Sorry Altruist, I just got a call and I have to go help a friend. Talk to you later. I close the laptop, grab my keys and purse, and head out the door.
Chapter Twelve
Zack
I’ve been worried about Syrah. She won’t answer me back. I pace, afraid I’ll never find her, never know if she’s okay or not.
Tyler found one Luca Damonte who owns a nightclub and several other businesses. He’s out doing surveillance while I’m sitting by the computer. Waiting for a ghost.
My computer beeps, alerting me of a new message.
Sorry, I’ve been sick, and then working.
The relief is instant. I sit down in front of my laptop. That’s okay. I’ve just been worried about you. Everything okay?
More than okay.
I hear the front door squeak open, and then Tyler walks in with a grin on his face, closing the door behind him.
“Did you find something?”
“Maybe. I have pictures of one Luca Damonte and one blonde-haired girl.”
I’m anxious to get a look at her, even if there’s no way of knowing if it’s Syrah.
Sorry Altruist, I just got a call and I have to go help a friend. Talk to you later.
Shit! Just like that, I lose her. Tyler hands me the SD card from the high- powered camera. I slide it in and click through the photos. She’s young, late teens, early twenties. It bothers me the way the two of them are staring at each other.
Tyler’s over my shoulder, looking at the photos. “Send them over to Delansky, have him run them through facial recognition.”
A few clicks of the keyboard, then I turn around and fold my arms across my chest. “Done.”
“Get some sleep, kid. Tomorrow’s another day.”
I watch as Tyler ambles to his room, leaving me alone in the living room. I’m restless for some reason. I grab a glass from the kitchen cabinet, fill it full of ice, then top it off with bourbon.
I head back to the couch, stretch my legs on the coffee table, and sip my drink. Her picture races through my head, along with the worry of what she’s running from. Who’s looking for her?
~~~
When I finally crawl out of bed the next morning, Tyler’s already up, frying bacon.
“Good morning,” I mumble as I head for the coffee pot.
Tyler grins over his shoulder. “Look who finally decided to climb out of bed.”
“Fuck you.”
He laughs and then turns back to his skillet full of bacon. There’s a half-empty bottle of bourbon sitting on the counter, which explains my pounding head. Beer is normally my beverage of choice.
I slide into a chair at the table just before Tyler sets a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. “Eat. It’ll make you feel better.”
I grab a piece of bacon and stuff it in my mouth, take a sip of coffee, and then ask, “Did you hear back from Delansky?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d go stake out her apartment today, find out who she is.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go with you.” I rub my forehead, deciding some ibuprofen might be in order.
~~~~
Sitting in the car just down the street from her apartment building, I sip a cup of coffee. There’s been no activity. None. “Are you sure this is where she lives?” I ask Tyler, irritated that we’ve been here for hours.
“Yes. This is where he brought her last night. I watched her walk inside.”
Another hour later, and I’m restless. I need to get inside that apartment, make sure everything is alright.
It’s late morning, the sky is clear, there are horns honking, people walking around, and at times, they obscure my view of her steps. Grabbing the handle, I wrench open the door and step outside.
“Where are you going?” Tyler asks as he gets out with me.
“I need to get a look inside that apartment.”
He grabs my arm. “We don’t have a warrant.”
I hesitate, staring at the front door. Then I look back at Tyler and jerk my arm away. “You’re right. You stay here.”
I head briskly up the street, but Tyler follows after me. “We’re partners, kid, no way I’m letting you go alone.”
I knock and then wait. I have no idea what’ll I say if she answers the door. How can I admit that I hunted her down on a hunch? That doesn’t sound stalkerish at all.
When no one answers, I clutch the doorknob and try to turn it, but it’s locked. No problem, I think as I look at the old lock; it will be easy to scrub.
When the door swings open, I call out, “Hello? Anyone home?”
Nothing. Just as I expected.
At first glance inside, I can see how tiny the apartment is. A worn couch, and a 32-inch TV that hangs on the wall is all the living area can hold. I imagine Syrah sitting on that couch at night messaging me.
On the kitchen counter sits a laptop, a half-full glass of wine next to it. My fingers skim the laptop cover before slowly opening it up while Tyler searches the other rooms.
I will know for sure if this is her. When the screen turns on, a smile spreads across my face.
Sorry Altruist, I just got a call and I have to go help a friend. Talk to you later.
My fingers skim the keyboard as I remember all of our conversations. I’m a little nostalgic until Tyler yells, “Zack, you need to see this.”
I snap the laptop shut and head down the hallway. Tyler’s standing in a corner holding a thick picture frame.
“What is it?”
He has a surprised look on his face as he holds out a picture for me to look at. Taking it from his hands, I notice the girl first. She looks to be around twelve, maybe thirteen. Long blonde hair is over her shoulder, and she looks so happy, a wide smile on her face.
When I look at the woman standing next to her, my head tilts, my eyes narrow then widen as I stare at the familiar face. My voice comes out strange. “Is that who I think it is?”
“Sure as hell looks like it.”
My eyes lock with Tyler’s. “It’s Caroline Stone.”
Keeping the picture tightly gripped in my hand, I glance around the apartment with a new perspective. Who is Syrah?
There’s nothing telling in the bedroom, so I head back to the kitchen-living room area and start searching through drawers.
Knifes . . .
Utensils . . .
Bill drawer . . . that’s exactly what I’m looking for. I snag the opened envelope and turn it over as I search. My eyes land on a name, Ariel Hancock.
Tyler walks up behind me. “What’s that?” he asks as he peers over my shoulder.
“Her name.” I turn the envelope over and look inside. It’s a bank statement, with a checking account that shows a balance of $1248.87. “Call Delansky, tell him I’m sending him a picture of a young girl. Cross reference the missing Nolan girl with this one and the ones we sent last night.” Tyler pulls out his phone and punches speed dial. “Ask him for all the information on Ariel Hancock. Here’s the address.” I hand over the envelope, snap a picture of the picture, and send it via email to Delansky.
When I finish, Tyler’s already talking on the phone. “This is Tyler, I need a favor.” He rattles off the information as I glance around the room once again, tuning Tyler out.
So this is where you’ve been hiding while everyone has been searching for you.
When he clicks off, he says, “Delansky’s 99 percent sure this is Caroline’s daughter.” With a smile, he clasps my shoulder. “I have Ariel’s place of employment.” We head out and I lock the door behind me. Tyler’s shaking his head in disbelief. “Some hunch, kid. Caroline Stone’s missing daughter.”
Holy shit, this is huge. I drag my hand down my face and rub my jaw. We’ve been trying to find this girl for years, ever since her mother agreed to help us bust the smuggling ring wide open and put Frank behind bars. My mind races with memories of my first case as an agent.
Caroline, Frank Stone’s wife, had finally agreed to work with us. She wanted a better life f
or her and her daughter, and we promised to get them away from Frank, place them both in the witness protection program.
Equipped with a smart chip embedded in a thumb drive, all Caroline needed to do was turn on the computer, insert the thumb drive, and wait. The programmed chip would do the rest.
I don’t know how Frank found out, but he came home early, raging mad. Caroline quickly hid the thumb drive before he burst through the door, red-faced with anger. The way she told it, they had a heated argument where he threatened her daughter if anyone came after him, and after a rough, thorough body search, he threw her out without anything. No money, no clothes, and no daughter. He changed the locks. We had a social worker pay him a visit, but Frank assured them he lived alone. He even let them look around. We waited, but there were no signs of the girl, and we suspected he had sent her somewhere else to live.
Caroline refused to help us until her daughter was safe. It took time, but when we finally had enough evidence for a search warrant, it was as we suspected; the daughter was gone. No paper trail, nothing. She’d just disappeared one night, or so Frank had insisted. Caroline still worried that Frank had done something terrible to her daughter. Her imagination was limitless. It started with the daughter being buried in the backyard and morphed into her being sold into the sex industry. Riddled with grief, one day Caroline disappeared.
“What do we do now?”
Tyler settles back in his seat. “Let’s see if she’s at work.”
I know she won’t be, she works the late shift. But it’s worth a look. Maybe someone called in sick.
Luca
It’s late morning, eleven a.m., and I’m heading over to meet Marco, and then I’ll go to my parent’s house. Maybe. Depending on what Marco has found.
He wasn’t very happy a few hours ago. My lips twitch just thinking about it.
I’d just dropped Ariel off at her apartment when I pulled out my phone and punched in his number.
“This better be good.”
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No. I’m busy. What the hell do you need, Luca?” In the background, I hear a female voice asking him to come back to bed.
“I need to drop something off. Can I come by?”
“What is it?”
“It’s an encoded drive.”
A few seconds pass and he finally says, “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Marco is standing outside with his arms folded, looking around suspiciously. When he spots the car, he briskly heads over.
“Tony, stop here.”
The door opens, and before I can get out, Marco slides inside. The look on his face is grave. “Tell him to drive.”
I nod at Tony through the rearview mirror. “I thought I was meeting you inside. What’s wrong?”
Marco leans over and presses the button so the divider goes up, giving us complete privacy.
“What the hell are you into, Luca?” He hands me the drive back.
“Nothing. What’s on this thing?”
“An entire drug ring operation. Dates, locations, bank account numbers, off shore accounts. Names . . .” He shakes his head. “Shit, Luca.” He threads a nervous hand through his hair. “That shit will get someone killed.”
“You decoded it . . .”
“I did, and if you’re in trouble, I’ll help you anyway I can.”
“I’m not,” I assure him. There’s no way I’m dragging him into this, not unless I have to.
“If you’re sure . . .” He swallows hard.
“I am.” I stare down at the thumb drive in my hand. “Thank you for your help.”
“Anytime.”
When I drop Marco off, I pull out my phone and call Ariel.
No answer, and after seeing how nervous Marco was, I have an urgent need to see her, make sure she’s okay.
“Tony, head over to Ariel’s.”
“Yes, boss.”
On the ride over, I grab my laptop and slide in the drive. As I scroll through the information, I see that Marco’s correct.
There’s the family, named Diaz, that runs the entire operation. A Davie Diaz runs the Mexican side while a Frank Stone handles the US operation. There’s smuggling routes, distribution sites, money laundering via stock markets and shell enterprises. Reading this slack-jawed, I wonder how Ariel and her stepfather fit into all of this.
When we pull up in front of Ariel’s apartment, I slide the laptop under the seat and step outside.
“Do you want me to wait here, boss?”
Looking at Tony, and after what I just read, I shake my head no. Right now, I’d much rather have Tony with us.
I ring the bell.
No answer.
I try knocking.
“Let me, boss.” Tony pulls some tools and wires from his wallet, efficiently scrubbing the lock. When I narrow my gaze on him, he shrugs nonchalantly. “It comes in handy sometimes.”
Right now, I’m grateful as the door swings open and I step inside the apartment. It’s too quiet. “Ariel? Are you here?”
No answer.
There’s a half-full glass of wine sitting on her counter next to the computer. Nothing out of the ordinary.
“Hmm . . .” I pull out my phone and punch in her number. It goes straight to voicemail. I slide my phone back into my coat pocket before I check each room, looking for anything out of place, but I keep coming up empty. Her computer sits next to the barely touched wine, so I open it. It’s a complete invasion of privacy, but my worries top any concerns I have right now. I need to find her.
With a few strokes of the keys, I see she’s been talking to someone called Altruist. Jealousy blooms in my gut. Is she seeing another man? I scroll through the conversations, reading all the messages, and to my relief I see they’re only anonymous pen pals.
“Who the fuck is Matt?” My eyes are scanning every line. “And why the shit is Altruist telling her to stay away from me?” I’m angry. It’s easy to follow an IP address, and by giving Altruist enough information on me, he has enough information to find her.
The last line I read sends chills down my spine.
Sorry Altruist, I just got a call and I have to go help a friend. Talk to you later.
The time reads 3:58 a.m., and I inwardly curse. It was just after I dropped her off. The memory of her smiling when I left makes me angry at myself. If only I had stayed the night.
I snap the computer shut, my chest heaving as I fear the worst. They’re here. They’ve found her. Pulling out my phone, I dial Marco.
“Hey, Luca.”
“Marco, I do need your help after all.”
“Anything,” Marco says with conviction in his voice. As the founder of a software company, he can do almost anything legit—or under the table.
“I need you to find out who called a number last, and then I need to look at some surveillance footage.” What I really mean is I need him to hack into some cameras in the city. And he knows that.
“Send me the number.”
“I will. I’ll be at your office soon, but I have one stop to make first.”
“See you then.”
I click off and send him a quick text with Ariel’s number. “Tony, let’s head to the bar.”
~~~~
When we arrive, I go straight to Tommy’s office. He startles when I throw the door open and barge in.
“Mr. Damonte, how may I help you?”
“The woman who works with Ariel. I need her name and number.”
He’s shaking his head. “I can’t give out . . .”
I slam my fist on the desk, lean in so close my spit lands on his face when I speak. “I don’t give a fuck about your policy. You will give me her name and number.”
I see the fear in his eyes as he nods quickly, opens his desk drawer, and rummages through some papers. “Here it is.” He lays a roster on his desk with a shaky hand, then turns it in my direction.
I glance down. Jimmy and Alina. I punch in their numbers and store them in the contacts.
“Thanks, Tommy,” I say as I storm out of his office.
Before I make it out the door, Tommy calls out, “There were two FBI agents here not long ago. They were asking about Ariel.”
I turn, surprised. “What did you tell them?”
“Nothing. Just that she’s a good employee, and that she’s scheduled to start work at six tonight.”
Letting out a slow deep breath, I nod and say again, “Thanks, Tommy.”
As I head out of the bar, I call one of her friends. A sexy voice answers. “Hello?”
“Is this Alina?”
“It is. And who might you be?”
“This is Luca Damonte. Have you seen Ariel? Spoken to her lately?”
Her tone changes from sexy to concerned. “No, I haven’t. Not since leaving work last night.”
“Do you know who might’ve called her asking for help?”
“No. The only people she really talks to are me and Jimmy. And right now, she isn’t really talking to Jimmy.”
“Who’s Matt?”
“Matt? Hmm . . . Oh, I think he’s the construction worker that comes into the bar.”
“Does he visit every night?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.” I click off and then dial Jimmy.
“Jimmy speaking. Who’s this?”
“Jimmy, this is Luca—”
“What the fuck do you want?” His voice is curt, angry.
“Ariel’s missing. Have you spoken with her lately?”
“I haven’t seen her since she left last night. Everything okay?” He actually sounds worried.
“I’m not sure. Thanks, Jimmy.” I end the call and slide the phone into my front pocket. Tony opens the car door, I climb in, and we pull away.
We haven’t gone far when Tony says, “Boss?” I look up and catch his eyes in the rearview mirror. “I’m not sure, but I think we’re being followed.”
“Fuck!” I turn around and see the dark SUV a few cars back as it turns with us. It looks out of place and I wonder if it’s the FBI agents. “Make some turns and see if they stay with us.”
“Yes, boss.”
Tony takes a sharp right and then an immediate left, taking us the wrong direction.
The Secrets We Keep Page 11