Corruption Among the Ranks

Romero's thoughts race as he paces back and forth across the burgundy rug. "Answer your phone, Antonio. Answer your damn phone," he screams as he continues to stomp across the carpeted floor. Thanks to Antonio's screw-up, Romero knows it's only a matter of time before the police come pounding on his door. I've worked so hard to build an empire. Decades of wheeling and dealing just to get ahead, and soon, everything I've worked so hard for will be gone, thanks to him, he thinks, admiring the grand decor.

Romero decorated his home to reflect his mother country, Italy, a reminder of his humble beginnings and how far he's come, with each expensive piece representing a significant event in his life. My kingdom is shattered into runes overnight thanks to that good-for-nothing SOB. His thoughts are interrupted when the call connects. "Antonio, Romero here. The police found the file on her computer. A device I specifically instructed you to retrieve. Did I not?"

"Yes, sir, but when I returned to get it.."

"I don't want to hear your lame excuses. I've heard enough of them over the past twenty-odd years. Romero runs his fingers through his thick mop of hair and continues, "You've been nothing but a screw-up, a let-down from day one. So why I thought, even for a second, you could do this is beyond me. Maybe I was hoping you'd do something right for a change. I took pity on you as a child, and it's the same pity that kept you on my team despite your numerous mistakes."

Fury builds inside him. Antonio swerves to the shoulder of the road. He Slams on the brakes, death grips the phone, and yells, "I've done a lot for you through the years, Romero, whether you want to admit it or not. I saved your pompous ass from going to prison dozens of times. What about the death threats you received last year, hmm? Who took care of those assholes for you, hid a few bodies for you, no questions asked? Who cooked the books to save your sorry ass from the IRS? Me, Romero, me. I'm the one who did all of that for you. So, the way I see it, you would be rotting in prison if it wasn't for me. So you can take that little pity speech of yours and shove it up your ass," Antino says, shaking with rage. "And another thing, Romero, since I'm no longer there save your ass, I'd advise you to watch your back. 

"Are you threatening me, boy?"

"It's not a threat. It's a fact. You've treated your workers like shit, burnt a lot of bridges, too, and someday soon, it will all come back and get you."Hanging up, Antonio throws his phone on the seat. That man has some nerve, treating me this way after everything I've done for him. He slams his fists on the steering wheel again and again to release his pent-up rage. "Twenty-five years of my life down the drain." He smacks the wheel again and again. A strange voice echoes through the car; Antonio jumps and then realizes what it is. "Damn, phone." He picks it up to find Abby isn't too far away. She's the least of my worries now. He thinks, tossing the phone in the seat. Antonio starts to turn around when another thought comes to mind. "No, the bitch caused this mess, so she should have to pay."

***

The station has quickly become a chaotic mess. Hoards of people shuffle around. Patrol hustles their suspects about. Desk sergeants are talking above each other. A disgruntled perp declares their innocence on their way to booking. The combined commotions have caused the noises to reach the ear-shattering range. Rachel and her detectives are working on a few leads from the digital file. They wanted to ensure they had all their ducks in a row before presenting it to the DA.

Business as usual, the sergeant sighs, wishing she and her detectives had an office away from the daily grind. The captain and numerous colleagues before him have requested funds for an upgrade, only to be told the city's budget can't comply with their request.

Jerry glances up from his desk. "This could be the biggest bust in Berryville history."

Rachel smiles, "It's showing a lot of promise, Jerr."

He admires the plaques neatly arranged along the hall wall. "Wouldn't it be great if our pictures were on the Hall of Fame?" A dream of his since he first began.

"I wouldn't have this opportunity if I'd taken my stepmom's advice."

A perplexed look crosses his face. "What did Bonnie say?"

"She tried to convince me that the job wasn't for me. She said I'd do better in a more controlled, less risky environment. Of course, my biological mom and Emma jumped in on her bandwagon. Said I should return to nursing where I'm safe."

Jerry tilts his head to the side."When was this?"

"The year I kept getting hurt on the job."

"Can you be more specific?" Jerry chuckles and then adds, "Because I can't recall a year you haven't been hurt at least a dozen times." 

"You make me sound like a klutz." 

"You said it; I didn't." A few of her more recent accidents cross Jerry's mind. "But now you mention it..." 

She straightens her uniform and says, "I may not be the most graceful person on the planet...."

"That's the understatement of the year." Jerry chuckles. He glances over to find Kirk trying hard not to laugh.

She glares at her detectives. "I always manage to catch the perp, unlike some slackers I know."

"I let you so you'll look good for your dad." Her father, Max Webb, is their District Attorney.

She pats the detective on the back. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, Jerry. Whatever helps you sleep."

He laughs. "I just found something interesting."

Rachel glances at his computer to find a spreadsheet pulled up on the screen. "Where's this from?"

"His bar. According to Romero's records, it's doing good, actually too good considering its location and all."

"What kind of profit is he showing?"

"His nightly deposits average around two thousand on weekdays and double that on the weekends. I might believe it if it was in a big city in the middle of town, but it's not. In fact, every time I go past it, I might see six, maybe seven cars in the drive. I figure half of them are employees."

"Emma and I had a drink there a couple of weekends ago, and there's just a handful of patrons at the bar when we walked in, and only a couple more showed up while we were there." 

Kirk looks up from his computer. "I just checked into some of his off-shore businesses, and most of them are shell companies, but his bank records show monthly deposits." Kirk has been with the department for over fourteen years, ten in the forensic and four as a beat cop. His vast knowledge makes him an asset to the team. 

"So, Romero is using the bar and the offshore companies to launder dirty money."

"Probably profits from drugs."

Keep digging; see what else you can find. I'll run the list of names through the system." She grabs a printed list off her desk and gets to work. A few minutes later, Rachel glances up with a terrified expression. "You're not going to like this, guys."

"What's wrong, sergeant?"

"Some of these people are elected officials." Rachel continues to scan the list. "A few we work with every day."

Jerry scratches the stubble on his face. "Really?"

"We might cause an all-out war if we continue this investigation."

"What do you want to do?"

Rachel pushes away from her desk. "I think we should tell the captain what we've found and let him decide."