Dead Heat

by Allison Brennan

  Naygrow was considered smart, trusted his field agents, and fair—but he expected every squad to run smoothly. He didn’t like surprises, and he particularly didn’t like bad press.

  His administrative assistant, Thomas Xavier, said, “Go right in, Agent Kincaid.”

  She did, hesitating only momentarily before knocking and turning the knob.

  SAC Naygrow sat at the head of his small conference table. He was an impeccably dressed man in his late forties with graying, conservatively cut hair and dark eyes. He looked more like a businessman than a cop. Next to him was ASAC Abigail Durant, whom Juan reported to. Juan, Brad, and SWAT team leader Leo Proctor were there, as well as two people Lucy didn’t know, a man and woman who both wore guest badges.

  “Agent Kincaid, please have a seat,” Naygrow said.

  Juan nodded to the seat across from him, between Brad and Leo. Lucy clasped her hands, forcing herself to remain calm and detached. The two strangers—both from DEA—introduced themselves. The woman was Samantha Archer, assistant director and in charge of the San Antonio DEA office.

  Naygrow said, “Juan filled us in on not only what happened last night, but your current case, Agent Kincaid. I called you in to let you know that no one gets away with going after one of my agents.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “This is an unusual situation, as you’ve been working on a joint task force with the DEA. SSA Donnelly has asked that you stay on the case, even though you’ve been singled out.”

  Lucy glanced at Brad, but he wasn’t looking at her.

  Naygrow continued. “I don’t like my agents being attacked, and I like less that they’ve been compromised. But as my colleague Assistant Director Archer reminded me, when the bad guys start going for us, it means we’re doing something right. And apparently, you’ve done a lot right this week.”

  He smiled. Lucy didn’t think it was anything to smile about; nor did she understand the direction of this conversation. But she nodded.

  “If the DEA didn’t want you on board,” Naygrow said, “I’d pull you. You’re a rookie, you’ve been a sworn agent for barely three months, and you have no training with this level of criminal. No drug background, no organized crime. I don’t want to see you injured, or worse. But there’s no time to bring in someone else and get them up to speed, and because we have a missing child, every minute counts.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m not going to order you to do this,” he said. “It’s your choice. You’ve been singled out by one of the cartels, and that is terrifying.”

  “With all due respect,” Lucy said—stunned she had the courage to speak at all—“I’m not terrified. I’m not going to back down just because someone comes after me. If I were scared of the criminals I pursue, I wouldn’t have become a federal agent.”

  Naygrow nodded. “I guess that’s your answer.”

  “Yes, sir, it is. I want to see this through.”

  “Very well, I’ll authorize it. You and—” He looked at his notes. “—Agent Quiroz will be assigned to SSA Donnelly for the duration of this operation.”

  “Thank you, Ritz,” AD Archer said. “I’ll personally keep your people in the loop.”

  “Report directly to Juan Casilla, please,” Naygrow said. “These are his people, and his concerns. Juan will personally run the investigation into the attack on Agent Kincaid. I expect equal cooperation with all information your office has related to like crimes.”

  “Yes, sir,” Archer said. “I’ve assigned an agent to focus on pulling relevant information, plus we have our tech working with Agent Proctor on the device found on Kincaid’s car.”

  Naygrow turned to Juan. “I know you need to brief your people. I think we’re done here.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Juan said formally and walked out.

  Lucy followed the line of people. Outside Naygrow’s office, AD Archer came up to her. “Lucy? I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Sam Archer.” She pulled Brad over to them. “Brad says you’ve been an asset, and I want to tell you how sorry I am about what happened at your house.”

  “I appreciate you letting me stay on the task force.”

  “We’re really close, and Sanchez knows it,” she said. “I think Brad’s right in that this is our best chance to find out who he’s working for.”

  The conversation Lucy had with Kane the night before came back to her, but she didn’t have a chance to comment before Ryan pulled her and Brad into the briefing room. Juan had already started, and she stood in the back with Brad.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “I appreciate you going to bat for me.”

  “Your boss isn’t happy. I’m sorry about that. If that changes your mind—”

  She shook her head. “I’ll fix it.” She hoped she could.

  The briefing went fast. After Juan, Brad gave the bullet points of the investigation to date, then assigned tasks.

  Nate called out, “I thought I was sticking to Lucy like glue.”

  “That’s now Ryan’s job. He’s been her partner in this op from the beginning. We don’t have time to fully brief you before they leave for McAllen.”

  Juan was about to dismiss the group when Lucy raised her hand. “I have some new information.”

  “The floor is yours.”

  Lucy went to the front of the room and with Zach’s help brought up the images of the tattoo on Richard Diaz’s forearm and the one Bella drew. “I’ve been researching this symbol, along with Zach and the DEA. Until last night, we had no leads. I went to a source that has experience with these sorts of things, and he indicated that the mark is the brand of Vasco Trejo, an American expatriate living in Mexico. He’s a relatively new player, has brought in or destroyed smaller groups to build his base. Sanchez appears to be his primary American contact. He brands his couriers with this mark. Apparently, this is common—using young boys as drug couriers, similar to how gangs use them as killers. But what we’re still working out is how. Both Michael Rodriguez and Richard Diaz appeared to have run away, but in all likelihood were coerced into working for Jaime Sanchez. The fathers, both incarcerated, have a connection to Sanchez, and it may be that Sanchez used that connection to lure the boys away.”

  There was silence. Lucy looked around and added, “This gives us a direct connection from Sanchez to one of the smaller cartels.”

  Again, silence. Juan rose and said, “Dismissed.”

  Brad immediately approached her as everyone else filed from the room. His eyes were dark with anger. “Where did you get that information?”

  Before she could say anything, he said, “It was Rogan, wasn’t it? Your boyfriend’s brother. Shit!”

  “It’s good intel.”

  “I didn’t say it wasn’t, but you should never talk about my case without telling me first. I need to make some calls.” He looked at his watch. “We’re taking a military transport to McAllen. Archer arranged it, we leave in ninety minutes. Be at my office in forty-five minutes.”

  Lucy followed Juan to his office. “Sir?”

  “Shut the door.”

  She did. “I apologize if I stepped on your toes. I didn’t know what was going on in the meeting, but it seemed you don’t want me with the task force anymore. I can assure you, I’m not reckless. I understand the risks and I’m willing to take them. There are two children in jeopardy, sir. And I think—”

  He put up his hand, then sat heavily at his desk. “Lucy, please sit.”

  She did, though her back was rigid.

  “You misunderstand. It’s true, I had second thoughts about your involvement with Donnelly’s operation. Not because I think you’re incapable; on the contrary, you’ve exceeded my expectations in the three months you’ve been assigned to my team. But you’re part of my team, and this situation has gotten out of my control. Donnelly wasn’t straight with me, and I wanted to pull you and Ryan because of that, not because I didn’t believe you’d be a valuable addition.

  “Donnelly has been after
Sanchez for years. I didn’t realize Operation Heatwave was targeting some of Donnelly’s biggest cases. The fugitives on Donnelly’s list were from drug cases, not just rounding up gangbangers who slipped through the cracks. While we work closely with the DEA, the FBI does not routinely involve itself in drug crimes. There’s a completely different set of skills, risks, and training. You’re not there. I didn’t like that Donnelly had kept important information to himself; I didn’t like that you have become a target for whatever cartel Sanchez is working for.”

  “Sir, if I may.” Lucy cleared her throat. “I should have told you earlier that I guessed that Donnelly had another agenda. It was clear after working with him Saturday that he was a bit … obsessed, for lack of a better word … about Sanchez. But rightfully so. And knowing what we now know about his connection to this new group is going to help the DEA shut down Sanchez, find his source, and help us find Bella and Michael.”

  Juan nodded. “You were vague about where you came by that information in the briefing. Did it come from RCK?”

  “Yes, sir.” Technically, it was Kane, but since Kane was still part of RCK there was no reason to go into specifics.

  Juan rubbed his eyes. “It’s a slippery slope, Lucy.” It looked like he wanted to say more, then didn’t. “Until this is over, don’t go anywhere alone. You and Ryan are partners; stick together. Even if it’s a routine interview, you need backup. I would tell any of my agents the same thing if they had just been threatened as you were. Understood?”

  “Yes, sir. Thank you.”

  “Be careful, Lucy. For agents, the FBI is safer than most law enforcement organizations. Working for the DEA is probably the most dangerous.”

  * * *

  Lucy and Ryan arrived at the DEA office ten minutes early, and Assistant Director Archer greeted them. “Brad will be back in a minute. I’m glad to have you both on board.”

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Ryan said.

  “Let’s find some place to talk,” she said. She ushered them into a small conference room and closed the door. She didn’t sit, nor did she invite them to. “Where’d you get the information about Vasco Trejo?” Archer asked.

  “Kane Rogan. He’s a principal at Rogan-Caruso-Kincaid and—“

  Archer said, “I know who they are. Donnelly didn’t tell me you were that Kincaid.”

  “It’s not important.”

  “Damn straight it’s important. We run up against RCK all the time and sometimes it’s not friendly. They don’t play by the same rules we’re forced to.”

  Lucy bristled at the tone, but kept her face impassive. “I know what they do.”

  “I assume Jack’s your brother.”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Small fucking world. My first assignment was down in McAllen. I was as green as they came, but had the fire in the belly. One day my partner said, ‘We got a delivery.’ I had no idea what that meant. He took me outside and in the parking lot was the right-hand man of one of the cartel leaders. Trussed up like a pig. My partner grinned ear-to-ear and said, ‘Major Kincaid comes through again.’” She laughed. “That was years ago. I knew he’d moved back to California, got himself married or something. Never thought he’d be one to settle down. And you’re his sister.”

  “Yes.” It was clear that at some point, before Jack left Texas five years ago, he and Samantha had some sort of relationship.

  “The intel was good. Very good. Vasco Trejo has been on my radar for months, but until now I had nothing on him and put him at the bottom of the shit pile. Not many people here know much about him. He’s wanted for murder—and we knew he’d fled to Mexico. As far as we know, he hasn’t crossed to our side of the border in seven years, so he hasn’t been on our active list. He was a low-life gangbanger who offed a rival gang member, then fled with money and drugs. Not a peep until one of our contacts said he’d been seen in Monterrey, about two hours south of the border. So I put him back on the list, just to keep him in my face. We haven’t heard a word until you mentioned him this morning. Brad’s all over it. But this changes the game somewhat. I’m going to join you in McAllen, because if we have a chance to nab him, we will, and I can deal directly with border issues.”

  Brad walked in. “We need to make a stop. Mirabelle’s lawyer just called me. She’s out, reunited with her daughter, and she wants to talk to Lucy.”

  “Do we have time?” Archer asked.

  “I’ll take Lucy to meet with her—she’s still at the courthouse. She refuses to leave, wants protection. The AUSA is working on something temporary, but they want something from her.”

  Ryan said, “I’m going, too. Sorry, Luce, but Casilla made me swear to watch your back. No offense, Donnelly.”

  “None taken.”

  Archer nodded. “I can hold the transport a few minutes, but don’t make me wait too long.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Mirabella Borez was sitting with her daughter CeCe in a small conference room adjacent to an office used by the Justice Department on the third floor of the courthouse. They held hands, their damp, streaky faces evidence of tears.

  The AUSA left them alone with Mirabelle, who glared at Donnelly. “I’m not talking to you. I don’t have to, my lawyer said I don’t.”

  “That’s right,” Lucy said. “You don’t have to talk to us at all, but you requested this meeting because you want police protection. To get it, you have to convince us that your life is in danger.”

  CeCe squeezed her mother’s hand tighter. Her bravado from Saturday was gone; she was a scared eleven-year-old, confused, perhaps feeling manipulated by her uncle. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and hung limp down her back. Her clothes were clean, but her eyes were swollen from crying. She stared at Lucy as if she hated her, but then looked away and all Lucy saw was the scared little girl inside.

  Mirabelle nodded. Lucy gestured for Ryan and Brad to take seats at the other end of the table, not to crowd Mirabelle. She wanted her to feel comfortable enough to talk freely.

  “Mirabelle, I think I know why you wanted to talk to me. It was about our meeting yesterday.”

  Mirabelle nodded, and fresh tears streamed down her face. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, Ms. Kincaid. But I love my girls. I really do.”

  “I know you do.”

  “You said something about Bella’s father—I told CeCe the truth, and she told me what happened when Jaime took my Isabella. That he deliberately left her. I know why, and I’m scared.”

  Lucy took a risk, because there was a chance that she was wrong, but she’d been mulling over Bella’s parentage all night. And when Sam Archer said that Trejo had left San Antonio about seven years ago, it clicked.

  She said, “Vasco Trejo is Bella’s father, isn’t he?”

  Mirabelle nodded. “I don’t know why Jaime is doing this, I don’t know why he would betray me—his own sister—but taking Bella, he’s going to give her to Vasco. I’ll never see her again.”

  “Are you certain?”

  This time CeCe spoke. “Uncle Jaime told me once when he was mad at my mama that we could all live in a palace in Mexico if only Mama would agree.”

  “My husband’s name is on Bella’s birth certificate, and I think of her as Pablo’s daughter. Vasco is cruel. He likes to own people.

  “Tell me what happened, Mirabelle.”

  “I can’t.” She gave a sidelong glance at her daughter, and Lucy understood there were some things she would never say in front of her children. “But he left, and he didn’t know I was pregnant.”

  “He must have figured it out.”

  Mirabelle said, “Jaime knew. George always believed me, but Jaime knew the truth. I … um … I didn’t want what happened. He…” She glanced at CeCe again.

  Lucy said to Ryan, “Can you take CeCe to get a soda or something?”

  Ryan took the girl out and then Lucy asked, “Did Vasco Trejo rape you?”

  She nodded and closed her eyes. She wiped her nose with th
e back of her hand. “The first time. And then he said I was his, and after that I just went along so he wouldn’t hurt me.”

  Lucy dug into her purse and came out with a small package of tissues. She slid it across the table to Mirabelle, who clutched it in both hands.

  “It’s not your fault, Mirabelle,” Lucy said. She’d had enough experience working with rape victims to know what Mirabelle was feeling. The confusion, the conflict, the guilt, the anger, the sorrow. “And it’s not Bella’s fault.”

  “But I never said no, not after that first time.”

  “The first time counts. Okay? I’ll hook you up with a great crisis counselor I know, but just believe me, okay? If you want to believe in your heart that Bella is Pablo’s daughter, believe it. Vasco has no claims to her.”

  “He wants to possess her, to own her, to punish me for not going with him. But I couldn’t—no matter how much money he had, I couldn’t go with the man who killed my husband.”

  Lucy remembered reading that Pablo Borez had died in a prison fight.

  “You know that?”

  “Jaime was upset and told me. He said he had to work for Vasco now, because of what I had done. It was my fault—I met Vasco in the bar where I worked. He was smart and charming and cute and I thought he had the answer for everything. But I didn’t do anything!”

  “Tell me about the boys in the basement,” Lucy asked, shifting the direction of the conversation.

  “Jaime brought them. I told him not to, but he did. They never stayed long, just a few days, until the last one. He took something that belonged to the general…” Mirabelle stopped. She stared at Lucy. “Don’t tell me—”

  Lucy nodded. “Vasco Trejo is the general.”