by Katie Reus
With a sense of urgency, Amelia pulled her cell out of her pocket and logged in to one of her work accounting programs.
“What kind of harassment?” Sinclair asked as she searched.
“Vile sexual jokes targeted at specific girls, but only when it was just him and the girl. He cornered a few of them in the freezer but never actually touched anyone or did anything physical. Not that I care about that. As soon as the first girl came to me, I fired him. After that more girls came forward.” She’d had a staff meeting after that, making it clear to everyone that they could come to her about anything. She wouldn’t put up with that kind of crap. Ever.
“Here.” She held out her phone, let Sinclair copy down all the information. “Can I talk to Jonas?” she asked when he finished.
“No, not yet at least. We’ve got to take him to the station and take his official statement.”
“Oh, right.” She watched enough TV that she knew significant others were often suspects. Jonas just looked worried and panicked to Amelia, but he could be acting for all she knew.
“Is there anything I can do?” She wanted to help in any way she could. Right now she felt so damn helpless. God, the thought of sweet Tessa being taken . . . It didn’t matter if this was related to the other case or not; she wanted Tessa found alive and unharmed.
“Yeah, give me a list of any of her friends from work, anyone she’s had an issue with, names, phone numbers, her work schedule. Basically anything you know about her that you think will be helpful. You can do it here or down at the station.”
“Here’s fine. Do you have something I can write on?”
“Yeah, just give me a sec.” He turned, waved at the officer talking to Jonas, and called the man over.
It didn’t take long for them to set her up with a pad and paper. She called both restaurants to let them know she likely wouldn’t be by for a while and then let Sylvia know to find people to cover Tessa’s shifts for the near future. She didn’t give any other details, though, knowing the police wouldn’t want her to. They’d probably want to question everyone who’d worked with Tessa.
As she jotted down names and phone numbers, she pushed back the nausea swirling inside her. It was hard not to think of the worst-case scenario in a situation like this. And she desperately wanted to call Nathan. She wasn’t sure if Sinclair had done so already, but if the FBI was on this case, it stood to reason he’d have contacted them about it.
Just in case they hadn’t, she decided to call Nathan too. Okay, she called complete and total bullshit on herself. She contacted him because she was desperate to hear his voice. She wanted to at least establish communication after last night because she wasn’t sure when or if he’d call her.
He picked up on the second ring, his voice clipped. “Yeah.”
Okay, then. Her stomach knotted, but she pushed all that crap back. Right now wasn’t about her. “Tessa Hall, a girl who works for me, has gone missing. The police are involved. I’m at her house with Detective Sinclair right now. I don’t know if it’s related to your case and I have no idea if she’s ever been to Maria’s center, but I wanted to let you know.”
He cursed quietly. “Thanks for letting me know. My boss might already be aware, but I’ll pass the info on, make sure we coordinate with the Miami PD.”
She didn’t know how to respond as an awkward silence stretched between them. Sitting in the passenger seat of Sinclair’s Explorer, she stared blindly out the window. She didn’t want to give up Nathan without a fight. “Will you come see me tonight?”
He paused so long she wasn’t sure he’d respond. “If I can.”
Way too much relief slid through her veins. The cowardly part of her told her she shouldn’t have opened herself up to him, shouldn’t have been honest, because she’d known this would happen. Hell, she was surprised he was even thinking about coming over. “Okay.”
Once they disconnected, she got out of the vehicle, feeling even crappier than this morning. He was probably just coming over so he could officially tell her he never wanted to see her again. He’d had time to think about it now and it was clear from his tone he hadn’t wanted to talk to her.
“Are you done?” Sinclair asked as he approached her.
“Yeah. I left the info on the passenger seat.”
He nodded once. “Good. If you think of anything else, contact me immediately. And I’m going to want to talk to your staff, but don’t mention anything to anyone yet.”
“I’ve covered Tessa’s shifts, but I haven’t said why and I won’t. And I’ll definitely call you if I think of something.” She wanted Tessa found.
When she pulled away from the curb, she contemplated going home or back to the restaurant. It took her only a moment to decide on work. It would keep her busy. She could catch up on more paperwork. Unfortunately she’d have to field questions about Tessa’s absence; that was inevitable. But the thought of going home, being alone, was too damn depressing.
All her friends worked during the day, so it wasn’t as if she could call someone up either. Not only that, but she hadn’t told anyone about what she’d gone through when she was seventeen. It was part of her past and she wanted it to stay that way. Now she wished she had someone to at least talk to. She contemplated reaching out to Maria, but her husband was friends with Nathan. That would be too weird.
By the time she reached the street to Plátanos Maduros, her stomach was even more twisted up. At least the parking lot was full, she saw, as she neared the turnoff.
Oh yeah, she’d be busy. She slid her hand down the steering wheel, ready to flip her turn signal on, when her Jeep jerked forward under an intense impact. Her head snapped forward, all the muscles in her body tightening. She flicked her gaze to the rearview mirror.
What the—
A truck slammed into her again, her vehicle shuddering as she gripped the wheel tightly. Not again.
Panic exploded inside her when she saw two women carrying shopping bags stepping out into the street in front of her. They weren’t paying attention.
Without pause she yanked the wheel hard to the right, jumping onto the sidewalk to avoid hitting them. She heard screaming but couldn’t look back as she maneuvered down the sidewalk, her Jeep tearing up the outlying grass. The outer sidewalk lined a parking lot, so there weren’t any direct shops on it, but there were poles and freaking palm trees she couldn’t maneuver around.
She looked in the rearview mirror again to see the same vehicle behind her on the sidewalk now. Shit! In front of her was a bus stop and to the right was a line of palm trees. She barely had time to decide which impact would suck less when the truck rammed her again.
Her Jeep jerked forward, the crunching sound of metal filling the air as her vehicle careened toward the empty bus stop. Barely in control, she yanked the wheel sharply so that the passenger side would take the impact.
Her muscles tightened as she braced for the impact.
Chapter 14
Analysts: people who take raw information from HUMINT, OSINT, etc., and draw conclusions by assessing its significance and by collating it with other information.
Nathan nodded once at an agent he recognized but hadn’t seen in a while as he strode down the quiet corridor of the NSA building. He’d already gone through multiple layers of security including more than one biometric scan just to get to this floor. He’d also been very careful not to be followed on the way over. It was impossible to know for certain, but he’d changed vehicles enough times and had gotten on the Metromover.
Twice.
He was new to the undercover part of his job but he knew that this op wasn’t typical. On most of the ops agents got sent on, when they went undercover they might not have contact with Burkhart or anyone for weeks at a time. And even then it was usually via phone or e-mail. But this was a time-sensitive case. He wasn’t infiltrating an organization; he was simply sliding on a persona to question suspected criminals. The meeting this morning had been a bust, unfortunately, he thought as he reached the h
alfway-open door to Burkhart’s office. Well, one of them.
His boss had an office that was attached to their main command center in Miami, but this was another office he also used. Nathan wasn’t sure why he had two in this building and he wasn’t going to ask why. Though he guessed it gave Burkhart privacy when he needed to work with little to no interruptions.
Burkhart was on the phone but held up a hand and motioned for him to enter.
“Call me with updates,” he said before setting his cell on the desk. “The meeting?” he asked by way of greeting.
“He’s a criminal, mainly into low-level arms dealing. Seemed as if he’d be open to moving drugs, but when I mentioned moving people he shut me down. Got offended.” Which was amusing in a fucked-up sort of way. Even criminals had codes they followed. Or at least a loose set of morals.
“What’s your gut say?”
“He’s not involved. From what we’ve found, his business is solid, and when I talked about moving heroin through his territory he was contemplative but didn’t jump at it. He’s doing well and if I had to guess, from his standpoint, he’ll just bring more heat on himself if he gets involved with me. I think he didn’t want to risk offending me, but he doesn’t want to do business. He’s making good bank per month and he’s happy with his income.”
“Yeah, that’s what Elliott and Karen said too.”
“Do the locals have any thoughts on him?” Nathan asked.
“Captain Nieto doesn’t think he’s involved either. I’m marking him off our list. We’ve taken three of the main suspects off so far.”
It was progress at least. “How many more bodies did they find?” He could have called Elliott or Karen or anyone working the case, but since Nathan had known he was coming here, he had decided to hold off and find out from Burkhart.
“Three. They’re still slowly moving all of the remains, but there are thirty-nine total.” Burkhart’s jaw clenched. “And every one in our custody gave birth before they died. Miami PD is finding the same thing.”
Nausea rolled inside Nathan. “I can head back to the lake.” He wanted to help, and after the undercover work he’d been doing, he found he liked doing stealth ops and hands-on work more. It was a startling thing to discover about himself. Months before the explosion, when Burkhart offered him more undercover work, he’d jumped at it, had thought he’d love it. Now . . . he wasn’t so certain.
Seeing Amelia again had disrupted his life in more ways than one. He’d started to allow himself to imagine what it would be like if they started a real relationship. If they did he wouldn’t do undercover work anymore. That thought alone should have disturbed him, but it didn’t. He . . . cared for her. More than simply cared for her, but he wouldn’t even think the words. Forgiving her wasn’t the issue. It was about trust.
Which, maybe he didn’t have a leg to stand on, but at least the things he couldn’t tell her were because of national security. It was hard to swallow that she hadn’t trusted him enough. Or maybe . . . she just hadn’t loved him enough. He didn’t know if that was his bullshit pride or what. But he’d loved her with everything he’d had, had known almost from the start, even at age seventeen, that he’d never meet anyone else like her. Over the years he’d wondered if he’d built up that attraction, that pull to her, but no such luck. So yeah, it stung that she hadn’t trusted him enough to be there for her.
For them.
Burkhart shook his head. “I want you to set up a meet with another of our suspects.”
Nathan nodded.
“Selene arrives tonight and has already set up a meet with Lopez. You’re going with her tomorrow morning.”
He nodded again. He’d be so busy with this case he wouldn’t have time to obsess over Amelia. Right. He never stopped obsessing over her.
“Why’d you get back to your place so late last night—this morning?” Burkhart asked abruptly, his expression completely neutral.
This unexpected shift in topic was intentional. His boss clearly wanted to throw him off his game. Surprised by the question, Nathan kept his face just as passive. “You’re having me followed?”
Burkhart sat back in his chair, his bright green eyes shrewd as ever. “No. When you key in the security code it’s filed in the log. After you left the lab last night, it shouldn’t have taken you long to get back to Miguel’s place.”
God, he just wanted to bury his alias. “I don’t hear a question in there.”
“You went to Amelia’s.” Also not a question.
No need to lie. “Yes.”
“How involved with her are you?” Clearly he knew Nathan was involved in the first place. Not just friends with her as he’d alluded to.
Apparently Nathan hadn’t been as stealth as he’d assumed. He didn’t think Cade, Dax, or Elliott had said anything, but he couldn’t know for sure.
“I don’t know.” Which was at least the truth. He had no idea what was going on between him and Amelia. He’d had a lot of time to think last night, and while he was pissed she hadn’t trusted him, he didn’t know how he could hold something against a seventeen-year-old girl who’d been in a lot of pain. The regret and agony on her face had been real; her apology had been raw and sincere. She’d clearly suffered as much as he had and she’d never had a solid family base like him. She’d had no one because her mother didn’t count. He still cared for Amelia, had never stopped. Hell, he more than just cared for her. But he had no idea what their relationship was. Or if they could have one.
“She’s been a help to us and we’re going to need her inside Mercado’s place again. Soon. We need to eliminate him or go after him hard. More women could go missing.”
Nathan was going to go back to the part about Amelia infiltrating Mercado’s again in a second, but for now . . . “I haven’t had a chance to talk to the team. Do they think Tessa Hall is another victim?”
Burkhart’s lips tightened for a moment. “She doesn’t fit the socioeconomic profile, but she does fit the age group and she’s an orphan. No parents, so she’s technically alone in the world. And she’s got a link to Amelia, which is a loose thread.”
“No tie to the center?”
“Not directly, but she volunteered there when she was in high school as part of her community service credits.”
Another connection to the center. “I’m guessing high school wasn’t that long ago for her.” Amelia had told him she was the hostess he’d briefly met, and she’d looked like a kid.
“It wasn’t.”
So there was a tie. It had to be the center. “Have Elliott or Karen found a link to the center yet?”
“Not yet, but they’re ripping apart the online movements of everyone who works there. Maria’s been a big help getting us info.”
Good. Because his gut told him the center was the link. There were more missing women connected to the center. Maria had been the one to send the women to Amelia’s restaurants. It wasn’t as though Amelia had recruited them. Everything seemed to go back to that damn center. “Do you want me to talk to Amelia about getting another date with Mercado? I know he’s called her since Sunday.” Which was damn annoying even if it was good for the op. Not that Nathan could blame the guy for wanting to see Amelia again.
Sighing, Burkhart nodded and picked up a slim manila file from a mesh basket on his desk. He slid it across the desk. “She needs a date with him asap. Hell, tonight if possible. I want you to look at this, though. It’s not the end of the world, but your girl got her start in business via . . . shady means. Thought you should know.”
“I read her file.” He knew she’d been suspected of borrowing money from loan sharks. Which wasn’t something that even pinged on his radar. So what if she’d borrowed money from criminals? She’d have paid it back or she wouldn’t be in business.
“I had Karen dig a little more. It’s not just suspected, it’s confirmed. I don’t give a shit about what she did as long as she helps us now. Read it, do what you want with the knowledge.”
&nb
sp; Nathan realized his boss was giving him this information and it had nothing to do with work. Burkhart was just looking out for him. “Thanks, I will.”
“I’m headed down to the command center. Come with me. You can—”
His cell phone rang, cutting him off. Burkhart didn’t pause but answered immediately. “Burkhart here.”
Nathan listened to half the conversation, which was mainly grunts and one-word answers. He jolted at the concerned look his boss shot him as he ended the call. Burkhart didn’t do concern. “What is it?” Nathan asked.
“That was Captain Nieto. Amelia’s been in an accident.”
Amelia wanted to swat the paramedic’s hand away as he shone a small flashlight in her eyes, but she knew he was just doing his job. She was sitting at the back of the ambulance with the doors propped open. Her heartbeat was still a little erratic and she was afraid she’d never stop shaking, but she was alive.
Sore, but alive, with no broken bones. Her chest ached from the airbag impact, but it could have been so much worse.
Whoever had run her off the road had fled, thanks to a handful of Good Samaritans. The two women she’d avoided running over saw the whole thing and ran to her rescue immediately. A few customers from her restaurant’s parking lot had also come to her aid, scaring the driver off.
She wasn’t certain, but she thought one of the women had gotten a license plate. One of them had said something about it, but everything had been a blur with the police and paramedics showing up. She really, really wished it hadn’t happened in front of her restaurant, but whatever, she was alive.
That was what mattered.
“Amelia!” Her heart jumped at the sound of a male voice calling her name. When she turned and saw Sinclair striding her way, that small spark of hope was snuffed out. She felt immediately stupid for hoping it had been Nathan. It wasn’t as if she’d freaking called him, so how would he even know? And she definitely wasn’t calling him. She didn’t want him coming over here out of pity or duty or any combination of reasons.