Since the incident at the hospital had been an officer-involved shooting, he and Sherry were relegated to desk duty pending an internal review per regulations. He was confident they’d be cleared for fieldwork soon.
“Everything okay here?” Sherry’s head swiveled between him and Swanson. She was attractive in a high maintenance way. He’d heard that she competed on the beauty pageant circuit before joining the police academy. He believed it because he’d never seen her without full makeup and perfectly coiffed hair. She favored impractical heels with designer suits. If she needed to chase a suspect, she’d break an ankle.
“I’m right as rain,” Luca answered. “Just working on paperwork.”
Swanson snorted. “That your fancy way of saying you’re riding the desk for killing a suspect?”
Before he could snap out a retort, Sherry beat him to it. “That’s enough, Erik. We’ve all got work to do.”
Swanson grumbled but focused on his computer.
“Hey, Luca.”
He glanced up to see Isobel Radford placing her purse inside a drawer in her desk adjacent to his. With flawless ebony skin and high cheekbones, she looked more like a supermodel than a cop.
Most of the time, the detectives worked alone. If he did need backup, she was his pick as a partner, not only because she was intelligent but their investigative skills meshed perfectly. They’d solved several cases together.
“I heard you’re benched while the shooting is investigated.”
He grimaced. “Yeah. Fun times.”
She smiled. “Well, I hope they hurry.” She chanced a peek over her shoulder, but Swanson wasn’t paying attention to them. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I hate pairing with him. He’s an ass.”
He chuckled. “I couldn’t agree with you more.”
“I’m headed to the break room. Can I bring you back a drink?”
He needed to ask her questions but didn’t want Swanson to overhear. “I’ll accompany you.” He jumped to his feet and followed.
“Hi, Sherry,” Isobel greeted.
“Hey, Isobel.” Sherry stirred sugar into her coffee cup and headed back to her desk.
Quinn waited until Isobel placed her lunch in the fridge. “I heard you caught the cabin fire. Do you have any leads on who torched it?”
Pausing on the way to the coffee machine, she lifted her brows. “You know about that?”
“I came across the burning ashes when I was hiking with friends.”
“Ah, well, we don’t have much.” Taking a mug from a cabinet, she filled it with the dark brew. “I’m waiting on the arson investigator’s report.”
“Do you know if any bodies were recovered?”
She placed the carafe on the warming plate and turned to him. “Why are you so interested? For all we know, it could’ve been a meth house that caught fire.”
“I spoke with Captain Weaver. He indicated that at least two bombs caused the damage. That sounds like something more sinister than careless druggies.”
She lifted a shoulder. “We’ll know more when they’re done investigating. They haven’t contacted me to let me know about any victims.”
“Will you keep me updated?”
“Sure.”
“Thanks.” Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he returned to his desk to dig up information on Dean Lodge, the firefighter Quinn recognized.
#
Quinn spent the afternoon searching the internet for information on the redheaded firefighter pursuing Vanessa. He now knew Dodge was a nickname for Dean Lodge. Gage was digging into Buck Stanley’s background while Kaiya was doing the same with Reggie Garner. They hoped to tie the three together somehow. They might’ve attended the same school or worked out at a shared gym. He doubted anyone that sold children frequented a church unless it was to worship Satan.
There was precious little to find on Lodge. He’d enlisted as a marine at eighteen and served one tour. He worked construction for a few years before becoming a firefighter, a job he held for the last six years. Nothing remarkable about his career. No accommodations or promotions. He’d been reprimanded once for fighting with a colleague, but no further action had been taken. Quinn pegged him correctly. No ties to a church or a gym, nor to organizations or recreational clubs. No social media presence that Quinn could find. Not even a library card. He was practically a ghost.
Gage and Kaiya ran into the same roadblocks with Garner and Stanley. No smoking gun linking the three men together. There didn’t seem to be any connection between them at all. They hadn’t even attended the same elementary or high school. They didn’t serve in the military together. So how had their paths crossed?
Vanessa slid onto the banquette across from him in the breakfast nook. “Todd’s hanging on, and his vitals are improving.”
“That’s great, honey.” He reached across the table and squeezed her hand.
“Quinn, I’ve been thinking.”
“Uh oh,” he teased because her face had turned serious. “That could be dangerous.”
She didn’t react to his jab. He wasn’t sure she even heard him. When her eyes met his, he knew without a doubt he wouldn’t like the next words from her mouth.
“I want you to use me as bait to lure them out.”
“No way in hell,” he roared. He’d been right. He didn’t like them at all. In fact, it was one of the worst ideas he’d ever heard. He would not allow Vanessa to put herself in harm’s way.
Her palms opened in a pleading gesture. “What options do we have? My videos are gone. The bunker is destroyed. How else are we going to find out who’s behind this and prove my innocence?”
“We’ll figure out a way without putting you in danger.”
“I want my life back, Quinn. I want to be with Todd. My business may never recover the way it is. I have nothing to lose.”
Me, he wanted to say. Would that be enough to persuade her to abandon her ridiculous quest? It would kill him if something happened to her. He wasn’t sure he’d recover.
“There is no discussion here, Vanessa. It’s not happening, now or ever.”
#
Vanessa’s teeth clenched as she stared at Quinn’s unyielding features. Yes, he was helping her, but he had no authority over her. She wasn’t even paying him for his services, so he had no right to tell her what she could or couldn’t do. When it came down to it, it was her decision. She was tired of being a victim. She’d never been one before, and she refused to act like one now.
She wasn’t stupid. She knew it would be dangerous to dangle herself in front of the men like a carrot, but something had to give. She couldn’t stay in hiding forever. As she’d told Quinn, her business may never recover. It was already suffering. She needed to salvage what she could of her practice and her reputation.
“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”
“You can’t order me around, Quinn. I’m not a prisoner.”
“No, you’re not, but I will keep you safe. Don’t doubt that, Vanessa.”
“I don’t. I know you will. That’s why I feel confident putting myself out there to lure the men. I trust you and Kaiya and Gage to protect me.”
“I’ve already lost the respect of the one man who’s the closest I’ve had to a father since mine passed away. I will not lose you, too.”
Man, he went straight for her heartstrings. She knew how much her dad meant to him. It made her sick to think their relationship might be damaged because of her. The lack of communication had been all on her. She’s the one who’d been captured, lost her phone, Quinn’s GPS watch and his cell. She was confident that once she explained the situation to her dad, he’d realize none of it was Quinn’s fault.
She was wasting her time trying to reason with him. He had no intention of taking her idea seriously. “Fine.”
She stood up and walked away. She knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t back down. She didn’t want to, either, but she couldn’t do it alone, so she was stuck. She thought about approaching
Kaiya with her idea, but it felt wrong to go behind Quinn’s back.
What was she supposed to do now? Quinn said she wasn’t a prisoner, but she sure felt like one.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Whenever you wanted to nail a perp, one of the first rules of investigating was to follow the money. With that adage in mind, Quinn had scoured Dean Lodge’s bank accounts. While the amount in his savings was generous, there were no significant withdrawals or transactions except for his paycheck, which was direct deposited. Water, electricity, cable and internet bills were automatically paid from his checking. He didn’t have credit card debt, which was almost a red flag, maybe a fuchsia flag, for a man his age. No wife or ex to pay alimony. No kids, so no child support. He owned his house and truck outright, meaning no mortgage or car payments. Quinn sat up straighter. That was interesting. He hadn’t taken the money from his savings account to pay for the brand-new vehicle.
Quinn was positive the man wasn’t selling children for free. That meant he had an offshore account, probably somewhere like the Cayman Islands, Panama, or Seychelles. Quinn’s computer skills were good, but it would take him a while to track the information down. Instead, he called Tyler Redmond and asked him to look into it.
Half an hour later, Tyler called back. The guy was unbelievable.
“Hey, Tyler.”
“Good call on the offshore account. He’s sitting on close to three million in a bank in Switzerland.”
Quinn whistled. That was a nice chunk of change.
“Regular deposits of a hundred grand at a time are wired in, but I haven’t been able to trace the origin yet. Whoever set it up is damn good, and they’re sending me all over the world. I’ll let you know when I have more.”
He thanked Tyler, disconnected, and relayed the conversation to Gage and Kaiya.
Gage shook his head ruefully. “That would be enough for the FBI to question him if the information hadn’t been obtained illegally.”
“We need to be proactive,” Kaiya stated. “The sooner we question Lodge, the sooner we can shut the trafficking ring down and wrap this up.”
That caused a pang of trepidation to swirl through Quinn. He wanted the men caught and prosecuted for their crimes for sure, and he needed Vanessa safe, but the conclusion of the case meant the end of his time with her. He’d go home, and she’d stay here. Life might go on, but it would never be the same for him. She’d changed everything. He now knew what it felt like to be in love. It was both excruciatingly painful and phenomenally glorious.
He tried to picture life without her. He’d get up in the morning and go to a job he loved, and he’d interact with dogs, coworkers and friends he adored. At night, he’d go home to the house designed specifically for him and fall asleep. It was a good life, but only Vanessa could make it great. Despite having Kilo, his sister, brother-in-law, and soon-to-be niece or nephew close, not to mention the people that were more family than coworkers, he would be lonely. He’d forever wonder what Vanessa was doing and with whom. He wasn’t looking forward to becoming that guy, jealous of any man she would date or God-forbid, marry.
“Quinn?”
He shook his head to clear the morose reflections. “What was that?”
Gage had a way of looking at him like he could read his thoughts. Quite unsettling. “I said, shouldn’t Luca be here by now?”
Quinn glanced at his watch. The detective called to say he was on his way over. He should’ve arrived half an hour ago. Cayleigh had a meeting she couldn’t skip but said she’d try to stop by later. “Something must’ve come up. I’ll give him a call.”
After three rings, it kicked to voicemail. He fired off a text and hit send as a delicious scent drifted to him. He’d come to discover that Vanessa liked to cook when she was worried or stressed.
“Dinner’s ready,” she called out.
She didn’t sound pissed, which was good. He’d been abrupt with her earlier. He’d almost had a heart attack when she volunteered to act as bait to lure Lodge and the others. The thought of anything happening to her wasn’t something he could even consider. He would keep her safe or die trying.
#
Luca Russo never saw the attack coming. One minute he was headed to his vehicle on the way to meet with Quinn and the others, the next, something substantial slammed into his skull with the force of a battering ram. Instant lights out. When he woke, his hands were secured behind his back, and something was strapped around his neck. When he blinked his eyes open, he found himself in an abandoned warehouse. The vast space was drafty and empty save for broken pallets, overturned barrels and garbage. It smelled of mold and mildew and something rotten. Windows up high on the walls were stained or cracked or missing altogether.
“You’re finally conscious. For a while there, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake at all, and what fun would that be?”
He turned his head as much as the restraints would allow. His lip curled in disgust to see Erik Swanson staring back at him. “You sonofabitch,” he spat. “I always knew you were dirty.”
“I finally got you right where I want you, Russo.” He smiled evilly before twisting a handle on a crank. The chain around Luca’s neck tightened, and he was lifted in the air until his toes barely touched a platform beneath his feet. He hissed at the pressure on his windpipe.
“You should’ve come at me like a man,” he wheezed. “It would’ve been a fair fight instead of ambushing me from behind like a coward,”
Swanson reversed the crank until Luca’s feet touched again. He sucked in a much-needed breath.
“That wasn’t me. I’m not afraid of you, Russo. I would’ve come at you head-on, and I’d have taken your sorry ass down.”
“I’m the one who hit you.”
Luca blinked, trying to focus. The lack of oxygen caused his vision to falter. When a face swam into view, he was struck momentarily speechless. “Sherry? You’re involved in this?”
Swanson tugged her to him for a disgusting, sloppy kiss. Huh, he’d never have put them together. He lost all respect he had for the female detective. He’d never had any for Swanson.
Swanson released her, grinning smugly. “Jealous, Russo? Sherry picked me, not you. We’ve been going at it like rabbits for years.”
Classy. “Not even a little bit.”
“What do you mean?” Swanson looked perplexed. “Look at her rack. Her ass is bodacious. She’s every man’s fantasy.”
Not only was she overdone and persnickety, but he didn’t go for heartless, cruel child abusers. “She’s not my type.”
Sherry gasped as if he’d dealt her a physical blow.
“He’s lying,” Swanson assured her. “Everyone wants you, sugar bear.”
That seemed to pacify her, and she turned her attention to Luca. “Why are you so interested in the cabin fire?”
“How do you know about that?”
“I heard you and Isobel talking in the break room.”
“You mean you eavesdropped—ah!” He sputtered when the chain tightened again. He hadn’t been prepared, and he fought to keep his toes in contact with the platform. It was barely relief since the pressure on his neck bordered on excruciating, but he refused to let them know how much it hurt. Much more, and they’d know anyway since he’d be dead.
“Try again, asshole,” Swanson snapped. “You know something. The question is, how much?” He lowered the chain again, and Luca’s feet touched down. Breath sawed in and out of his lungs. “Lie to me, and I’ll jerk you up again. I can do this all night. I don’t think you can. Spill. What do you know?”
At this point, Luca had nothing to lose. They wouldn’t let him live, no matter what. He wasn’t sure he could survive many more yanks of the chain. He wanted answers before he died. “I know a lot. Reggie Garner, Buck Stanley, Dean Lodge and you, Swanson, are part of a child trafficking ring. The cabin in the woods disguised an underground bunker where the children were kept before they were auctioned online.”
Swanson tried
to mask his shock, but Luca was a trained detective. Sherry had no poker face at all. She’d blanched white. “Yeah? Where’s your evidence?” Swanson demanded with false bravado.
With the bunker destroyed and Vanessa’s videos gone, none of this could be proven. They didn’t need to know that tidbit. “That’s for me to know and you to find out.”
Swanson slammed a fist into Luca’s stomach. The force sent him swinging, knocking the wind from his lungs and his toes off the block. The chain tightened around his neck again, cutting off what little oxygen he had left. His feet struggled for purchase as he swung back and forth. He managed to land one foot on the platform to stop the momentum and then the other, sucking in air as the pressure slightly lightened. He was having trouble focusing. His field of vision had narrowed to pinpricks. He was already dealing with a head injury from whatever Sherry smashed into his skull. Repeatedly depriving his brain of oxygen couldn’t be good.
He always knew Swanson was a sadistic bastard, but he couldn’t figure out Sherry’s part. He’d considered her a good cop and a friend. She was most definitely high maintenance, from the weekly manicures to the expensively styled hair to the four-inch heels she insisted on wearing. Despite all that, he’d never looked at her as anything other than a colleague. They’d bounced ideas off each other in the past, and he respected her opinion. To know that she had a part in selling children online was hard to reconcile with the person he thought her to be. Realization dawned. The girls were dolled up for the cameras.
“You did their hair and makeup,” he gritted out accusingly.
Sherry’s silence was all the proof he needed.
His stomach ached worse from Sherry’s duplicity than the blow from Swanson. “Why?”
She shrugged and averted her gaze. Despite his limited sight, he caught the flash of remorse in her eyes. Somewhere inside was a decent person. Could he reach that part of her? “How could you be involved with selling innocent children? You were so good at speaking to the grade-schoolers about safety and bullying. They adored you.” It was true. The young kids hung on her every word.
Worth the Risk (COBRA Securities Book 21) Page 18