“I used to be on your side of this conversation.”
“I know.”
“Then you know I’m listening.”
“I know people with your background are usually the worst listeners.”
Celeste smiled properly that time.
The five thousand dollars was documented by investigators.
The exchange occurred inside Ward’s Market near closing time.
Voss came alone.
That surprised Celeste.
It also told Ruiz something.
The lieutenant no longer believed resistance was possible.
Celeste placed the envelope on the counter.
Voss picked it up.
Counted.
“You see?”
He smiled.
“Much easier.”
Celeste said:
“This guarantees no problems?”
“As long as you stay current.”
“Current?”
“This isn’t a one-time arrangement.”
She looked at him.
“You said five thousand.”
“That was entry.”
“How often?”
Voss laughed.
“Depends how well business treats you.”
Celeste let silence pass.
Then:
“And nobody can interfere with this?”
“With what?”
“You collecting from businesses.”
Voss’s eyes sharpened.
“Choose your words.”
Celeste held his gaze.
“You know what I’m asking.”
He tucked the envelope inside his jacket.
“No one can touch me.”
“Are you certain?”
Voss smiled.
“Lady, I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been selling canned beans.”
He walked out.
Ruiz heard everything.
Within the next forty-eight hours, investigators watched the money move.
Not magically.
Not every bill entered a bank.
Some cash remained cash.
But enough of the financial picture developed to support a broader case.
A search warrant for Blue Sentinel’s business records produced invoices that appeared to describe services never performed.
Records connected the company to Voss.
Dane.
Ellison.
Then another name appeared.
Police Chief Warren Halbrook.
Halbrook was sixty-two.
Chief for nine years.
Former patrol officer.
Popular with local officials because violent crime remained low and his department rarely generated headlines.
His personal finances initially looked ordinary.
Then forensic accountants found a lakeside cabin owned by an LLC.
The LLC belonged to a trust.
The trust’s administrator was Halbrook’s brother.
Payments on the property originated partly from Blue Sentinel.
Ruiz stared at the flow chart on the wall.
“Now we have leadership.”
Reeves said:
“Or we have a relative doing business.”
“Keep digging.”
They did.
Text messages obtained under warrant revealed Voss discussing “monthly neighborhood totals” with Dane.
Ellison sent messages warning Voss when certain complainants contacted internal affairs.
One message from Ellison read:
BELL CAME IN. VERY UPSET. I CLOSED IT. GIVE HIM A WEEK BEFORE YOU VISIT.
Curtis Bell had been right.
His complaint had been handed directly back to the man he accused.
Another message:
WARD STILL HOLDING OUT?
Voss:
TOMORROW.
Ellison:
DON’T GET CUTE. FEDERAL PEOPLE USE THAT STORE SOMETIMES.
Voss:
OLD LADY SELLS COFFEE. RELAX.
Ruiz read it twice.
Then said:
“He had a warning.”
Reeves shook his head.
“He didn’t understand the warning.”
The investigation widened.
Not every officer was involved.
That mattered.
A few had suspected.
Some had noticed unexplained behavior.
One detective had transferred divisions after confronting Voss about businesses being visited off the books.
A patrol officer had documented a complaint that Ellison later removed from the system.
Two rookies genuinely knew nothing.
Mercer knew more than he wanted to admit.