Never Tell (Detective D.D. Warren #10) - Lisa Gardner Page 0,94
was proud owner of one feebie, SSA Kimberly Quincy, and two wildcards, Flora Dane and—heaven help her—Keith Edgar, who had a laptop fired up and was clacking away wildly.
Odd team for an odd investigation. Yet, D.D. had that tingle in the base of her spine: They were on the verge of a breakthrough. Between Flora’s conversation with the firebug and their candid face-to-face with Evie Carter, they were getting somewhere.
“Phil.” D.D. nodded to oldest and probably wisest detective in the room. “Tell us what you got on Conrad Carter’s alias bank account.”
“The account was opened eighteen years ago in the name Carter Conner at a local credit union in Jacksonville, Florida. Carter Conner matches the name on the Florida driver’s license discovered in Conrad Carter’s charred lockbox. The starting balance of the account was four hundred and fifty thousand—”
“Lot of money.” Quincy spoke up.
“Yep. One initial deposit, which I’ll get to in a second. Otherwise, Conrad, Carter, whoever we call him—”
“What do you mean whoever we call him?” Flora’s turn. “Is Conrad or Carter or Conner his real name?”
Phil sighed heavily. “Everyone,” he said. “Eat some pizza. And shut up.”
They did.
“So, Carter Conner has an active account at the Florida First Credit Union. Since the initial deposit, he’s been slowly but surely drawing down the balance. Cash withdrawals, always under ten thousand dollars.”
D.D. nodded, understanding the reasoning behind that.
“Several withdrawals a year. So not a lot of money, but if you figure he was always taking it out in cash, a solid slush fund. Then three years ago, a new transaction shows up: monthly transfers of five hundred dollars to a separate account.”
“Under one of his other aliases?” D.D. asked.
“Don’t know yet. I entered the account info into our electronic tracing system but got back an error message. I’ll have to call the bank manager in the morning.”
“So what do you think he was doing with this money?” D.D. pressed.
“Good question. Neil, Carol”—Phil nodded to his two squad mates—“you’re up.”
Neil did the honors. “In answer to Flora’s question, we asked the coroner to run prints, but we’re pretty sure Conrad Carter is actually Carter Conner. That’s his real name, real driver’s license. The rest are fakes.”
“Your murder victim,” said Quincy, “was living under an assumed name? Good God.”
“It’s the money trail, the onetime significant deposit,” Carol took over the story. “It got Neil and me thinking, where did that money come from? Sale of an asset, settlement check, lottery winnings? Because Conrad never deposited again. Just that one check.”
D.D. made a motion with her hand. “I’m assuming you have an answer.”
“Life insurance,” Carol announced. “He received a death benefit twelve years ago when both his parents were killed in a hit-and-run outside of Jacksonville, Florida.”
“Evie said his parents had died,” Flora murmured. Beside her, Keith frowned, clicked away at his computer, frowned again.
“Which is what got us looking,” Neil said. “We couldn’t find any death records for surname Carter. But we knew the aliases from the other driver’s licenses. So we ran those last names. And sure enough, William and Jennifer Conner died in an MVA three months before Conrad opened the bank account.”
“His parents are killed, Conrad receives the life insurance money, then uses it to open an account at a Florida credit union.” D.D. stared at her detectives.
“We’re just getting started,” said Carol. She leaned forward. “William Conner, the dad, was with the JSO.”
“Jacksonville Sheriff’s Office,” Quincy provided for the civilians’ benefit.
“He worked in Major Cases, including homicides, missing persons, assaults. And get this, the MVA that killed him and his wife wasn’t an accident. Someone ran Detective Bill Conner off the road, knowingly targeting an officer and his wife.”
D.D. was still having to process the details. “Conrad’s parents were murdered?”
“Yes.”
“At which time, Conrad deposited the life insurance payout from his parents’ deaths, then headed north to live under an assumed name? Until someone gunned him down in his own home two nights ago?”
“Exactly.” Carol beamed.
“That’s it,” D.D. said. “I’m having more pizza.”
• • •
“I DON’T GET it.” Flora spoke up a minute later. Which was fair enough, because D.D. wasn’t convinced she understood everything either. “Why the alias? Did Conrad think he was a target? Like whoever killed his parents was coming for him next?”
“Unknown,” Neil said.
“Or,” Flora continued now, “was Conrad a suspect in his parents’ death? Was he running away from the police?”
“I doubt that,” Quincy answered immediately. “He kept both an active bank account and a valid driver’s license from Florida. That’s no way