Page 75 of Trace of Doubt
“Name?”
“Never heard it.”
“How does the big boss make money?”
Hanson glanced away, and I gave him time to think before I spoke again. “I need more for the judge to look favorably on your charges. Attempted murder and an attack on a federal agent will keep you locked up a long time.”
“Money laundering and whatever else is illegal. The big boss stays behind the scenes. I can give you Chandler’s number.”
I grabbed a pen and paper, and Nick rattled off numbers. “Thisis progress, unless the number’s no good.” I sent the number to the FIG and leaned back in my chair to get more comfortable with my throbbing leg.
“What do you know about an attack on another agent and Ms. Pearce?”
“No clue.”
“Where do Chandler and his boss base their operation?”
“Miami. I heard the big boss has overseas connections.” He shook his head. “I don’t know anything else. Neither do I know why they want the Pearce woman dead.”
45
SHELBY
Late Monday night, walking the dark road from the bus stop in Valleysburg to home was safer than being with Aaron and Isaac. In the stillness with the peaceful sound of nocturnal creatures, I longed for the comforts of my haven. I also wanted to get back to work. No matter what I encountered there or in the days to come, I planned to fight whoever stalked me. Even if it was Dad. Waiting for something bad to happen made the struggle with depression harder.
“Impossible,” I whispered to no one but myself.
My thoughts trailed to the times Dad, Travis, and I took camping and hiking trips to Colorado. Neither Mom nor Marissa enjoyed any part of it, and that was okay. We’d climb a hilly path, and Travis and I would softly harmonize whatever tune hit us, and sometimes Dad chimed in with his deep voice. I missed those special moments.
In my cabin, instead of sleeping with one eye open, I quickly drifted into bliss. Not sure the Second Coming could have wakened me unless an angel blew a trumpet in my ear.
Over coffee late Tuesday morning and while fashioning jewelry, my burner phone rang with an unrecognizable number. A pinch of apprehension hit me. What if Mom had passed? Or had Aaron taken a turn for the worse?
“Shelby, it’s Marissa. Are you free to talk?” Her frantic tone alarmed me.
“Is Mom—?”
“No. She hasn’t long, but she’s still alive.” She sighed. “I need to see you in person.”
“Out of the question. It’s too dangerous.”
Marissa sobbed. “Please, I must talk to you before anything else happens.”
“Calm yourself and tell me what’s going on.”
“Aria and I have been threatened.”
I swallowed the panic. “Start at the beginning.”
“I received a call at the bakery yesterday morning. A muffled voice told me to find out where you hid the $500K. The person warned me about going to the FBI or Aria and I would regret it. I know you have no idea where the money is or even who took it, but what am I to do?”
The stalker had reached his desperation stage. “Marissa, you have no choice but to go to the FBI.”
She gasped. “It’s too complicated. There’s more. Dad told me Denton and another agent came to the house yesterday morning. A money-laundering operation led to him.”
“No wonder Denton refused to tell me about the trip. Dad would never—” My mind seemed to explode with reasons against Dad’s guilt.
“Shelby, the ones who threatened you, are they after the money too?”
