The Dig (The Blackwell Files Book 9)
Page 18
“So he wasn’t mixed up in the artifact black market in the past?” asked Vega.
“Not from what we can tell,” replied Alton. “Lieutenant Vasquez sent a team to his apartment. They found a stash of artifacts stolen from both digs and equipment for creating more fake ones. Vasquez thought the antiquities her team found there were real, but she’ll be sending them to a professor at UCLA who specializes in spotting forged artifacts. He’ll be able to make the final call.”
“I used Cornick’s credit-card records to track down his purchases of the aging equipment,” added Mallory. “It’s all new, purchased within the last few months—after the cave-in at the Zapopan Basilica. So he started his criminal career only in the last couple of months.”
“But if he’d never done it before,” said Vega, “how did he know who to contact to sell the stuff?”
Alton smiled. “Sergeant Pineda helped us there. Once Vasquez offered him a plea deal, he spilled his guts. Pineda helped guard the Zapopan cave-in site until Cornick had a chance to hire the locals to take over the job. During that time, Cornick approached Pineda and asked if he’d ever arrested people for artifact smuggling. Pineda said no, but he’d arrested drug smugglers. Cornick hemmed and hawed for a while but eventually asked if Pineda knew any drug smugglers who’d be interested in buying valuable artifacts at a discount. Pineda said yeah, he knew some who would probably be interested.
“A few days later, Pineda told Cornick a drug smuggler—Cruz, to be exact—would like to make a deal. So Cornick arranged for Pineda to deliver artifacts to Cruz, who then sold them to Novinsky’s smuggling ring.”
“How did Cruz find out about Novinsky?” asked Vega.
“We’re not sure,” said Alton. “Vasquez arrested Cruz for his part in the operation, but so far, he’s not talking. She’s got his fingerprints on the map I found in the cenote, though, and his man admitted to taking shots at us outside Veronica Garcia’s house. Why else would he try to scare off a team investigating artifact smuggling unless he was involved himself?”
“The clincher is Vasquez’s plea deal,” said Mallory. “Pineda gets a lighter sentence in exchange for rolling on Cruz—a criminal Vasquez has been trying to bag for years.”
“So was it one of Cruz’s guys who cut your guide wire in the cenote?” Vega asked Alton.
“Probably, but none of them have admitted it yet. I guess his girlfriend tipped him off quicker than we expected.”
Vega shook his head. “Crazy. But I suppose not any crazier than some of the other cases you’ve worked.”
Alton returned from fetching a breakfast apple from a nearby table of catered food. “That’s for sure.”
Vega examined his two agents with the slightest trace of a grin.
Alton took a bite of the fruit and raised one eyebrow. “I know that expression. What’s up?”
“Have you unpacked your bags yet?”
“Yeah, of course. We’ve been home for three days, and I was running out of clean socks.”
“Hurry and do your laundry, then,” replied Vega. “Because I need you to take a look at a new problem that’s cropped up.”
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FREE PREVIEW OF blood passage, the survival thriller written under the author’s “malcolm pierce” pen name
CHAPTER 1
Where the hell am I?
This is my first thought when my eyes blink open.
I sit up and look around. Everything—walls, floor, ceiling, even the toilet and sink—is constructed of dingy steel. The metallic surfaces reflect no light from a single bulb enshrouded in a heavy metallic shade hanging from the ceiling. A strange, oily smell permeates the room—an odor I’ve encountered before but can’t place where.
This sure as hell isn’t my apartment.
My heart starts to pound, and my palms break out in a cold sweat.
I have a vague sense of waking a few times earlier, staying alert for only a moment before falling back into a dreamless sleep. I’m not sure how long I drifted in and out of consciousness. Hours, probably.
I stand up, inducing a wave of lightheadedness. This isn’t a hangover. Even if I were into drugs or booze, which I’m not, I’d know this is something different. The only time I've experienced this kind of dizziness was a few years back when waking from an appendectomy. It was a strange, loopy sensation, different from garden-variety sleepiness.
I’ve been drugged. It’s the only explanation for staying asleep during my transport here—wherever “here” is.
Fighting the drugs’ lingering effects, I stagger to the room’s single door and pull on the handle. Locked. I’m trapped in some kind of windowless room.
Pounding on the door and shouting brings no one.
Working to calm myself, I try to think through my last memories before finding myself in this place, in case there’s some clue to my arrival here. Last night—I guess it was last night—I was on a late call fixing an HVAC system on the roof of the Lexington building. I made sure the client was happy, then dragged my sleepy ass back to bed back in my apartment in the suburbs north of Indianapolis. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Now I’m in some kind of weird cell. I stand here a moment with my hand still on the door’s metal handle, unsure of what to do. I lean my head against the wall as another wave of dizziness hits. At least, I think it’s dizziness. There’s a gentle rocking sensation—must be a lingering byproduct of the drugs someone slipped me to bring me here.
But my head clears, and the rocking sensation continues. The motion seems strangely familiar. Then it hits me: I’m on a ship. It must be enormous, judging from the almost imperceptible degree of roll. And I remember where I’ve encountered this odd petroleum smell before: the refinery pier at Galveston, Texas. This is an oil tanker.
As this fact sinks in, a lump of fear begins to grip the pit of my stomach. I’m not simply trapped in a locked room. I’m also afloat somewhere on the ocean.
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Book 1: Nefarious
Book 2: Ruthless
Book 3: T Wave
Book 4: Havoc
Book 5: The Devil’s Due
Book 6: The Evolution of Evil
Book 7: Tears of God
Book 8: When the Killing Starts
Book 9: The Dig
Book 10: Coming in 2018. See below for notification when available.
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Author website: www.SteveFreemanWriter.com
Like your thrillers more intense? Author Steven F. Freeman also writes under the name Malcolm Pierce.
Blood Passage
Maintenance supervisor Brian Francisco goes to sleep for the night in his Midwest apartment and awakes to find himself a prisoner aboard an oil tanker at sea.
“An Unforgettable ride” Readers’ Favorite five-star review
Interested in a stand-alone short story? This 30-minute read (not part of The Blackwell Files) makes a perfect bedtime story:
Coming Home
*****
Have you heard the one about the thriller/mystery writer who wrote a children’s book about a dog?
It’s true! In Paw Prints: The True Story of a Three-Pawed Dog, Nicky the three-pawed Maltese wants a forever home but can't seem to find one. Follow his adventures
as he encounters rescue workers, foster families, and a collection of other dogs. Some of the humans he meets are nice, but will he ever find a loving home of his own?
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Author Steve Freeman is a former member of the US Army's Signal Corps, a twenty-nine year employee of a large American technology company, and an avid traveler who has visited every continent but Antarctica. The novels of The Blackwell Files draw from his firsthand knowledge of military service, the tech industry, and the diverse cultures of our world.
He currently lives near Atlanta, Georgia with his wife, daughter, and two dogs.
Visit www.SteveFreemanWriter.com for a complete list of his titles.