Greed: An Amber Monroe Crime Thriller, #1

By C.M. Sutter

Washburn County Deputy Amber Monroe is following in the footsteps of her sister, Jade. She devours everything she can during her detective training in hopes of being promoted soon.

Living in small-town USA has its advantages, like a sense of security, and disadvantages, like being close to Milwaukee and its crime. Washburn County has become the dumping ground of murder victims, courtesy of its neighboring county to the south.

When two men are discovered on the outskirts of North Bend, each with a bullet to the head, Amber's team, led by Lieutenant Jack Steele, hits the highway in search of a killer.

Assisted by the Milwaukee PD, they go deep into Brew City's underbelly, which reveals far more than anyone ever expected. Crimes involving murder and counterfeiting keep the team running in every direction, but it's Amber's attraction to a new man in North Bend that puts her front and center on the killer's short list.

Note: All Amber Monroe books are standalone stories but since characters carry over, they are best read in chronological order.

Series One - Amber Monroe Crime Thriller Series

#1 Greed

#2 Avenged

#3 Vendetta

#4 Atrocity

#5 Travesty

The Amber Monroe Crime Thriller Series follows on the heels of the conclusion of Malice, Book 5 in the Agent Jade Monroe FBI Thriller Series.

Editorial Review:

"Fans of C. M. Sutter's Jade Monroe crime thrillers will be pleased to learn that Jade's younger sister, Amber Monroe, is about to make detective and kicking off her own law enforcement career in small-town North Bend, Wisconsin. Amber is determined to succeed in law enforcement and eager to prove her investigative chops—along with another deputy who happens to have psychic abilities—and she gets the chance when two dead bodies are dumped in North Bend. There's also the intrigue of a possible counterfeiting ring turning up in town, making this fast-paced tale a terrific kickoff to the new series." Angela M., Editor, Red Adept Editing

• Language: English
• Publisher: C.M. Sutter
• Release date: Mar 6, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386887683

Book preview

Chapter 1

McKinley listened to the background noise of the laser printers whirring in that large rented warehouse. His ears perked at the clack of footsteps growing closer to his office. He looked up and waited. Moments later, a heavy rap sounded on the steel door.

Who’s there?

It’s Joe.

Come in. McKinley sat behind his imported teak desk with paperwork spread out in front of him. As the door pushed inward, he slipped off his reading glasses and set them down. What is it?

We have a problem.

McKinley raised a brow. Rephrase that, please. I know with one hundred percent certainty that I don’t have a problem unless you are about to cause one.

I wasn’t expecting my cousin to stop over. He caught me completely off guard as I was putting the bleached bills in boxes.

Get to the point.

He saw it, all of it, and put two and two together. He wants in, or he said he’d squeal us out.

McKinley sneered, Who is this piss ant that’s threatening my enterprise?

Like I said, he’s my cousin. His name is Charlie Dupree. Joe wiped his brow. Anxiety was taking over his thoughts and every inch of his body. He was living his worst nightmare—being on the wrong side of McKinley Moore.

He wants in, huh? Does he have any skills?

Joe shrugged. I don’t know, but anybody can be taught this job, right?

Don’t be flip with me. Even with the small responsibility you have in this business, you still find a way to screw things up! McKinley pounded the desk and nearly tipped over his half-full coffee cup. He grabbed it before it fell to the floor. Bring your cousin in. I’d like to have a word with him. Meanwhile, where’s the damn paper?

It’s in the cube van. I’ll back the van in, unload it, and then go get Charlie.

McKinley took in a deep breath and leaned back in his butter-soft leather office chair. He pressed his fingertips against his forehead and tried to rub out the stress. Yeah, okay, bring him in. He damn well better be blindfolded the entire way here. Better yet, lock him in the back of the van. He jerked his head toward the door. That was Joe’s cue to leave. Now go. Get Royce to help you unload the paper. I want this bullshit out of my mind before noon.

Joe extended his hand to shake Mr. Moore’s. He seemed grateful.

McKinley’s clenched hands remained on the desk as he stared at the half-minded punk. Seriously? Get the hell out of my office. He waited until Joe closed the door behind him, then he unlocked the lower right desk drawer and studied the contents carefully. Moments later, he picked up his phone and scrolled to Juan’s number. Hey, it’s me. I want you to ride shotgun with Joe. He’s picking up someone, and I want you to make sure that person is locked in the back of the van. I don’t trust that idiot. Call me the second you guys get back here. Got it?

Absolutely, Mr. Moore, and it looks like he’s about to leave. The van is empty.

Okay, go now. McKinley clicked off Speakerphone, returned the phone to its base, and rounded the desk to the window. He turned the wand on the blinds and watched as the van drove away from the garage next to the loading dock. He scanned the area before closing the blinds. Several boarded-up warehouse buildings filled the space between his rental unit and two others at the end of the dead-end street. Being located in Milwaukee’s worst neighborhood was a good thing—nobody was stupid enough to stop by.

It was ten o’clock when he made another check of the time. An hour had passed, and the van would be returning soon. McKinley cleared the paperwork off his desk and neatly organized every sheet into its own file cabinet folder. He closed the cabinet, turned the key in the lock, and dropped it in his front pants pocket. The sound of the overhead door lifting alerted him. His desk phone rang, and he picked it up as he walked to the window again.

We’re back, boss. No problems.

Yes, I’m watching the van drive into the building. Blindfold that new guy before you let him out. He doesn’t need to see our operation until after I meet him.

Will do.

McKinley heard complaints and cursing as footsteps got closer to his door. A hard knock sounded, and he told them to come in. Juan, Joe, and an obviously pissed-off man blindfolded with shop rags entered his office and stood in front of his desk.

Close the door and take that shit off his face.

Juan pushed the door closed with his foot, and Joe reached for the knotted rags at the back of his cousin’s head.

Charlie jerked away from his grasp. Leave me the hell alone. I’ll do it myself. He reached behind his head, untied the rags, and dropped them to the floor.

McKinley gave Juan a nod and asked him to leave the room. So, Mr. Dupree, you think you’re hot shit, right?

Charlie jerked his head and, with a smug response, answered the question. From this side of the desk, it looks like I’m going to be calling the shots. I know exactly what this operation is and the kind of money you probably make—literally. He laughed at his own quick wit.

McKinley laughed with him. Nice comeback. He gave Joe a glance and saw relief spread across his face. Here’s my proposition, your position, and your cut if I hire you. He opened the bottom desk drawer.

Charlie huffed. From where I stand, you don’t have much of a choice.

McKinley pulled out the loaded .38 Smith & Wesson revolver, cocked the hammer, and fired two shots, one to the forehead of each man. He watched as the impact threw them against the wall, then they slid to the floor. Blood spray and bone fragments spattered the room. That’s where you’re wrong, smart-ass. There’s always a choice.

Chapter 2

Jack placed his phone on the base and called our two daytime detectives into his office. Billings balled up his cookie wrapper, wiped his mouth, and rose from his desk. Clayton followed Billings and closed Jack’s door behind him.

What do you think that’s about? I jerked my chin toward the office. The framed plaque at eye level on the door read Lt. Jack Steele.

Don’t know. It’s probably above our pay grade. Kate gave me one of her oversized grins.

Less than two minutes later, the door swung open, and Jack, Billings, and Clayton poured out.

Jack pointed at us. Amber and Kate, tag along with Clayton and Billings. There’s trouble on Paradise. I have to call the ME and Forensics.

I closed the folders that were spread out across my desk, guzzled the last of my soda, and rose. Until we were promoted to sheriff’s office detectives, our jobs were to do whatever we were told to do as we transitioned from deputies to investigators. "Don’t you mean there’s trouble in paradise?"

Clayton waved us to the door. Let’s go, ladies. Somebody just called in two dead bodies lying in the ditch on Paradise Drive.

Kate leapt from her chair, shouldered her weapon, and headed for the security door that separated the bull pen from the rest of the departments. Come on, Amber. I’ll drive.

We took the stairs to the ground floor, and without missing a beat, Kate grabbed a set of cruiser keys from behind the counter. Clayton and Billings had already reached the parking lot and were climbing into their car.

Jeez, can’t they wait? I stepped up my pace.

Each cruiser sat in a numbered spot, and the key rings had the corresponding number on the fob.

I looked back as Kate ran out the door. Which car?

Number three. She double-clicked the fob, and the door locks popped up.

Hurry, Kate. Those guys are almost to the street. I dove into the passenger seat and fastened my belt.

Kate climbed in behind the wheel, turned the key, and gunned it. What did Clayton say? Two dead men or women?

He didn’t. He just said two dead bodies.

We caught up with the cruiser ahead of us and reached the location on Paradise, near South Oak Road, in under ten minutes. With our cruiser tucked in the gravel at the ditch’s edge, we climbed out and followed Clayton and Billings. Two patrol units had already arrived and had the scene barricaded with their vehicles. A lone truck, with two people standing next to it, sat parked along the shoulder a hundred feet east of the bodies.

Are those the people who called it in? I asked.

Deputy Silver, one of my former coworkers in the patrol unit, responded. Good to see you, Amber, and yes, they called it in.

Who interviewed them?

I did, but feel free to ask them more questions. I told them they had to stick around for the time being.

Good enough. I shielded my eyes and took in my surroundings. The country was quickly being taken over by subdivisions. Along the horizon to my left stood a farm and likely several hundred acres of month-old corn. A freshly plowed field was to the right of the farm. A mile behind us, closer to town, was a brand-new subdivision. New homes were being erected daily, and I remembered seeing work crews on several rooftops when we passed. I was sure their curiosity would get the best of them and they’d mosey over during their break time to see what was going on. Who has the crime tape? We need that stretched across the road.

Silver offered to take care of that task and walked the opposite shoulder to his patrol car. Kate and I turned at the sound behind us. Two dark vans were heading in our direction.

It looks like the rest of the team is here. Kate cupped her hand to her mouth and yelled out at Silver. Let them pass before you seal the road.

He looked over his shoulder and nodded.

I’m going to talk to those folks for a bit and get my own account of what they saw.

Okay, I’ll catch up to Clayton and Billings. Kate headed toward the group at the ditch.

I pulled out my notepad as I approached the couple standing next to their Dodge Ram. Hello, folks, I’m Deputy Amber Monroe. I’d like to get your account of what took place here. I promise this won’t take long, and I apologize in advance if the questions sound redundant, but please bear with us. Let’s start with your names, relationship to each other, your address, and why you were on Paradise Drive.

The male took the initiative and began speaking. I’m Ken Lettley, and—he pointed at the woman standing to his right—this is my wife, Elise.

L-E-T-T-L-E-Y? I asked as I spelled it out.

That’s correct, deputy.

I nodded. Go ahead. Your address, please.

We live in Cedarburg. He rattled off their address as I jotted it down. We just had lunch at Omicron, which we do twice a month. Anyway, we were headed home. As you may notice, our truck is a bit higher than cars. I guess that gave us a better vantage point if you’d consider coming up on two dead men an advantage. Anyway, I’m sure that’s the only reason Elise saw them.

So, Mrs. Lettley, you’re the one who noticed them?

I’m afraid so. I’m always looking out to the fields. Oftentimes, I see turkeys and deer out there.

I bet you do. I gave her a quick smile to calm her apparent anxiety. I noticed she was wringing her hands. Did both of you get out of the truck?

Ken rested his folded arms over his large stomach. Yes, we did, and I’ll be honest, we walked right up to the bodies. I had to make sure they weren’t just people sleeping before we made the 911 call.

Mrs. Lettley added her two cents. The bullet holes in their foreheads confirmed it for us. I never—

I patted her arm. I’m sure you haven’t, ma’am. So neither of you touched them, and you made the call immediately upon visually confirming they were dead?

Absolutely, Deputy Monroe, Ken said.

Okay, that should do it. Here’s my card. I’ll have to clear it with the detectives before you can leave. Give me just a few more minutes, please. I walked over to where Clayton, Billings, Kate, and a handful of deputies and experts stood. Clayton, can I have a minute?

He turned to me. Sure thing, Amber.

We stepped back a few feet and spoke. I got another statement from the people who called it in. Silver took their initial statement, but it doesn’t hurt to hear it twice in case they made a mistake the first time. Being upset can throw off a person’s memory, you know.

Clayton grinned. You sure remind me of what’s her name.

I laughed. Thanks, that’s quite a compliment. Anyway, can I cut them loose? I gave them my card.

Sure thing, kiddo. Go ahead. I want you to listen in on Lena’s assessment, so hurry up.

Got it. Thanks, Chad. I walked back to Mr. and Mrs. Lettley and told them they could leave. I thanked them for making the call, and with a firm handshake, I said goodbye. Back at the bodies, I stepped down into the three-foot ditch and knelt alongside Billings, Kate, and Lena Wayfair, our newest ME. Kyle Miller and Dan Brent, the forensic leads, had already photographed the bodies and were snapping pictures of the surrounding area. Their assistants, Jerry Gundrum and Jeff Peterson, scoured the grasses for clues.

Clayton stood at our backs. Listen up, ladies, and take notes. This is your field work—he looked from right to left—literally. Go ahead, Lena. Let’s hear what the bodies are telling you.

Lena glanced at each face that surrounded her. Are you ready?

We gave her a group nod.

Okay. What we have here are two male bodies with what appear to be bullet holes dead center in their foreheads. She carefully lifted each head and felt the back side for exit wounds. She nodded. The bullets went through, and the holes in the back are pretty big. That’s telling me a large-caliber weapon was used.

A .38 or a .45? Somewhere in that neck of the woods? Billings asked.

Definitely a .38 or larger. Once the bodies are lifted, we can check the soil beneath for slugs, but upon initial exam, I’d say they were shot somewhere else and dumped here. There isn’t enough blood surrounding the bodies. She pointed at the patch of weeds in a three-foot circumference around the men. No castoff anywhere. They’re wearing everyday clothes, so they aren’t professionals in the business sense of the word. The blond looks to be in his mid-thirties—she cocked her head toward the second man—and he looks a bit younger, maybe late twenties.

Any IDs on either of them? I asked.

Nope, and check this out. She turned their hands toward us, palms up.

What the hell? Kate leaned in closer. The pads of their fingers have been removed?

Yes, and it looks like they were just sliced off with a common knife.

I gave that some thought. The only reason the perp would remove their finger pads was because the men had records and would be identified by their fingerprints. Whatever enterprise the dead men were involved in was serious enough to implicate many more people if they were identified. Can you get an ID off their dental records?

Normally, but their teeth were bashed in, probably with a hammer.

Wow. Kate pushed off her knees and stood. These men were dumped like yesterday’s trash, and somebody is absolutely trying to hide their identity.

Then why leave them on the side of the road where they were easily seen? I asked.

The logical answer to that is the men aren’t from this area. They’d be recognized as soon as their faces were aired on the news, Lena said. She turned back to the bodies and bent their joints at the wrists and knees. They’re beginning to show signs of rigor. I’d place their deaths sometime this morning. My initial thoughts would be three to four hours ago.

I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time—1:36. So the nine thirty to ten thirty range?

Lena nodded. Seems about right. She called out to Jason McMillian, her assistant. Let’s get them in the van. She glanced at the dark billowy clouds moving in. Looks like it might rain.

Billings addressed the forensic team. Let us know if you find anything.

Sure thing, Detective Billings, Kyle said.

We walked together back to the cruisers. Now what? I asked.

Clayton answered for the group. Now we go back to the office, explain what we saw to Jack, and figure out where these men are from and who they are.

Using the timeline?

That’s exactly right, Amber. Whoever killed them had to take the time to remove their fingerprints and knock out their teeth. They were then transported here from wherever and found, according to the 911 call—he checked his notes—at twelve fifty-two p.m. All of that takes time, so they couldn’t have come from too far away.

I brushed the blades of grass off my knees. You’re thinking Milwaukee?

For now it’s our best guess. Let’s go.

We climbed into our cruisers and headed to town.

I gave Kate the side-eye. Getting any images in that psychic brain of yours?

Kate turned right onto Highway G as she followed Clayton to the sheriff’s office. It doesn’t just pop into my mind like that. Hell, if it did, law enforcement could sit back and eat doughnuts while I figured out the whos, whys, and wheres of every case. Then I’d just delegate people to go out and pick up the bad guy.

I shrugged and silently read each billboard as we passed. Wouldn’t it be nice, though?

Chapter 3

How’s it going? McKinley watched as a newly printed bill was removed from the nearest laser printer. The hum of machinery meant new money was constantly being pumped out.

The process is running like a fine-tuned clock, Mr. Moore. Royce handed him a twenty for inspection.

McKinley held it under the lighted magnifying lens and studied it with admiration.

We just need to keep those bleached singles coming in. I’d suggest getting ten more laser printers.

Great idea, Royce, and we’ll talk about that later. I intend to start bleaching here at the warehouse, where we can keep a close watch on the entire process from start to finish. People like Joe aren’t reliable or careful. He was a moron.

Royce nodded as he placed another blank in the printer. Yeah, and now he’s a dead moron.

McKinley retreated to his office and closed the door behind him. He took a seat at his desk and made a call to his eldest son, Frank. I need you to come to the warehouse today. McKinley heard a sigh on the other end of the phone. Is there a problem with that?

No, Pop, I’m just trying to figure out a time when I can get away. Our monthly branch meeting is set up for three o’clock. That usually runs at least an hour.

Then be here at five. I’ll call Grant too and tell him the same time.

Okay, that should work. See you then.

Can you bring ten stacks of singles with you?

I’ll see what I can do.

McKinley tapped the end call button, listened to make sure the call disconnected, then dialed his younger son, Grant.

Hey, Pop, what’s up?

Busy?

Yeah, the remodeling is done. All that’s left is the finishing touches. The grand opening is Friday night.

Make sure to pay the contractors from our shell corporation assets.

I have been.

McKinley chuckled. Good work, Grant. I’ve already called Frank. We’re having a meeting at the warehouse at five p.m. I need you there.

Not a problem. See you then.

With the phone back on its base, McKinley rounded his desk, opened the door, and scanned the warehouse for Juan. He yelled out to him when he saw Juan at the inspection station. Juan, I want you and Derek in my office right now.

Yes, sir, Mr. Moore. With a flip of the toggle switch, Juan clicked off the lighted magnifying glass, nudged the shoulder of the man working alongside him, and crossed the warehouse floor to the only office in the building. With a two-rap knock on the door, they waited on the other side for permission to enter.

Come in.

Juan pushed up his sleeves and exposed his thick, muscular forearms that were covered in ink. Both men stood until they were offered seats.

Grab a chair.

Thank you, Derek said on their behalf.

Who cleaned up the shit in my office while I was out?

Juan spoke up. I believe Marco did, Mr. Moore.

Find out for sure. He’s due for a promotion if that’s the case. That was a disgusting mess. Now tell me about the drop. McKinley turned his attention to Juan and gave him a nod.

The bodies were prepared first.

You mean the norm—fingerprints and teeth?

Yes. Then we placed them in shrink wrap, tossed them in the back of the van, and headed north.

North? Why north?

Um… no reason in particular except that it’s cow country and less populated. Both men grinned. To be honest, Mr. Moore, thirty miles north is like being in a different country. All that’s around the area are fields where farmers on tractors are plowing something with shit-smelling fertilizer. We found a flat, straight road where we could see for miles in each direction. There wasn’t any traffic, so we pulled over, yanked out the bodies, and dumped them in a deep ditch. We unrolled them from the shrink wrap and left them there.

What did you do with the shrink wrap?

Derek jerked his chin toward the warehouse space behind them. I tossed it into the incinerator.

That’s good, very good. No loose ends and no witnesses?

No, sir, we were professional all the way. The dump only took five minutes.

Where are their personal belongings?

I’ll get them for you. They’re still in the van, Juan said.

McKinley rose and escorted the men to the van that was parked just inside the overhead roller doors. Remove the money from their wallets then toss everything into the incinerator, phones too.

Derek pulled out the bills from both wallets and handed them to his boss. Anything else?

Yes—McKinley tucked the paper money into his front pocket—send Marco into my office.

Chapter 4

Jack sat on the edge of my desk, his arms folded across his chest. He gave me a nod. Go.

"We arrived at the scene at one fifteen. I spoke to the couple who called in