He was, but I doubt we were thinking the same thing.
“Lyn, do you want to bring CJ here?” I knew I’d feel better. CJ would be safe behind the walls of the estate.
Lyn nodded. “Clarke already left to pick CJ up.”
That would explain why I hadn’t seen Clarke.
“Should we call Sam and tell him to bring Angelo and Cole here?” I wanted all the people I cared about in the same place where I knew they’d be safe. I couldn’t stand the idea of a single one of them being hurt.
“They are probably already on their way here, Lany,” Sal stated. “When I called everyone in, he’d know there was a problem.”
I hoped he was right.
“Sirs,” Brant said as he suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Commissioner Harris is at the gate.”
“He’s on the approved list,” I pointed out.
“Yes, sir,” Brant replied. “I simply wanted to inform you that he was here.”
“Oh, well, show him in when he gets to the door.”
Brant gave a single nod before turning and walking away.
I glanced at Sal again. “Did you inform Uncle Jerry that we have a situation here?” The thought of Sal leaving to go out on a raid chilled me to the bone.
“He knows. He was going to get the paperwork on Carbonados, remember?” Sal replied. “Maybe he has those autopsy reports we wanted Skip to go through.”
Right, I had forgotten about that.
Apparently, I was more frazzled than I thought.
“Hey, guys,” Lyn called out. “I think I might have something here.”
Sal and I both rushed over to his side.
“I was looking at some surveillance from that drug house where Lany was undercover, and I discovered that the same car parks in the alley between that building and the one next to it once a week, same time every week.”
“Okay, and what’s so unusual about that?” I asked.
“That’s a Mercedes Benz S-Class. It sells for about two hundred thousand dollars.” Lyn pointed to the silver vehicle on his screen. “A car like that in that neighborhood? The tires alone are worth more than most people’s monthly income. So, why has it been going to the same place at the same time every week for over six months?”
Okay, that was unusual.
And why would someone own a car that expensive? Even dismissing the neighborhood, that was insane. Two hundred thousand dollars for a car? My entire family could live on that for a year.
“Can you get the plate number?” Sal asked. “Maybe we can track it.”
“The angle is all wrong,” Lyn replied. “I’m hunting through nearby businesses and traffic cams to see if I can find another video surveillance that might have a better angle.”
“Keep at it,” Sal directed. “I want to know who owns that car.”
I glanced up when someone walked into the room. “Uncle Jerry.” I frowned at the other man. “Detective Sparks.”
The man gave me a barely polite nod. “Mr. Delvecchio.”
“Did you bring the autopsy reports?” Sal asked.
Jerry nodded as he handed a large folder over. “Is Skip here yet?”
