Chapter 7

Kelani was, in fact, just getting started. Her accounting degree had given her the tools she needed, and her own inquisitive and tireless curiosity gave her the perfect attitude to relish doing white collar investigations. Soon she had reams of paper to go through, and disks of data. For three weeks she came to work, ignored me all day, and kept her nose in either handfuls of papers, or the computer screen. She took notes and prepared spreadsheets. I handled the upkeep on all our other cases, while she dug into D & R Enterprises. Twice she snarled at me for interrupting her and breaking her concentration.

At night, though, she left work behind. She didn't want me to come to her house, which was in a part of town where she said I'd be distracted all the time, arresting her neighbors. So three or four times a week she came to my house and paid attention to being my lover. That sounds chauvinistic, but it wasn't. That's because I paid attention to being her lover too. She brought out things in me I thought were long dead. And being lovers didn't always mean just having sex. She had never read a Harry Potter book or seen the movies. I had the full set of books. The last book had just come out, and I had it, but hadn't read it yet. So, over a period of weeks, she would spend at least an hour a night reading, curled in one of my easy chairs, while I puttered, or read or just sat and watched her read. Then we might watch a movie, or go to a park, or window shopping. Eventually she would say "Take me home. I need to speak with you in private."

And then we'd go home and just tear up my bed.

It took her five weeks to unravel the tangled web that Jeff Rudolph had woven to hide the fact that, professionally, his primary activity involved ripping off the United States Government. She traced the thirty companies in D & R Enterprises back to him in one way or another. His wife was not on any business documents, and apparently stayed at their gated mansion in Las Vegas. The Ranch on the western Rockies was his playground, and the place he most often wheeled and dealed. There he had the privacy and setting in which to do complicated business deals. Surveillance established that there were almost weekly shindigs at the ranch, by invitation only. What was interesting was that an awful lot of Government contracting officers got invited to his parties. Most of them arrived without their wives, but then there were carloads of pretty young women who arrived without escorts either. It was pretty obvious what the food stolen from the camp was being used for.

That food was being stolen was something Kelani established quickly and easily. The wholesaler's records showed what was being supplied, and one of the D & R shell companies that did all the accounting for the lodge and camp prepared detailed records of how all those supplies were used up at the Lodge and camp. Through very clever accounting practices, the number of guests, and the fees collected from those guests, were reported in completely different formats, and separate quarterly reports. So the only way it could be determined that more food was being requested than was actually needed, was to compare reports that looked like apples and oranges.

That would have been enough, but Kelani went ahead and found fuel discrepancies in claims for the flying service. They only had one chopper, but sent in claims for reimbursement for enough fuel to have flown two routinely. There were documented discrepancies in fifteen of the other shell companies, all of which were doing business with the Government in one fashion or another.

Her preliminary estimate for what D & R Enterprises had overcharged or stolen from the Government, was 3.2 million dollars. And that was just for one year. The food alone added up to half a million.

Joe was ecstatic. The AUSA looked over what Kelani had put together in a briefing, and frowned. He complained it would be a complicated case, with all the shell companies, and different business locations, and disparate kinds of contracts involved. But he said he was interested, and would put together a Grand Jury to investigate charges of theft of government property and funds, as well as wire fraud, for the electronic billing the companies did.

Then he told us he wanted us to go find Jeffrey Rudolph and shake his tree, to see what dropped out.

"It's way too early for that," I said. "We're still identifying what kinds of documents we're going to need to seize. If we roust him now, a lot of those documents will suddenly get lost."

"That's one of the things I want you to be very specific with him about," said the attorney. "Tell him he needs to make sure that all his companies records are in pristine condition, because we're going to be holding him personally responsible if anything is missing."

"Why put him on notice?" I asked.

"Because this case will take years to prosecute," he said frankly. "Unless he wants to make a deal. If we get ten or fifteen million back, and avoid an expensive and extended prosecution, we're better off than if we try to go after everything."

"Based on what I've been seeing, he could be into the government for as much as twenty-five million or more," said Kelani.

"Which it would take us ten years to prove, during which time he'd declare bankruptcy, and we wouldn't get squat in the end. I say put the pressure on him to make a deal now. If that doesn't work, we can drag him through the dirt then."

Which is how Kelani and I ended up on the fourteenth floor of an office building in Las Vegas, Nevada, walking into the offices of something called Sin City Property Development Company.

We were met by a typically pretty young woman who said her name was Emily, and asked if she could help us. We asked to speak with Mr. Rudolph. She asked us what the nature of our business was, and I said "Property development."

Emily told us to have a seat, and she would see if Mr. Rudolph could see us. She then went through a pair of ten foot tall doors that looked like they were made of solid, carved oak.

Ten minutes later she opened one of the doors and said "Mr. Rudolph will see you now."

Jeffrey Rudolph had that tanned look of a man who spends a lot of time outdoors in Florida or California. His skin wasn't dried out like Las Vegas residents often suffer. He had thick, medium length blond hair, and a car salesman's smile. He looked to be about my age, but was possibly in his early fifties.

"I'm Jeff Rudolph," he said, standing up. "How can I help you?"

I badged him and told him he was under investigation for false official statements, larceny of government funds, wire fraud, and quite possibly other offenses involving most, if not all of his shell companies gathered under the banner of D & R Enterprises. The only warrant we had with us had been issued for the ranch. The idea was to shake him up and see what he said, and then take him to the ranch, where a search team would be waiting.

Things didn't quite turn out that way, though.

He picked up his phone and punched a button. He didn't look worried at all.

"Emily? You know that comp time I owe you for the overtime you put in last week? I want you to take it, starting now. Please lock up on the way out."

He hung up the phone, sat down, and said "Now what's all this nonsense about?"

I thought it was extremely interesting that he'd called his secretary, and told her to go home, instead of calling his attorney.

Jeffrey wasn't in the mood to make any statements or deals. He said it was all bullshit and that he'd be happy to show us the ranch. He stood up and said "Shall we go now?"

I hadn't been ambushed in a long, long time, which was why I wasn't prepared, when we left his office to find sweet little Emily standing to one side of us, holding a very shiny nickel plated semi automatic pistol that looked like a Taurus 9mm. She had locked up. She just hadn't left.

Jeffrey stepped away from us as Emily said "Don't move!" She sounded scared enough that I didn't move.

Jeffrey said "Cover him, honey, but keep your eye on the other one too."

"I called," said Emily, babbling in her nervous energy. "The jet will be ready when we get there." Kelani moved and Emily's shrill voice yipped "I don't want to shoot you, but I will!"

"Nobody's shooting anybody," Jeff said smoothly. He stepped behind me and patted my sides, finding my shoulder holster. He relieved me of my Sig Sauer. He felt on my belt for my cuffs and pulled them too. "We're just going to cuff these two to something so they can't get loose for a few hours. By the time somebody finds them and lets them loose, we'll be living in luxury, just like I promised you, baby."

"We'll freeze your assets," I said calmly.

He laughed. "You think I'm stupid enough to keep my money in American banks? I have friends in high places in countries that don't give a crap what the FBI thinks."

I decided not to correct his impression we were with the FBI. I try not to quibble when a scared young woman is pointing a loaded pistol at me.

He moved over to Kelani and basically felt her up, searching for her weapon. He stood behind her and put my gun in his waistband. Then he reached around and grabbed her breasts, squeezing them hard. "Where you got it, honey?" he said under his breath, and reached his right hand down to grope between her legs. I saw her right knee bend, and her foot came off the floor six inches.

"Don't!" I warned, but it was too late.

Kelani's heel came down on his instep as her right elbow slid up his arm and she leaned forward. Her elbow caught him on the temple and he staggered sideways.

"Stop!" screamed Emily and her pistol tracked over toward Kelani, who was moving parallel to Rudolph. She whirled and her foot impacted his knee. I heard the dull crack of broken bones and winced as Rudolph let out an agonized cry. Emily's gun went off, but I could tell she shot way high. Then my handcuffs were flying through the air, whirling on the axis of the chain that connected them. They caught Emily right on her forehead and her head snapped back. The gun went off again, neatly puncturing the ceiling.

I reached for my backup gun in the holster on my right ankle. It was a Chief Special, chambered for .357 Magnum. It only held five rounds, but I carried Black Talon hollow points in it. As I stood up Jeffrey Rudolph shot me with my own pistol. He hit me in my left shoulder and the standard issue government 9mm ball knocked me backwards to the floor. I looked over at Kelani in time to see her roundhouse kick snap into Emily's head. Sweet Emily collapsed like a rag doll and Kelani dropped to the floor just as Rudolph fired at her with my gun. The desk was in his way and the bullets went high.

"You bitch!" he screamed, "You broke my fucking leg!" and I saw him trying to get up. I knew there were at least ten rounds left in my pistol, so I brought my backup up and shot him center mass. My Sig went flying and he screamed. Within seconds Kelani was standing over him, her own Sig, pulled from her thigh holster, pointing at his head as her foot kicked my pistol away from his hand. She looked over at me.

"How bad?"

"Through and through, I think," I said. "Do what you have to do."

"Call 911," she said. "He's bleeding pretty badly. Nice shooting, partner. You got him in the shoulder."

"Fuck," I groaned. "I was aiming for his heart."

I called 911 and then Joe. I was starting to feel the pain, and my arm was pretty bloodied up. Rudolph was in much worse shape. The Black Talon had hit the shoulder joint and shrapnel had removed half a pound of flesh. They took him straight to the hospital and into surgery. Las Vegas PD showed up in the mood for a raid, but Kelani explained things to them. Another ambulance came and I had to leave her there to fend for herself. I found out later she made a lifelong friend of the LVPD CSI and they directed the processing of the scene together. She said it was interesting to see the lengths they would go to to find and retrieve every bullet fired.

I was trying to convince the doctor that with the bleeding stopped, there was no reason I couldn't leave the hospital when Kelani showed up and asked the doctor if he wanted her to handcuff me to the bed. She dangled my own handcuffs in front of her as she suggested it. He laughed, said he wanted me to stay overnight, but that he was sure I could go home in the morning.

Once Kelani was sure I'd stay in bed, she went to find out about Rudolph. She came back to tell me the prognosis was good that he'd live, but bad that he'd ever have full use of the arm again. I asked where Emily was, and she snorted.

"Once she regained consciousness, saw all the blood, and I arrested her for attempted murder, she begged to roll over on her boss. Apparently he was going to take her to Nueva Gerona, which a little island south of Cuba. He threw around a bunch of money and made friends with the Cubans. He has a villa down there that his wife doesn't know about."

"Worked out okay," I said.

"Except for you getting shot. I'm not wild about that part," she said.

"As well you should not be. And now, please take off your clothes."

"What? Why. You are injured!"

"Yes, and I need to inspect you to make sure you are not," I said, trying to stop from grinning.

"I'm the inspector here," she said. "Until you are healed."

"And I need to inspect the inspector," I said, straight faced.

"You just want to see me naked."

"You've a very smart inspector," I said. "You'll go far in this outfit."

She decided to ignore me. "There is something we need to do when you get well," she said.

"What's that?"

"We need to get married," she said.

"Oh really?"

"Yes."

"May I ask what brought this on?"

"Of course," she said ... and then was silent.

"What brought this on?" I asked.

"You are my Aroha Tuatahi," she said. "I know this now."

"I'm honored," I said.

"And you have given me the gift of life in my Te-Koru ... my womb." She patted her stomach as she said it. "I wish for him to bear your name, and so it would be good that we marry before you get yourself killed."

"You're pregnant?" I felt weak. The talk of marriage was something that didn't bother me. I had thought about the possibility of that for weeks. True, I didn't think it would ever actually happen, but the idea of it was actually quite pleasing to me.

"Yes," she said. "I have missed two cycles, and the doctor says I have killed a rabbit somehow. I was going to talk to you about this, but I got busy preparing the case to show to the AUSA, and then we came here and those idiots tried to kill us over money. I am learning that Americans can be very stupid sometimes."

"Very," I said, searching for something to say.

"Plus, you were right. I am tired of having to hide that I love you. I want everyone to know. And I want everyone to know you have given me this special gift." She patted her stomach again, and then looked at me closely. "You are not smiling. I suppose there is some stupid rule that says Agents may not marry."

"No. No rule," I said. "I'm just surprised. I didn't see it coming that you'd want to marry me."

"Then you're not very observant. You need to pay a hell of a lot more attention to detail, or you won't hack it in this organization. I believe you told me that a few months ago when you were resisting shocking my womb."

"I am blinded by my love for you," I said.

She smiled. "You can be so full of shit, Bob. But that's one of the things I love about you. You are a good man. You are my Aroha Tuatahi, and I am yours. We will be together forever."

"I can't wait to get started being together forever," I said.

She seemed to relax. "Good. I will tell Joe that we need time off to be married. I like your house. Can we just live there?"

"Not unless you kiss me first," I said.

"Am I allowed to? You are injured."

"You're allowed to," I said.

She leaned over and kissed me gently. I put my good hand behind her head and held her there for a long time. When I let go and she pulled back, I said "I love you, Kelani Tokorau. I am honored to be Aroha Tuatahi to you."

Her eyes got misty. "Maybe you are not too injured. Am I allowed to make love with you in the hospital too?"

My arm was still in a sling. Rudolph's lawyer was in Joe's office, ranting about how we broke his knee and destroyed his shoulder, almost killing him during a routine arrest. He was calling us incompetent.