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“Positive. Sometimes they spoke in the back here. Or at the pastry shop, Divine Treats. Even the library. Haley was excited about it. Not just the clandestine nature, but it seemed like she might actually get something on Seth.”
But why would Aubrey lie?
It was getting harder to figure out who was lying and who was telling the truth.
“How many times did they meet?” Charlie asked.
Rafe shrugged. “I have no idea. After her husband’s violent warning, I cut ties with Haley. I know she needed me, and I feel bad about doing it, abandoning her, but I felt like I had no other choice.”
The look in his eye was familiar.
Charlie was doing everything in her power to push beyond the crushing sense of failure, but it was rooted deep. The only thing that would ease the mounting pressure was getting answers to her questions.
Chapter Seven
Holding a bag of pastries from Divine Treats, Brian knocked on the office door of assistant district attorney, Melanie Merritt.
She looked up from a stack of papers on her desk, her gaze bouncing from his face to the white paper bag. She groaned. “I told you to stop bribing me for favors. My waistline can’t afford it.”
With a chuckle, he strode in and removed his hat.
Melanie was savvy, smart, sophisticated and easy on the eyes. The kind of workaholic who only took a break to eat, sleep and exercise.
“Who are you trying to kid?” He placed the bag in the center of her desk. “You’re more fit than I am. Besides, you probably didn’t even have lunch.”Busywas the woman’s middle name.
A twinge of guilt coursed through him for imposing on her.
Mel frowned. “Got me there. I haven’t had anything to eat since breakfast. Unless you count my steady stream of coffee.”
“I do not. Can’t subsist off caffeine.”
“Says who?” Opening the bag, she peered inside and melted at the sight and smell. “My favorite.”
A chicken, spinach and artichoke puff pastry tart. The last time she had spent countless hours helping the task force on a case, he noticed how much she enjoyed them.
“I even had them heat it up for you,” he said.
“You’re going to make some lucky woman very happy one day.”
He was working on it. “Can you spare a few minutes?”
“You’ve come bearing gifts. How can I say no?” She gestured for him to sit.
“I’m working a missing person case, trying to piece things together. A possible suspect was seen at a house.” He gave her the address and she made a note. “Tried to find out who owns the place. Got the name of an offshore limited liability company. NHB, LLC. I thought it would be simple to see who was behind it.” The Corporate Transparency Act was designed to prevent true anonymity. The CTA maintained a registry of actual owners that was only available to law enforcement, not to the public. “When I looked them up in the database, an offshore holding company was listed.”
“Well, the CTA only requires all US registered corporations, LLCs and similar entities to report beneficial ownership.”
“So, it’s foreign owned?”
“Maybe. Maybe not.” She leaned back in her chair. “There are loopholes for both. A beneficial owner is one who owns at least a twenty-five percent equity stake. Say there were five individuals, if each owned twenty percent, they could get around the requirement. Another way is to bury their identities in layers. One offshore LLC behind another and then a holding company after that. Either way, it took someone with legal expertise, who was extremely well-versed in navigating the cracks in the system to do it.”
“How do I find out who owns it?”
“Without a subpoena?” she asked.
He nodded. “For now. It’s possible a dirty cop is involved. I need this to stay quiet.”
“That’s going to be tricky. It’ll also take time. But I can look into for you.”
