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I shake my head. “Nope.”
There was no address listed for the new owner on the title either, which might’ve made things a bit easier.
“Could be some kind of shell corporation,” I suggest, when Savvy’s search brings up little to no information on HDLink.
“Why don’t I put a call in to Special Agent Mancuso?” she offers. “See if the name flags anything.”
As much as I appreciate the Spokane agent we worked with on a case before, I’m not a fan of the FBI swooping in and taking over my investigation. I used to hate it when I worked for the CdAPD, but we had more tools at our disposal there than we do here in Edwards County. We’re a small force, with limited manpower and resources.
So far, we haven’t made much traction with what we have. Hell, I’m still waiting for Severin’s cell phone provider to send us his telephone records, and his bank is slow in processing the request for the release of his financials. The FBI would have immediate access to all of it.
“Yeah, I guess,” I capitulate reluctantly.
I don’t enjoy giving up control, but I have to recognize our limitations. Normally the more puzzle pieces we collect in an investigation, the better the big picture comes into view. Unfortunately, in this case, every new piece of information seems to muddy the water even more.
Just as Savvy’s call to the FBI agent goes through, a ping comes in on my phone, alerting me to a text message. It’s from Dana.
* * *
Do you have a minute?
* * *
I quickly shoot her one back.
* * *
I’ll call you in five?
* * *
She responds with a thumbs-up.
It’s more like twenty minutes for us to get Mancuso up to speed and for me to send him copies of whatever we have as soon as I get to my desk. Then I call Dana.
“Hey, sorry to bother you,” she starts by saying.
“Not a bother at all. Sorry it took a little longer. What’s up?”
“Um, well…this is probably nothing, but I got a call a little while ago, and I’m not really sure what to make of it.”
I’m instantly alert.
“What call?”
“It was weird…some guy named Henry Bennett—he said he was a lawyer from Seattle—told me he had a client who was interested in buying this property.”
One thing I’ve learned, after years in law enforcement, is there is no such thing as coincidence. Just finding out the quarry was sold this morning, and now someone is randomly expressing an interest in Dana’s neighboring property is sending off alarm bells.
“Who’s the client?”
“I have no idea. He didn’t say.”
“What did he say exactly?” I prompt, even as I’m typing the name Bennett, attorney, and Seattle into the search bar.
Dana gives me a blow-by-blow of the conversation, which doesn’t do much to alleviate my alarm. The questions she raises are valid, and I wouldn’t mind a conversation with this Bennett myself to get some of them answered.
My search brings up a surprisingly large number of Henry Bennetts who are attorneys, but only one currently licensed in Washington State. I jot down the name and number of the firm he works for.
