by G. K. Parks
Forty-five minutes later, Decker found me sweeping near the front door. He wrapped his arms around my waist and huddled close to whisper the plan in my ear. After checking that we were alone, he went into the kitchen to overload the circuits. Thankfully, his trick blacked out the entire building and not just that one room.
“I’m heading upstairs,” I declared, hoisting the broom off the ground. “If you need some help down here, send me a text.”
He saluted. “Just be careful and don’t work too hard.”
Dashing up the steps, I made quick work of the lock and slipped inside Tim’s bedroom. My eyes scanned the area for signs of surveillance equipment. Wilde was smart enough not to risk being caught by putting himself on camera, but at the same time, he was paranoid. There was no telling the lengths he might go to feel secure. Pushing this fact aside, I started in one corner of the bedroom. Any second, we could be discovered, and I had to choose speed over thoroughness.
The suite was partitioned off into three different sections. The sleeping area contained a bed, two nightstands, and a dresser. This was the area that I’d been given access while in an impaired state. From the way Sarah had entered the room and the stories Jace had told, several of the women had been inside. The usual sex related paraphernalia filled the nightstand drawer. The dresser contained clothing and nothing else. And the bed was just a bed. Surprisingly, I didn’t even find a dirty magazine under the mattress.
The bathroom was no different, but the medicine cabinet did contain several unlabeled bottles. Removing a baggie from my pocket, I took a sampling from each. Replacing everything, I checked the toilet tank, beneath the vanity, and every other place that could be used to conceal contraband. When I failed to find anything else, I entered the third area of the room.
“Shit.” I didn’t come prepared for a computer. The laptop was closed, and I took a seat behind the desk, flipping it open while I searched through the drawers. The log on screen requested a password, and I swore. Sending Decker a text for assistance, I continued the hunt, but Wilde didn’t have a list of passwords hidden inside the desk, and he didn’t have anything overtly damning either.
The phone chimed, and I read the message. Leave it for now. We’ll get help from the team. They’ll crack it remotely.
“Great,” I mumbled. The rest of the room was decorated in a minimalist fashion. There was very little furniture, practically no clutter, and not a damn thing that indicated Tim was anything but a peace, love, and tranquility kind of guy. “Fucking A.”
After making sure nothing appeared to have been disturbed, I ducked out of the room. I gave the door handle a quick jiggle to make sure the lock reengaged before continuing down the hallway. There were three other doors. The second door I tried led to another bedroom that was being used for storage. Several plastic containers lined one wall. Each was filled with linens. Several yoga mats and exercise gear took up the back wall, and the rest of the room was filled with stacks of folding chairs, random pieces of furniture, a few small tables, and some TV trays. I snapped a few quick shots, just in case any of it meant something to Decker, and continued on my way.
My phone vibrated, and I read, Twenty minutes and counting. Are you almost done?
I shot off a quick reply while I opened door number three. “Oh my god.” Making sure the door shut, I took a moment and stared at the row of filing cabinets. “What the hell do we have here?”
Picking the locks on the drawers, I opened the first one to find legal documents regarding the property, permits, and exemptions that Wilde had filed. Deciding that none of that was particularly important, I scanned the rest of the drawers in that cabinet and moved on to the next one. Inside were folders for each person at the commune. They were organized by date of arrival.
My folder contained my estimated net worth, several photographs that had been taken of me, my known employment history, a list of likes and dislikes, and every other tidbit that Wilde might need to manipulate me. The most disturbing thing inside was a set of images taken at night when I was alone in the dorms. There were several of me in bed, and I was thankful that I never changed in that room.
The next folder I opened was Anika’s. Taking out my phone, I took photographs of the entire file before moving on. Flipping through the stack, I found Jace’s file. It was thicker than the others, and I skimmed through it for any signs that he’d been compromised or Tim had grown suspicious. It looked like Jace was in the clear, and I tucked the file back inside.
My phone chimed again, and I read the new message. A group is heading toward the house. Get out of there.
Asking that he buy me a few more minutes, I took a photo of the interior of the cabinet so we’d be able to read the names off the tabs to solidify a better plan for next time. Then I unlocked the final filing cabinet. All but one of the drawers was empty. It contained a rolodex and a ledger. Clicking away at a couple of the pages, I hoped this would be something. Then I exited the room and went to the last door.
Alex, get out now.
Quickly, I opened the door, prepared to take a quick peek and make a break for the staircase. However, I froze in the doorway. At first glance, it appeared to be another bedroom, but the sheets were rumpled, and I couldn’t help but think that the stains on the rug and the bed were blood. Creeping closer, I noticed that the closet door was cracked open. Moving toward it, I eased the door open and stared down at a steep set of stairs. Where the hell did they lead?
Twenty seconds.
I raced out of the room and down the hallway, grabbing the broom on the way. I was three steps down when the power came back on. I skittered to a stop, sweeping the broom back and forth on the step while wiping sweat from my brow.
Jace came into the entryway, relieved that I had reappeared in the nick of time. Two men were right behind him, talking about the circuit breaker. Jace looked at me. “What are you doing up there?” he asked nonchalantly.
“Sweeping.”
“Come down and take a break. I want to show you something in the trailer.”
Twenty-seven
“That was too close,” Decker snapped.
We’d already spent the last forty-five minutes discussing what I had found upstairs. He hadn’t had nearly as much luck determining what might be beyond the equipment closet in the yoga studio, but it was a safe bet that it was probably the staircase. At least we had some idea of where to focus our efforts in the future. This gave the investigation hope. However, I’d been kicking myself for not being more prepared. We could have learned so much more if only I had started with that staircase, moved on to the rumpled bed, and then to the file room.
“It was worth the risk.” I shook my head. “I should’ve gone down the steps.”
“This is my op,” he hissed, forcing his volume to remain low in the event anyone was eavesdropping from outside the trailer, but it was clear he wanted to yell. “When I tell you to haul ass, you do it.”
I glared at him. “Yes, sir.”
Scratching at his beard, he flipped through the photos I’d taken, rereading the information from Anika’s file. Copies of everything had been sent to the team, and they were working the leads. The ledger was written in code, and the few pages that I’d snapped pictures of didn’t give us much to go on. The rolodex was also coded, but even if we deciphered it, a couple of names weren’t likely to prove useful. We needed everything.
“Tell me about that last bedroom again,” Decker insisted. “Not the steps, just the state of the room.”
“The bed was unmade. The sheets were this faded grayish lavender color, but they were speckled with brownish stains. The area rug surrounding the bed had similar stains.” My mind went to dark places, and I really wanted to castrate the perverted cult leader.
“Blood?”
“That was my assumption. I don’t know. I should have taken a sample, but I didn’t have time.”
He blew out a breath. “What about the walls? Any spatter on them?”
I shook my
head.
He sighed. “And since you aren’t completely sure it’s blood, then there wasn’t enough of it to think that a murder took place in that room.” He bit his lip. “We need to determine where that staircase leads and who or what Tim is keeping inside that hidden room.”
“Then call in the fucking cavalry. Didn’t Stella say we had enough for a raid?”
He snorted, tossing his phone on the table between us. “The assistant director changed his mind. It seems that the punk that murdered Harbring has been chirping up quite a storm. The DEA is now functioning under the assumption that Wilde is working for the Sinaloa cartel. Our objective is no longer to take out a big fish in a small pond; it’s to use that fish as bait to catch a whale.”
“Dammit.” Jumping to my feet, I slammed the chair against the table. “When the hell were you planning to tell me this?”
“I just did.”
“Great.” Grabbing my phone, I pocketed it and tucked my gun at the small of my back, making sure my sweatshirt covered the bulge. “I’m leaving. At least one of us should actually see about running down some leads. Text me when you grow a pair.”
Storming out of the trailer, I went to my car, glad that everyone was distracted with closing up shop. I got behind the wheel and pulled out of the parking lot, following the line of customers that were exiting the property after a day of shopping. I was a few miles away before I realized that I had nowhere to go. Parking in a garage, I dialed Eve.
“Do you have the profiles I asked for?”
She exhaled slowly. “I’ve made the identifications, and I compiled the information you requested on Anika Thatcher, Carmen Chavez, and Natalie DuBois, the other two women in the photo. Anika and Natalie were college roommates. They were practically inseparable, but after graduation, Natalie went on to get her masters and became a journalist. Apparently, Anika worked odd jobs to pay her tuition, inevitably ending up working in a skin club. I imagine that’s where she met Carmen.”
“What happened to Carmen?”
Eve let out a mirthless laugh. “Someone wants to jump ahead to the end.” She exhaled again. “A lot of questionable things went down at this S&M club. The police answered routine calls. The women were badly treated. They’d be chained up for hours on end, neglected, beaten, and the management let it happen. They only cared about catering to the dark desires of their clientele. The police would shut them down, but they’d pop up again with a different name or in a different location. At some point, a fire broke out. Four women were found dead in shackles.”
“Shit.” The papers hadn’t mentioned any of it, but someone was probably paid to keep a lid on things. That explained why Anika was willing to give up so much freedom to Wilde, and it made me fear what else was happening at the commune for her to have been so panicked prior to her disappearance. “Please tell me that you’ve located her and she’s safe.”
“I’m sorry. Matt’s working on traffic footage, but there are no indications that anyone else entered or left the property that evening or the following morning. Are you certain she didn’t run away?”
“No.” Scenes from that bedroom played out in my mind. “We’ll be lucky if we ever find her body.”
“Alex,” Eve searched for a positive spin to put on things, but there wasn’t one, “you don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
Hanging up, I knew that I needed to return. Regardless of the DEA’s objective, I owed it to Anika to determine what happened and get justice for her. Her life had been rough. She came to Wilde looking for a new beginning, and she met a horrible end. I couldn’t let that happen to anyone else.
Deciding it was time to take matters into my own hands, I dialed Jablonsky. My boss would know what to do. Mark listened patiently, but from the metallic squeaks that continued to interrupt our conversation, I could tell he was searching his desk and furiously scribbling down notes.
Finally, he said, “This isn’t my call. Do you have a plan?”
“Besides grabbing Tim by the balls, shoving my gun down his throat, and forcing him to confess to everything,” I retorted bitterly, “I haven’t figured out much beyond that.”
“For Christ’s sake, don’t do it, Parker.”
“That was a joke. Sort of.”
Mark sighed. “Is now a bad time to remind you that I didn’t want you getting mixed up in this shit? The DEA has its head so far up its own ass that they can’t tell right from wrong. God forbid they take a small win instead of a giant front page victory.” He blew out another breath. “Look, I’ll make some calls and see what I can do to get them to shut this motherfucker down. In the meantime, color within the lines. What does Agent Decker have to say about all this?”
“I don’t know. Things were getting heated, so I left.”
“Apparently, that’s your new party trick,” Mark retorted, but I knew that sentiment probably originated from Martin. “Get back to work. Unfortunately, he’s all you got. So make the most of it. I’ll do what I can from my end, and Parker, stay alive.”
“Will do.”
After hanging up, I returned to the commune. The last stand was being dismantled and placed in one of the structures for safe keeping. Decker said the buildings didn’t house anything sinister, but at this point, I was beginning to doubt my DEA counterpart. Sending the polite text of my imminent return, I crossed the lot and unlocked the trailer.
Decker had Eckhardt on speaker while they discussed the vast turns the investigation had taken in the last two days. While they spoke, he’d alternate between making notes and puttering around the kitchen. I wasn’t sure exactly what Decker’s system was, but it seemed to be working. Deciding to stay out of his way, I took a seat on the sofa and listened to the conversation while compiling a list of possible leads and evidence that needed further exploration.
When the call ended, Decker hovered over me. “Don’t do that again.”
“What? Leave in the middle of a fight, or take too long to follow your orders?”
“Both.” He offered an apologetic smile. “To be fair, I would have done the same thing. But too many people have already been killed on my watch. I don’t want to let that happen to you.”
“It would have been my fault. And let’s be real; unless Wilde comes at me with a poisoned dart, I think I can take him.”
Decker snorted. “Now who’s being arrogant?”
“I’m just being truthful.”
Before he could say anything else, the timer dinged. Decker returned to the kitchenette and removed a baking sheet from the oven. He tossed the two burgers from the skillet onto plates and scooped the fries next to them. “Peace offering, if you’re hungry.” He put the plates on the table.
“I didn’t think you did burgers and fries.”
“Not from those drive-thru joints. Plus, it seemed like the type of thing that you’d scarf down while working through dinner.” He looked down at his notes. “We’ll definitely be working through dinner.”
“In that case, you should have made more fries.” I picked one up and took a cautious bite. The baked wedge wasn’t soppy from the deep fryer, but it hit the spot. “So where should we begin?”
He cut his burger and speared it with the fork. “Let’s start with finding a way to bypass Wilde’s security system in order to gain access to the upper level. I believe everything we need to build a case is housed on that floor, including his connection to the cartel.” He chewed thoughtfully. “I’m on your side, Alex. I want justice for Anika, everyone he’s manipulated, and the ones that he’s used or sold out. He’s a killer, and we need to stop him now.” He searched my face. “If we find Anika’s body or proof that he poses imminent danger to his followers, we will shut him down. You have my word. Can I count on you?”
Turning the tables, I asked, “Can I count on you?”
He chuckled. “Damn. You really do have trust issues.”
Our priorities were clear. We needed to be ready to explore upstairs whenever the opportunity p
resented itself. Based on previous experiences, our next chance would probably be the following weekend, but since Wilde spent most afternoons out of the building, we might be able to access the upper level sooner. Ben was working on creating a program that would hack Wilde’s computer password and copy his hard drive. With any luck, we’d be set to move forward on that front by tomorrow. Carlo and Eve were experimenting with tech. Without cutting off the power supply, there were a few gadgets that would temporarily deactivate any surveillance footage. They’d determine the most pragmatic option, but at the moment, it looked like a jammer or a shortwave EMF burst was our best bet. However, we’d have to watch our time, and it could also short out our equipment. In terms of exploring the hidden passageway, all we could do was hope to be equipped to deal with whatever we encountered.
Once we had the basics down, Decker moved the conversation to our shifting set of facts. Vincent Harbring was targeted by the Southside Giants for running drugs in their territory. Harbring had been warned to stay off their turf, so when he showed up that night after assaulting me, the Giants had no choice but to show him they meant business. They sent Paolo Raza, their newest recruit, to do the dirty work as an initiation. The kid was only twenty, but unlike most in that life, he didn’t want to spend the next two decades behind bars. He had given up the chop shop as part of the drug biz. The owners had been taken in quietly and were cooperating in providing detailed information about the competition in exchange for some leniency. However, the intel had yet to be verified.
“What about Anton Shrieves?” I asked. “Have we established any connection between my second assailant and the drug trade?”
“No one’s said a word to me. Stella’s on top of that, but right now it’s all speculation. The police never recovered Shrieves’ vehicle, so we don’t know what he might have been hiding when the officer pulled him over. We can’t even connect Shrieves to Wilde at this point. Once we break into Tim’s files, that might change.”