“What the hell are you talking about?” Devin’s gray eyes were looking at her suspiciously. That was to be expected. Victoria didn’t have what police officers liked to call, hard evidence. But she had no doubt that what Kevin Frasier had told her two days ago was true.
“Look, I have a very credible anonymous source. This anonymous source told me that, a few months prior to his death, the Henning Cooper Company hired Antonio Ortiz to transfer some packages for them in the dock that they operated in Galveston, Texas.”
“Why would the Henning Cooper Company hire a seventeen-year-old kid to move packages for them?”
“I’ve been thinking about that very issue. It didn’t make sense to me at first either. But I did some digging, and I found out that Antonio’s uncle, Romero Ortiz, worked for the company as well. The Henning Cooper Company fired him shortly after Antonio’s death. I think that Antonio’s uncle may have helped to get him the job so that he could make some extra cash. I’ve tried to get into contact with his Uncle Romero, but a few weeks back he left Dallas. His sister-in-law, Nina Ortiz, hasn’t heard from him. But there’s no indication that Romero knew the details of the transport job that his nephew took. Antonio was a smart kid, but he wanted to save up some money for college and to help his mother out with her expenses.”
“Even if this Ortiz kid was moving packages, why would anyone at the Henning Cooper Company want him dead?”
“Drugs. We both know that the Henning Cooper Company has been receiving foreign shipments of heroin in some of their tankers. I also know that Antonio Ortiz’s job at the Henning Cooper Company was as a transporter of some of the heroin shipments.” Before Devin could get the question that was poised on his tongue out, Victoria cut him off. “Yeah, don’t even ask me. You know that I’m not going to reveal my source.”
“Hold on a second. For the past few months, you have been trying to convince me that Antonio Ortiz was a good kid who was murdered through no fault of his own. Now you’re telling me that he was moving drugs for the Henning Cooper Company.”
“Antonio Ortiz was a good kid. One of the sources that I have been in contact with stated that when Antonio first took the job, he didn’t know that he was transporting drugs. He only found out a few weeks into his work for the company. He quit as soon as he figured out what was going on.”
“Why didn’t he just report what he found to the police?”
“Yeah. A young, poor, Hispanic kid from West Dallas going up against a rich and powerful company that just happened to be owned by a former U.S. Congressman. Would you go to the police?”
“What do you want me to do with this information, Victoria? If you don’t tell me the name of your source, how the hell am I supposed to believe anything that you’ve just said?”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“No. I am not calling you a liar. What I’m saying is that since your source is anonymous, I can’t question him or her, and I have no way of examining his or her credibility. From the information that we have been able to gather about both Richard Henning’s murder and Antonio Ortiz’s murder, there’s not a scintilla of evidence that would connect Richard Henning to Antonio Ortiz’s murder.”
“But here’s the thing, there is evidence. There’s a witness. My source gave me the identity of someone you should interview. Someone who you haven’t spoken to before, someone who saw Antonio Ortiz being gunned down—gunned down by two men on a motorcycle. Just like Richard Henning.”
“Let me get this straight. You’re trying to convince me that someone orchestrated both Antonio Ortiz’s murder and Richard Henning’s killing?”
“Yes. Both of these murders were perpetrated by two men on motorcycles who used large caliber handguns to commit the crimes. This type of MO is probably the perpetrators’ signature. Therefore, I believe that the two murders are connected. It does not make any sense that the Haqqai group, who kidnapped Richard Henning in Pakistan, would have had any motivation at all to kill Antonio Ortiz. Especially, not in the months before they kidnapped Richard Henning.”
Victoria could see the wheels turning around in Devin’s head. “Yeah, but you still haven’t presented me with evidence to support that the same people who killed Antonio Ortiz killed Richard Henning. Right now, this is just interesting theory and conjecture. The DA would never move forward with this on what you’ve given me,” he finally said.
“You need to speak with Sonya Rodriguez,” Victoria reached down into her purse and pulled out a scrap of paper with a telephone number on it. “She was an administrative assistant at the Henning Cooper Company office in downtown Dallas. She also knew one of Antonio Ortiz’s cousins. She’s apparently how Antonio found out about this transport job to begin with. She graduated a few years ago from the same high school that Antonio attended. She believes that she overheard Walker Cooper and Walt Mickelson planning the murder of Antonio Ortiz. She didn’t put two and two together until after Antonio was gunned down. She’s been afraid to go to the police about what she knows.”
Devin was slow to respond as he reached forward to pick up the sheet of paper that Victoria had handed him. But when he did, he said the words that Victoria had been waiting for, “Okay, Victoria, you’ve got my attention. I’ll talk to my superiors about expanding the investigations to include your theory.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
F
or the second time, Victoria was standing outside of Nina Ortiz’s apartment late in the evening. Knocking on the woman’s apartment door, Victoria waited for several moments before the door cracked open, the security chain still in place. The older woman peered at her through the cracked opening.
“Ms. Sanchez?”
“Yes, it’s me Victoria. I’m sorry to be dropping by so late in the evening, Ms. Ortiz. May I come in? There’s been some very important developments in the investigation into the death of your son.”
“Sure, of course. One moment,” the older woman replied, closing the door and then sliding the chain off, before opening the door all the way to allow Victoria to walk into the apartment.
Victoria sat down on the same chair in which she had sat months before.
“What is this about?” Ms. Ortiz asked, taking up the chair across from Victoria.
“As you know, I’ve been investigating your son’s murder. In recent days, I’ve been able to speak to different contacts who have given me additional information about the moments and weeks leading up to your son’s death.”
“What have you found out, Ms. Sanchez?” Nina Ortiz’s voice was tight with strain, her eyes still holding onto the sorrow that Victoria had seen on her first visit.
“I’m releasing two news articles at the end of the week about both your son’s murder and the assassination of former Congressman Richard Henning.”
“Do you know who murdered my Antonio?”
“I think so. I’ve spoken to one of Antonio’s acquaintances who was familiar with the company that your son was working for prior to his death. Apparently, he was working as a transporter for the Henning Cooper Company. The same company that your brother-in-law, Romero Ortiz, used to work for. There is no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I have credible information that Antonio was transporting drugs for this shipping company.”
“What? I don’t understand. You mean pharmaceutical drugs for a hospital?”
“No, I mean illegal heroin that had been shipped into a U.S. port. I know that this may be difficult for you to comprehend, but—”
“No!” Ms. Ortiz cut her off before she could finish, abruptly standing up from her seat. “You are just trying to slander him. A poor boy from the ghetto. My Antonio was a good boy. He would never have been involved with drugs. Not to use them or to sell them.”
“Ms. Ortiz. I’m very sorry, I know this is very hard for you. I promise you that it’s not my intention to slander your son. Antonio wasn’t selling the drugs. He wasn’t aware for quite some time about what he was actually transporting. When he found
out the truth, he tried to quit the job. I think that his quitting the job was one of the reasons why he was murdered. Trust me, I’m only trying to uncover the truth about what happened to him and help the police identify who killed him.”
Ms. Ortiz stared at her for a long moment. Her brown eyes were shooting fire in Victoria’s direction. The woman was sad, angry, and distressed. Victoria could only imagine how she now felt, after having heard news that may threaten to tarnish her son’s character.
“Who did this to my son?” Nina Ortiz finally asked. The words were barely above a whisper, Victoria strained her ears trying to make them out.
“I believe that the individuals who shot your son were hired by someone from the Henning Cooper Company. Apparently, some of the drug product that your son was carrying went missing. Your son didn’t take the drugs, but I believe that someone at the shipping company thought that your son had. Shortly, after the last transport that your son completed, he tried to quit the job. I believe that that ignited additional suspicion that your son had stolen portions of the drugs that were being transported.”
Nina Ortiz stood there in front of Victoria, a shocked expression on her face, tears brimming in her eyes. “Romero didn’t tell me that he got Antonio this job. I have not heard from him in weeks. Do you think that he knows what happened to my Antonio?”
“I can’t be sure, Ms. Ortiz. But from the information that I have right now, there’s no indication that Romero knew about what was being transported when he helped get Antonio the job. I believe that he was just trying to help your son.”
Nina Ortiz nodded her head before saying, “Thank you for what you’ve done, in looking into this, Ms. Sanchez. But no one will be arrested.”
“Ms. Ortiz, I know one of the lead police investigators into your son’s case and he is a solid guy. He won’t bury this case because of the Henning Cooper Company’s wealth or the wealth of the individuals behind the organization. If he can make a case against them for the death of your son, he will.”
“You may believe that Ms. Sanchez. You may be a Latina, but you live worlds away from here where my Antonio lived. You come down here in your nice car and slum for a bit, but you don’t really know. I’m not saying that you don’t care. But you will never know what it’s like to be poor. To worry about your survival on a day-to-day basis. To know that your voice doesn’t count.”
“Ms. Ortiz, I know that you’re upset. That you are hurting. But I don’t mean you any harm. I started the investigation into your son’s death because the truth needs to be told about why he died.” Victoria said, softly. It wasn’t really soothing. She doubted that anything she said at this point could serve to soothe this broken woman who stood before her. This woman who had had to bury her only child—something that no parent should ever have to do.
“You may think that if you tell your little story, ‘justice’ will be served. But it won’t. It won’t because the people who killed my baby won’t have any consequences,” she said, slowly sinking back down into the seat, shaking her head. “Everyone should be held accountable for their actions. But men like them never are. They think that they can do whatever they want to do. Take whatever they want to take. And they’re right.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Los Angeles, CA
W
ill sat in his vehicle outside of Olivia’s apartment building and waited for her to arrive home from the hospital. He anxiously drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. He had been trying to contact Olivia for days now, and she wasn’t returning his calls.
Okay, so yes he had been a little late on getting back in contact with her after they were last together in Germany. But most of that time delay hadn’t even been his fault. He’d been called away on back-to-back missions while in Germany and hadn’t returned to the States until last month. She couldn’t possibly hold that against him.
But yeah, he knew that he should have called Olivia right when he got back, like he told her he would. That would have been the gentlemanly thing to do, for sure. It was definitely a dick move on his part, not calling her right away. He didn’t even really understand why he hadn’t.
Try as he might—and he had tried—he couldn’t forget about Olivia. And he actually felt bad about potentially disappointing her. Which was crazy because he and Olivia weren’t even a couple. They hadn’t even gone out on a real date yet. He wasn’t married or in any type of a relationship with her, so he shouldn’t have felt guilty. But he did.
This past week he’d finally gotten up the nerve to contact her. He’d called her almost every day for the past seven days, and he still hadn’t heard a peep from her. Will had been a desperate man by the time Thursday had rolled around, so he’d called Joshua and gotten her home address.
He hadn’t told Joshua or anyone about what had happened between Olivia and him in Germany. And he wouldn’t. Not because he was ashamed in anyway—Olivia was beyond gorgeous—but because it just wasn’t anyone’s business.
So far he’d been waiting outside for about two hours. This was probably borderline stalker behavior, but Will didn’t know what else to do at this point, except to try to speak with Olivia in person. It was getting close to nine o’clock p.m. so he figured that she should be returning soon.
A few minutes later, Will watched as an older model blue Jeep Wrangler pulled up into one of the empty parking spaces to the left of his truck. He saw Olivia get out of it, lock the doors behind her, and head up the steps to her condominium.
Getting out of his vehicle, Will called out to her, “Hey, Olivia.”
She stopped immediately in her tracks and turned around slowly. He noticed that she still had on green scrubs. She had pulled her long hair back from her face and into a bun. A few tendrils of her light brown hair hung loose down around both sides of her face. Her stunning blue eyes were guarded.
She was even more beautiful than he had remembered.
“Will.”
He walked forward and stopped to stand only about two feet away from her. Based upon the look in her eyes, however, the distance between the two of them might as well have been measured in light-years.
The beam of light from the parking lot lamp above them hit Olivia’s face at just the right angle, so that he could see a small smear of blood marring her left cheek. Similar smears were on her scrubs. Her eyes were also bright and rimmed with red, as if she had been crying earlier.
Ah hell. “You’re bleeding. Did someone hurt you? Who did this?” he asked, his gaze narrowing and sharpening on her face. He reached forward to touch her cheek. If someone had hurt her …
“It’s not my blood,” she responded while shifting backwards slightly in order to avoid his touch. Instead of her soft, velvety skin, his fingers connected with air.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she said. She refused to look at him directly in the eyes. She sounded exhausted, her lips were pursed tightly together, and a frown was etched across her forehead. Will was guessing that her weariness had a lot to do with the day she’d had, and now his unannounced visit. Shit.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Okay. Will cleared his throat. “How have you been?”
“Fine.”
Whoa. Monosyllabic replies to open ended questions were usually not good signs. If he’d had any doubt in his mind before, it was completely erased now—he was high up on Olivia’s shit list. Hell, he was probably in the number one spot.
“I’ve been calling you. I’ve left you messages.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You haven’t called me back.”
“Yeah, I know that too. I wasn’t planning on calling you back.”
Will stood staring down at her silently for a moment before he tried again. “Look Olivia, I’m sorry that it has taken me a while to contact you. I’ve been incredibly busy these last few months—”
“You don’t owe me any explanations. I understand that you have a busy jo
b. So do I,” Olivia interjected, putting her hands up in front of her, as if to stop him from saying another word.
“Right, I’m glad that you understand. Well, I’m back now, and I’d love to take you out to dinner. Maybe tomorrow night? I know this really great Italian place near the waterfront that has amazing food—”
“No.” Olivia cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“No you can’t go tomorrow? Or no you can’t go ever?”
Olivia stared back at him without saying a word.
Damnit. She was being astonishingly intransigent, completely overreacting to the situation.
“Listen Olivia. I’m sorry. I just, I needed my space to unwind when I got back home and, I just …” Will trailed off, rubbing a hand over his face in his frustration.
God this woman drove him crazy. He was rambling like a fool. But he was a smart guy, surely he could figure out what to say to her to make her see things from his perspective.
“Why would you want to go out with me on a date, Will? I heard that you were seeing someone else.”
Shit. Busted. Victoria must have told her about the girl that he had went out with when he first got home. “Look Olivia …” Will trailed off, struggling to find the right words, “I did see someone a few times when I first came back to the States. I went out with some of my friends and met someone. It didn’t mean anything. But I mean, you and I are not even officially dating you know. So it’s not like I cheated on you.” Still silence. She was facing him, but her eyes were staring off at some point in the distance just beyond his head. “Liv, I just think that, you know, you and I could have fun together. We have a chance now to get to know each other better.”
She finally shifted her gaze to look him square in his eyes. She was looking at him with such fierceness that she seemed to be looking right through him. “I already told you. You don’t owe me any explanations. No, we weren’t dating or in a relationship. And we won’t be. I think things will be better off if we just leave what happened in Germany, in Germany. It was just a momentary lapse in judgment on both of our parts. No hard feelings.”
Pushed to the Edge (SEAL Team 14) Page 25