by BIBA PEARCE
“No, but let’s keep looking.” He glanced back toward the hallway. “Hang on a minute.”
“What?”
“Does this kitchen look smaller to you on the inside, than it does on the outside?”
Ryan bit her lip. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
Reid charged outside and surveyed the house from the front. It was symmetrical on both sides, with the door in the middle, but inside, the kitchen was the only room on the right.
“There’s a room missing,” he hissed. They began knocking against walls and opening cupboards until Reid grunted. “I think I’ve found it.”
At the back of a store cupboard, behind a stack of boxes, was a trap door.
“Oh my gosh,” whispered Ryan. “Do you think he’s in there?”
Reid tried the door, it was locked. Bolted from the inside.
“Jonny!” he yelled.
His colleague came running. “What’s up?”
“I need your help with this.” Together, they managed to kick it in. Ryan was covering them with her gun drawn. Once the dust settled, they peered into the darkness.
“See anything?” whispered Ryan, her voice shaky.
“No. I’m going in.” He aimed his handgun into the opening. There was no response from inside, so he carefully stepped through. Then he froze.
“Jesus Christ.”
“What?” whispered Jonny, stepping in behind him. There were no windows, but enough light fed in from the kitchen for them to make out the layout of the room.
“Jonny, the light.”
Jonny turned around and found a light switch. He pressed it and the room lit up.
“Holy shit,” he breathed.
They stared at the hidden room. The floor was bare concrete, as were the walls, and a naked bulb hung from the ceiling. There was nothing in it except for a filthy mattress stained with what he could only surmise was blood and God-only-knew what else. Bolted to the floor at all four corners were chains complete with leg and wrist irons.
He’d never seen anything so disturbing.
“It’s a real torture chamber,” whispered Ryan, who’d followed them in.
“There’s a second room.” Reid gestured ahead. “He could be in there.”
“Easy,” warned Jonny, as they took up positions on either side of the door. Ryan got down on one knee and covered them.
Gingerly, Reid turned the handle and opened the door.
A voice said, “Drop the gun.”
37
“What happened next?”
Kenzie sat cross-legged on the sofa, watching Reid as he retold the story of how they’d caught the Swamp Strangler.
“I froze, of course,” he said, his dark brown eyes intense. “The guy had a 9 millimeter, and he was pointing it right at me. I put my gun on the floor and kept my hands up. I thought he was going to take a shot at me, but he didn’t. He was more concerned with getting away.”
Kenzie hung on to every word.
“He forced us back out into the kitchen, then ran back into the second room. “It was a sort of den with a desk and a laptop, and an armchair in the corner.”
“Do you think he sat there and listened to them beg for their lives?” Kenzie whispered.
“God only knows. That place was appalling. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
She cringed. “Those poor girls. What they must have endured.”
Reid scowled. “Yeah, well, he’s in custody now.”
“How did you get him?” she asked.
“There was a high window that he’d smashed to get out of. He’d moved the desk beneath it and was climbing out when we barged in. Ryan ran outside and called the tactical team surrounding the property and they nabbed him as he wriggled out.”
“Thank goodness.” Kenzie exhaled under. “That man needs to be locked up for the rest of his life for what he did.”
“He will,” Reid promised. “We’ve got enough evidence in that torture chamber to put him away for multiple life sentences. The CSI guys said there was enough DNA to keep them busy for a month.”
“That’s awful. He could have had countless victims down there. Not just the three girls we know about.”
“Exactly, and if he did, we’ll go for the maximum charge for all of them.”
“That’s good.” She nodded, then smiled at him. “And I’m glad you’re okay. You could have been shot.”
“Were you worried about me?”
She flushed. “We should celebrate. You’ve caught the Swamp Strangler. That deserves a couple of beers at least.”
He laughed, letting her off the hook. “Okay, great idea.”
She got two cold ones out of the fridge, and Reid opened them.
“Cheers,” he said. “Here’s to catching the bad guys.”
“Cheers.”
They each took a swig.
“So, about that article.” A smile played on Kenzie’s lips.
“Yes.” He drew out the word.
“You said as soon as you caught him, I could have an exclusive.”
“I remember.”
“This qualifies, right? He’s definitely the guy.”
“It certainly looks that way,” Reid said. “Although, I’d prefer it if you waited until the DNA results came back before you went to print. Just in case there’s nothing there.”
“How could there be nothing there? You said the place was covered in DNA!”
“I know, but I like being sure.”
Kenzie couldn’t wait any longer. News of the find at Halston’s house was going to come out. Questions would be asked. How long would it take before some other savvy journalist linked it to the Swamp Strangler?
“I’ll write it up and you can take a look once I’m done. How’s that?”
“I can live with that.”
“Can I mention your name?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
She studied him for a long moment. “Okay. I won't if you don't want me to. I’ll say it was the Miami PD task force led by Jonny Silva.”
Reid nodded. “Much better.”
“You don’t like people praising you, do you?” She tilted her head.
“It was a team effort.”
“Fine. Have it your way.”
“How’s that bump on your head?” he asked. Kenzie knew he was changing the subject, but she allowed it. He wasn’t the type of guy who relished being the hero of the hour, even though he usually was.
“Going down.” She touched it. “I feel fine now.”
“I’m glad. Any sign of anything suspicious?”
“Not a thing. I’m sure the danger’s over now.”
“We can’t be sure of anything,” he said. “Natalia’s killer is still out there, and you pissed someone off enough for them to take a swing at you. Until we know who it is, I want you to be careful.”
“Yes, sir.” She gave him a mock salute.
He snorted. “I'm not joking, Kenzie.”
“Are you going to camp out on my couch until we catch whoever did it?” she asked, only half-joking.
He gave her a hard look. “Only if you want me to.”
Yes, she did.
Having him here made her feel safe, but it was more than that. She liked having him around. But it wasn’t fair to keep him here when he had a house of his own. A cabin he hadn’t slept in for two nights now.
“I’ll be fine.” She didn’t meet his eye.
He hesitated. “I’m happy to stay if you’re unsure.”
“No, honestly. I’m fine. I’ll lock all the doors and windows.”
He grunted. “Okay, well call me if you feel uneasy. I don’t mind coming back.”
She fiddled with the label on her beer. “Thanks.”
He was about to leave when his phone buzzed. “Excuse me. I’d better take this.” He turned his back on her and walked to the window. “Garrett.”
She saw the muscles in his neck stiffen, then his shoulders slumped. “Okay, thanks for letting me kn
ow.”
“What’s up?” she asked.
He faced her. “Bella Montague’s vehicle was spotless.”
“What?”
“No sign of Natalia Cruz’s DNA. No hair, no fibers, no nothing.”
“How can that be? We know she took her body to the Glades in that car and dumped her there.”
“If she did, she was very careful,” he said. “Forensics didn’t detect a thing. They said the car had been freshly cleaned as well.”
“Well, that explains it,” Kenzie huffed. “She’s been one step ahead of us this whole time.”
“Maybe it was Bella who attacked you that night at the beach party,” Reid said.
Kenzie frowned. She remembered the whoosh and the feeling of hot air before a thud and the fireworks explosion in her head. But there was something else, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
“Maybe.” She stared into the past, trying to nudge the memory.
“Have you remembered something?” Reid came forward. “Kenzie, what is it?”
“I don’t know. I think I may have seen something, but I can’t remember. It’s just out of reach.”
“Your brain had a shock. Hopefully it’ll come to you as it heals.”
She tried to grasp what it was, but the fragment of memory was gone. “No, it’s gone.”
“We have to release Bella,” he said. “We’ve got nothing to hold her on.”
“If she attacked me, she won’t try again now the police are on to her.”
“I hope you’re right,” Reid murmured.
He left soon after that. Kenzie stood in her living room, feeling his absence. Part of her wanted to call him back, but she didn’t move until she’d heard his car drive off.
She took a deep breath. There was work to be done.
She spent the rest of the evening writing up the article on the Swamp Strangler’s arrest, then she called Keith.
“Kenzie, do you know what time it is?”
“I’ve got something, Keith. It’s big.”
She told him what had happened, and he forgave her in a heartbeat. “We’ll run with it in tomorrow afternoon’s edition,” he said.
That would give her enough time to clear it with Reid.
It was around one o’clock in the morning when she went to bed. She turned off all the lights and double-checked the locks.
A bang outside made her jump.
Relax. She glanced out of the window. It was only the neighbor coming home after an evening out.
She was on edge. Writing the article had freaked her out, too. That torture chamber, the way Reid had described it. She shuddered and double-checked the lock on the front door.
Eventually, she went to bed.
She was safe. There was no reason for Bella to silence her, not now that the police had her on camera. Any suspicions Kenzie might have had were redundant.
Still, it took her a while to fall asleep. She wished Reid were downstairs. Perhaps she should call him.
No, she wasn’t clingy. She was capable of living by herself, of looking after herself. God knows, she’d been doing it long enough.
She eventually settled down and drifted off to sleep.
Kenzie was walking along the sidewalk, waiting for the Uber. She checked her phone. It was a minute away. She felt a whoosh of hot air and smelled something sweet. Heels clicked on the tarmac. Then the pain. Her head exploded in agony. White light flashed behind her eyelids, and she felt herself falling. Then nothing.
She woke up sweating, her heart pounding.
Yes! She’d remembered what it was she couldn’t grasp earlier.
The high heels.
She’d heard the sound of high heels on the sidewalk before the whoosh of hot air as her attacker rushed her. Then the sweet smell. Perfume. Exotic, like magnolia.
Bella’s perfume.
38
“Are you sure?” Reid asked the next morning when Kenzie called to tell him what she’d remembered.
“Yes, that’s what it was. The sound of a woman’s heels on the sidewalk. And perfume. I swear it was her perfume. I remember smelling it on her that first time we interviewed her, and then again at the beach party.”
“Okay, well that’s not enough to file an assault charge, but at least now we have an idea who it was. I’ve got her under surveillance, anyway.”
“For me?”
“Actually no. I wanted to see if she’d lead us to her accomplice.”
“Ah. I see.”
“But we’ll know if she goes anywhere near you.”
“That’s a relief.”
There was a pause.
“I’ve got to go,” Reid said as Pérez marched out of his office, a thunderous expression on his face. “Something’s happened.”
“Okay, I just wanted to say thanks for okaying the article,” Kenzie said.
“No problem. See you later.”
He hung up. They’d reached a compromise on the article. She’d agreed to stick to the facts. They’d arrested a man connected to the murders of the three girls who’d been found in the swamp. She’d described the horrific torture chamber in the secret room and the heroic efforts of the police who’d captured him. A forensic team was collecting evidence and hoped to find DNA from the girls. Natalia Cruz’s murder was not thought to be connected.
She’d even gone to the house and taken some photographs of the police cordon around it and the white-clad forensic technicians going in and out with their big silver cases and evidence bags.
It wouldn’t be long before Pete Halston’s name was connected to the crimes, but they should hear back from the CSI team today. Then they’d know for sure.
“Briefing!” yelled the lieutenant.
The entire department filed in.
“What’s going on?” Jonny asked.
Reid shrugged. “No idea.”
Pérez stood at the front with Ortega. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“David Navarro was shot and killed this morning in a raid on the DEA safe house,” said Pérez.
There was a shocked murmur.
Ortega looked mutinous.
“Four armed men with automatic rifles stormed the property and killed Navarro, along with the two DEA agents guarding him,” continued Pérez.
“The Kings?” asked Reid.
“Most likely. They had the most reason to want him dead. He ratted out their entire organization.”
“We can’t rule out Federico Lopez and the Morales cartel,” said Ortega. “They were supplying them with product.”
“They supply the Warriors too,” said Reid. “I doubt they had anything to do with it.”
“What would you know?” snarled Ortega. “You’ve been hibernating for the last year.”
“That’s enough,” barked Pérez. “The DEA are looking into it. Matt Garcia is the obvious choice. They’ve launched a state-wide manhunt for him. It won’t be long before he’s in custody.”
“Good thing he snitched before you handed him over,” said Jonny.
“Won’t stand up in court,” Ortega growled. “Not without Navarro’s testimony.”
He was right about that. Whatever they had on Matt Garcia and the Kings, it needed to be backed up by witness testimony. It was a bummer, for sure.
Had Lopez been involved? Navarro was no real threat to them. Sure, they supplied the Kings with product, but they supplied several gangs in the Miami area. That was their business. They’d have protocols in place so that the gang bangers never knew more than they needed to. Navarro had admitted he didn’t know where they were based. All he had was an untraceable phone number.
Reid was betting the hit was organized by Garcia. Navarro was his fixer. He set up the deals, arranged the drug deliveries, organized executions. He knew everyone in their organization and he could name names. Taking him out would have been a priority.
“Ortega and his team are working with the DEA to interrogate suspects,” Pérez continued.
Great.
The dickhead would be out of the way for a while.
“We’ve issued a reward for information,” he told them. “There’s a dedicated phone line monitored by the DEA, so if anyone calls the station, transfer it to them.”
Nods all around.
“Okay, that’s it.”
Reid went outside for a breather. He got a coffee from a nearby stall and sat down on a bench overlooking the water. Then he took out his phone.
If Lopez and the cartel had been involved in the shooting, there would have been some activity at the warehouse.
He pulled up the video footage from last night and set it on double speed. The images flew by, blurring into each other. There was nothing until 6:05 am when a car pulled into the warehouse lot. Reid slowed it to real time.
Torres’ Audi.
The operations manager got to work early most days. Reid had been monitoring the feed since he’d put it up. It was always the same routine.
Torres arrived around six, parked outside, and went into the office. The trucks rolled in, the workers arrived, and the roller doors went up.
Equipment was loaded onto the trucks, ticked off on a clipboard by a foreman, and driven away to the dockside where it was used to load and unload containers. This was the legitimate side of the business, and it ran like clockwork.
Today was no different.
There were no unscheduled visits, no surprise meetings, and Torres didn’t leave the warehouse until after two.
The Morales cartel were not part of the hit on David Navarro. Of that, Reid was sure.
Reid got back to the squad room just as Jonny was about to interrogate Pete Halston, the Swamp Strangler.
“Garrett, you coming?” called Pérez.
“Yeah.” He walked over to the screen where they were watching live. Jonny sat opposite Halston and his attorney, a weedy looking man with a hooked nose and glasses.
Jonny started by stating their names for the record. Halston leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on the table in front of him. Loosely clasped. No sign of nerves.
He was good looking in a dark, austere way, with symmetrical features, a strong jawline, and a full head of hair, but his mouth was pulled back in a smirk rather than a smile and his eyes were hard and lacked depth. Reid could see what Stu’s girlfriend, Monica, had meant when she’d said he looked straight through her.