“Car is in the garage. No sign of this Ivana. I have officers at St. Mary’s in case maybe a neighbor took your mother to the emergency room. Nothing yet. Officers are knocking on doors.”
Brinna felt her knees weaken, and she moved to the archway between the kitchen and living room to lean for support. She knew Klein and Donovan were watching her.
“Debbie said that my mom called about a prowler.”
“Yes,” Donovan spoke up. “We caught the call. She didn’t use 911; she called the seven-digit line. The computer shows it took us sixteen minutes to get here. We could have gotten here quicker, but dispatch didn’t make the call a priority because your mom didn’t act like it was an emergency.” His contrite posture told her he regretted not hurrying over. But Brinna couldn’t fault him. Cops couldn’t be clairvoyant, and if her mother didn’t say it was urgent, there was no way Donovan could know.
She closed her eyes and tried to think without having fear crowd in at every turn. But concentration eluded her. There was also Brian to consider. Brinna had no idea how to get ahold of him in South America and tell him what was going on. He should be told, but she decided that notifying him would have to wait. There was too much else to worry about at the moment.
Folding her arms tight around her midsection, she wished this were a nightmare that she’d wake up from soon. She might as well have been on a rough sea the way her insides pitched and her temples pounded. She took another deep breath.
I have to think clearly, she told herself, have to be a cop now. That’s the only way to help my mother. No garden-variety prowler abducts two people from a house this cleanly.
“Call O’Reilly,” she said finally.
“Jack O’Reilly?” Klein asked.
Brinna nodded and swallowed. “This case, the homicide Jack is working on, and the situation with Ivana, the girl—there are possible organized crime ties. Jack and Ben have been working that angle.” And I want Jack here. I need his strength.
“The girl you pulled out of the river is tied to a homicide?” Klein frowned.
“Yeah, she’s a victim of human trafficking, possibly brought to this country by organized crime. Since my mom doesn’t have any enemies that I know of, that’s the only angle I can think to work.”
“Sounds like a sensible theory.” Klein pulled out his handheld radio and asked dispatch to call O’Reilly. He also asked for a priority lab.
Brinna surveyed her mother’s kitchen again, the realization hitting like a baton blow. This was now a crime scene.
42
JACK SAT AT HIS KITCHEN TABLE, Bible open in front of him, cup of tea steaming on his right. He hadn’t had trouble sleeping in a while. Months ago he’d struggled with insomnia and had trouble closing his eyes because all he’d see were visions of his dead wife, Vicki. But lately he’d been sleeping well. There’d been no ghosts invading his dreams, no nightmares about Vicki’s accident.
Tonight his sleeplessness had nothing to do with Vicki. Instead, his thoughts were on Brinna. She touched his heart like he’d never thought it could be touched since Vicki. It made him giddy. He was certain the goofy grin on his face would never fade.
And Brinna was coming around to a solid faith in God, and that made him happy. Gone was the antagonism toward prayer and the faith he and her mother shared. They’d made plans to go to church together on Sunday, and he found he could hardly wait. She still had a lot of questions, but they’d be able to work through them as a couple.
She hated the fact that innocents suffered and that God allowed bad things in a person’s life. He studied Scripture and prayed for answers, for insight, for a way to help a woman he truly cared about understand that a good God existed and that he loved her and her kids even more than she did.
Taking a sip of tea, he settled back in his chair. The Lord causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust, Jack thought, not remembering the exact verse. He could quote many other verses that told the Christian to expect adversity, trials, and all sorts of trouble in this life. Life in this world would never be perfect.
Brinna wanted perfection—perfect justice and a perfect world. She wanted to be able to save all the innocents in the world. Jack could understand the desire she had to protect the innocent. That same desire had drawn him to police work many years ago. But he’d been grounded in the belief that God was real and directing his steps, guiding his life.
He rubbed his face with both hands and prayed that the answers he shared with her would reach her and help her on her faith journey.
The ring of the telephone interrupted him.
Debbie in communications was on the line, and she quickly and concisely explained the situation with Brinna’s mother. Jack groaned.
“It’s always tougher when it’s one of our own. This is horrible for Brinna, isn’t it?” Debbie said.
“I’m sure it is. Tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jack dressed quickly, praying for Rose, Ivana, and Brinna and wondering where this crisis would push Brinna and her views about God.
43
WHEN THE VAN CAME TO A STOP, Ivana and Mrs. Caruso were jerked out of the back and half carried, half dragged into a building. Ivana struggled to clear her mind as confusion and disorientation twisted her thoughts. Though the hood was still in place and she could see nothing but black, she could tell they weren’t at the house she’d run from. The cold night air, the smell of salt water in her nostrils, and the sounds of waves told her they were close to the ocean.
The odors and sounds dredged up the memory of when she and her sister had first stepped onto America’s shores. They’d been dumped in a dingy warehouse, and immediately Demitri told them the truth of why he’d brought them to America. Ivana had just recounted the horrors of that day for Detective O’Reilly, and these noises and smells brought the memory of that bleak day back anew.
She heard Rose Caruso protesting, threatening that her daughter was a police officer. Simon told her to shut up or be slapped again.
The screech of metal scraping metal as a heavy door was opened caused Ivana to flinch. Then Simon yanked her hood off, and Ivana blinked as her eyes adjusted to the presence of light. Mrs. Caruso stood next to her, looking just as disoriented but not frightened, and that surprised Ivana. Ivana herself was terrified. She recognized this place. It was the warehouse, the horrible place where they’d found out what Demitri wanted of them. Here was where Villie had received a horrible beating.
All of their captors had their hoods off, and they spoke in low tones in Bulgarian. Ivana had seen all of them before, but it was only Simon whose name she knew.
“Simon, please, let this woman go. She is no threat to you. Don’t punish her because of me,” Ivana pleaded, also speaking in her native tongue. She ignored Mrs. Caruso’s questioning gaze.
Simon grabbed her elbow and pulled her toward the small room in which she and Villie had stayed with the other girls before they’d been taken to the house. “You should have thought about that before you ran away.” Simon was furious. “I will not face Demitri’s wrath because of you.”
He shoved Ivana into the room, and one of the others thrust Rose Caruso in after her.
“You men, I warn you—you are making a huge mistake,” Mrs. Caruso protested. “What exactly do you plan to do with us?”
“You will stay here for a few days,” Simon answered in English. “My employer will answer your questions when he returns.” He glared at Ivana when he said employer, and she knew he meant Demitri.
Simon tossed a bag into the room. “Some food and water for you.” He stood in the doorway and lit a cigarette. After the first puff he pointed at Ivana. “There is no way out of here. You can scream all you want; no one will hear. You will be here until Demitri returns, so sit quietly and behave.”
With that, he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.
44
NEEDING TO DO SOMETHING to feel useful in some way, Brinna got Hero out of the truck. She asked him to find her
mother. The dog caught the scent leaving the kitchen but the trail ended in the driveway, where he circled a bit, then finally stopped and looked at her as if to say, “I got nothing.” He whimpered a bit as he sat at her feet, and Brinna fought back tears of frustration. Her mother and Ivana had most likely been put into a car and driven away.
After the brief search, all she could do was pace and wait for Jack. While she waited, she phoned Chuck, expecting his voice mail. Instead he answered, and at the sound of his voice, the tale of her latest nightmare tumbled out in a torrent.
“Whoa, Brinna, slow down. What do you mean your mom is gone? How is that possible?”
“I wish I knew.” She took a deep breath and held her fractured wrist up, hoping the throbbing would ease. “Her house is empty. No sign of her or Ivana.”
“I can’t believe this. The surveillance car would have been in place at 6 a.m., in just a few hours. I don’t know what to say.” He paused a moment. “What’s happening on your end?”
Brinna explained that Jack was on the way, and right now LBPD lab personnel were processing the scene.
“Look, I’ll get over there as soon as I can. Hang in there. We’ll find them both.”
Brinna closed her phone and watched the street for Jack’s arrival. As he parked his car and walked up, she struggled to keep her emotions in check, convinced that every cop on scene regarded her with pity. She looked to Jack for strength and wisdom, knowing from past experience she could count on his insight. If he regarded her with the same pity as everyone else, the ragged walls of control she’d been struggling to erect would implode and crumble like pixie dust.
Jack nodded her way, but in his eyes Brinna saw what she had hoped to see: cop resolve. He first conferred with Klein, and Brinna listened in as all the information she already knew was repeated. The only new bit came from one of the officers who’d been knocking on every door in the neighborhood. Someone had seen a white panel van in her mother’s driveway. The woman, an elderly neighbor, had thought the sight unusual, but by the time she’d finished in the bathroom and looked back out the window, the van was gone. This only confirmed to Brinna what Hero had told her—her mother was long gone.
Up to date on all that was known at the time, Jack regarded Brinna with an indefinable expression. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I can’t understand how this could happen. I know great pains were taken to keep your mother’s address out of the public domain. I’m not certain how anyone could have gotten it this fast . . . or organized this type of assault.”
Brinna willed her voice to stay steady. “For all we know, we were followed home from the hospital. I felt uneasy, but I didn’t see anything and thought I was just being paranoid. Maybe I led them right to Ivana and my mom.”
“Hey.” Jack reached out and gripped her shoulder. “No time for any blame game. We had no information indicating something like this was a possibility. The course of action now is to concentrate on finding them.” He held her gaze, and she had to look away as her eyes started to fill.
Just then a light sprinkle began to fall, and Brinna felt as though it was the last straw. “I want to find them. But Hero has already been in the driveway searching. The trail ends here.” She stomped on the spotted driveway. “We have no trail to follow.” Her jaw tightened and her good hand formed a frustrated fist.
Jack stepped close. “Listen, before I came out here, I called Ben and filled him in. He had an idea that might help. We know Ivana ran from a house somewhere in Hawaiian Gardens, right?” When Brinna nodded, he continued. “Well, Ben thought about driving up to the sheriff’s office in Lakewood; they handle Hawaiian Gardens. He’s going to review all their nuisance complaints. If Ivana was held in a house with other girls for the purpose of prostitution, it’s possible a neighbor noticed a pattern of excessive traffic and made a complaint about the house.”
Brinna considered that line of thinking. It happened at drug houses all the time. Neighbors would get angry because a constant stream of customers to the drug house would increase traffic and noise in the neighborhood and monopolize available parking spots. Complaints often gave officers a heads-up about the problem and many times led to probable cause for a search warrant.
“That could work,” she conceded. “Given the location Ivana went into the river, we have a reasonable amount of ground to cover.” Though for Brinna, she knew she would knock on every door in Hawaiian Gardens if it would help find her mother.
“Exactly. Maybe officers went out and checked a complaint but didn’t have enough for a warrant. In any event, it will be worth the time and effort to recheck any house we can.”
For the first time since she’d realized her mother was gone, Brinna felt a spark of hope. If Ivana’s captors had taken her mother, the odds were good that they took her to the house Ivana escaped from. If they could find that house, and find it fast, her mother’s chances were better.
“Maybe I can go and help Ben out—” Brinna stopped and followed Jack’s gaze. She groaned and covered her mouth with her hand. A news van had just pulled up. Her mother’s plight would be all over the morning news shows. This would be a great development if it helped find her mother. But it would be horrible if the heat made her mother’s captors decide that Rose Caruso was a liability.
45
CHUCK PARKED BEHIND the news van as Jack and Brinna were just about to leave for Lakewood. He had with him a federal forensic team. Without a word, he gave Brinna a hug.
“Telling you we dropped the ball on this probably doesn’t help,” he said after a moment.
“Hey, blame right now isn’t going to help anything.” Brinna nodded toward Jack. “He just told me that.”
“I guess he’s right. We need to concentrate on the bad guys.” Chuck shook Jack’s hand, and Jack told him where he and Brinna were going.
“Good idea. Keep me apprised.”
As they left, Chuck and the forensic team disappeared into Rose’s house. Brinna wondered what her mom would have to say about all the traffic in her house. She hoped she’d have the chance to complain about it.
Brinna dropped Hero and her car off at her house in order to drive with Jack. The trip to Lakewood took fifteen minutes, and the pair rode in silence. Brinna was as grateful for his company as she was for the quiet. In all her searches for missing kids, there was usually an emotional component because she’d been through the same thing. Kidnapped at six and rescued two days later, she knew what they were going through, yet she was able to maintain a professional detachment and do her job.
But now that it was her mother, all bets were off. Every wall she built seemed to be like rice paper, delicate and easily destroyed. Even a Kevlar heart, the shield she would erect around her emotions, eluded her.
Child molesters, perverts—when they snatched a kid, it was often without a thought or a plan. They invariably made mistakes that tripped them up. If an organized crime syndicate had snatched her mother, what if they didn’t make any mistakes?
Brinna worked hard to concentrate on the task in front of her, not on all the what-ifs her overactive imagination could conjure up.
They found Ben in a conference room at the sheriff’s department. His expression told Brinna he had good news.
“What have you got, partner?” Jack asked.
“I’ve been able to narrow our search down to four homes.” He handed each of them a report form. “These four are in the same general neighborhood. The complaints are about excessive vehicular and foot traffic to the homes, and none are far from the flood control channel.”
Brinna glanced over the report she’d been given. The deputy who cleared the call noted that while he’d been on scene, he’d not observed any excessive traffic but recommended the address be forwarded to narcotics for further investigation. She figured it was ditto for the other houses. Four addresses would be relatively easy to check out, and Brinna was ready to get going.
“Great, Ben. How do you want to work this?” she asked.
“We’ll have to coordinate with the deputies. All of the houses are in their jurisdiction. How about we just start with the closest and work our way through the list?”
“Are the deputies on board?”
“I’ll set things up with the watch commander,” Ben said. “Do you want to notify Chuck?”
“He’s at Rose Caruso’s now. I’ll call and give him an update,” Jack said. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed. As he finished the call and closed his phone, Jack turned to Brinna. “How about you and I wait for Ben outside?”
“Sounds good.”
Once outside, Brinna fairly vibrated with the urge to get going and knock on doors. She anxiously tapped on the hood of the car, imagining it was the sound of every wasted second ticking away.
“I sure hope the sheriff doesn’t tie us up with a lot of red tape,” she told Jack.
“They’ll want a car to stand by while we do our knock-and-talks. We’d do the same if deputies were in our city.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “How are you holding up?”
Brinna shook her head and sighed. “I feel like I’m ready to jump out of my skin. I truly wish I’d let Ivana stay with me. Then my mom wouldn’t be in this predicament.”
“Yeah, we might be looking for you.” Jack smiled while Brinna glared at him. He tilted his head, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “We can’t go back and do it over—you know that.”
“You’re right, but I can’t help feeling responsible. And everything I’ve read about foreign gangsters—if that is who we’re dealing with—is that they are ruthless.” She stopped and took a deep, painful breath. “I couldn’t handle it if something happened to my mother just because she was doing something to help us.” Her fingernails dug into her palms, and she barely held the tears back.
Visible Threat Page 16