2019-10-20 - Sorting through evidence

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: Hey

(TXT to Cassidy) Ruiz: What

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: I have some boxes for you.

(TXT to Cassidy) Ruiz: Fine, I'll bite. boxes of what?

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: Finance records, receipts and ledgers of the Krugers and Sea View Suites. Most of it is in Thai but decipherable just the same.

(TXT to Cassidy) Ruiz: I'm going to need a translator. I don't speak Thai

(TXT to Cassidy) Ruiz: Anyway, how'd you get your hands on that?

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: How do you think I did it? 👄( . )( . )

(TXT to Cassidy) Ruiz: I can't tell if that's an invitation or an answer

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: you wish Rico Suave. I'd rather cowgirl on the back of a frightened porcupine.

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: jfc. it's called a subpeona. have you ever been a part of an investigation before? Anyway. Where should I dump these?

(TXT to Cassidy) Ruiz: I can assure you I wish nothing of the sort. You can leave them in my office, Ms. Bennet.

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: k

(TXT to Cassidy) Ruiz: Also. I realise other people probably find your ball busting cute. I don't. You can talk shit to me once you know me, and once you know this town. But right now it smacks of someone who thinks she's a lot more clever than she is.

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: gif of a tiny violin

(TXT to Ruiz) Cassidy: Boxes are coming to your office with a little gift. ♥️♥️♥️ We'll go through it. L8r.

---

As promised, Cassidy appears in the station lobby. But that is not her ultimate destination. She is dressed in a gray pants suit with her blazer left open. Her blouse is buttoned a bit shallow at the moment allowing those present to see what tremors present themselves with every confident stride she makes.

She is tailed by two uniformed police men, each carrying two hefty brown cardboard boxes. The trio make their way into Ruiz's office where the boxes are deposited. "Thanks boys," she tells the officers with a smile and a wink.

As soon as the two box carriers leave, Cassidy shakes her hair back and buttons up tight - blouse and blazer - leaving nothing to sight. She digs out a mirror from her purse and checks her mouth and uses her finger to wipe away a spot of errant lipstick.

"Here they are. As promised."

It's like Charlie never leaves. She's sitting at her desk, feet kicked up on the edge of it and she seems to be reviewing some notes in a file when Cassidy comes in, and there is a brief glance in her direction, a brow lifting upwards just a fraction. She doesn't make assumptions on if what Cassidy brings is related to the Kruger case or not, but it seems like her interest is piqued.

Esme is sitting at her desk, with is connected to Gabe's desk because partners. She mutters something under her breath, tears off the piece of yellow legal pad paper she's been writing on and crumples it up. "I can't figure this out. What is this word?!" She then proceeds to pick up the folded paper she's been looking at and shoves it over at Gabe - pointing to the final blank spot on the jumble. Yep. Police work at it's finest. Her hair is pinned up in a messy bun and she's wearing a black turtleneck sweater and a pair of dress pants. There's a stack of papers and folders on her desk as well something running on her computer. Maybe she's waiting for a search to finish.

"It's -- uh." It may be Gabe's handwriting. Or it might be Esme's. He's not sure. "I think it's 'DNA'? Or some three-letter word." The great homicide detectives, everyone. To his credit, though Gabe is under the weather. Yet he is here anyway. "You know, we need to head over to the Boardwalk to canvass and see if we can find anyone who saw our body get dragged down to the water. That copycat killing."

But then Cassidy is coming through the bullpen with the files and Gabe tosses his head. "Hey, Esme. I think this is on the Kreuger case. You should come sit in on this. Charlie's got the lead, but it's a hell of a case."

There's a lengthy pause after Cassidy speaks. Ruiz is nowhere to be seen in the office.

From under the desk comes a rustle. Then a blonde head. Then the rest of a paramedic pops out from under there. "Hey, Cassidy. How's your supply holding out?" The hell is Sutton even talking about? She's in uniform, which, for her, is a pair of dark blue cargoes, a dark blue tee with the GHFD logo on the chest, and PARAMEDIC across the back so everybody knows. (People still ask her if she's a paramedic anyway.)

She has a pen in one hand, and her phone in the other. What she was doing down there is anyone's guess. No wait, that's not a pen in her hand. A slim tube of capped superglue is tucked into one of her pockets.

"What's in the box?"

There is a very slight parting of Cassidy's red painted lips as the muscles of her brow tighten inward for a classic 'what the fuck?' look. But that look is instantly vanished when the DA looks back over her shoulder to the bullpen and yells.

"GABRIEL?!"

"You know this is actually Charlie's case, right?" asks Gabe as he wanders into the office, arching his brow at Cassidy. He then coughs and turns his head off to the side, into his sleeve, so that he can try not to infect everyone. "Like, I'm helping her, not the other way around?" He pokes his head out to the bullpen to wave at Morgan. "Hey. Charlie. ADA's got boxes, and I'm guessing it's something you're going to want to see."

"Looks like she needs your attention, Gabe." Charlie offers up to the detective, then she snaps the file closed before tossing it onto her desk, dragging her feet down off the edge of it, "If it's about the Kruger case hollar. I'm going to get some coffee. You two want any?" This is addressed towards the other two detectives, Gabriel and Esme.

"It is totally not. It can't be. I don't..." Esme's voice trails off in to more mumbling as she takes the Jumble back and resigns herself to just staring at it for a minute. "Yeah we do. Maybe we can put that on the books for tomorrow. Or," She glances at the time. "Well we could try tonight but I'd rather canvas in the daylight and all that. More people to talk too that way too usually." Then her attention shifts again when Gabriel points out Cassidy walking by with some boxes before she disappears into the office. "I'm always up for listening about cases and stuff, even if they're not currently on the workload." And then she blinks...because Cassidy is shouting towards her partner. Cutting Gabriel a look like, 'The hell did you do?'

A smile is flashed towards Charlie. "I'll take some, thanks."

"Oh. I'm sorry." Cassidy says softly to Gabriel. She takes a step near him and yells right past his ear into the bullpen, "CHARLIE?!"

Sutton drops into the seat at the Captain's desk like she hangs out in here. There's really no other choice. You get caught under a desk with superglue in hand, you act natural. She kicks her legs crossed and pulls open the middle drawer like she came in here looking for a pen.

That quest for coffee gets cut off abruptly, and Charlie redirects herself towards the office where the boxes are. If she's shocked to find Sutton in there she doesn't show it beyond an upwards twitch of her brow before she turns her attention towards Cassidy, "Whatcha got?" She doesn't leap on the boxes like a starving wolf. Barely.

"I told you that in text yesterday," says Gabe with a sigh when Cassidy yells in his ear. That's going to ring later. And not feel good with the rest of the general shittiness that he is carrying around right now. But with Charlie given her due, he just moves off to a wall to see what the heck is going on here.

Sutton, meanwhile, is just given a Look. "Didn't you stop dispatching for us, like, months ago?"

Esme, of course, isn't going to miss this. So she stands up too, near Gabe so she can listen, raising a brow as a not-Ruiz is inhabiting his chair. But she also doesn't comment on it. Instead she whispers to Gabe, "Should I have brought popcorn?"

When Gabe says 'I told you...', Cassidy just bends her arms at her elbows with fingers splayed out and grits her teeth. The slow inward curl of her fingers to create little fists at least shows some restraint and she wordlessly lowers her hands back down.

"These are the victims' financial records and ledgers - personal and for the Sea View Suites," the ADA explains.

"So...Have at..." She waves her hand at the boxes and steps out and away, digging cigarettes out of her purse as she goes.

"Nope, highlighters and your reading glasses." Charlie replies to Esme, but she doesn't actually stop to get either of those things as she heads into the office and towards the boxes, "Pick a box, and start going through things...let's see what we can't unearth in all this."

One box in hand Charlie moves to one corner of the floor, dropping herself down where hopefully no one has put any super glue, to start in on the box.

Sutton gestures with a pen she found, tapping it against her lip as Gabe asks the hard questions. Like didn't she stop dispatching a while ago. "Yup." She idly gnaws on the pen cap. "Why, miss me?" Her brows tic up slightly, dark brows. She was a brunette when she was a dispatcher, hair much longer. She turns her wrist to check the watch face nestled up next to a paracord bracelet, like she's waiting on something. Her radio on her hip is a low burble of chirping and talking. It's a wonder she can even hear what's being said on that thing.

She idly hooks a finger on another drawer, but it pulls forward a millimeter and stops, the lock mechanism is engaged and her finger slips off. Suddenly surrounded by cops and an ADA in an office that isn't even on the Fire side of the building. The blonde sobers when she hears victims and Sea View Suites. Her gaze falls on the boxes. She wasn't the one who transported those bodies, but she's scooped up more than her share of murder victims in the last few months.

"Anybody want a donut?" Sutton rises.

"Ladies first," says Gabe, to Esme, letting her grab one of the boxes before taking one for himself and pulling out the first folder he sees. He's not an accountant or anything, but he's done financial-related homicides before.

At Sutton's question of whether he's missed, Gabe looks up. "I mean, sure? I like the new girl, though. The one from San Fransisco." That is because Gabe, himself, is from San Fransisco. "You at least don't fuck up my scenes when you need to pronounce someone, so I think I like you in the field."

Esme looks entirely too disappointed that there wasn't some kind of mini drama. Poor thing. Real life cop office stuff will never be like how it is on the television. Ohhhh well. She goes and collects a box too and then settles in a spot to start finding things of note.

"Coffee, if you're getting snacks." Charlie glances up towards Sutton, offering her a hopeful smile, and a thankful one. It's all rolled in together, honestly. Then she turns her attention back towards the boxes, digging into the one that she's chosen, "Hopefully this isn't yet another wild goose chase...I'm starting to feel the need for a vacation after this."

"Alas," Sutton sighs. "Everybody always loves the new girl." She grins and breezes out to go pillage the donut supply. Making time with the donut boxes is in within normal operating procedure, and has been for many months. Hanging out alone in de la Vega's office is not. Well. Not that anyone knows about.

"You want that fancy-ass french vanilla syrup, pet?" This is to Charlie, of course. "Sugar freeee." That sing-songy reply comes from around the corner as she goes. If she doesn't have a prompt answer, she might get whimsical in the break room. The supplies in there are limited, so nobody's getting sprinkles in their coffee unless they fall off a donut in her mouth.

As the team sorts through the receipts and book keeping they discover most of it (a lot of it) is in Thai.

"So. I take it that no one here knows Thai?" asks Gabriel as he looks around at the others, arching a brow as he flips through the papers.

"Shit."

Translators take time. Even assuming that the GHPD has someone kicking around that can read it. And if not ...

That's even longer.

"I...don't." Charlie shakes her head at the question, "But someone was able to translate the texts between the daughter and mother. So...I'll look up who handled the translation, and give them a ring." Charlie starts sorting things out, setting all the things that need translation to the side.

"Oh. Good. Glad there's someone we've got." Gabe needs to file that name away, just in case it comes up. He is staring at the numbers on the page, but without knowing the words that go with them, well. He's a bit lost.

"Hey...Gabe.." Charlie starts to set down some papers, lining them up before she presses a finger against the paper, "Toss me a highlighter, please?" She glances up from what she's looking at, "I'm seeing a pattern...whatever the fuck this means I don't know. But I'm pretty sure there's a pattern here in these transaction receipts."

"Yeah?"

Gabe is intrigued. And so he does his part, moving on from staring at the papers to grabbing a highlighter from Ruiz's desk. (Sorry, Ruiz.) And flipping it over towards the lead detective n the case.

"All right. That's something."

Sutton returns a few moments later with some coffees in various mugs — three! She doesn't drink coffee, so it's an up-in-the-air kind of whether or not they're properly done sweetener vs milk and all that business. She puts the coffees down and tosses a box of donuts into the middle of the table. "This looks like the receipts from that bloody good dumpling place in the strip mall." She squints, leaning over, dropping some sprinkles on a paper. Sprinkles all over the desk. "You guys should get a translation app. I have one I use to yell sexually harassing things at French men." Don't... ask.

"Yeah." Charlie grabs the highlighter, starting to highlight the set of characters each time she runs across them, reaching for the coffee when Sutton comes back, offering her a smile until there is the comment about French men, "Seriously?"

There is a shake of her head at that, then she takes a sip from it before carefully setting the cup to the side, "I'm not sure that sexually harassing stuff will be useful. But I'll remember that."

"The one that delivers?" asks Gabe, when Sutton mentions the dumpling place. "Do you know if their soup is any good? I'm thinking I might need to burn out whatever it is I am coming down with." He grabs a tissue off of Ruiz's desk (Sorry, Ruiz!) and then blows his nose into it.

"Damn cold." Sure. Just a cold. Of course.

"It does all kinda of stuff." Sutton says around a mouthful of donut. "I just use if for that, because I..." She shakes her head. "Seriously, it'll do anything." Sutton has weird hobbies, but she is an EMS worker. Life is stressful on the life squad. "Their soup is amazing. Try the coconut chicken." She pulls out her phone and shows them the app. "This one. It's like $6 on the app store."

Click, clack, click, clack. Cassidy's heels meet the epoxy with a quick steady rhythm that any electronica DJ would be proud to sample.

"How's this going?" she asks from the door frame. "Looking at Instagram?" an eyebrow lifts up at Sutton showing everyone her phone.

"We're discussing dumplings, evidently." Charlie is only barely paying attention to things over there, beyond Sutton sexually harassing people via translation apps. "But I've found something that looks like a pattern. Problem is...I don't speak Thai." She lifts her highlighter up, showing it and the work. "But we'll get a translator in for this."

Gabe nods and gestures towards Charlie, when she explains where they are. What she said.

"Can we just Facetime one off fucking Fivrr?" Cassidy asks impatiently. "I don't want to lose another day on this if we can possibly avoid it."

She stares at Sutton. "What the FUCK are you even doing here?"

There's a long pause before Sutton looks up, like she just not realize it was possible Cassidy was talking to her in that tone of bitch. "Suggesting investigative tools since my main squeeze is fucking around in the supply closet or something." She shoves the rest of her donut into her mouth. She gives Cassidy a little up and down, pointedly stopping at the extra undone button.

Sutton's gaze flicks up. "It's a small building. I'll hear about it eventually." She reaches into the box and scores another donut. "If you want to work out your anger issues, I get off at nine."

"We will follow protocol, Miss Bennet." Charlie replies, pushing herself up to her feet, a glance shot towards Sutton for a moment, then she looks towards Cassidy, "I appreciate you unearthing all this information for us, and I can appreciate the fact that you're in a hurry. But you, of all people, should appreciate taking a few extra hours do it right instead of go off half-cocked and get shit thrown out of court. So, if all you're doing is yelling at people, I'm going to suggest you clock out and go have a drink. Otherwise, sit down, shut up, and pitch in."

"That is impossible, Harry! Your main squeeze can not be fucking in the supply closet, because I am right here!" The voice of one Sarah Marie Stevens immediately proceeds her slinging an arm around Sutton's shoulders as she materializes out of the ether, summoned by too much bitchiness and trying to get work done. This does not fly. Not on Stevens watch. "Seriously, though, I'm going to stop having trysts in the janitor's palace if everyone else is doing it, too. It's just not special anymore."

The blonde shrugs out of her leather jacket, removing her arm from the paramedic while her eyes roam the boxes, the papers, none of which means anything to her. It looks like the boring part of detective work. AKA, the things she would find an excuse not to be here for until Chen was done doing them.

Said jacket is tossed over a chair, revealing the navy blue sleeveless tee she wears, not quite a tank top, not far from it. She pulls the expensive, ever-present sunglasses out of her hair and hangs them on the neck of her shirt. She glances at Sutton again, with a frown. Then she points at the medic's lips.

"Where do you keep finding those? I've never seen you without one. Do you have a supplier? Do you have a problem? Do you need help?"

"Okay, nevermind. Important work here. Listen, Morgan, Bennet." Stevens looks at each of the women in turn, holding up a forestalling hand to call for attention and quiet. "The best way to get through this paperwork... is to make the uniforms do it. It's what they're there for."

"It's admissable. They are subpeonaed documents," Cassidy says with a shrug for Charlie, letting the acrimonious tension fall to the floor.

She tracks Suttons eyes and...how did that happen?! She buttons that one back and looks to the paramedic, "Well if you're here..." The ADA points to the boxes.

"I'd love to sit and pitch in but I can't. If I do any investigative work myself it makes me a witness and not a lawyer, soo... Better not." She finger waggles and heads back out.

Charlie rolls her eyes, "Not the fucking point." She mutters as Cassidy leaves, then she drops herself back into her seat, turning her attention back to what she was doing. She seems to be clearly willing to just quietly work through the paper work for however long it needs to be looked into. "Someone want to call the translator that was used for the texts? Get them to head up here as soon as they can."

An extremely large uniformed policeman - Jonesy, who has been working traffic control - comes in. He's got the faintest outline of a tattoo peaking up on his neck. In his hand is a Giant purple Slurpee but he is so huge it looks like a soda can.

"Did someone say Thai? I speak Thai." Slurrrrrp

"Sarah, my secret love." Sutton doesn't miss a beat in greeting the blonde cop. "Have a donut. Translate some Thai in this app everybody's surely buying right now." She shrugs. "I can smell yeasted dough in any government building. It's a gift."

On the desk are spread out several documents from two boxes. Much of it's in Thai. Which apparently nobody but Google Translate speaks in this particular room. "Since I can't read any of this, technically I'm not seeing anything that would fall under eyes only." She wanders toward the door right about when Jonesy walks in. Does she check out his ass on the way past? Yes, yes she does. "Gonna go see if I can find..." She trails off. "... My partner." Her partner is downstairs disinfecting the rig. Shouldn't be hard.

The tension is gone. POOF! It must have gotten Stevens'd. That's the story Sarah is going to stick with. Her arrival diffuses all unpleasantness.

At least the blonde-haird detective has the good graces to pretend she doesn't notice the cleavage getting buttoned up. When the ADA excuses herself from performing any work at all and finger-waggles her way out, Sarah nods at her, eyes narrowing. Respect. That was a classy move. 'Touche,' her nod says. 'You have played well and won the battle. Bravo.'

Blue eyes drop to the pile of papers, an eyebrow raises. She slowwwwwly reaches out a hand to pick up one of the pieces of pulped trees. Its put down really fast again lest possession constitute transference of ownership of this duty from her fingers to her. "That is a very specific, and very frightening gift, my friend." The detective glances at Sutton with a smirk at the rejoinder.

Jonesy enters. Sarah turns and fingerguns at him immediately. "POW!" She gives a little upnod to the paramedic as she goes on her way out, to show that yes, she sees her checking out men's asses. Respect. But also gross. Like men. "You've just been recruited, Jonesy-kins. Your mission, whether you want it or not, is to read shit to Morgan."

"Highlighted are similar repeating characters, don't know shit about what it means." Charlie replies, waving towards the papers she's been highlighting, "I'm all ears." She pushes them in Jonesy's direction before slouching back, "Half this shit is in Thai, and I'm not up for figuring out new fangled translation apps. I'm too old."

Jonesy saunters in, shoulders barely clearing the doorframe. So huge.

Slurrp. The large officer squints as he leans forward. Some condensation drops collecting outside his giant slurpee drips on a couple of the receipts. "Oh! That's a linen purchase." He says what it says in Thai, then translates, "Lucy's linens. White linen cover." He looks at the stack. "That's a lot of linens to buy."

Juuuust as she's heading out of the office, Sutton says, "Maybe one day, over drinks, I'll tell you what else I can smell at 300 yards." Why they ever let her out of the GD firehouse is anyone's guess. "I put a fresh pot on in the break room, loves." And then the blonde is gone down the hall to treat someone else to her brand of between-life-saving 'tude. She had a bad one the other day. Lost two ODs in one call. Apparently it makes her flirt more with the hot blondes. Go fig.

"We're like the same age." Sarah says with a frown, gradually dropping her finger-gun as she turns to offer a frown at Charlie. "Sooooooo fuck you for that. I am not old. I am... delightfully aged and impeccably matured. Did you know that just believing yourself to be over the hill is a contributing factor in premature aging and gray hair? I read that on the internet. Always a reliable source."

As Jonesy waddles in and takes up far, far too much space, Detective Hollywood leans slightly around him to snort a laugh at Sutton's offer/threat. "Just so you know, I prefer to TIBS to the Pourhouse!" Sarah watches the paramedic depart, shaking her head with half a smile as she slaps Jonesy on the arm.

"You ever just meet someone, and know, know with all your heart, that you will totally sleep with them, and that you will also come to regret it mightily? ...No? Yeah, me neither. That's good reading, Big Guy."

The Cali-born policewoman perches a hip on the edge of the desk the receipts are being investigated on, lifting a hand to gesture towards Charlie. "What case are these for, Morgan? That new Thai place running a racketeering ring? That'd be so great, because I haven't had to deal with the OCB in so long I've almost forgotten how colonoscopy's feel."

"Kruger case." Charlie replies with a shake of her head, tapping the highlighter against her hand before she starts looking for dates on the transcripts, checking for any kind of patterns there. "That is a fucking lot of linens...and I get that a motel might go through some sheets."

Everyone knows what happens in motels, right?

"But this seems excessive. You think they might have been filing some other kind of purchase under Lucy's Linens?" Charlie reaches into her pocket to pull up Google, "Which reminds me. I can check The Google." She gives Sarah an amused look at that. "See who the fuck or what the fuck company Lucy's Linens might be from. Right?" God willing.

"Eesh, not that thing again!" Sarah leans away from the receipts like they might be poisonous. "How many times do I have to pass off this case before- Beeeeefore I diligently work it alongside all my best detective friends." She finishes smoothly, sliding a hand in front of her to indicate how smooth that transition was. "Seriously, I have homicides. It's all boring and work. Vice crimes are way more entertaining."

That's what police work is supposed to be, right? Thrilling?

The blonde nods her head, though, watching the enormous slurpee in the uniformed officer's hand to see if he'll make the mistake of setting it down or not. It would be a grave miscalculation on his part if Jonesy does. But she speaks to Charlie while keeping tabs on the beverage.

"Without a doubt they were up to some shady shit. They were in debt to Monaghan, and let's face it, nobody good is in debt to that man. They were paying him off for... something. Their daughter is dating one of his goons. And they both got shot in the face. Pretty easy to jump to the conclusion that they were laundering money or perpetrating some sort of fraud without even having to take a leap."

"But to what end? Far as we've turned up, they didn't seem to be running a Breaking Bad empire of meth smuggling. Maybe moving, or hiding, purchases for our favorite criminal overlord was part of their payment plan?"

Jonesy takes a long suck on that purple slurpee until it gurgles and draws only air. "Okay." The large uniform man saunters out. "Let me know if you need anything else."

"They could have just borrowed money at a high interest to keep themselves afloat because the bank wouldn't lend it to them. I'm not discounting the possibility of the rest, just saying there is a..." Charlie pauses, glancing up from her phone to look at the receipts once more, frowning, "More innocent thing..." She trails off, then she nods, "So, these dates look like they are from after this company goes out of business."

A second highlighter is retrieved, and Charlie goes back to marking things, this time in another color, and a secondary thing. After a few more minutes of this she pushes herself back in her seat, tossing the highlighters on the table, "Mother fucker." She stares at it for a moment before leaning in, checking something, and she finds exactly what she was expecting, "Son of a bitch. So...right, laundering. Amusingly using linens as the cover...fucking think they were clever."

"Sure, there's always the possibility that they were just nice, normal people who got in a little over their head, but were making ends meet. And then a tweaked-out drifter casually slid through town and iced them both because that's what tweaked-out drifters do."

The slurpee being empty is a disheartening sound, to be sure, but Sarah manages not to look too crestfallen as the Big Man saunters off. Instead, she leans over the box of papers and begins to rummage through them somewhat haphazardly, as if she might actually know what she's looking for.

"But c'moooooooooon, Morgan. We've ridden this rodeo. Shitty things usually happen to shitty people. I'd bet my Mercedes on them being dirtier than the ass of a dead dog with fleas. People who innocently borrow money don't set up laundering schemes and, or, ghost purchases."

"Lemme guess, it's last known address was international? Can we match the receipts to any of the known printers? Like at the motel office, or their residence? Because just at a glance, I'm going to lay even money on this being how they were paying Felix back."

"Which again gives us no motive. Which pisses me off."

"Not..." Charlie ponders, tapping her fingers against the table, "I still keep coming back to this guy moving in with the Casino...like, I don't know." She shakes her head showing the screen on her phone for the linen company that's out of business, "All cash...which is odd. Unless they are laundering." She then tosses her phone onto the table.

"This gives Monaghan zero motive for it, if they were pulling their weight. But it does make you wonder if a rival is trying to finally muscle in on his territory. Right? Kill his money sources."

"Eh." Sarah tilts her head. "We don't really need motives from that guy that any of us would understand. They might have just said some shit he didn't like. I still like the boyfriend for it. Him and the daughter are the only real ones with motive. Stand to inherit, but that would also put the debt on them. And scrutiny."

Sarah lifts a finger, then drops it, clicking her mouth shut with an irritable exhale. "It's his one saving grace. This kind of shit would draw attention on him, and he knows it. If Monaghan had done this, we wouldn't have found the bodies."

"So that brings us to the 'enemy moving in' theory. Except we've heard, nor seen, any such thing. COULD they off a couple of low-level loan sharked rubes? Sure. But that wouldn't hurt Monaghan, at all. It'd be like stealing five bucks from your wallet and leaving all the credit cards and social security number behind."

Stevens lifts herself off of the desk, holding her hands out to her sides. "It could be someone wanting us to look closer at Monaghan, but again, what a roundabout way to go about it. There's got to be something on these two that we're missing. And, for that matter... why isn't their daughter crawling up our ass? Seriously, where is this chick? Every single time I have dead people on my desk, I have relatives shoving both feet up my ass to get it solved, to get justice, etcetera..."

"So I don't like it. I don't like her or her slimey boyfriend, either. I'm gonna go kick rocks, but we can finish this convo over some beers at the pier later." The blonde picks up her jacket, slipping it over her shoulders and flicking her hair back out from under it. She touches Charlie's shoulder on her way past. "Don't burn your eyes out reading these things. Glasses would make you look old!"

"Uh huh...Maybe this was the first foray into muscling in." Charlie offers, even if no one else seems to be listening to her as she turns her attention back to reading the papers in front of her, making sure that there's not anything else that she's missed.

Some time later sees the re-arrival of the ADA. She looks significantly less stressed than when she was in last. Also...different clothes?

"Anything?" she asks hopefully.

"They were getting cash payments for long-term rentals, and then spending the same amount in cash on linen's from a company that is out of business." Charlie replies, sitting back in her seat, starting to spin herself half-way around in place, "So they were laundering money, prevailing theory I have...Stevens also seems to have, among others though, too...they were killed by someone muscleing into the territory. Might have been the first move in, but are they big enough fish? Maybe...maybe not, but...daughter? I'm not buying that one, her boyfriend? Maybe. He's a slimeball. But I can't keep thinking this was a hit against Monaghan."

"Wait..." Cassidy holds up a palm toward Charlie. "A hit against Monaghan? Meaning there's no reason to believe Monaghan ordered this hit?"

Charlie raises a brow, "We've been off Monaghan as the doer for a while...since the fish shit popped up. But yeah, Monaghan is careful...meticulous. He's managed to get through shit in town this long, and you know he's probably buying of someone. So if he did do it? Don't you think there would be people trying to shut it down? Would he be this sloppy? I don't think so..So yeah, against Monaghan."

"Muscling in..." Cassidy hmms and then shrugs. "Okay. Well crossing someone off is as good as adding. And it means maybe we'll actually be allowed to close this one." She prepares to leave. "I guess that leaves Foster?" Tck tck. Cassidy makes some mouth noises. "Great job detective. Keep me updated please."

"Foster is still on my radar...the fact he's locked himself down so tight? If that many didn't have anything to have his lawyers would have at least released a statement to us. But nothing..." Charlie starts to collect things so that she can cart them down to evidence.