TRAFFICKED: A Mex Anderson Novel

by Peg Brantley

“What?”

  “Since you won’t talk to me, I google you. Once a week. I do have access to the internet here.”

  “Of all the places you could have run to, you chose Monterrey. I bought you a place in Aspen Falls and you walk away.” Mex swallowed and took a deep breath. “Have you fallen back into your old habits?” Mex tasted bile in his throat and swallowed again.

  “Teo, please. Let me help you.”

  “Both of you, settle down. You can get into all of that later.” Cade took the phone from Mex’s hands and turned the speaker toward her. “What have you heard?”

  “There’s a man in Monterrey. Quite wealthy. He has a connection to the cartel but he’s not a member. He has a reputation for having, um, unique tastes when it comes to women.”

  “A lot of men have what might be called ‘unique tastes.’ What exactly are you talking about?” Mex asked.

  “He likes them young. American. Entitled.”

  “Entitled?”

  “An attitude that says they’re All It. Rich bitches.”

  Mex looked at Cade. Together they said, “Alexis.”

  “Why do you think he might have our girl?” Cade asked.

  “Because the word is he has a new one. That she only arrived a few days ago and is now at his estate.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Mex said. “So what? Guys get girls every day. There are thousands of girls, even a few rich bitches. What makes you think she’s Alexis Halston?”

  “Rumor has it she’s from Colorado.”

  Mex took a breath. “I’ll be in Monterrey tomorrow. At the Safi. I’ll call you when I arrive.”

  “Good. That’s good,” Sedona said.

  “What’s the man’s name?”

  “Sergio Montonaldo.”

  “What do you know about him?”

  “Only that he’s untouchable by the police and even the drug lords want to impress him.”

  Mex pushed away from the phone.

  “Teo? Are you there?”

  Mex shook his head.

  “It’s been good to talk to you.”

  He got up and walked away.

  “Teo?”

  “Thanks for your help, Sedona,” Cade said. “Mex and I both appreciate what it took for you to reach out.”

  Mex’s next call was to Darius who’d gone home to make sure his family remembered him.

  “I have a question I’ve got to ask,” Darius said after Mex filled him in, including the fact that Mex had been unable to find squat about the man named Montonaldo.

  “Shoot.”

  “This is information you received from Sedona, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Could it be another setup?”

  Mex was silent.

  “Mex, dude. I’ve got to ask.”

  “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

  “You don’t know what they might have promised her. She’s back in Monterrey. She’s apparently moving around in the same old crowd. And even though you reunited one cartel family, you still have a lot of enemies in Mexico.”

  Mex felt the familiar stab in his gut. Sometimes moving ahead meant looking at ghosts. “Get me everything you can on this guy. Like I said, I couldn’t find shit. You’re going to have to go deep and use your contacts. I want to know what I’m walking into in Monterrey.”

  “I will. But book a suite,” Darius said. “I’m coming. You’re not doing this without me.”

  “Pamela won’t be happy.”

  “You don’t know my Pammy.”

  “My friend, I’m afraid that two small children and a new baby might bring out a side of your Pammy you’ve not seen before.”

  “You’re worried about nothing. We’re solid. What about weapons?”

  “I’ve contacted my source.”

  “Is Cade coming?”

  “She’s got her hands full with Jayla’s mom and Olivia’s parents.” Mex paused. “And Darius?”

  “Yeah?”

  “See if you can find out what Sedona is up to as well.”

  “I was going to anyway.”

  According to the Weld [County, Colorado] District Attorney affidavit, from October 2012 to April 2014, Burman, who went by the name of Haylo, induced several victims, both adults and teenagers, to engage in prostitution with numerous men. He would provide them with alcohol and drugs, and threaten them to force them to stay in his prostitution ring, always keeping the money for himself. Once, he even raped one of the girls, the release stated.

  —Jury convicts Greeley man of 32 counts in human sex trafficking case, Greeley Tribune, August 12, 2016

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Cade had the airlines text boarding passes to both Mex and Darius. The hotel confirmation was sent as well.

  The logistics out of the way, she tried to figure out why she didn’t feel optimistic about this venture. Part of her reluctance was surely to do with Mex’s sister. At least they weren’t trusting her completely. Mex and Darius weren’t walking into the situation blind.

  Then, assuming the information from Sedona was accurate, the fact that this Sergio Montonaldo was someone who even the drug lords looked up to unnerved her. Drug lords were deadly. The cartels had tentacles that spread money far and wide, buying a sick loyalty from those whose pockets they lined. If the cartels bowed to this man, how much power did he wield?

  What level of protection would he have at his disposal?

  Cade checked Mex’s meds to make sure he had enough, then set the bottle out where he’d be certain to see it when he packed.

  She knew better than to try and talk Mex out of heading to Monterrey. Confrontations were not unfamiliar to him. When he was after the truth, when he was after what he felt was right, nothing could stop him. Add to that the prospect of saving a young woman and there was nothing Cade could say that would dissuade him.

  And frankly, she wouldn’t love him as much if she could.

  But she now knew why she didn’t feel good about this venture. Sedona couldn’t be trusted. Sergio Montonaldo had resources and money and power to put them all into the dirt. And Mex battled depression. Usually he won, but in circumstances like this? Where his sister was involved and stirring up his memories? The very events that began his illness?

  What the hell was there to like about this operation?

  Mex walked into the room. “Are you missing your morning hikes?”

  “Ah, mon cher, you know I am. But they’ll be waiting for me when we finally get home. What we’re doing is important and I’m a big enough girl to set what I might want aside.”

  Mex drew her up and looked into her eyes. “You know what you mean to me.”

  “Tell me.”

  “You give me a reason to wake up. You inspire me. You make me a better man. I love you, Acadia LeBlanc.”

  “Sure, get all romantic when you’re about to board a plane to confront a man even the cartel leaders fear. Make me get all tingly just before you go get your ass killed. Thanks a lot, Mex Anderson.”

  “Tell me what I mean to you.”

  Cade looked into his eyes, pulled his head to hers, and kissed him long and deep. “Let me show you instead.” She took his hand in hers and led the way to the suite’s bedroom.

  Sussex County, Del.- Authorities say an eight-month investigation into a human trafficking ring operation in Sussex County has led to the arrests of two men….Police said the female victims involved were only provided with minimal amounts of heroin, and basic items like fast food and clothing.

  —Pair Charged With Human Trafficking in Sussex County, by Kye Parsons

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Mex and Darius watched as their driver maneuvered elegantly through the most recent criminal activity on Monterrey’s streets. While other cars had been stopped in a long search line, their driver and the logo of the hotel emblazoned on the side of the limousine seemed to magically open pathways for them to travel.

  The cartels and their rivalries only seemed to be strengthening. Mex was gl
ad Cade hadn’t joined them. He’d only worry.

  “Tell me what you learned about my sister,” Mex said. He hadn’t been ready to hear about her until he had no choice.

  Darius opened his tablet and pressed a few keys. “Sedona is working as a governess for three children in San Pedro, outside Monterrey. She comes into the city frequently—field trips for her charges, errands, personal time, whatever.”

  “Is she using?”

  “None of my intel pointed to any drug use whatsoever. Nor is she dating anyone on a consistent basis.”

  Mex grunted. His sister was unusually beautiful. Long, wavy dark hair, on the tall side, with the same gray-green eyes as his. He seriously doubted she lacked of relationships.

  “Tell me about the family she’s working for.”

  “They're American citizens. Sedona cares for twin girls who are ten, and a boy, seven. The father is an executive at Carson, a manufacturing company that makes air conditioning equipment with a plant in Monterrey. The family has been in San Pedro for almost six years.”

  “And the mother?”

  “She died four years ago. I don’t know how. All I’ve been able to find is an obituary.”

  “Keep looking. Do you have a photo of the father?”

  Darius swiped his screen a couple of times. “Here. This is Kenneth Maxwell.” He turned his tablet to face Mex.

  A handsome man. Haunted eyes. Sallow complexion. Emotionally flat.

  “Where was this taken?”

  “The funeral service for his wife.”

  Mex figured that any picture taken of him at the funeral service of his family would have had the same result. He couldn’t judge the man based on this depiction. “Anything more recent?”

  Darius depressed a few keys. “This was taken a few months ago. It’s blurry, but it’s definitely Maxwell.”

  Even unfocused, Mex saw engaged eyes and a brilliant smile. He’d bet anything that Sedona was behind both. No wonder she wasn’t dating anyone publicly.

  Mex brought out his phone and began scrolling through his contacts.

  “We’re in Monterrey. Can you join us for dinner?”

  “Where?”

  “We’re staying at the Safi and exhausted from traveling. I don’t know if they still have the no visitation policy in place, so let’s plan on meeting in the lobby at seven. I’ll have reservations at the restaurant.”

  Because of the drug violence in the city, the Safi had increased its security measures to the extent that no unregistered people could visit their guest’s rooms. Other hotels would accept the registration of IDs at the front desk, but not the Safi. It was both a comfort and a hassle.

  “I’ll be there,” Sedona said. “Mex?”

  “Yes?”

  “I hope I can help. I hope my information might help you save that girl.”

  Mex dared not respond.

  “I know nothing I can ever do will make up for the things I did in Agua Prieta. I was a different person then.”

  Sedona stopped talking but still Mex didn’t respond.

  Her voice dropped, almost to a whisper. “I hope my information—working with you—might be a step in building a connection between us.”

  “I will accept your information, Sedona, with healthy skepticism. But as far as a connection between us? Don’t kid yourself. I’m here for a girl and her family. To me you’re a tool, nothing more.”

  Mex waited so long he thought something might have happened to their connection. He was about to hang up.

  “I understand. I’m grateful to be a tool.”

  Mex could sense the tears rolling down Sedona’s face.

  “I’ll be at the Safi by seven,” Sedona said.

  “Fine. See you then.”

  A Greenwood Village [Colorado] man has been sentenced to four years in prison in a child pornography case involving the most images and videos ever prosecuted in the 18th Judicial District…. In all, investigators recovered more than 100,000 pictures and 300 videos depicting child pornography.

  —Arapahoe County Media Release, Sept. 1, 2016

  CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE

  Mex sat at a secluded table inside the restaurant and swirled a drink in front of him. Darius was stationed in the lobby to greet Sedona. Mex had no desire to wait for her. To greet her.

  To see her.

  Thank goodness Cade had made sure to pack his medication. Memories of the worst time in his life were falling into his head and turning his world dark. His life ended that day as much as it would have ended had someone slit his throat. It took Cade to bring him back to the living.

  He signaled the waiter to bring him another drink. He knew he shouldn’t indulge in alcohol on top of his meds, but this next hour or two required it. He preferred a bit of numbness in order to deal with Sedona.

  Speaking of which.

  Sedona wound her way to his table, Darius behind her. She looked normal. No horns. No sign of the evil she’d helped produce.

  Suddenly Mex was transported to another memory. Sedona was about four years old. She’d lost a balloon from a local street fair and cried as if the world had come to an end. Mex had taken her by the hand and gone back to the fair to buy another balloon. His sister’s tears dried, her joy apparent, Mex had understood for the first time how small things mattered.

  He’d have given his life for Sedona in those days.

  The waiter approached with the new drink as Sedona and Darius reached the table. He waited expectantly.

  “Water for me, thank you,” Sedona said in Spanish.

  “I’ll have whatever he’s having,” Darius pointed to Mex’s drink.

  The waiter nodded and moved off.

  The pair seated themselves and waited for Mex to say something.

  Uncomfortable, Darius shifted in his chair. “Thank you for being willing to help, Sedona.”

  “It’s a small way for me to begin to make amends.”

  “Very small,” Mex said.

  Darius cleared his throat. “Thank you nonetheless.” He glared at Mex. “Our goal here, our purpose here, is to find a young woman who is more than likely going through hell even while we sit in the restaurant of this luxury hotel.” He kicked Mex’s foot. “Are we in agreement?”

  Mex expelled his breath like Vesuvius venting. “I suppose.”

  “What do you know, Sedona, that could help your brother and me find this girl?”

  “Did you research Sergio Montonaldo?”

  “I tried. It’s a more common name than I would have guessed,” Darius said.

  Sedona nodded. “It is. And this particular Sergio Montonaldo would have the means to keep his secrets secret.”

  “How do you know about him?” Mex asked.

  “I have friends in Monterrey who surprisingly enough don’t wish to drag me back into my old life. And yet they still want to spend time with me. Talk to me. And that includes gossip.”

  Mex slapped his glass to the table. “We’re here because of gossip?”

  Sedona straightened her back. “You’re here because I have credible information that will lead you to a missing American girl who happens to be rich and blonde. A girl whose parents have hired you to find and bring home.”

  “Then prove it.”

  She looked at Darius. “Did you bring the map I asked you to bring?”

  Darius produced a map of the surrounding Monterrey area and spread it on the table.

  Sedona studied it for a few seconds and then planted a finger. “Here. This is where Montonaldo’s estate is located.”

  “You know this how?” Mex asked.

  “I’ve been to parties.”

  A [whore]monger who uses the online handle “ohiosensi” posted his two-star review of the Powell Amsun on Oct. 7, mere weeks after the spa opened. His review covers the cost of services and the ages of the women working at the parlor, as well as their hair and eye color, hair length and breast size. He checks off the various services one could expect to receive there. Ohiosensi writes he d
idn’t get the name of the girl who gave him his “nice” and “light” massage, then went into more graphic detail about where his roaming hands were allowed (or not) and how the massage ended. The entire review is written as if he’s talking about the latest Short North steakhouse.

  — The Stubborn Cycle of Massage Parlor Trafficking, by Justin McIntosh in Columbus Monthly, May 2015

  CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR

  After the waiter left with their orders, Mex carefully unfolded his napkin and placed it in his lap. “Tell us about Montonaldo,” he said quietly.

  “Sergio Montonaldo is powerful. More powerful than any drug lord. His wealth seems limitless.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Mid-forties. He’s in excellent physical shape. Drugs were never an issue for him.”

  “How do you know he has an affinity for young, blonde, American women?”

  “Because your Alexis is not his first. And it’s more than women who are young and blonde and American. They must have an attitude of entitlement. Spoiled. Opinionated. Borderline narcissistic.”

  Mex bit his tongue.

  “Where does he get his money?” Darius asked.

  “The best I can tell, all over the place. I don’t know where he got his money initially, but now he has investments all over the world, from real estate to oil to pharmaceuticals to entertainment.”

  “How many girls has he gone through?” Mex asked.

  Sedona hesitated.

  “How many?” Mex asked again.

  Sedona looked away and then met her brother’s eyes. “In the last year I’ve heard of at least six, maybe more.”

  “And those are the ones you’ve heard of,” Mex said in a whisper.

  “How many people live on his estate?” Darius asked, anxious to bring the subject back to something they could control.

  “His staff is enormous. He has household staff as well as people for the stable, garages and grounds. Probably around thirty full-time, plus people who would be brought in for special projects.”