“I’m sorry, Mr. Moss is in meetings all morning,” she said, raising one finger and flashing a smile in Amy’s direction. “Can I put you through to his voicemail?” There was a pause. “Of course. Putting you through now.” The woman disconnected the call.
“Good morning,” she said cheerily. “I’m Leslie. How can I help you this morning?”
“I’m here for a meeting with Cabe Moss. I’m Special Agent Amy Murray.”
Leslie slipped her headset off and stood. “We’ve been expecting you,” she said warmly, sliding a visitor’s pass across the desk. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the conference room.”
Amy clipped the pass to the pocket of her jacket as they walked. Leslie used her pass to open a set of double doors leading into an office area that appeared to be a hub of activity. Men she hadn’t met walked purposefully between rooms, all of them dressed casually. She suddenly felt a little overdressed. One of the men smiled at her in welcome, and she nodded in response.
“Hey, Amy,” Cabe said, walking out of an office to her left. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that stretched across his chest perfectly. His dark hair was still wet, as if he’d recently showered. And no, she was most definitely not going to think about Cabe showering. “You found us okay?” he asked. He held out his hand to point her in the direction of a large conference room with no windows.
“Yes. You were right about the building. It’s amazing how something can almost disappear into the background.”
The conference room, on the other hand, was anything but nondescript. It was a high-tech den of activity. The walls were white and the industrial-tile carpet gray, but they were the only boring things about the space. A bank of screens lined one wall, each one tuned to something different: a parking lot, a rural property, the exterior of the very building she stood in. A man with shorn dark hair sat in front of a large command console watching the screens. Three other men were already seated at the large table.
“Just how we wanted it,” Cabe said. “As soon as we saw the place, we knew it was meant to be ours. I’ll give you a tour later. But for now, let me introduce you to the team. Guys, this is Special Agent Amy Murray. The guy by the screens over there is Miller Stubs. We call him Lite. He’s going to be leading the intel arm of this op.”
Miller Lite. Amy grinned. Lite lifted his hand in greeting.
Cabe pointed in the direction of a guy who could easily pass for a surfer, with blond waves that just kissed his shoulders. On his head was a pair of Oakleys with tinted lenses. His T-shirt declared that he was there only in spirit. “That over there is Harley Burnham. Don’t let the ‘I don’t give a shit’ vibe put you off. When it comes to tracking, I don’t know anybody better.”
“I resemble that remark,” Harley replied. “Nice to meet you Amy.”
“You too.”
“And finally, Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dum over there are Bailey Franklin and Joel Budd, who we call Buddha. They are going to be our backup, managing external surveillance and, where we can, some internal surveillance. There are a couple of others who aren’t here right now, Gaz and Jackson, but you’ll probably see them around.”
Amy smiled in greeting. She’d seen enough movies to have heard of the military penchant for nicknames and call signs. Cabe pulled out a seat near the head of the table as Six and Mac walked into the room. Once everyone was seated, Cabe recapped the background, going a little deeper than they had the previous day.
“Tell us about the missing women,” Cabe ask her.
“They have all worked at Lucky Seven at some point,” she replied as Cabe projected the file she had forwarded to him the previous evening. A pretty brunette with small lips and green eyes faced them. “Helen Foy. Aged twenty-six. Arrived here a week before she landed the job at Lucky Seven and worked there for two months before she disappeared. According to her boss, Johnnie Ortega, she was a good worker. But that seems to be a theme common to all the missing women. They were competent at their jobs. Helen worked in the casino by night and was working toward an online degree in psychology. Her parents reported her missing when she didn’t show up back home for Thanksgiving, which was four days after she was last seen at the casino. No friends here to immediately miss her. But she seemed pretty close to her parents.”
Cabe tapped his pen on the desk. “If she was so attached to her family, how did she end up here?”
“The lure of the big city. She’d been let go from her part-time job in her small hometown and thought she’d stand a better chance of managing school and maintaining employment in the city.” Amy shook her head as she thought back to the interview notes from Helen’s lecturers, comments about how her coursework had shown real promise and a solid grasp of all the concepts. “By all accounts, she was totally pulling that off here.”
“What about the others?” Six asked before grabbing his mug and taking a large sip of coffee.
“Melanie Stokes,” Amy said, turning her attention to the dark-haired woman with blue eyes and thirteen piercings along one ear. “Almost the exact same story. A year younger. Interviewed for the job on a whim while on a West Coast road trip with friends. She’d spent the previous summer as a dealer in Atlantic City and felt like a change of scene after breaking up with her boyfriend. In her case, it was the ex-boyfriend who finally reported her missing after coming here to surprise her. There was no sign of her at work, and she’d always been responsive on social media. Instagram, Facebook … but suddenly there were no posts and she wasn’t returning anybody’s messages.”
Cabe was studying the face of the third woman, a blonde with cute glasses and a pixie cut. “Is Joanne Gleave the same story?”
Amy nodded. “Sadly, yes. Except the first two were dealers, and Joanne worked behind the bar. Joanne was, by all accounts, a free spirit. Traveled around the country for three years. Periodically she’d pick up bar work to rebuild her savings. She’d told her brother in Boulder, Utah, that she was going to drive there for Christmas. It was normal for them to not have contact for long periods. Joanne was at best flaky when it came to keeping in touch, according to her brother. He called SDPD to report her missing on the twenty-eighth of December, but by then she hadn’t shown up at the casino for six weeks.”
There was silence for a moment and then Cabe stood. “You mentioned more?”
When she’d read the files initially, her heart had raced as she’d noted the similarities. Something told her the women were connected, but there was only so much information to go off of. “When the police interviewed Joanne’s coworkers, they were given the name of another girl, Alison Berry, who had previously worked at the casino and had seemingly disappeared without telling any of her coworkers she was leaving. Although in this case, Faulkner Woods was able to provide a resignation letter from her. We are keeping her details on file because even though she hasn’t been reported missing, she hasn’t resurfaced anywhere else. No tax filing, nothing posted on social media, no driver’s license renewal in another state. Nothing. She’s vanished.”
“I’ll start digging on all the women,” Bailey said. “See if I can’t find something through different channels.”
Amy nodded her approval. “I’d appreciate it. I’d like to say that since SDPD and the FBI have all looked at this already, there isn’t any need, but we all know how easy it is to miss a small detail. I don’t think we can have too many eyes on it.”
“Agreed,” Cabe said. “Were they the only ones? Are we sure there aren’t more?” His eyes connected with hers, and for a second she was back in the bar. There was a quick flash of interest, but it disappeared as quickly as she’d seen it.
“The person who worked this case before me was unable to secure a warrant for the casino’s past and present employee list because it felt like a fishing expedition, but if there was a way around it through the access and approvals you are able to get, I’d be very grateful.”
Cabe looked at Harley, the man he’d said could track anybody.
“On it,” Harley said and turned around to the bank of monitors against the wall.
“I’m assuming you did some searching over the same time period for missing women in the area in general … and went back in time for those working at the casino?” Cabe asked.
Amy tapped her fingernails on her keyboard, though not hard enough to press any of the keys. It was just something she did when she was thinking. Then she opened the file.
Seven more names. Bringing the list to twelve.
“Holy shit,” Six said.
“Look at the dates,” Amy suggested. “Or better, look at them grouped with the last known sighting of each of the victims.” They bundled into almost three perfect blocks.
“Each block is six months apart,” Cabe said. “Which means the next block starts next month.”
“That’s why we think it’s trafficking. It’s too systematic. Transportation of victims needs setup, needs organization. The first two weeks in October are highly likely for this strike to happen again. We think at least two girls from the casino have gone the last couple of times.”
“You’re there as bait,” Cabe said coolly.
“No. I’m there as an agent. With a rocket-high GPA and a shit ton of case experience. But yeah, let’s call it what it is. I was also chosen because I can play, because I know my way around a casino, and because I can deal.”
Cabe raised his hands and shook his head. “Wasn’t challenging your credentials there, Amy. It was simply a statement.”
She believed him; there was understanding in his eyes that soothed her irritation. “You’re right. We both know that the girls on that screen were pretty but new in town. I’m new in town, and from the unsolicited dick pics I get on Tinder, I qualify for pretty.”
If there was one thing Cabe must have understood as a former SEAL, it was the use of inappropriate humor in stressful situations. He studied her for a second longer, but it was long enough for her to forget there were other people in the room. Cabe shook his head and ran his hand over his chin. “Guess I can’t argue with that,” he said gruffly.
For a moment, she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
* * *
“Okay,” Cabe said, stretching his arms up over his head. “Is the business portion of today concluded?”
It was after seven, and only Mac, Six, Amy, and Cabe were still around.
Amy nodded and pulled the bobby pins out of her hair one by one. “I certainly hope so because I am officially toast.” The hair that had been pulled into a bun at the back of her neck all day fell into a long braid.
Cabe tried not to groan. To get the job done, he needed to stop thinking about what that braid would feel like wrapped in his hand. And for his mental health, he needed to not get involved with a woman in a high-risk occupation.
But she was bait. Fucking bait. It didn’t sit well in his gut. But since she was willing, he’d get with the program.
“I’m starved, and Lou is in the middle of some big experiment,” Six said. “I know she’ll be late tonight. Anybody want to grab pizza?”
“I’m game,” Amy agreed.
“Perfect. I’ll go order,” Six said, standing. “I know what these two like, but any no-goes for you, Amy?”
“No tuna. Because seafood does not belong on a pizza.”
“That I totally agree with,” Cabe said, stacking his papers, wondering how many other things they agreed on. Small things, big things, it would be fun to figure out … no. He cut the train of thought off. That kind of thinking sounded a lot like the fun of dating. Getting to know the other person. And he was so not ready for that.
He looked over at Amy, who was putting her laptop away in her bag. To her left was a pile of handwritten notes, all seemingly color-coded, and meticulously organized. The way she’d communicated with them during the day had been the same. Structured and cohesive. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Give me a sec to go put my stuff in my office.”
He placed his laptop and his papers on his desk. The unsettled feeling that had niggled him all day finally had a name. Disappointment. It was better to acknowledge the weakness than pretend it didn’t exist. He was disappointed that he couldn’t get to know Amy on a more personal level. The boundaries were clear and he’d honor them, but he needed a moment to get over the fact that it sucked.
“Good session, today,” Mac said as he walked into Cabe’s office.
Cabe nodded his head in agreement. “Knowing more about the missing women helps.”
“Helps that Amy knows her shit,” Six said, joining the conversation.
“That, she does,” Mac agreed.
”Listen. I have an idea,” Cabe said.
“What is it?” Mac asked, just as Six joined them.
Earlier that morning, as he’d been about to leave the apartment, he’d seen the slim metal case by the rest of the games and had decided to take a chance and bring it to work. “We have zero time to build a working relationship with Amy. Today was a great start. But we need to get to know each other. And I need some practice,” he said. “What do you say we see if Amy will play poker with us over pizza?”
Six laughed. “For real? How many hours have we spent playing that damn game?”
Cabe grinned. “I gotta believe it’s not going to be straightforward. She almost went pro.”
“She’s going to kick our ass,” Mac said with a shrug. “But I’m game.”
Now it was Cabe’s turn to laugh. “Yeah. We’re gonna lose. But it’ll be fun.” He dug the case out from behind his desk.
Mac coughed. “Can I say something without you jumping down my throat?”
Cabe stood. “That you even need to ask me that question means it’s pretty much guaranteed that I am going to jump down your throat, doesn’t it?”
“Okay. But you and Amy. I might be being stupid, and it’s highly possible that because I love my girlfriend to death, I’m seeing love and shit, but are you two … is there? I don’t … I can’t say it was anything really obvious but…”
Cabe sighed as he leaned his ass on his desk. He needed to come clean about what had happened because secrets among teammates could be deadly, even if they seemed innocuous. “Last week, when we were at the bar, after you guys left … she was there. We got talking.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Six said.
“Nothing happened,” Cabe jumped in. “Hell, we didn’t get past first names and some flirtation that said it could have gone exactly where your mind just did. But I bailed on her.”
Mac’s eyes locked on his. “You what?”
Cabe rubbed his hand over his chin and then adjusted his watch on his wrist.
“Quit stalling,” Mac said and took a step closer. “You. Did. What?”
“She was cute, I hit on her, and then I felt guilty as shit that it was Jess’s birthday and I was talking to another woman. So while she was taking some drinks to her friends, I ducked out the door. I spoke to her about it at the FBI meeting. Apologized. Told her I was a dick, and she agreed it was probably for the best that we didn’t take it any further, given that we are going to be working together.”
Since then, she’d been all business. Since then, she’d done nothing but behave professionally with him … except. Shit, Mac was right. There had been moments today when they’d just seemed in synch: when they’d blurted out the same proposed answer to the setup of the op; when they’d liked the same country artists; when he’d looked at her while she spoke and their eyes had locked for a millisecond.
“I don’t suppose it will do any good to remind you of our fraternization policy, would it?” Six asked.
“Because you paid so much attention to it when you slept with Louisa after promising not to? And like you did, Mac, when you hooked back up with Delaney? I swear to god that policy isn’t worth the paper we wrote the fucking thing on.”
Mac walked to the bookshelf and picked up Cabe’s copy of Book of Five Rings. “You seriously read this shit?”
&nbs
p; Cabe rolled his eyes. “Miyamoto Musashi’s writing on conflict and taking the advantage is nearly four hundred years old and just as valid now as it was then.”
Mac replaced the book on the shelf. “I’m going to say two things, then I’m going to go get pizza. The first is don’t mess this up. For her sake. My sisters will tell you how hard it is for women to be taken seriously sometimes. I gotta believe it’s doubly hard in the feebs. The second … well—”
The buzzer to the building sounded. “That’ll be the pizza,” Six said, and Mac looked toward the hallway.
“The second?” Cabe asked.
“She wouldn’t want you to be alone, Cabe.… Jess. She wasn’t selfish. She’d want you to find someone else.” Mac slapped him on the shoulder as he and Six left the room.
Cabe sucked in a deep breath and sat on his office chair. Mindlessly he spun it toward the window. The view was uninspiring, but he could see a stretch of sky above the building next to theirs.
She wouldn’t want you to be alone.
Buried deep down inside was the knowledge Mac was right.
He took a few minutes before joining the others in the conference room. When he did, the smell of tomatoes and pepperoni hit him full in the face. His stomach rumbled as he placed the case down on the table. “While we eat,” he said, opening the case of poker chips and cards, “I thought we could practice. I’ll be heading into the casino after Amy starts and don’t want to be rusty.” Reconnaissance for evidence of money laundering was going to require every ounce of focus. It would require covert camera placement, identification of targets, and hours and hours of intelligence gathering. But he couldn’t just walk around or sit at the bar. He’d need to play, and play well.
He looked straight at Amy. “Plus, I want to see just how good little Miss Spawn of the World Poker Series Dynasty actually is.” Amy narrowed her gaze playfully, and he winked in return. He liked teasing her.
Amy laughed as she waved a hand in front of her mouth. He guessed the pizza was hot. “Oh my god,” she mumbled. “This spawn is seriously going to kick your ass.” She swallowed the pizza and shook her head in what looked like an attempt to regain composure. “Shit, that was hot. Look, I point blank refuse to play you for money.”
Deep Cover--A Love Over Duty Novel Page 5