Fatal Secrets f-2

by Allison Brennan

  “No. Sam and Trace have been following her all afternoon. She withdrew over two hundred thousand U.S. dollars, plus whatever was in a safe-deposit box, and made flight arrangements to Canada. I told them to detain her and bring her in for questioning.”

  “I want to be there for that one,” she said.

  “I’ll be ten minutes, then we’ll go.”

  Sonia called Simone Charles to find out if she’d learned anything from the three women who’d been killed and left in the warehouse.

  “Actually, yes,” Simone said.

  “And?”

  “They were all pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?”

  “Anywhere from two to four weeks.”

  Sonia did the math. “Four weeks was about the time they were kidnapped.”

  “There were signs of repeated rapes. Bruising, tearing. I have the embryos for DNA testing against possible suspects. You find them, I’ll nail them. Gladly.”

  “How’d they know the girls were pregnant?” Sonia thought out loud.

  “What? You think they knew?”

  “They had to. It makes sense.” Her stomach churned and she swallowed uneasily. “You don’t just kill your meal ticket for no reason. They must have given them pregnancy tests when they arrived.”

  “Oh shit, I think you’re right.”

  “What evidence could you have?”

  “The test sticks. You know-you pee on them and they turn blue if you’re pregnant. When we were processing the scene we found dozens of them tossed into a corner with trash.”

  “Do you know exactly how many?”

  “Just a sec-” Sonia heard the shuffling of paper. “Thirty-seven.”

  “And three were blue?”

  “Possibly, I don’t have that here, and the biological evidence would be contaminated at this point. But why kill the pregnant women?”

  “Because abortions are more expensive than murder.” Sonia’s voice cracked. “And they wanted to intimidate me.”

  “That’s sick.”

  “You don’t know the half of it. Let me know if you find anything else.” She hung up and squeezed her eyes shut. Took a deep breath, then another, then another. But the damn tears came out; she couldn’t stop them.

  They were so close, but they needed more information. Better information. Jones’s journal was their only hope, but the analysts had only theories, no facts.

  But Charlie could help. He knew more than he was saying. He might not know exactly where, but he’d been with Jones for months. He could narrow it down, make an educated guess.

  Dean walked in, dressed in a white T-shirt and Dockers. She hadn’t seen him looking so casual. His hair was still wet and he was holstering his Glock. “Ready?” He looked at her and frowned. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

  She wiped away the remnant of her tears. “The women who were killed in the warehouse? They were pregnant. I think that’s why they were killed.”

  Dean hugged her tightly. There really was nothing to say.

  Sonia relished the comfort, breathed in Dean’s fresh-scrubbed scent. She wished she had more time. She took a deep breath and said, “I want you to let Charlie help.”

  Dean’s entire body stiffened and he stepped back, his face unreadable. But she felt his anger, and disbelief, vibrating off his rigid body.

  Sonia continued, nervous but gaining confidence in her idea. She began to pace, a bad habit but the constant movement helped her focus her thoughts. “I promised him I wouldn’t arrest him if he met with me. He gave us good information. He lived up to his end of the deal. And we now know he didn’t lead the sniper to us, that was Gleason and the bug in the conference room.”

  “You don’t know that he wasn’t party to that,” Dean said in a low voice.

  “For what reason?” She threw her hands up in the air and stared out the window. Downtown traffic had decreased on the tail end of rush hour. Time was slipping away.

  “You had him fired, for one.”

  “That was ten years ago.” She turned around, faced Dean. She didn’t like that she couldn’t read him, that he stared at her so dispassionately. Bile rose up her throat as she thought about what might have been. She had thought he understood her, but maybe she had been wrong. Maybe she wasn’t worthy of love or any of the security she’d longed for.

  She said, “Charlie could have killed me the other night in my house. Dean, please listen. Please understand. He doesn’t want to kill me, and he’s not working with the bad guys.”

  “I cannot believe you are defending him.”

  Sonia took a deep breath. Her uncertainty and confusion turned to anger. “I’m not! I’ve never defended him or what he did to me. Dammit, Dean, you didn’t live through it! You weren’t there. I’ve lived with what happened for ten years. Not just what happened to me, but going through the hearings, telling what happened to a panel full of bureaucrats-most of whom had never been in the field, who had no idea what we faced every day. I was cross-examined, I was questioned, I was made to feel guilty even though I had nothing to be guilty about-except naivete and trusting my partner. This righteous anger of yours-don’t take it on for me. There’re more important things at stake. Charlie can help. He was in Jones’s operation for months. He may know something to help us find those women before it’s too late!”

  Dean stepped toward her and grabbed her by the arms, pulled her to him so their faces were inches apart. She thought he had been still as a rock, but she felt his muscles vibrating. “I hate him for what he did to you. That man is selfish, he doesn’t consider anyone but himself, never thinks of the consequences or who might be hurt. I can’t forget, it’s eating me up inside. I can’t forget because it happened to you. You, Sonia Knight, I can’t get you out of my mind. You complete me. You make me want more than this job. I want you. I think about what he did and see red. I feel your pain here.” He pounded his chest. “I look at you with such pride, knowing that most people would never have recovered from such an evil betrayal. Evil-that’s what Charlie Cammarata did. He may not have thought it through, he made excuses to himself to justify it, but he should have been in prison.”

  Dean was shaking. Tears rolled down Sonia’s cheeks and she reached for his face. His mouth turned and kissed her hand, then his arms were around her, holding her tight, his lips on her lips, pulling her as close as he could, close to his body, his heart, his soul. Sonia felt every ounce of anger and passion and love pouring out of Dean. It humbled her and empowered her.

  She kissed him, her hands around his neck, his hands fisted in her back. He kissed her neck, her ear, got down on his knees and held her, his face pressed against her stomach. His body shook and she dropped to her knees, took his face into her hands.

  “Dean-” she whispered.

  He stared at her, his eyes red with unshed tears. “I can’t lose you, Sonia.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “You won’t.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Dean sent two agents to bring Charlie Cammarata from the West Sacramento jail to FBI headquarters. Sonia was working with Sam Callahan in the war room putting together a map and search grid. She was certain that the women were being held on property owned by Jones or one of his three primary clients, and Dean concurred. Unfortunately, though the analysts were making great headway with Jones’s journal, they’d been premature in their declaration of knowing where the girls were being held. They did confirm, however, that Jones had paid two thousand U.S. dollars for their abduction.

  Sam and Sonia were more than capable of coming up with a game plan. Dean needed to meet one-on-one with the man who had become a wild card-not only in this investigation, but in Dean’s relationship with Sonia. Whether Sonia realized it or not, Cammarata stood between them and the future.

  The agents brought the former immigration agent into an interview room. Cammarata took one look at Dean and scowled.

  Dean motioned for him to sit.

  “How about taking off these handcuffs?”r />
  “Not until we have an agreement,” Dean said. He waited for the agents to leave, then sat down across from Cammarata.

  “You can’t hold me. You have nothing on me. No case. I haven’t done anything.”

  “Possession of fake identification and social security number, which is a federal crime.”

  “Misdemeanor.”

  “Possession of a concealed weapon without a CCW.”

  “Misdemeanor.”

  “Aiding and abetting a known trafficker. Obstruction of justice. Concealing information from a federal law enforcement officer. Resisting arrest. Breaking and entering. I think we’re getting into some pretty good felonies now.”

  Cammarata scowled. “What the fuck do you want, Hooper?”

  “I’d like you in prison. But I’m giving you an offer.”

  “I’ll take my attorney.”

  Dean slammed his palm on the table. “That’s not an option.”

  “I’m sorry, when was the Constitution repealed?”

  “I don’t like you.”

  “The feeling is mutual.”

  “The only reason you’re here is because Sonia thinks you will help.”

  At the mention of Sonia’s name, Cammarata’s eyes shifted. He swallowed uneasily, asked gruffly, “She okay, after today?”

  Dean didn’t answer the question. “This is the deal. You help us locate the Chinese women Omega transported into the area, and I let you go.”

  “If I knew where they were, I would have told Sonia.”

  “Just like you gave her the journal? A day late and a dollar short?”

  Cammarata leaned forward. “You don’t know anything about me or Sonia.”

  Dean wasn’t going to rise to the bait, but his gut churned. “I know you pretend to care about her, but she’ll be the first you’ll sacrifice if it gets you what you want.”

  “What do you know about what I want? My record was stellar.”

  “Your record was built on the backs of other agents you used or sacrificed so you could take the credit and glory. You’re right, I don’t understand you. I don’t understand how you could sell your own partner and not even send in backup.”

  “We saved dozens of innocent civilians.”

  “And you were willing to let Sonia die.” Dean stood. “Sonia has more compassion in her little finger than you have in that huge ego you carry. She seems to have forgiven you. I haven’t. I never will. You have two choices. Agree to help, share all information you know, adhere to all my conditions, and I’ll grant you immunity for your part in this fiasco. Or you can go back to jail and I will have you prosecuted for every last charge the U.S. attorney and I can come up with. But you will never get out of prison. Those are your choices. You have five minutes.”

  Dean walked out and shut the door. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to work with that bastard. But they had little to no choice at this point. Time was running out, and Sonia’s idea was that somewhere in that man’s memory was information that would lead them to the women. If that was the case, Dean had to use him. Lives were at stake. Sonia’s life was at stake until they stopped this ring of traffickers.

  He didn’t have to like it.

  Bob Richardson came around the corner. “Did he agree?”

  “He’s thinking.”

  “I sent out the press release and photos of Ling and Devereaux and am giving a statement as soon as the media gets here. This is a risk.”

  “I know. But we have to do it. Devereaux is in hiding and as long as he’s free, Agent Knight is in danger. Not to mention the captive women. I feel like we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t.”

  “I hear you. But you’re right, it’s our only option at this point. You take anyone you need.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Richardson walked away and Dean glanced at his watch. He walked back into the interview room.

  Without looking at him, Cammarata said, “I’ll do it. I want it in writing.”

  “My word is going to have to be good enough for you.” He uncuffed him, but didn’t let down his guard.

  Cammarata looked like he wanted to punch him, but didn’t.

  “Show me what you have.”

  Sonia tensed when she saw Charlie walk into the conference room. Neither he nor Dean looked happy with the arrangement, and she wasn’t one hundred percent sure they were doing the right thing. But they were stuck. Devereaux, or someone else on his orders, had already brutally murdered three of the women and Sonia had no doubt they would kill others if it would further the criminals’ goals.

  Sonia made a quick introduction of Charlie Cammarata as a civilian consultant in this investigation and caught Dean’s eye. She couldn’t read him again, but she’d never forget his brief, powerful emotions in his apartment. Dean Hooper was the personification of the saying “still waters run deep” and Sonia would never doubt his compassion or honor.

  “Mr. Cammarata has some knowledge of Xavier Jones’s movements during the weeks prior to his murder and can hopefully help us narrow the search.”

  Sam said, “I’m concerned that if we start an open search we’ll spook them and they’ll run.”

  “They’ll kill the women first,” Sonia said, glancing at Charlie for confirmation. He nodded. She continued, “Based on information Mr. Cammarata had from Jones, the women are likely being held in a secure facility in the foothills. It needs to be accessible to small planes or helicopters, as well as vehicle traffic. But it also needs to be remote and a place where a civilian wouldn’t stumble onto it by accident.”

  Dean crossed the room and stood next to her. “It’s privately owned and most likely on Rio Diablo tribal lands.”

  “Rio Diablo?” Sam said. “We can’t go there.”

  “That’s exactly why it’s there,” Dean said. He gestured toward a whiteboard where he had columns of numbers under the headings of RIO DIABLO, WEBER, OMEGA, XCJ SECURITY, XCJ CONSULTING. “After we went further back into XCJ Consulting records, we came up with these large transactions. The statute of limitations has expired on this, but it shows a pattern that we were then able to overlay to current payments.” He quickly went through the list. “You can see that payments increased over a twelve-year period, from the time Jones opened his consulting firm. Secondarily, the three clients paid Jones’s security company for personnel and other security measures that are incredibly difficult to track or confirm. The lobbying activities are suspect as well, as the money paid to XCJ is far more than what similar companies would make from the same sort of clients.”

  Charlie asked, “So what’s your point? They were paying Jones, probably paying him for protection or as a bribe. Big fucking deal. There is far more at stake here.”

  Sonia cringed, realizing that she had thought something similar when she first learned of the racketeering and money laundering investigation. She said, “Charlie, the point is, Agent Hooper has figured out how Jones laundered his trafficking money.”

  “He’s dead, so there’s no point. You can’t put him in prison, Eliot Ness,” Charlie said smugly.

  Dean ignored Charlie and said, “We now believe that Jones was giving the three entities the money to pay his fees. There was two hundred fifty thousand the first year, three hundred the second year, and it’s gone up exponentially since-last year it topped fifteen million.”

  Sam shook his head. “So he receives the money as legitimate income, pays taxes, and it’s clean.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I don’t believe this,” Charlie rolled his eyes.

  Sonia snapped. “I don’t care what you believe, Charlie. You’re missing the big picture. Rio Diablo is a recognized Native American tribe. We have no jurisdiction. We can’t go search their land or issue search warrants. We have to go through their tribal council-”

  “Which will take time and cost us in leaks,” Dean finished for her.

  “That’s it,” Sonia said.
“They’re there, on that land.” She turned to the big map, took a red Sharpie, and traced the boundaries of Rio Diablo land. “That’s about a thousand acres.”

  “I’ll go check it out,” Charlie said.

  “No,” Sonia and Dean said simultaneously.

  “We go in smart,” Dean said. “No mavericks in this. If we’re going to get a conviction we need to do it right.”

  “What about the girls?” Charlie said. “You fucking Fibbies only care about your clearance rate. Do you even care about the fate of those China dolls?”

  “Charlie!” Sonia said and crossed the room. “Don’t even go there. If we don’t catch the people responsible, they’ll keep doing it, and they’ll be smarter next time. The only reason we’re this close to nailing them is because ICE and the FBI are working together and sharing information. Something I know you have a hard time with. Either you help us or you can go back to jail.”

  “So you drank the Kool-Aid,” Charlie mumbled.

  “I don’t know you,” Sonia whispered, deep sadness spreading through her chest.

  Charlie looked stunned. “Sonia, I am trying to help, which is why I need to go in alone. I know that area. I’ve been on Rio Diablo land. Jones went up there every week. He’s tight with the three leaders of the tribe. There’re only a dozen people in the tribe, I didn’t think much of it, but what a scam. They’re building a casino, great location, too.”

  “Even if I trusted you, you’re not going up there alone. But if you really want to help, go over to that map”-she pointed-“and identify where those girls are being held.”

  He wanted to say something; she saw it in his face, in the way his mouth opened slightly, then snapped shut. He walked past her and she breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed her forehead.

  When she looked up, Dean was watching her. He gave her a half-smile and nod, and her headache faded to the background. He held her gaze for a moment, then followed Charlie to the map.

  “This is all pretty heavily forested,” Charlie said.

  Sam stood next to him. “I know this area fairly well. Not Rio Diablo land, but the Sierra Nevadas. This was all mining country, from Nevada County up north, down to past Calaveras. Gold, silver, copper. There’re roads all over … here, here, here.” He highlighted them. “All those can handle a good-sized truck.”