Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

“ W hat’s the deal with the suitcase?” Reese asked as they rushed into the station.

“It was tucked away under Alex Sheridan’s apartment floorboards,” Sam said, his mind already sifting through the possibilities of what the case could hold. “Lucy alerted us to it.”

“Good girl.” Reese petted Lucy, who wagged her tail in excitement.

“We think the key we found in his pocket might open it,” Jo said as they all hurried into the squad room.

“I’ll go grab it from the evidence room.” Reese headed toward the closet in which they kept evidence for active cases. Once the cases were closed or inactive, they transferred evidence to a bigger facility in another town.

Kevin placed the suitcase on the nearest desk with a thud, and they all gathered around.

“Did I hear you say you found it under the floor?” Wyatt got up from his desk and joined them.

“Yep.” Jo turned to him. “We also got his computer for you to sift through. It’s still out in the Tahoe.”

Major hopped onto the deck, sniffing around the suitcase as if doing his own investigation. His sleek black fur looked silky, like he’d just been brushed. Probably Reese , Sam thought.

“Looks like Major knows enough not to touch the suitcase,” Kevin said. “Wouldn’t want him to mess up any prints.”

Lucy came over to the side of the desk and sniffed the lock, too, her nose only a few centimeters from Major’s. Sam braced for a fight, but the two animals simply sniffed and then exchanged some sort of look. Were they communicating? Sam had no idea, but at least they weren’t battling each other.

“Got it!” Reese came running into the room, and her gloved hand pressed the key into Sam’s gloved hand.

Sam put the key in the lock.

Click!

Sam opened the suitcase, and everyone peered inside.

“What the…” Jo gasped.

“Holy smokes,” Wyatt said.

Reese let out a low whistle.

“Well, maybe that explains how Alex could afford the expensive assisted living for his grandfather,” Kevin said.

“And possibly why someone would want to kill him,” Sam said.

Nestled in the worn blue lining of the suitcase were huge stacks of hundred-dollar bills.

“That’s a lot of cash,” Reese said.

Kevin put on gloves and grabbed a stack of bills and rifled through them. “All hundreds. This stack alone is ten grand.”

“How many stacks do you think are in there?” Jo asked.

Wyatt tilted his head, scrutinizing the suitcase. “I’d estimate around fifty stacks. Maybe more.”

Reese let out another whistle. “Fifty stacks of hundred-dollar bills? That’s...” She trailed off, clearly doing some mental math.

“Five million,” Wyatt supplied. “If there are fifty stacks of hundred-dollar bills, with one hundred bills per stack, that’s fifty thousand bills. At one hundred dollars each, that’s five million dollars.”

“Over five mil in cash just casually stashed under the floorboards,” Kevin murmured in disbelief. “What was Alex Sheridan up to?”

“And why was it in this old suitcase?” Jo asked.

Sam nodded. “Good questions. We need to trace the origins of this money before we jump to any conclusions. Wyatt, run the serial numbers on some of these bills and see if anything pops up.”

Wyatt nodded, grabbing a stack and heading to his computer. The others watched in tense silence as Wyatt typed rapidly, cross-referencing the serial numbers against law enforcement databases.

After a few minutes, Wyatt swiveled his chair around. “Well, this is interesting. I traced one of the hundreds back to a bank robbery at the old White Rock Bank and Trust fifty years ago. The corner branch on Main that’s now a florist.”

Jo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “A fifty-year-old bank heist? Alex Sheridan wasn’t even born yet.”

Kevin’s left brow quirked up. “Frank Milson was.”

“Is there a record of how much was stolen from that bank?” Sam asked. “I don’t remember anyone ever talking about it, but that was way before my time.”

Wyatt nodded. “Yup. The reports show a little over ten million dollars was taken. The robbers were never caught, and only a fraction of the cash was ever recovered.”

Kevin shook his head. “And now, all these years later, we find some of the missing money hidden under the floorboards of Alex Sheridan’s apartment. This case just got very interesting.”

“You can say that again.” Sam gestured to the money. “Reese, log this into evidence. Wyatt, contact the archives and pull the case files on that old White Rock Bank robbery. We need more details. I want to know everything about that heist and who was involved.”

“Did you say the White Rock Bank robbery? That was one of my old cases,” Harry Woolsten said, appearing behind them.

Lucy bounded over to Harry, tail wagging. He chuckled and gave her a good scratch behind the ears.

“Hey there, girl,” Harry said. He looked up at the others. “That bank job was one of the biggest cases we ever had around these parts. Strange, since heists like that usually happen in the big city, where there’s more money to grab. But I suppose the appeal to those thieves was that our small-town force wouldn’t have the resources to catch them.”

Sam tilted his head. “Really? I never heard anything about it.”

“The hubbub had died down years before you were old enough to pay attention to these things. It was a real mess, though,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Those crooks created one heck of a distraction by setting off an explosion near the records room next to the vault in the bank. Blew the whole thing to smithereens.”

“An explosion as a distraction, huh?” Kevin murmured. “Clever tactic.”

“Yup. Blew the vault wide open for ’em too,” Harry continued. “Then, the masked thieves made their escape on a helicopter that landed right on the roof! Darndest thing. Never did find that chopper or those crooks.”

“And now, fifty years later, we’ve got a suitcase full of cash from that robbery right here.” Sam gestured to the money lined up on the desk.

Harry whistled appreciatively. “Well, ain’t that something. My first big case, coming back around full circle.”

“You must have been new to the force. Must have been tough handling such a major crime,” Kevin said.

“You bet it was. I was just in my late twenties. My boss was a real piece of work too. Guy named Dominic Hartman,” Harry said, shaking his head. “He and I did not see eye to eye, I’ll tell ya that much. Always butting heads. In my opinion, Hartman did a lousy job investigating that case.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. Rushed through everything, didn’t follow up on leads. Just wanted it wrapped up as quick as he could,” Harry said. “In fact, we did end up finding a duffel bag of the stolen cash a few months later. It was in the woods. Looked like it had fallen out of that escape copter or something. But ol’ Hartman didn’t think it was worth the effort to keep digging.”

Kevin and Jo shared a look. “Interesting,” Kevin said. “Maybe there’s more to uncover here after all this time.”

“Could be.” Harry nodded. “Sure wish I’d handled things differently back then. But you know how it is, being the new guy. Didn’t have much choice but to go along with the boss.”

“Well, maybe we can use your help now,” Sam said. “Reese, get Harry copies of those old case files on the heist. Let’s see if his years of experience shed any light on this.”

“You got it, Chief,” Reese said, already heading off.

The look of excitement on Harry’s face brightened Sam’s mood. He wouldn’t have Harry go out in the field or get into danger, not after what had happened before, but there was no harm in letting the old guy read over some files. Maybe Harry would remember something important. Sam had a soft spot for Harry, who had been the chief of police before him, and loved seeing the gleam in his eye when Sam asked him to consult on cases.

Sam clapped Harry on the back and headed to his office. He needed some thinking time to come up with a plan. Was the money the thing that had gotten Alex killed, or was that just a coincidence? And if it was the money, why hadn’t the killer taken it?