Page 3 of Silent Bones
"Detective Sutherland," called Evidence Technician Sarah Martinez. "You need to see this."
She led him to a small office area where a computer displayed spreadsheets tracking inventory, sales figures, and shipping schedules. The level of sophistication was impressive, this wasn't some amateur operation run out of a garage.
"There is a nice paper trail. Amazon provided us with more than a hundred pages of documentation," Martinez explained. "Everything Pellegrino had stored in their warehouses. Dog collars, circuit breakers, ink cartridges, premium vitamins. If it was stolen from CVS, it's on this list."
Noah studied the documents, calculating the scope of the operation. The theft ring had been more successful than anyone had imagined. "And the women? The actual thieves?"
"Being processed at the county jail," McKenzie said, rejoining them. "Turns out they're all from the same extended family in Quebec. Pellegrino recruited them through social media, promised them a percentage of the sales."
"And the jewelry purchases?"
"That's where it gets interesting. Pellegrino admits to buying gold and silver, but claims it was for his girlfriend in Montreal. Says she was supposed to sell it and send him the cash."
Noah nodded. It was a classic laundering scheme, convert stolen goods to cash, cash to precious metals, then back to cash in a different jurisdiction. Simple, effective, and difficult to trace.
"Sir?" Martinez approached with a tablet displaying photographs. "We found this in Pellegrino's car."
The images showed jewelry from stores in Albany, with timestamps indicating recent visits. In several photos, a woman matching the description of Pellegrino's girlfriend could be seen examining gold chains and bracelets.
"The jewelry wasn’t just for storage and sale on Amazon," Noah said, studying the travel records. "That would have raisedtoo many red flags and questions from Amazon. They've worn it during flights to avoid customs detection, then sold it for cash once they reached their destination. Clean money, no paper trail. Looks like we'll need to coordinate with our Canadian colleagues," Noah added, making a mental note to contact the RCMP.
McKenzie was examining shipping labels near the loading dock. "Sutherland, come look at this. These addresses, they're all over the bloody map. California, Florida, Texas. This wasn't just a regional operation."
Noah joined him, studying the labels. The scope was staggering. What had begun as a simple shoplifting investigation had uncovered a sophisticated criminal enterprise that spanned multiple states and crossed international borders.
"How many involved?" Noah asked.
"Based on the surveillance footage and arrest records, at least fifteen," McKenzie replied. "But I'd wager there were more. Pellegrino had to have help with the logistics."
As they continued processing the scene, Noah felt his phone vibrate. A text from his daughter Mia: "Dad, do you know where my makeup bag is? I think Ethan moved it but he denies it. By the way, don't forget we're leaving early tomorrow for camping! Ethan's been packing since breakfast."
The reminder brought a smile to his face. After six months of long hours and weekend surveillance, he was finally going to get some quality time with his kids. A week of camping in the Adirondacks, away from crime scenes and criminals, was exactly what he needed.
"Right then," McKenzie said, sealing the last evidence bag. "I'd say this case is officially in the bag. Pellegrino's looking at federal charges, the women will likely plead out, and CVS gets most of their merchandise back. Not bad work." McKenzie stared at him. “You good?”
Noah looked around the warehouse one final time, taking in the magnitude of what they'd uncovered. "Yeah. Sometimes I wonder if we're just playing whack-a-mole. Shut down one operation, another one pops up somewhere else."
"Aye, but that's the job, isn't it?" McKenzie replied philosophically. "We can't stop all of them, but we can make it harder for the next ones."
“I guess.”
“You’re not thinking about Luther Ashford, are you?”
“I try not to.”
As they walked toward the exit, Noah's phone buzzed again. This time it was his neighbor, Ed Baxter.
“Everything okay, Ed?”
“Couldn’t be better. Just wanted to check if you wanted me to bring that moonshine of mine tonight.”
“Maybe leave that for another time,” Noah said, grinning. He’d invited him for a BBQ that evening, a get-together before heading out for camping the day after.
“Suit yourself. By the way, I was wondering if you wanted to join me in September down in Whitehall?”
“What’s there?”
He let out a loud howl on the phone.
