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Breaking Point

Page 6

by Allison Brennan


  However, Lucy admitted to her husband Sean that some of the case files she’d analyzed were helpful to her as an agent. Absorbing the thought process of other agents was a valuable learning tool. The way they approached witnesses or victims, the questions they’d asked, things they’d seen—or things that were clearly missing—all helped her become a better agent herself. But she felt underutilized. She’d always been someone who learned best by doing, not reading.

  The last case she had in front of her seemed boring on the surface—insurance fraud. She made the calls, but none of the phone numbers for the three witnesses were working. Odd. Or maybe not—the case was six years old. She made note of the addresses—someone would need to verify the information.

  Done.

  The last thing she had to do was write up a final report for her boss, Rachel Vaughn. She’d kept meticulous notes, and when she was tired of making calls had input the info into the database. She’d be done this afternoon. She smiled in relief and let out a deep breath. Done, done, done!

  Maybe Rachel would send her into the field with a real case, something interesting. She’d take anything at this point.

  She put the last file in the unassigned box. This agent had been transferred to another office—Chicago or New York or Boston. One of the big offices. Whoever Rachel assigned the case would have a clear plan, so Lucy felt she’d done the job required of her. She didn’t want her boss to have any complaints about the quality of her work.

  She went back to her desk to grab her purse. She planned to meet Nate for lunch. Nate Dunning, a fellow agent as well as a friend, wasn’t any happier about her long assignment than she was. Lucy wondered if Nate’s skepticism about Vaughn was because of how Lucy was treated or something more.

  “Hey, Kincaid.”

  She glanced up. Jason Lopez was a new agent. Not a rookie—he’d most recently come from the Phoenix FBI office. He’d worked with Rachel in the past. He started here in San Antonio last month, when Ryan’s transfer to the Austin Resident Agency went through. Ryan wanted to be closer to his two young sons, so it was a good move for him. He’d be the Supervisory Special Agent within a year because the current SSA of the Austin office was retiring. Lucy missed him, but she was happy for him.

  Like Ryan, Jason was bilingual, a huge benefit when working in a culturally diverse community like San Antonio. But like Rachel, the jury was out on him. Lucy had the odd and uncomfortable sensation that he watched her too closely.

  “Hi.”

  “Noon. Right on time.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You leave for lunch every day at noon. Just saying.”

  “Four hours straight of reading files, I need the break.” Why was she justifying herself to him? Better yet, why was he keeping tabs on her? She looked at her watch. 12:20. But she didn’t correct him.

  “Not judging,” he said.

  “I’ll be back in an hour.”

  “I haven’t eaten, care if I join you?”

  “I’m meeting my husband. Maybe next time.” She didn’t know why she’d lied to him, except that she didn’t want him to know she was meeting Nate downtown, out of the way so they could have privacy. She didn’t want her days in the doghouse to rub off on her colleague.

  “Right. The newlyweds.”

  She and Sean had been married for five months. Maybe they were still considered newlyweds, but why comment?

  Maybe she was reading too much into the conversation. She smiled. “See you at one-twenty.”

  She walked out. Why was she so irritated?

  She knew why. It was a culmination of everything that had happened over the last five months.

  After she and Sean married at the end of October, they’d gone on a much needed two-week honeymoon. Rachel started her assignment during that time, and when Lucy returned she felt like she was playing catch up. Two new agents also started during those weeks—replacing agents that had left previously, one into forced retirement and one who went on disability after being injured in the line of duty.

  From the beginning, Lucy felt like she had something to prove—she worked long hours, made sure she did everything asked of her, and did it well. But, Rachel found fault with everything she did.

  “I know you were on vacation when I started, so let me explain how I like reports to be written …

  “I know you’re a newlywed and your mind is not focused on work, so I’ll let this error slide this time …

  “You put in too many hours, Lucy. There is no need to work weekends unless you’re on call. Burnout is a problem with some agents, I don’t want it to happen to you.

  And then January happened, and she had lied to her boss about being sick in order to go to San Diego and investigate the cold case murder of her nephew, Justin. Her boss found out and a bad situation became ten times worse. That’s when she was assigned the cold case files to review and update. And the criticisms continued.

  “Honestly, Lucy, you leave at five every day … some of your colleagues are beginning to question your commitment to this squad.

  “I need a weekly report on your progress, Lucy. And no more going out into the field to verify information—leave that to the agents of record, okay?”

  When she’d commented that she was only going out when the agent of record had left the office, Rachel said, “Separate those cases and give them to the SSA of the division. If there’s something time-critical, bring it to my attention.”

  Lucy could handle the verbal criticism, she figured she needed to atone for her sin of lying to her boss. But ever since Ryan left and Jason arrived, he’d been watching her all the time, walking into the conference room for no apparent reason, sometimes following her out to her car when she left, ostensibly just to chat. But it was never about anything substantive. It was enough to drive her crazy.

  She saw someone sitting in the passenger seat of her car as she approached. Her hand immediately went for her gun until she recognized the man.

  Sean’s brother, Kane.

  She slid into the driver’s seat. “I don’t want to ask how you got past security.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  “You could have called.”

  “I haven’t been waiting long. Going home?”

  “I’m meeting Nate for lunch.”

  “I’ll join you.”

  Her curiosity piqued. “Okay.”

  “I need a favor,” Kane said.

  “Do you want me to cancel Nate?”

  “No.”

  Nothing more. Kane didn’t talk much, but Lucy had gotten used to it. She headed toward the Mexican restaurant she and Nate liked.

  Having her brother-in-law around was comforting. He and Sean had a rocky patch before the wedding, but they’d mended fences. She was thrilled that Kane had settled in Texas. He lived a few hours south, outside Hidalgo, in a house once owned by her brother Jack. Jack had given the property to RCK. With three Rogans and two Kincaids working full-time for RCK, it had become the family business.

  Lucy glanced at Kane. “Why do I think you knew that I was meeting Nate?”

  He winked.

  Lucy wasn’t going to speculate why—Kane was still almost as mysterious as when she first met him.

  Ten minutes later, Lucy parked and they walked into the restaurant. It was one of Lucy’s favorite places, since it reminded her of her mom’s cooking. It was the spices—the slight Cuban flair, more authentic than the popular Tex-Mex fare.

  Nate was already at the restaurant munching on chips and salsa. “Sorry I’m late,” Lucy said, sitting across from Nate.

  “You brought company.” Nate fist bumped Kane. “Sean coming?”

  “No,” Lucy said. “Jason wanted to join me for lunch; I told him I was meeting Sean to get him off my back.”

  “Who?” Kane asked.

  “New agent,” Nate said.

  “Background?”

  “I thought RCK vetted the San Antonio staff after the Rollins escape.”

  “O
ne-time assignment.”

  “Rachel Vaughn brought him in from Phoenix.”

  RCK had vetted Rachel—Lucy was privy to their report. Which made working for her under these conditions doubly odd. Rachel was a solid agent with more than a decade of experience. She’d been ranked in the top ten percent of her class at Quantico, born and raised in Los Angeles, graduated with a dual degree in criminal justice and business economics from UCLA, worked three years for a Wall Street company in New York, then got her masters in Criminal Justice from Syracuse. Did her two rookie years in white collar crimes in San Francisco, then transferred to the Phoenix office and into the violent crimes unit. Three years ago she was promoted to SSA and put in charge of the Tucson Resident Agency, where she had one of the highest clearance rates among all RAs in the country.

  Brad Donnelly, the Assistant Special Agent in Charge of the local DEA office and a good friend of Lucy’s, had known Rachel professionally when he’d been in Phoenix, though they weren’t close. When he first heard she was coming in, he was optimistic—she had a reputation for running an efficient office that cleared cases. Her staff liked her. And so far, everyone on the violent crimes squad seemed to work well with Rachel. Everyone except Lucy.

  Brad had the best insight. He’d come over for dinner one night and Lucy spilled her frustrations.

  Brad said, “Lucy, you’re a smart, independent woman. Rachel is the same. Two strong-willed women working together can cause friction.”

  “Kenzie and Marie don’t seem to have any problems.” Kenzie had been with the unit since before Lucy, and Marie had come on board at the end of Noah’s run, right before Lucy’s wedding. “Neither of them are wimps.”

  Brad laughed. “Kenzie definitely kicks ass, but her years in the military have her working well in a leadership structure and taking direction without question. I don’t know Marie, but she’s only two years out of Quantico. New town, new colleagues, no waves. And wasn’t she a lawyer?”

  “Prosecutor for ten years in Portland.”

  “So she’s doing something completely different. And truthfully, Lucy—you’re unique. You’re a threat to some people who like the status quo. Give Rachel time to warm up. She will.”

  Lucy hoped Brad was right. Because of his insight, Lucy did everything Rachel told her to do, and did it well. But she was still relegated to a desk, and she couldn’t seem to impress her boss with anything.

  After the waitress took their orders, Lucy said, “Enough about work. I assume your visit today isn’t all pleasure.”

  Kane replied, “We have a situation. JT’s sister Bella is missing. She went dark while working deep undercover for a group that rescues sex slaves. No contact for more than forty-eight hours. Normally JT wouldn’t panic, but this situation is more volatile than most. A cop was killed after helping Bella rescue two girls, and she asked her handler for an extraction, but no one has been able to find her. JT thinks she may have been compromised, or will be compromised because her partner doesn’t know where she is. Apparently, no one does.”

  Lucy had never met JT’s sister. She didn’t know much about her other than she’d been a vice cop in Seattle for twelve years before quitting to work for a private organization that located missing persons, specifically runaways and minors sold into the US sex industry. She’d always wanted to meet the woman, but Sean said JT and Bella had had a falling out and it was a sensitive subject, so she didn’t push.

  “What can I do?”

  Kane slid over a piece of paper. Lucy opened it.

  Martin Hirsch.

  “He’s the number two guy, or partnered with someone known by the alias ‘Z.’ No known address, description, nada. I’m looking into it, but so far RCK contacts are stumped. Hirsch has a key associate named Damien. We need everything the FBI has on Hirsch, and if possible an ID on any known associates named Damien. He was most recently in Los Angeles, moved to Phoenix four weeks ago, and is suspected to be in Las Cruces or West Texas—someplace along the I-10 corridor is our guess. El Paso, San Antonio are the two cities that popped as possible.”

  “Because there’s a void,” Lucy said.

  “Exactly. In addition to running him, you more than anyone know the players—those in jail, those who are out, those aligning with a new boss.”

  “Not only me,” she said.

  “You’re not letting Rachel get into your head, are you?” Nate snapped.

  “No—that’s not what I meant. But there’s someone else who might have information.” She glanced at Kane.

  “Marisol.”

  She nodded. “Marisol and Siobhan.”

  Marisol de la Cruz had been trafficked for two years, forced into prostitution with her younger sister. When they got pregnant, the organization that imprisoned them sold their babies on the black market. Kane’s girlfriend Siobhan Walsh had uncovered information that ultimately led to the demise of the criminal enterprise. That criminal enterprise. There was always someone else willing to step up and take over.

  “I should have thought of it.”

  “You did.” Lucy knew Kane, they thought things through the same way. “If you don’t want to drag them into it, I understand.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t want to ask them, especially now.” Marisol’s sister had given birth to twins late last year and Marisol had been reunited with her two-year-old son. It was a bittersweet and emotional time for everyone. “But I’ll talk to Siobhan this afternoon and see what she knows.”

  “At a minimum, she and Marisol will be able to put together a list of locations and underlings who might be approached by Hirsch. It will give us a good starting point.”

  Nate cleared his throat, his eyes skirting toward the door.

  Jason Lopez walked in with Kenzie Malone.

  Impossible. No, not impossible. The jerk.

  “He followed me,” Lucy said.

  Kane immediately tensed beside her.

  Jason and Kenzie spotted them and approached. “Kincaid, Dunning. You must be Sean.”

  Kane looked Jason in the eye and didn’t say a word.

  Lucy said, “This is my brother-in-law, Kane.” She glanced at Kenzie. She seemed as surprised as Lucy that they’d met up here. Lucy often came here—Ryan Quiroz had introduced her to the place when they first started working together on a joint task force and it had become a favorite place of hers and Sean’s—but it was far enough from headquarters that she couldn’t remember ever seeing someone else from work.

  Was he waiting for an invitation to join them? She hoped not.

  Fortunately, their food arrived at that moment, and Kenzie said, “We’ll let you eat. See you later.”

  Lucy watched them sit four booths down. They wouldn’t be able to hear their conversation—not in this place—but she still didn’t feel comfortable with the knowledge that Jason Lopez had followed her.

  Kane asked, “Sean said you were getting shit about what happened in San Diego.”

  “It’s fine,” she said. She didn’t want any more conflict in her workplace. And while Kane might mean well, she didn’t want anyone else to fight her battles. She’d made Sean promise not to involve himself.

  “It’s bullshit,” Nate said.

  She gave Nate a look and mouthed, You’re not helping.

  He ignored her.

  “I’ll take care of it,” she said. She had to do something, but she had to put all that aside for now. Finding JT’s sister would be a welcome diversion from the drudgery that her job had become.

  “Anything else I need to know about Hirsch or Bella?” Lucy asked as she spooned extra hot salsa onto her tostada.

  “JT and Jack are in Phoenix. JT wants to talk to the two young girls Bella rescued. They may have information on where Hirsch is headed or details about his plan. They’ll have more intel after that.” He paused, glanced over to where Kenzie and Jason were sitting. They seemed to be involved in their own conversation. Quietly, Kane said, “A Phoenix cop who helped Bella and her partner rescue the gi
rls is dead. We don’t know how he was captured, but he was shot and tortured, then his body dumped in a remote area outside Scottsdale. He was working off-book.”

  Lucy’s stomach tightened. “Do you think he gave up Bella?”

  “No way to know, but her partner thinks not. We need a handle on the situation, locate her, then JT will make the call as to whether we extract her.” He looked from Lucy to Nate. “That won’t be a government op.”

  “JT has been there for Sean and me every time we’ve needed him,” Lucy said. “Anything you need, I’m with you.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  When Lucy returned to the office, it was quiet. She ran Martin Hirsch in the criminal database. Two records popped up from New York. The first: a rape conviction at the age of nineteen—he served three of a six-month sentence. Three months for rape. Lucy didn’t know the details, but it seemed slack. He must have had a good lawyer because he wasn’t required to register as a sex offender, and the charge was listed as a misdemeanor.

  Then, three years after he got out, he was arrested in a joint FBI/NYPD/DEA drug sting. Possession with intent, again pled down to a misdemeanor, and served one year on an eighteen-month sentence.

  She made note of his lawyer—Gretchen Barton. Same lawyer both times. After Lucy’s work on the black market baby case, she realized that some lawyers were far less scrupulous than others—and much harder to pin a crime on.

  Nothing on Hirsch in twenty years. He served his time, lived in Brooklyn during his probation, then left the state. She searched other databases. She couldn’t access tax records without a warrant, but she learned his permanent residence was in Las Vegas. He was in his early forties, but there were no current photos. She downloaded his mugshot and emailed it to her personal account. Tonight, she’d play around with age enhancement software and see if they could get something more current from that.

 

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