Alaskan Magic: Shadows of Alaska Book 1

by CC Dragon

  “A lot of people say that. People lie so much.” She wiped her nose and sniffed.

  “You don’t know who to believe. It’s okay. Just remember there is video rolling on you in this room. I’m going to check on another victim. I’ll be back. If you need anything, knock on the door. There’s someone just outside.” I took my water and my notepad and headed for the door.

  “I’m under arrest?” she asked.

  I shook my head. “No, you’re a victim and a witness. Your statement and testimony are important to put these guys in jail. Now, if you try to leave, please know that we can hold you questioning for up to seventy-two hours without charging you with anything. Cooperate, and we’ll help you safely get back to your aunt and put you in touch with a therapist near there to help you recover. If you walk, we can try and find you, but you’ll be a lot worse off on your own.”

  She nodded and grabbed a tissue from the box. “Thank you.”

  I stepped outside. Green was waiting for me.

  “Good news?” he asked.

  “She’s going to write out her statement first. She’s been with them months, but she’s only my first interview. Anything new?” I asked.

  “The alias used to rent the cabins matches the alias used to rent the big trucks. Those trucks have GPS, and we’re serving a warrant on the owners to get all the data first thing in the morning. Then we can find and connect all the geographic dots.” Green smiled.

  I frowned. “The cabins were a holding place, not a final destination. That’s a lot of women. Where do you think they were ending up?”

  “North maybe. Lots of lonely men working up in the mines and on the ice road. The more remote the job, the fewer women there are up there. Good money though.” Green sighed.

  “You’re right. Prostitution has always been a big problem, but trafficking women, billion-dollar business,” I said.

  Green nodded. “Good work. Find out if the women knew anything about the end of the line, or if they were delivering women all over as they went. They may have made drops in Canada as well.”

  “Okay, I’ll check on the other woman and then circle back. I want in if we have to go north. Don’t think you can leave me and Mitch behind. This is our case,” I said.

  “As long as you two keep playing by the rules. I won’t reward you two going rogue. Don’t go after that guy you were asking about. Stick to procedure. I want convictions on this case, not only saved lives.” Green took a deep breath. “We’re tasked with both in our job.”

  “Indigo might be an alias. He seemed to be the leader. People might be afraid to flip on him,” I said.

  It was lies, but would keep Green suspicious enough to stay on top of Indigo himself.

  “I’m not letting anyone go if I can charge them. He’s an accomplice, if nothing else. Now stop telling me how to do my job and go do yours. These women need sleep. I’ve got a team from a women’s shelter coming with clothing and plans to help house them. The sooner we have the statements, the sooner these women can start to reclaim their lives.” Green pointed to the door with my next interview.

  “Yes, sir.” He was as close to a managerial bureaucrat with a heart as I’d met among humans.

  He was also right. The sooner we got statements, the sooner we had charges. Indigo had to be charged before he got up enough magic to mess with their memories or force an escape. The timing of things was critical, and the longer they left Indigo alone, the worse it might end up for me and these women.

  Not that I expected human jails to ever contain Indigo. He’d escape eventually—and probably come after me.

  Chapter Five

  I knocked and entered the next interview room to find Karen Dunford pacing the space like a caged animal.

  She was also chain smoking, which was not really allowed in Federal buildings.

  “I want to leave,” she said.

  “I understand, but that’s not possible right now. I’m Special Agent Dot Foster. I need to take your statement. We’ll help you get back to your family once we have that. Until you can travel, we’ll make sure you get clothes, food, and a place to stay.” I set down a bottle of water.

  She rolled her eyes. “Indigo promised I’d be safe. He’d take care of me.”

  “How did you meet him?” I sat down and looked her over.

  She was younger with tattoos over her chest and arms. Her hair was short and spiky.

  “A bar in Chicago. He said I looked young and could help him. He’d cut me in and make me rich.” She exhaled a cloud of smoke.

  “You were in on the trafficking?” I asked.

  “He didn’t say anything about moving or relocating all these girls. I thought he was a high-class pimp or something. He said it was an escort service that needed fresh blood. I was young enough to talk to girls on the street, runaways mostly, into a much better deal. It’s not like we grabbed them and threw them into vans. I never did anything like that,” she said.

  “But you lured them into a life where they gave up their phones, identification, and power to make you money. When did you meet Indigo? How long ago?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Those girls would’ve been dead or hooked on drugs in a week. I could spot the newbies and got them before the streets ruined them. Not all were teenagers, by the way, Young women right out of a bad breakup. You could tell who was a mark for something too good to be true.”

  “How long ago?” I asked.

  “A few years. I wasn’t even eighteen myself. But my mom waitressed in a bar, so I could hang around without any issue.”

  “Your mom had no issue with what you were doing?” I asked.

  “Better to be the pimp than the hooker.” Karen smiled.

  I nodded and reviewed her report. “Yet you didn’t have ID or a weapon when you were placed into custody.”

  “I was sort of a den mother. I lived with them, if they needed something—they came to me. If they got sick or whatever, I handled it. They thought I was Indigo’s girl, so I didn’t get touched by another guy. Worked for me.” She smirked.

  “But you and Indigo weren’t really a thing?” I asked.

  “Not romantically, no. He always snuck off to other bars. Not sure what he was doing. Didn’t care. Men are more trouble than they are worth. Money is always worth something.”

  She was confessing far too easily. I sent a magical mist at her to feel out her powers. Nothing. Also, no spells. Clearly whatever magic Indigo had put on her was gone while Indigo was incapacitated. I nudged her a bit for more truth with a touch of my magic.

  “Where is all this money you’ve been making?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Get paid when the job is done. It goes in legs and moving so many here to there. Things got bigger. Now we’re moving women all over. Demand is crazy.”

  “But you’ve been doing this for years. Is your mom holding your cash?” I asked.

  Karen shrugged. “I spend it all as I go and send some home.”

  “You’re not worried about going to jail?” I asked.

  “I’m nineteen. Indigo brought me in as a minor. He groomed me to do what I do and how to do it. Once I realized not all the girls were there voluntarily, it was too late. If I refused, he’d kill me before letting me walk away. It might sound to you like I’ve got a choice, but this life isn’t like that. You get on board with it or die. This life isn’t fair, and we just make the best of it. Or else you end up dead or wishing you were.”

  Her fear was real. “What about your mom?”

  “Sure, she’s still waiting tables. On her feet all day for tips. Letting guys flirt and grope a bit for more tips. She hopes Mr. Right will show up and take her away. I don’t believe in magic or fairytales.” Karen folded her arms.

  “This is a much riskier life that what you mom has,” I warned.

  Grinning, she put her cigarette out on the table. “It is. That’s the only way to win. Big risk, big payout. Indigo tries to screw me, I’ll flip on him. Either way, I got in when I was
a minor. Too young to know better.”

  “You’re smart. Smart enough to find a better way to make a living,” I replied.

  “Better? Maybe. Easier, no. Plenty of women running from bad dads, creepy stepdads, cheating boyfriends, abusive hubbies, or some combination of all that. A lot of women want someone to rescue them, take care of them, and all that crap. We do take care of them and make it very clear what they need to do to earn their keep. They’re not dead. But once they’re out of control, some fight, but most are too afraid. Too powerless. They hope for an out, or that things will get better.” She shrugged.

  “That doesn’t bother you?” I asked.

  “By the time it gets bad, we’ve moved the cargo on. This time, I’ve been stuck with them longer. It’d better be a huge payout for this long of a trip,” she said.

  “Your trip is over. I’m guessing you were headed north.” I made a few notes.

  “Fewer people. Even fewer women. One trooper to cover miles and miles. It’s perfect. Indigo isn’t stupid,” she explained.

  “You’re not wrong. But people in small towns notice things. They notice strangers. How did you think you wouldn’t be caught?” I asked.

  “People see what they want to see. If the men are happier and pretty women come up for whatever—who’ll be mad?” she replied.

  “Are there women there already? Seems like there are a lot of trucks,” I said.

  Karen fumbled with her pack of cigarettes. “Got a light? They took my lighter.”

  “Sorry, no, I don’t smoke. If you give us info to help find the other women, it’ll be points in your favor,” I encouraged.

  “Cutting a deal with me? I bet I won’t even get charged with anything,” she scoffed.

  “You’re probably not going to get paid either. Why make it harder on yourself? Indigo will be charged and do time. We’ll get those women out whether you help or not.” I leaned back and watched her closely.

  “Fine. I’ll give you the address. Some are being held over a bar like a brothel. Others are held in semis to be sold. Easy to move around and hide,” she said.

  I grinned. “Someone lied to you. There are no bars. Alcohol isn’t sold in Deadhorse. I’m assuming you were headed there. Write it all down, and we’ll see what’s true.” I slid a pad and paper over to her.

  There was a knock on the door, and I slipped into the hallway.

  Green and Mitch had serious expressions.

  “I’m getting an address for girls already taken up north,” I said.

  They nodded. “One of the guys flipped. We’ve got a name and an address. If it lines up, we’re all flying north tonight. Pull in some troopers for the raid.”

  “You’re not going to start with surveillance?” I asked.

  Green shook his head. “Too much evidence to wait. It’ll take time and equipment to get enough people up there.”

  “Big group,” Mitch said.

  “Sure, there are a lot of job sites plus the oil fields up there, but that many hookers? Something isn’t right,” I said.

  “Pack and be back here in an hour. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Green said.

  “Yes, sir.” I had to follow orders, but first I had to speak to Zelda. Minding Indigo from the Arctic Circle would be impossible. She’d have to look in on him for me.

  A dozen bush planes landing around a warehouse in Deadhorse would be all over the town in a matter of minutes. We deplaned and reorganized. The only local security was for the oil fields and mines nearby. The only police force was some volunteers. I couldn’t imagine living here, so far from civilization.

  Groups were assembled and weapons checked. Advancing on the warehouse, it appeared abandoned at first. We forced entry, not that anyone objected. Did they lie to us? Was this a wild goose chase?

  I felt people inside, some with powers. Yet no one confronted us or even ran. The rows of metal bunkbeds made it look more like a place to house transient workers than trafficked humans being held prisoner.

  “Wrong warehouse?” Mitch muttered.

  I felt the magical glamor. Indigo wasn’t working alone. His magical connections were up here. “No, something is here. There are people hiding.”

  “They can’t flee the building and hide around up here like they could in Anchorage. They can run, but we’ll find them or the elements will get them. Maybe a polar bear. Building to building if we have to. Not like they can just brave the elements and nothingness for miles,” Green said.

  The North Slope was at the top of Alaska. Remote and filled with animals that would happily feast on your flesh. Conditions were harsh, but if you wanted to make good money, there were jobs up there that paid well. If you wanted to get away from the world, it was good for that too. Tourists would bus up from Fairbanks, but there wasn’t a ton to see beyond Mother Nature’s power.

  Magical groups often made their homes in the pockets of Alaska where humans didn’t settle. I felt the magical beings; their numbers were stronger up here—though they were all over in Alaska. Maybe I’d meet polar bear shifters one day or the rumored Yeti clans.

  But one or two very ordinary witches were too close to hide themselves from me. I went toward a back room. This wasn’t a Native magical group. Whoever was hiding in Deadhorse was connected to this case and far from innocent.

  “That’s the kitchen. They’re not hiding in there,” Mitch argued.

  We entered, and he was right. The huge kitchen was empty. But if I had to hide from persons unknown, I’d do it where there were knives and ways to set people on fire. The best chance at self-defense was probably right here.

  We checked a few pantry closets and found nothing but food storage. Then I heard a rustle that could’ve been the wind. But I had to trust myself. I looked up. “That’s a drop ceiling.”

  One of the tall officers reached up and moved a ceiling tile, and we all heard the whispers and a soft squeal.

  “This is the FBI. Come out with your hands up,” Green shouted.

  They had the drop on us, but the women began to literally fall from the ceiling.

  “Where are your captors?” I asked.

  The girls looked at each other.

  An older woman came out of a lower cabinet. “They ran out the back. They’re making a run for the semis. Stupid.”

  “That’s all they have? The semis? No snow machines?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “That would leave less room for cargo,” she replied.

  I shuddered to think of women as cargo, but that’s exactly what was happening. Even here in the remotest part of Alaska, inside the Arctic Circle where you could still see polar bears in the wild—shifter or not.

  Zelda was right. The world was going to hell. Or was Indigo right? The humans were destroying it. This wasn’t the work of just humans. This was him and his magical friends filled with greed.

  Green looked to troopers. “Organize the women, search for weapons, and secure the warehouse.”

  He led the agents outside. Shots immediately rang out. The men we were searching for hid in the cabs of the semis aiming high powered hunting rifles.

  “No shortage of guns in Alaska.” I aimed and returned fire.

  We all had our sidearms out for an old-fashioned shoot out.

  Then the semis began to move. I could feel the lives.

  “There are still women in there,” I said.

  I shot out a tire, but a semi had a lot of tires.

  Mitch and Green ran forward, shooting at the engines as well as the men.

  Naturally, I had my powers. Controlling nature was one of my strongest, but what I needed now was big. I tapped into my stolen magic and conjured a huge sinkhole. Both front ends of the semis dipped into the hole, thwarting their escape.

  “What the hell was that?” Green asked.

  “Earthquake,” I shrugged. “Or maybe the permafrost just gave?”

  A couple more shots rang out as the semis tilted further into the gaping Earth.

  Mitch fired b
ack and then shouted. Green and I returned fire as well. Mitch was down on the frozen ground, bleeding from his groin, an area not covered by the bulletproof vest.

  “Get help!” I shouted.

  I waved my hand and yanked the guns from the bad guys, throwing them far from the sinkhole. No one noticed my blatant use of inexplicable magic. They were all distracted.

  I rushed over and put pressure on the wound. Magic couldn’t fix this, not my magic anyway. Certainly not when the wound had already been seen clearly. Troopers rushed to secure the semis and another knelt to help me treat Mitch.

  Green was on a local radio since cell towers were spotty to crap this far north.

  “Got a chopper coming in to take him to the nearest hospital,” Green said.

  “We called in for urgent care services in Prudhoe Bay. They’ll be here in minutes,” added a Trooper.

  “Hang on, Mitch. You’ll be fine. Your wife will love the scar,” I teased.

  He smiled weakly.

  Neither he nor I were convincing.

  Chapter Six

  Pacing in the waiting room, I was helpless. Mitch was still in surgery after a forty-five-minute helicopter ride to the nearest hospital in Barrow.

  My phone rang, and it was Green. “Yes,” I answered.

  “How is he?” Green asked.

  “Still in surgery. We need to get him transferred to Anchorage so his family can be with him,” I said.

  “One step at a time. They have to stabilize him there. We’ve got the situation locked down here. Women are safe. The kidnappers are in custody. We’re arranging transport to Anchorage now for everyone. We can fly up Mitch’s wife after I call and inform her,” Green said.

  “But what about the kids? I don’t want to panic anyone. Let’s see what the doctors say when he gets out of surgery before we get her on a plane.” I didn’t want to acknowledge that Mitch might not survive, but making multiple upsetting phone calls seemed worse. My hand shook holding the phone while I tried to remain composed.