Clay listened to the comments coming from the others, his mind racing through possibilities. “I can see how a man like Jerry would want more power and money coming from the cartels, especially if he feels like his career is subservient to the congressman. What I can’t figure out is if he’s the only one in it or if the congressman is part of their drug smuggling. And if Jerry is in bed with the Minotaurs, I can’t figure out what he’s doing with a local indie band. That really doesn’t make any sense to me.”
“You, like a good investigator, hate unanswered questions,” Mace said.
He held his boss’ gaze, then nodded his agreement.
“Levi, keep working with the FBI to see if they have anything on the drugs that were found and how they think they’re being moved. There’s more going into the pipeline than are in some of the small boats in the area. Clay, take a deeper look at the band. See if you can dig up more of a connection between Steven and Jerry.”
“I appreciate that, Mace.” He hesitated for a few seconds, then added, “I’d like to follow the band to Ottawa. On my own time, of course—”
“No, you’ll do it on company time.” Before he had a chance to protest, Mace continued, “Look, Clay, this is all part of our investigation and Jerry Kincaid. So, you keep up with time, travel, and expenses, and get them turned into Sylvie. No argument. And let’s face it, most of us have worked on cases where we needed LSI resources to help with something that one of our women was involved in. We all jumped in to do that, no questions asked. This is the same. We know that Christina is not part of this investigation, but she’s on the periphery. We all want to make sure she’s safe as well as find out what the fuck Jerry Kincaid is up to.”
He let out an audible sigh, relief flooding him. Nodding again, he offered his thanks.
Mace looked around. “Who’s going with him?”
Every Keeper in the room shouted their acquiescence. Eyes wide, Clay grinned.
“Just as I thought,” Mace chuckled. “Drew, you and Blay have to finish the security job. Josh, we’ll need you here, especially if they can get monitoring equipment near the Minotaurs and Steven. Tate, Rank, and Walker are needed for the Simmons case they just started on. Levi is here with the FBI part of this investigation. Blake is in the middle of the Westmoreland security detail.”
“Well, damn, boys. Guess that means I’m heading to Canada,” Cobb laughed, throwing his palm up for a high-five with Clay.
Glad to be planning and not just worrying, Clay nodded. “Let’s get to it.”
While Cobb talked to Babs to arrange their travel, Clay settled at the computer station next to Josh. “I want to see if I can follow a money trail with the band. Are you still searching on Jerry?”
“Yes, but he’s slippery. I’m digging through his finances. Hell, I’m even digging through the congressman’s finances. I’m also looking at the campaign finances, but I’m not sure what I’ll find out there. Those have to go through political committees, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t wrongdoing. I’ve also got Bray looking into Jerry’s friendships and political associates. You want to take on the band members, go for it.”
Twisting around, he began tapping on the keyboard, beginning with basic information on Duncan Byrne, Michael Kelley, James Iversen, and Steven McPherson. All four had extensive social media accounts, both individually and under the band’s name. Searching through those gave evidence they exhibited no restraint when it came to posting drunk pictures, bar life after their band’s gigs, or a multitude of women vying for the camera while hanging on to the men. Going back several years, he discerned that Michael and Jamie had met in high school, both part of a youth bagpipe band. It appeared Duncan had been playing percussion since he was very young. Steven had been a singer in a number of garage bands from the time he was a teenager, finally pulling the other three together. Not finding any evidence of Jerry, he began digging deeper.
Agreeing with Cobb’s advice to look at the money, he discovered Mike and Jamie with very modest bank accounts. Mike’s full-time job was working in the supply distribution department of a local company and was recently promoted to manager. Jamie was employed as a master mechanic. Duncan worked part-time in a restaurant, but interestingly enough, had more money in the bank than either Mike or Jamie. Cash deposits. Not an excessive amount at any one time, but the frequency indicated it was more than just earned tips. And the total was adding up.
Duncan had already landed on Clay’s suspicion list, now justifiably. Checking Steven’s account, he could see that he not only had a comfortable savings account, but he also was in charge of the band’s money. Not surprisingly, he worked for a local accounting firm as a billing assistant. His paycheck was slightly higher than either Mike’s or Jamie’s but not enough to account for the extra money in his account. Now curious to see how he was handling the books for the band, Clay dug deeper.
An hour later, a frustrated groan left his lips as he leaned back in his chair. Seeing Josh’s gaze land on him, he twisted around to see the remaining Keepers’ attention on him as well.
“Steven McPherson, the vocalist and leader for Amhrán M'anama, works as a billing assistant in an accounting firm. He’s also handling the books for the band, and they’re a fuckin’ mess.”
“Well, he’s an assistant, not an accountant,” Walker said.
Sylvie looked over at the group and said, “Yes, but he works for an accounting firm. He would easily be able to get help with the band’s books. He could probably even get a discount or have one of the accountants help on the side.”
“Exactly,” Clay said. “It makes me wonder what he’s hiding.”
“Or what money might be laundered through the band.”
At that statement, everyone looked toward Sylvie. She glanced at Mace, then smiled and shrugged. “Just a thought,” she added in a singsong voice.
“Shit, I never thought about that,” Clay said, his words being echoed by the others. Turning back to his computer, he continued to maneuver through the financial records. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he twisted his head around and looked up.
“I spent some time going through financial records in my former job,” Sylvie said. “Granted, I’m not an accountant and certainly wouldn’t be able to look through a multimillion-dollar corporation’s finances. But if you want some help looking through what Steven is keeping on the band, I’ll be glad to do that.”
Thanking her, he shot a look toward Mace, gaining a nod. Looking back up toward Sylvie, he said, “Looks like the boss says it’s okay, so I’ll take all the help I can get.”
Laughing, she patted his shoulder and pulled the records he’d sent to the printer. Hearing a sigh of frustration coming from Walker, he looked across the room. “This must be the day for all of us to run into roadblocks.”
“I’ve been scanning the security screen on the Bennett estate, paying particular attention to the boathouse. Other than a few friends coming and going, all easily identifiable, there is nothing untoward happening at the boathouse. Jerry occasionally goes in empty-handed and comes out empty-handed. But he doesn’t do that very often. So far, the Bennetts haven’t used the boathouse.”