowing through those companies is multiple times more than fifty bucks,” Amber said.

“But that’s how they do it, remember,” Sabina interjected.

Juan sifted through all the information they’d learned in the past few days. It took longer than it should, but when the light went on, it nearly blinded him. “It’s the car,” he said.

“The what?” Amber asked.

“The car. In the scenario you gave a few days ago,” he said. “Anthony lists a nickel on an auction website—”

“I’ll get on that right now,” Callie interrupted.

“Claims it’s a rare nickel. Worth whatever he says it’s worth,” he continued.

“Shit,” Grace said, obviously catching on.

“And there’s precisely one bidder at the asking price,” Juan said.

Amber stilled, although he could see her mind racing, fitting the pieces together. “The person isn’t buying the nickel; they are transferring funds to Anthony,” she said.

Sabina nodded. “Exactly. They provide payment to the holding company, kicking off the whole series of transfers Callie has already tracked. Anthony might even ship the nickel, although I doubt it, because why bother? Either way, he gets the money through what looks like a legit transaction because all those sites are buyer-beware sites.”

“And the authenticity of the coin is never checked or confirmed, so no one is the wiser,” Amber murmured. “And in turn, his buyers get their murder weapon. It all fits.”

“How the transfer of the drug happens, we still don’t know,” Leo pointed out.

“I bet he sends the coin,” Daphne said. Everyone looked at her, but she kept her eyes on the screen. “I did some research once on the greatest espionage plots in history. One of the ones that made the list was microchips hidden inside quarters.”