“Can you open it?”
“I’ve got a crowbar coming.”
In a few minutes another tech brought in a crowbar and some other tools. They got to work.
“I think you’re right,” Ben said to Lainie. They stood close together in the doorway while the sounds of banging and prying emanated from the bathroom.
“About what?”
“If Stan had been the one here cleaning out his office, he would not have missed this safe.”
“Besides that, he would have to be an absolute moron to kill a woman in his own office.”
Ben leaned against the wall, a thoughtful expression on his face. “It’s all staged. Someone ransacked the office and killed Abbott to make itappear as if Stan had done it. She had no ID, and her purse is gone, leading me to believe that whoever killed her took it.” He nodded to the floor safe. “Maybe some of the answers we want will be in there.”
It took about ten minutes, but the techs got the safe open. Shea pulled out three manila envelopes: two were rather thick, one was thin. He took them into the office and set them on the desk.
The first one he opened was filled with cash, bundles of hundred-dollar bills.
“Wow.” Lainie whistled.
The next one was filled with passports and IDs.
Shea opened one. “Picture is of Stan Moffit, under the name Clinton White.” He opened another. “This one is a Canadian passport, Stan with another name. And here we have a woman.” He handed the passport to Ben.
“This is Crystal Benton with the name Martha White.”
Shea pulled out all the IDs. After he finished opening all of them, six were for Stan, six were for Benton, different names, various nationalities.
Ben studied the one in his hand. “These are professionally done. It would fool me. I now have a list of Benton’s aliases to check with the flight logs. She probably used one of these names to return from Hawaii.”
“What’s in the last envelope?” Lainie asked.
Shea opened it and leafed through the papers. “Bank records, a lot of money in a foreign bank. Moffit and Benton set themselves up with offshore accounts.” He looked up from the papers. “I’m not an accountant, but if I’m reading this right, Benton and Moffit were stealing from the big boss. All of this might lead straight to Vine.”
Lainie felt lightheaded. It was so surreal. It didn’t line up with the selfish, self-absorbed person she hated seeing across the dinner table. How was Evie so fooled?
“We need to work together on this,” Ben said. “I’m calling my supervisor. We’ll get a team down here as well.” He stepped aside and made the phone call.
Shea jutted his chin. “Moffit’s our guy. Maybe he didn’t kill that woman in there, but I’ll bet he knows who did. I’m putting out a BOLO for him as well. We’ll find them both and sort all of this out.”
Ben finished his call. “Team is on the way. We have a couple of forensic accountants. They can figure out all that paperwork. If Moffit and Benton were trying to pull something over on the boss, they should wish that we find them first. Vine won’t wait for explanations.”
“No turf war? My arrest?” Shea asked.
“I just want the man in jail.”
Shea nodded. “Okay, I’ll call my boss.” He walked off and Ben turned to Lainie.
The expression on his face troubled her. Despite what he’d said, she feared a turf war when things got going. She’d seen egos at work when there were jurisdictional battles. “What’s the matter? You don’t think Shea will cooperate?”
“It’s not that. We’re missing something,” Ben said. “Things have moved along too quickly.”
“I don’t agree. Things are not moving fast enough. I’m no closer to finding Evie than I was on the beach in Hawaii.”
There was such tender understanding in Ben’s eyes it took her breath away.
“This has to be a lot for you to take in.” He touched her elbow. “I can’t imagine; you haven’t even buried her yet.”
