Tough Justice Box Set
Page 26
He’d worked undercover before, and he knew it was no picnic, but something else had gone on during Lara’s assignment—and as her partner, he needed to know what.
He had a midnight flight back to New York and spent the rest of the afternoon in Decatur arranging the details of Olivia’s transfer to Chicago. She might even make it there before he did on his commuter flight.
His phone died on the way to Chicago, and for once he was glad for the two-hour layover until his next flight to New York. He grabbed a sandwich and a bottled iced tea and then slumped in a plastic chair as he plugged in his phone.
As soon as his phone came to life, several texts buzzed through along with a call. He checked the display.
Victoria. Maybe they’d found Anna—hopefully safe and sound. His heart banged in his chest as he answered the call. “Good news?”
“Depends on your definition of good.”
Nick released a breath. It didn’t sound like they’d found Anna, but it didn’t sound like they’d found her murdered, either. “What’s up, boss?”
“Olivia Conner?”
“What happened? Is the deal off?”
“You could say that. Olivia Conner is dead.”
CHAPTER NINE
Lara slid a sideways glance at Nick in the corner, arms crossed, jaw tight, as Victoria X’d out Olivia Conner’s name on the whiteboard.
Since he’d returned from Decatur early that morning he seemed to have a hard shell encasing him and a wary look in his eye. She didn’t believe for a minute he’d been disturbed by Olivia’s murder, even though he’d worked out a deal with her.
So, what had caused the attitude? Something Olivia told him? Something Olivia had told him about her?
Ty leaned against the table, bracing his hands on the edge behind him. “How did the news that Olivia was ready to talk get out so fast?”
“Maybe the Moretti syndicate has people on the inside.” Mei took a sip from her to-go cup of coffee. “She’d barely gotten settled in before she was killed.”
“Olivia should’ve never been in with the gen pop, anyway. We’d arranged for a secure holding area.” Victoria traced over the red X across Olivia’s name.
Xander turned to Nick. “Do you think it was someone in Decatur who got the heads-up that she was being transferred, put two and two together and contacted Moretti?”
“Could be. I had my doubts she would go through with the deal. Maybe she planned to play us.”
“Really?” Lara rose from her chair and circled the room, her hands clasped behind her. “Why do you say that?”
“Olivia Conner was half in love with Moretti.” Nick skewered her with his dark gaze. “I guess he has that effect on women, huh?”
Lara battled the blush threatening her cheeks and won, but it didn’t stop the sick feeling churning in her stomach.
“Maybe there’s someone on the outside planning to pick up where Olivia left off and wanted to make sure she didn’t get all those special meetings with her attorney and get released. If there is someone on the outside doing Moretti’s bidding, where do we start?” Ty grabbed his jacket and crooked a finger at Mei. “Mei and I have another lead to track down.” Ty pointed at Xander. “You have any ideas?”
“I have an idea.” Victoria held up her marker. “We—and by we, I mean Cass—need to check connections among Moretti’s trafficking victims.”
Lara snapped her fingers. “Even the victims who disappeared after the bust to God knows where, those we found dead and marked and the ones we rescued from that underground sex warehouse.”
Mei hunched her shoulders and hugged herself, crossing her arms across her stomach. “The idea of that place makes me feel physically ill.”
Ty rubbed a circle on his partner’s back. “We have to get on that lead now, anyway. Let’s get you some fresh air.”
Cass took off her glasses and twirled them by one arm. “Did you know about that, that...place, Lara?”
“The warehouse?” A sick taste invaded Lara’s mouth, and she gulped from a bottle of water. “I wasn’t high level enough. That was Olivia’s purview and—you gotta give the woman props for her instincts—she never trusted me much.”
“That was obvious.” Nick ran a hand through his dark hair. “She had the nerve to call you a bitch.”
“Whatever. My point is, it was a madhouse during that bust. Something could’ve been overlooked—a name or a description. It wouldn’t hurt to go back through those interviews from the takedown.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Victoria tapped the end of the marker against her chin. “Anything could’ve been missed in the confusion. Cass, get to work with your flying fingers and let us know if you get any hits.”
“I’m on it.”
“Okay, let’s do it, people.” Victoria clapped her hands. “Everyone else know what their assignments are for this morning?”
Lara sidled next to Victoria and raised her eyebrows. “And what’s your assignment for the day? I think you need to go home and rest.”
“I can’t rest until my baby’s home.” Victoria closed her eyes and massaged the back of her neck for a second before charging from the room for her next meeting with the FDNY about the club.
“See ya. I’m interviewing a couple of employees from Chelsea Place.” Xander held up a hand on his way out while texting on his phone with the other.
“How about you, Nick? Lara asked. “Do you want to meet up for lunch later?”
“My follow-up on Olivia’s murder is going to take me all day. Sorry. I’ll take a rain check.”
“Rain check. Right.”
When the door closed behind him, Lara blew out a breath and turned toward Cass, clicking away on her keyboard, seemingly oblivious to her tense exchange with Nick. Or maybe not.
She sauntered toward Cass and hovered behind her, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Are you okay with this, Cass? You’ve been awfully quiet the past few days.”
Cass’s muscle tightened beneath Lara’s fingers. “I’m good. This is my job.”
“I know it’s your job.” Lara pulled up a chair. “But this is sensitive material for you.”
“It’s sensitive material for Victoria, too.” She peered at Lara over the top of her glasses. “And yet, she’s out there every day, pounding the streets, looking for Anna...even if she’s afraid of what she might find.”
“I know. The woman is incredibly strong.”
“Are you implying I’m not?”
“Not at all.” Lara sliced a hand through the air. “You’re tough. You’ve suffered a painful loss, and yet here you are, tapping away at your keyboard, looking at Moretti’s trafficking victims, for God’s sake.”
Cass sighed. “It is what it is. I thought this nightmare was over when we nabbed Moretti and his commanders, but it seems like it’ll never be over.”
“It will be. We’ll get Anna back, we’ll find out who’s behind the rest of it. We will. We’ve got the best of the best on this team, including you.”
“I’m not sorry she’s dead.”
Lara jerked back. That came out of nowhere, and of course, Cass meant Olivia Conner. “I’m not sorry, either.”
“A-and I don’t feel guilty.” Cass licked her lips. “I mean, I don’t feel guilty for being glad Olivia’s dead.”
“Why should you? The woman was evil.”
Cass rounded on Lara and grabbed both of her hands. “It’s good to want justice, isn’t it? Justice for Allie? For all the others? That’s all I want. Justice.”
“We all do, Cass. And we’re going to get it—one way or the other.” Lara dragged her laptop next to Cass’s. “I’m not going to let you do this alone.”
Cass’s eyes widened behind her glasses. “Don’t you have another assignment?”
“Nothing I can’t get to later.” She logged in and brought up their database on the victims. The same sad faces stared out at her that were collected in Olivia Conner’s file, but this database included the in
terviews they’d done with the victims when the team had released them from the sex warehouse.
Lara had never read the original interviews, only a report someone had compiled. She gritted her teeth and braced herself for the worst.
Leaning over Cass’s shoulder, she asked, “How far have you gotten?”
“I’m on the Cs.”
So, she’d already done Katya Auerman. Maybe Cass already knew everything there was to know about Katya since they seemed to be friends.
“I’ll work from the other end and start with the Zs.” Lara scrolled down to the bottom of the page and clicked on her first victim.
They worked side by side for almost an hour, and then Cass yawned and stretched. “Do you want some coffee?”
Lara glanced at the time on the edge of her display. “It’s diet soda time, now. Where’s James when you need him?”
“I’ll get you one. I need a short break, anyway.”
Lara flicked a finger at her screen. “This is tough stuff to get through.”
“I’ve read it all before. I know those women’s faces as well as I know my own.” She pushed back from the table and stretched again.
“Get me that soda, and I’ll finish out the Ps and leave the rest for you.”
“Deal.” Cass left the room, locking the door behind her.
Lara moved her mouse to the next name. “What’s your story, Colleen Pulcini?”
Thank God, Colleen’s story was short, if not particularly sweet. She’d been held fewer than four months before the bust set her free. Lara closed her eyes. Releasing those women from their torment had been worth the months she’d spent undercover with Moretti’s organization. Worth every drop of blood, sweat and tears.
She closed out Colleen’s file and clicked on the next one. A pretty African-American girl with a bruise on her cheek and a haunted look in her eyes popped up on the screen—Price, Latanya.
Running her finger down the monitor, Lara’s tired eyes scanned the text of the interview. One of the agents from the Chicago office had debriefed her.
The electronic lock beeped, and Lara glanced up at Cass coming through the door, a can of soda in each hand.
“I snagged these from the fridge in the lunchroom downstairs. The vending machine was out of order.”
“Thanks, Cass. Do I owe you anything?”
“No.” Cass placed the soda on the desk next to Lara’s laptop. “I said snag, but I really meant stole. That bunch downstairs takes up a collection to stock the fridge with drinks and snacks.”
Lara clicked her tongue. “You’d never pass a background check or lie detector.”
Cass dropped her soda and bent over to pick it up. She straightened up, her cheeks flushed. “Really? I know a tech guy down there. I can make a contribution to their kitty.”
“A workplace romance in the air?” Lara winked broadly at her.
Cass didn’t even crack a smile. “He’s married.”
“I’m just teasing.” She’d wanted to lighten the mood in the room, but she probably should’ve gone with a knock-knock joke. She snapped open her soda and raised it to Cass. “Thanks...and I’ll never tell.”
Cass sat down behind her computer, not even acknowledging her.
Lara bit her lip. She’d just shut up now.
She murmured to herself. “Back to you, Latanya.”
As she read through the rest of the interview with Latanya, her heart began to pound in her chest, rattling her rib cage. “Cass?”
“Uh-huh?”
“I think we might have something here. Do you remember one of the victims, Latanya Price?”
“The name rings a bell.”
“During her debrief she said something I’m not sure we followed up on.”
Cass stopped tapping on her keyboard. “What?”
“She said she interacted with some of the women being held and knew the others by their voices, even though she hadn’t seen them all because they were kept in different rooms.”
“Yeah, we knew that.”
Because that’s how Katya must’ve known Allie.
“When we moved in to take down the place and released the women, Latanya did a head count and the numbers didn’t match.”
“What does that mean, the numbers didn’t match?”
“There was an extra victim. Latanya couldn’t tell who it was because she didn’t know all of the women by sight, but she had a number in her head from her interactions, and there was one more victim.” Lara smacked the table. “She could be someone on the outside now, someone assisting Moretti.”
“Whoa.” Cass shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “That’s a leap. How can this woman even be sure? There was a lot of turmoil going on during the bust.”
“True, but this is someone who took the time to count the captives and then took the time to count them again to make sure they’d all gotten out. Better yet... Latanya lives in New York now.”
“I don’t know, Lara. You’re putting a lot of faith in a woman who’d been traumatized and tortured.”
“Maybe, but hell, you should know by now how much investigative work relies on luck.” She plucked her cell phone from her pocket. “And I’m feeling lucky. God knows, it’s about time.”
“You’re going to talk to her?”
“Why not? She may have remembered something since then. Olivia Conner’s right-hand woman could’ve been there posing as a victim, and slipped out right under our noses. After the fire at the club last night, that seems even more possible now. Hiding in plain sight.” She tapped Latanya’s number into her phone. “Voice mail.”
She left Latanya a message and her cell number to call back, and then she grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair. “I’m going to head out and track down those other leads Victoria assigned me earlier, and with any luck, Latanya will give me a ring.”
“Thanks for your help, Lara. I hope it pans out with Latanya because I’m not getting anything.”
“Work it down to the O’s, and we can say we gave it our best shot. I’m counting on Lady Luck.” She crossed her fingers as she headed out the door.
* * *
One hour and one disappointing interview later, Lara’s phone buzzed in her cup holder. Nick had left her the car as he was spending the afternoon in a teleconference with the officials regarding the murder of Olivia Conner.
Using her Bluetooth, she answered the call. “Special Agent Grant.”
“Agent Grant? This is Latanya Price. You called me about the Moretti stuff.”
“Thanks for returning my call, Latanya, and you can call me Lara. I want to talk to you about your statement to the FBI regarding your belief that there was one more victim than there should’ve been during the bust.”
“Yeah, I told that young fed with the designer threads, but I don’t think he was listening to me, or he didn’t believe me. I was a sex slave. I’m not stupid.”
“Nobody thinks you’re stupid.”
From Latanya’s description of the agent, Lara recognized Brent Rocha. If Brent had a fault behind those chiseled good looks of his, it was his impatience. If something didn’t fit his narrative, he’d dismiss it too quickly.
And the idea that a perp could’ve been using the chaos of the bust to slip out hadn’t occurred to the other arresting agents. They’d just been so pumped to slap the cuffs on Olivia, maybe they didn’t take a look at the bigger picture.
“Can we meet, Latanya? Your address has you in New York now. Do you still live in the city?”
“East Village, but if it’s okay with you, can we meet in a public place? No offense, but I don’t need my neighbors poking into my business and asking why I’ve got the law visiting me.”
Katya lived in the East Village, too. Did she know Latanya? Maybe Katya had reached out to Latanya like she’d reached out to Cass.
“No offense taken, Latanya. Name a place, and I’ll head over there right now.” Lara pulled over to a red curb as a cabbie laid on his horn. She waved him
past.
“Do you know Tompkins Square? It’s on A between Seventh and Tenth.”
“How will I know you? That’s a pretty big park.”
“There’s a fountain near A and Ninth. I’ll be waiting there for you.”
“I’m in a car. Give me about fifteen minutes.”
Lara wheeled back into the line of cars and headed south. She crept along the edge of the park in bumper-to-bumper traffic until she spotted a service entrance to the park off of Avenue A. Unless she was blocking access to a fire lane, she could get away with parking the government car without getting a ticket. She swung into a space near a dumpster.
Adjusting the weapon at her hip, she reached into the backseat to grab her jacket. The low heels of her boots crunched the gravel as she stepped out of the car and slammed the door.
Following a path into the park, she checked her phone. Nothing from nobody. Maybe she’d be the one to hit pay dirt today. If Olivia’s right-hand woman in trafficking escaped the bust, she might be the one behind everything, including Olivia’s murder, if she didn’t want her former boss getting out and mucking up her new organization.
Feeling more energized than she had in days, Lara strolled into the park, past some skateboarders and a few old men playing chess.
A statue with Greek columns rose in the distance with a woman on the top of it and another structure inside the dome. That had to be the fountain. As she drew closer, she saw the fountain inside the columns and a few people scattered on the benches ringing the sculpture.
A young African-American woman slouched on one of the benches, peering at her cell phone. She glanced up as Lara approached and waved.
Lara walked up to her and extended her hand. “Latanya? I’m Lara.”
Latanya gave her a limp shake. “I heard she died.”
“Who?”
“You know who. That bitch who’d been holding us—Olivia Conner.”
“You heard that already? She just died yesterday.”
“Word gets out. Shanked in prison. Must be some badass bitches in there.”
“Olivia was a badass bitch herself.”
“There’s always someone higher on the food chain.” Latanya glanced at her phone as it buzzed in her hand. “Is that why you called me?”