Black Moon: Hamarsson and Dempsey 3

by Keaton, Elle

  “Bingo. Records, electronic transfers, deposits, it could be anything. Maybe money too; maybe Duane was keeping too big of a cut. Who knows what it is, but he wants it or wants to destroy it.”

  “Back to my earlier question: do you think she’ll run?”

  “At this point, she’s about to wet her pants if somebody looks at her sideways. She’s cornered and doesn’t know whether to run or dig a deeper hole and try to hide. In my opinion, I think she’s going to rabbit. They always do—just when they should sit tight and ride out the storm, they run.”

  “I really have to go. Stay there for now. If she does leave, follow her. Don’t let her out of your sight. And check in when you can. Oh, and Niall?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you have bad luck with women.”

  Niall snorted, and Mat clicked off, his mind swirling with the information Niall had given him. He was positive the man Tom Bellows had identified as Cooper’s friend, who had been identified by the feds as Franjo Petyr, was the man who’d assaulted Raisa and killed Duane Cooper. There was too much pointing this man’s direction. It was circumstantial for now, but the hard evidence would come to light. It was trying to right now; they just needed a break.

  Petyr had to have been Duane’s partner all these years. Or maybe, like Niall had said, Duane had been the middleman, picking up goods in one place and depositing them in another—still illegal as hell. And what had they been smuggling? Mat hoped Duane hadn’t knowingly stooped to human trafficking. The thought made him sick, that someone had so little regard for human life they reduced others to dollar signs and sold them as a commodity. In Mat’s mind, people like that no longer qualified as human.

  “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Mat said as he eased back into the crowded interview room. Squeezing in between Birdy and Gómez, he sat back down and set his notepad on the table. They were all looking at him, seemingly waiting for him to speak.

  “Well, what’s the plan?” he asked.

  “Sheriff,” Klay began. “We’ve been searching for Raisa Melnik for over a year. She’s the only witness we have against Franjo Petyr, and we want her back alive and safe. When Jorgenson saw her here, we knew we had to act fast, before she disappeared again.”

  “Well,” Mat said stubbornly, “she’s safe.” As long as it was only him and his deputies who knew where she was, Raisa had little to worry about. Maddie Roux wouldn’t say anything. It was when she stepped outside of the center that Raisa was going to become a target for Franjo Petyr.

  “Where is she?” Gómez demanded. “We need her in protective custody yesterday.”

  “She’s safe right now. I’m reluctant to tell you where, only because we promised to keep her safe, and that’s something I take seriously. I run a clean station here. I’m sure you researched us—hell, probably when you wrote out your recommendation for Jorgensen.”

  Klay raised an eyebrow in silent acknowledgement, and Mat continued, “She’s still on Piedras, in the safest place we could think of, and will be safe there for the night, at least. There’s no ferry to leave on, and there’s a storm headed this way. No one is going anywhere.”

  Gómez leaned toward Mat, interrupting what her lead had been about to say. “I understand. We all understand; we want nothing more than to protect her. Sammy and I can help whoever is with her now. She’ll be doubly protected, and tomorrow we’ll escort her to a safe house where she’ll remain until the trial—because we are going to catch Franjo Petyr.”

  Mat glanced at Birdy. She was biting her lip and staring back at him. “Deputy Radden stays. He’s been with her the most, and she seems to trust him.”

  Gómez held Mat’s gaze for a moment before nodding her agreement.

  22

  Saturday—Niall

  That had gone about as well as Niall expected. Mat was pissed at him, and Niall deserved it, mostly. Even so, Niall still felt he was justified in his actions. He’d rather have Mat angry with him than dead.

  He was parked around the corner from Bonnie Cooper’s, where another street dead-ended at the bluff. He didn’t feel as conspicuous here, as there were a couple other cars parked as if their owners had gone for a quick walk before dark. The wind had come up since he’d gotten off the ferry. An early fall storm seemed to be on its way.

  Niall couldn’t see the ex–Mrs. Cooper’s house from where he was. But he had a feeling that something would be happening tonight. She’d reached the end of her rope, and if he waited until the morning, she would be gone. His visit probably hadn’t helped, but there was nothing he could do about that.

  Making sure the Subaru’s dome light was turned off, Niall quietly opened the door and eased himself out of his car. The wind tugged at his clothing as he shut the door. He walked out to the edge of the bluff, hands in his pockets, and scanned the familiar view.

  The wind buffeted him again. He looked to his right, the real reason why he was there. There were two houses between where he stood and Mrs. Cooper’s. The closer one had a fence between it and the bluff, easy enough for Niall to slip along behind without being seen by the residents. The second had no fence and, like Mrs. Cooper’s, had a large picture window so the homeowners could take in the view.

  There weren’t any lights on in the living room of the home, but there was light glowing from what was likely the kitchen, and Niall could see a shadow moving about doing something mundane like microwaving dinner or feeding the cat. Pulling the collar of his jacket up to protect his neck from the wind, Niall bent down and crawled the forty feet from one edge of the property to the other on his hands and knees. The cloudy half light threw weird shadows as the wind blew branches about, and at one point his foot slipped, sending a shower of leaves and rocks over the edge of the bluff. He froze, but with the wind and the waves below, he didn’t think anyone could’ve heard him.

  At the corner of the Cooper property there was a convenient cedar tree for Niall to take cover behind. Standing up, he brushed himself off as best he could, then peered at the back of the house from around the massive trunk.

  Adjacent to the living room was a sliding glass door, and outside was a patio set covered with a tarp to protect it from the coming winter weather. Or maybe Mrs. Cooper was just the type who did that all the time. No outdoor lights had turned on since he’d left, and the shades were still tightly closed, but Niall could see that her car was still parked in the carport.

  As he watched, however, a side door to the carport opened, and light spilled out onto the parking pad. Not a lot, but enough for Niall to watch Bonnie Cooper drag a suitcase out of the house and set it at the back of the car. She patted her pocket and darted back inside the house. Niall took the opportunity to slip out of the shadows and run across the lawn. He made it to the passenger side of her car, squatting below the window, before she came back out and unlocked the trunk with her key fob.

  She opened the back hatch and heaved the suitcase in—and maybe another one; Niall couldn’t tell from where he was crouched. The light in the house went out, the side door closed, and Bonnie came back to open the driver’s door.

  Taking the chance that when she’d unlocked the hatch all the doors had unlocked, Niall grabbed the passenger door handle and jerked the door open, launching himself inside.

  Bonnie shrieked and tried frantically to get her key into the ignition. When that didn’t work, she jerked sideways to get out of the car, almost falling to the pavement in her panic. Niall grabbed her by the long coat she’d slung over her sweater and pulled her back inside.

  “Shut your door,” he demanded.

  “Don’t hurt me! Please don’t hurt me!” she begged, the fear clear on her face.

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I was honest with you earlier. I am working with the Piedras County Sheriff’s Office. But I have the distinct feeling you were not honest with me.”

  “I…” She took a deep shuddering breath.

  “Pull yourself together,” Niall said harshly. “You’ve managed to stay al
ive this long. Falling apart now will surely get you dead.” While he spoke, he tried to think of what to do. When he’d told Mat she was going to run, he hadn’t thought it would be twenty minutes later.

  “Duane never told me anything. He said it was better this way. That the less I knew, the safer I was.”

  The interior of the car was dark, and Niall didn’t like not being able to see Bonnie’s face, but he sensed she was telling most of the truth. “Where were you going?”

  “I don’t know! I have a friend in Ashland. Maybe there. She said I could stay with her for a little while.”

  “And you think Duane’s killer won’t find you there? That he doesn’t already know everything about you? As long as you don’t run, he’s not sure what you know—or if you know anything. But the minute you set foot off this property, you’re dead too.”

  He was laying it on a bit thick, but he wanted her to accept what he was going to propose… and unless she truly believed the dark specter of death was on its way, he didn’t think she would. She wanted to run away from danger, not into it.

  “Here’s what we’re going to do.” He checked his watch. “Instead of heading south, you’re going to drive right up the road here and get in the ferry line. We’ll catch the seven o’clock. It sails straight to Piedras without stopping—but I bet you know that already. And while we’re on the ferry, you’re going to tell me everything you know.”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide with fear and face wet with tears. “I can’t go there. Duane said never to go there.”

  “Duane’s dead,” Niall reminded her.

  “Why should I go to the island? It’s never been anything but bad luck.”

  “There’s some people who would like to talk to you. Sheriff Dempsey is just one of them.”

  “Oh, god, I don’t know what to do,” she sobbed.

  “Do you know what Duane was involved in?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “He just sent me money to deposit.”

  “Nothing else?”

  Her hesitation told him everything.

  “Did he give you something, or maybe send you something, before he was killed? Or even earlier—before he went into hiding.”

  Her eyes widened and she bit her lip, tears still streaming down her face. If she thought crying would make Niall feel kindlier toward her, she was wrong.

  “It’s likely your husband was part of a smuggling ring that trafficked in human beings.”

  “What? No!” she protested. “Duane would never have done anything like that. He was a good man.”

  Niall raised his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t be so sure, if I were you. Human trafficking is a very serious charge, and the authorities wouldn’t be making it if they didn’t have a great deal of evidence.” They did have evidence, just not against Duane Cooper. “Did you and Duane have children?” he asked.

  “No, we couldn’t.”

  “Can you imagine, if you did have a child, that child being sold against her, or his, will into a life of slavery? You’d think it was impossible in this modern world, but in fact there are approximately forty million human beings enslaved today. And your husband was responsible for some of them.”

  The car was quiet for a few minutes while Niall let Bonnie digest what he’d said.

  “Duane sent me a package a few months ago.” She sniffled and wiped her cheeks.

  “What was in it?” Niall asked.

  “A book. I didn’t really look at it.”

  “Do you have it with you?”

  She hesitated, then nodded.

  Niall snatched the large handbag from the footwell. If he had something like, say, a record of some sort of illegal dealings, he’d want to keep it as close to him as possible at all times.

  “What are you doing?” Bonnie screeched, jerking forward and grabbing for the bag, almost knocking their heads together. Niall held the bag away and turned slightly so he could look inside. She pulled frantically at his jacket, trying to get to her purse. “Stop it. I’m calling the police.”

  “That’s complete horseshit. If you were going to call the police, you would’ve done it already.” He continued to rummage. Along one side, he felt something hard that was tucked into a zippered pocket. “Ah.” He unzipped the pocket and withdrew a small, battered black notebook. Dropping the bag back to the floor, he opened the book and flipped through it. Page after page was filled with cramped handwriting noting dates, times, and locations. “You know, it’s really hard for me to believe you had no idea what your husband was up to.”

  “He was my ex-husband,” she hissed.

  “Yeah, whatever,” he scoffed, “Personally, I’m starting to think you and Cooper were trying to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes.” Spotting Bonnie’s cell phone, he picked that up too.

  “I hate you. Who do you think you are, anyway?”

  Niall tucked the book and cell phone into the inside pocket of his jacket. If, in the process, he made sure Bonnie Cooper saw his weapon… well, so be it. He wouldn’t use it unless he had to, but he also wouldn’t hesitate. She let out a little gasp, and he knew it had worked. Hopefully she’d remain cooperative.

  “Start the car. Take a left out of the driveway, and drive slowly down the street. Do not speed or do anything to catch the eye of the police or anyone else who might be watching you. Take the road to the ferry terminal. We need to make this run. Don’t do anything foolish.”

  Bonnie did as Niall commanded. They drove through Anacortes and made it to the ferry terminal without incident, even though Niall almost gave himself a crick in his neck making sure no one was following them. He regretted leaving his Subaru behind, but there was no other choice. He didn’t trust Bonnie to get on the ferry without him in the car. He flat-out did not trust her.

  The line was long, and it was a toss-up whether they’d board the seven or the last sailing at nine. Niall kept his fingers crossed; the longer they were out in the open, the more worried he was that she’d try to flee. When he and Bonnie were on the ferry, he would feel a lot better.

  Once they were in the line and Bonnie turned off the engine, Niall pulled out his cell phone and sent a quick text to Mat.

  In line for seven o’clock run, not sure if we’ll make it. Bringing Bonnie Cooper, grabbed her when she tried to run.

  Moments later, Mat replied with, let me know which one. Still at the station.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” Bonnie said into the silence.

  Niall glanced over at the freestanding public restroom about fifty yards from where they were parked. Nope. No way. “You’re gonna have to hold it.”

  23

  Saturday—Mat

  “We took a house out near Brooch Resort, because we’re fairly certain Petyr has branched out recently,” Gómez was saying. “Land is a tad more respectable than human trafficking, and he likes nice things—feels he deserves them. He’s here on the island under a newer alias. We think he’s possibly using the last name of Lambert.”

  Why did that name sound familiar, Mat wondered. “That’s not a terribly common name. Do we have Lamberts on the island?” he asked Birdy, even though he didn’t think so.

  “That name sounds familiar to me, sir,” Birdy said.

  “Do a search and see if anyone named Lambert comes up, or maybe a Lambert has moved here recently?” he asked her. “It’s a long shot, but it’s all we’ve got. If we don’t find anything tonight, we can check with the real estate agency tomorrow. They have a ‘Welcome to Piedras’ mailing list.”

  Birdy pushed away from the table and left the room.

  “We did a search as well,” Ferreira added. “We didn’t find anyone living here with that name who fit our profile. But several of the properties near the house we rented are owned by the same LLC, and LLCs don’t have to reveal an individual’s name. Doesn’t mean we won’t find it; just means we need to work a little harder. And… just because a handful of parcels are owned by the same LLC doesn’t mean the owners are criminals, but thi
s particular LLC uses ‘vinók’ in its name, which is a Ukrainian word for a type of wreath or crown traditionally worn by young, unmarried women. Maybe I’m reading a lot into nothing, but it seems like something Petyr would do. It’s his kind of sick humor.”

  Mat thought about the real estate scheme his older brother had been involved in. Had Sean been involved in buying up other properties too? Possibly. Sean also liked nice things and had been in the process of trying to acquire them when he was murdered. It didn’t seem far-fetched that he might have known about this Lambert person, or even been affiliated with him. Human trafficking? Mat wanted to believe that, even at his worst, Sean would never have been involved with the smuggling and selling of human beings. Maybe he’d never really known his brother, though.

  “Sir?” Birdy poked her head back into the room. “It was a Sebastian Lambert who reported Chastity Reynolds’s body, back in February. That’s where I remember the name from.”

  Mat’s heart began to pound. “What else do we know about him?”

  “Not much, sir. He’d just moved here. I remember that he said he was at the marina because he was worried about wind damage from the night before and he’d been checking on his boat.”

  Right, Mat remembered. The man had said he’d taken early retirement and moved to Piedras. His sailboat had been moored at the marina where Chastity Reynolds’s body had been found. They’d never discovered where she’d been killed. Was it possible that Petyr had been involved in her death too?

  Mat was going to have to talk to Jeffrey Reynolds again. Had he known Petyr? Damn. He checked the time; it was too late to get into the courthouse tonight. He’d need to go through Reynolds’s lawyer, anyway. He pulled out his cell phone to find Amanda Tate’s phone number.

  She answered on the first ring. “Tate here.”

  “Ms. Tate, this is Sheriff Dempsey.”