22: Chapter 22 Sources of Funding

Shaun parked the car on the side of St. Ann Street in the French Quarter and turned off the engine.

The "Midnight Owl" cafe was twenty meters ahead, an inconspicuous little shop.

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The storefront was narrow, with an owl wearing a bowtie painted on the sign.

Through the glass window, a few scattered customers could be seen sitting inside; the lighting was dim and the atmosphere was lazy.

Ballard's car was already parked across the street.

Shaun crossed the road and pushed open the door of the cafe.

Ballard was sitting in a window seat with a cup of cold coffee in front of her, holding a file in her hand.

She looked up at Shaun, her gaze carrying a hint of "you're late," but she said nothing.

Shaun sat down opposite her.

The waiter came over, and he ordered a black coffee.

Then, getting straight to the point, he asked, "What did you find?"

Ballard pushed the file in front of him.

"White's credit card records. Over the past two weeks, his spending has been clearly abnormal."

Shaun flipped open the file.

The first page was a breakdown of expenses, filled with dense rows of numbers.

He glanced through it and quickly spotted the problem.

For the past three months, White's credit card spending had been normal.

Supermarkets, gas stations, occasional family dinners—around two to three thousand dollars a month.

But over the past two weeks...

Shaun's pupils constricted.

"Twelve thousand?" He looked up. "He spent twelve thousand in two weeks?"

Ballard nodded.

"More than that," she said. "That's just the credit card. We also checked his bank account."

She pulled another sheet of paper from the file.

"Two weeks ago, fifty thousand dollars in cash deposits suddenly appeared in his account."

Shaun was also startled by what he heard.

"Fifty thousand?"

"Fifty thousand," Ballard repeated. "It was deposited in many separate transactions, each under ten thousand dollars. You know what that means."

Shaun knew.

Cash deposits under ten thousand dollars do not need to be reported to the IRS.

Splitting the deposits was done to evade oversight.

"And the source?"

"Unknown. The technical team is investigating, but the source of cash deposits can't be traced."

"All we can confirm is that this fifty thousand appeared suddenly within two weeks."

Shaun stared at those few lines of numbers, his mind racing.

An ordinary man who had been a police officer for fifteen years, with no inheritance, no lottery win, and no house sale, suddenly had fifty thousand dollars in cash.

And then he started spending big!

What did he buy?

Shaun flipped back to the credit card breakdown page.

Of the twelve thousand in expenses, the bulk was...

"Jewelry?"

"He bought jewelry?"

Ballard nodded and confirmed, "At three different jewelry stores in the French Quarter, totaling over eight thousand."

"The rest of the money went to high-end restaurants, hotel suites, and... a motorcycle. It's second-hand, but it still cost over three thousand."

Shaun looked up at Ballard and asked the soul-searching question, "Was he having an affair?"

This was the most logical explanation.

A middle-aged man suddenly coming into money and spending it rapidly is usually trying to please a woman.

Ballard asked, "What did you find on your end?"

Shaun shook his head. "Nothing much. She just said White had been acting a bit unusual lately, often working overtime and coming home late, but she thought it was just work stress."

"She didn't mention the jewelry or the motorcycle at all."

As Shaun spoke, he recalled what he had just seen at White's house... simple furniture, ordinary decorations, nothing newly added.

Ballard frowned and asked, "That jewelry isn't at the house?"

Shaun replied, "No! If it were, Linda would have mentioned it long ago, unless... she's deliberately hiding something."

Ballard leaned back in her chair.

This was strange.

White stealthily got fifty thousand dollars, stealthily spent over eight thousand on jewelry, and then the jewelry vanished.

Did he give it to someone else?

Or...

The coffee was served.

Shaun took a sip. The bitter taste cleared his head slightly, but he still couldn't untangle the threads.

He remarked, "It seems Officer White had many secrets..."

Before he could finish, Ballard cut in, "But regardless, he's dead."

"This matter... must be investigated thoroughly!"

Ballard was full of conviction, but unfortunately, the clues had temporarily reached a dead end.

Ballard continued planning how to proceed with the case, while Shaun... had no other tasks for the moment.

With some free time now, Shaun felt he should first settle the matters of Frank and Nell.

For one, these two situations had already become connected to him, so they had to be handled.

Secondly...

Shaun had also realized that he likely couldn't escape the White affair. There seemed to be many secrets involved, so he might as well rely on the golden book as soon as possible to learn more skills...

And to learn more skills, he would probably have to get more involved in these matters.

...

Shaun walked out of the cafe and took a deep breath on the sidewalk.

Thinking about it, Shaun didn't want to go back to that manor.

It wasn't that he didn't dare...

Fine, he didn't dare.

Just thinking about that woman, Fiona Goode, and her gaze made Shaun's back go cold.

But what he feared more was that if he barged in again with his identity as a police officer, it would make things even more complicated.

He needed a more personal channel.

Shaun pulled out his phone and found a number.

It was the one Madison had forced on him last night...

Shaun hesitated for three seconds and then pressed the dial button.

The phone rang twice and then connected.

"Shaun?"

Madison's voice came through the receiver, sounding a bit surprised and a bit... unexpected.

Since he had made the call, Shaun didn't hesitate and directly responded, "It's me."

"Wow," Madison's tone immediately became lazy. "We've only been apart for a few hours and you already miss me? Officer Sean, you're making me think you're very easy to get, you know."

Shaun ignored her teasing. "Madison, I want to ask you something."

"Ask me?" Madison laughed. "What can't be said over the phone?"

"Wait... you didn't encounter some supernatural event, did you? Or is it that you miss me but are too embarrassed to say it straight?"

Shaun got straight to the point: "About a missing person."

There was a second of silence on the other end.

Then Madison's voice became less lazy. "Who?"

"An old man. He might have been near your manor."

Madison was silent for a few more seconds.

Shaun could hear some noise in the background on her end... like a TV, or someone talking.

After a few seconds, Madison spoke, "Where are you?"

Shaun immediately replied, "French Quarter, St. Ann Street."

"Twenty minutes," Madison said without hesitation, setting a meeting. "The old place, that apartment building where you parked last night. Do you know where it is?"

Speaking of which... as a police officer, Shaun had driven under the influence yesterday, which was technically breaking the law.

However...

Witches had appeared; who cares about drunk driving!

"I know!"

"Good! Oh, and bring some food. I'm hungry."

After saying that, Madison hung up the phone. She was certainly a decisive person...