Page 34 of Operation: Sharp Angel

“He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of us taking them, but we didn’t give him much of a choice,” Jackson said.

“Yeah, we kind of reminded him they dropped the ball on this investigation,” Tessman added.

“Well, it’s true,” she said. “So, are the police officially investigating my sister’s family’s murders?” It was odd to her how normal it felt to say the words. Saying the horrific and impossible out loud shouldn’t be as easy as it was now. It had to be because she’d said it so many times.

“Yes, the coroner has reopened the investigation,” Tessman said. “We did promise Davis he’d be our first call if we found anything in these bins. He was there when we were and the place was crawling with cops who were searching every inch of the house for anything the intruders could have been looking for.”

“For the life of me, I don’t know what it could be. The one man said even if I found it, I probably wouldn’t know what it was.”

“I’d say go over everything and scrutinize it to be sure it isn’t anything other than what it appears,” Jackson said.

“We’ll be back in a few hours,” Tessman said. “We’re going to pay another visit to Well-Life.”

“Good luck,” Becca said.

“You too,” Tessman said.

Becca watched them both leave the room. Then she got to work, going back through what she’d just packed the day before.

***

In the car, Jackson and Tessman drove in silence until they pulled into the large parking lot of Well-Life Pharmaceuticals. After Jackson put the vehicle in park, he spoke. “You know, thereis one possible motive we haven’t discussed yet, and I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Becca.”

“Her brother-in-law was a chemist,” Tessman said, believing he knew where Jackson was going. “The cartels are notorious for killing the entire family of an enemy.”

“Yeah,” Jackson agreed. “But there were no unaccounted-for funds in their accounts. If he was cooking up drugs, where are the proceeds?”

“Offshore accounts? That’s where I’d put it,” Tessman said.

Jackson raised an eyebrow behind his sunglasses. “Given it that much thought, have you?”

Tessman chuckled. “Just saying. Knowing how easily U.S. bank accounts can be checked, I’d either stash it off shore or in a shell company account.”

“That could have been what they were looking for, any documentation on that account,” Jackson said.

“I’ll send Becca a text and have her look for something of that nature without telling her what we’re thinking.”

“I’ll loop Brielle in on this line of inquiry as well,” Jackson volunteered.

Once both men were done sending their text messages, they exited the vehicle and walked to the main entrance. Once they stood in front of the receptionist, Tessman held up his badge. “Agent Tessman, FBI. We don’t have an appointment, but we’d like to speak with either someone in your Human Resources Department or the head of your Research and Development Department.”

“And eventually, the head of your Marketing Department too,” Jackson added.

The young woman behind the elevated counter looked flustered. “Um, I’m sorry, as I’m sure you understand they are all extremely busy and see no one without an appointment.”

Jackson pointed at the waiting area where a half-dozen people were seated. “We’ll just wait and talk with the others to pass the time.”

The woman looked horrified. “Do you have a warrant?” she asked a beat later.

“It’s in process, but we’d prefer to have a friendly chat and not need to serve you with a warrant because that’s a lot of paperwork and we’ll be taking files and all sorts of things then, which we really don’t need to. We just need five minutes of someone’s time to ask a few questions,” Jackson said.

“But we can have a warrant in about fifteen minutes if we need one,” Tessman added.

She rose from her seat. “Follow me. I’ll have you wait in the conference room, and I’ll get someone from Human Resources right away.” She led them to a hallway through a set of double doors on the left. Within, the first door opened into a small conference room. “Please, have a seat and someone will be right with you.” She closed the door on her way out.

Jackson flipped his wrist up and gazed at the face of his watch. “I’ll give them seven minutes.”

Tessman chuckled. “And then what? We take a walk and find the people we want to talk to ourselves?”

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