by Matt Lincoln
“Yeah,” he replied. “I guess so, anyway. That’s always where we arrange to pick them up.”
“Can you give us the address of the apartment in Aruba where you took the girls?” I asked.
“I don’t know it,” he replied with a shrug. “Someone from their group always meets us at the ship and takes us over. I kind of remember how to get there, but I don’t know the street or anything like that.”
I hid the disappointment I felt at that. At least we knew for sure that the drugs were coming in from Aruba on a regular basis.
“Okay,” I replied as I picked the tablet back up and opened the video of the other suspect from the dining room. I pressed play and turned it toward Andre. “Can you tell us who this is?”
“I’m not sure,” he mumbled as he squinted down at the tablet screen. “Oh, wait! I think I do remember him. He was there with another group of girls. Kept dragging them all around with him like he was afraid they were gonna run if he lost sight of them. As if they could go anywhere in the middle of the sea.” He chuckled at his own remark, and I had to tamp down my own annoyance at him.
“So he isn’t part of your group then?” I clarified as I took the tablet back.
“Nah.” He shook his head as he leaned back in his chair. “Never even spoken to the guy before.”
“While we’re on the subject of your group,” I continued, “you need to tell me everything about the trafficking ring you’re involved with. Where it’s based, who all is involved, everything.”
“Are you crazy?” Andre snapped, staring at me as though I’d just grown a second head. “You know what’ll happen to me if I snitch? You think I’ve got a death wish or something?”
“Do you understand what will happen to you if you don’t talk to us?” I countered. “Remember what I told you earlier? About judges and how they usually like it when people cooperate?”
Honestly, I had no intention of doing Andre any favors at that point. Everything he said and done repulsed me so much that he could rot in prison for the rest of his life for all I cared. Regardless, I had a feeling the bluff might work.
“Fine, fine,” Andre muttered as he shifted around uncomfortably, looking everywhere but back at me as he spoke. “I’ll tell you.”
“Good,” I replied as I prepared to make a note of the information on my tablet. “I’m listening.”
11
Ethan
It relieved me when we finally wrapped up Andre’s interrogation. Dealing with rotten, ugly people wasn’t anything new to me, but I could never get used to hearing someone just casually talk about abusing or hurting innocent people like it was nothing. Andre really saw all of those women that died as though they were expendable goods, and I left the interrogation feeling like I needed a long, scalding shower.
After we’d finished extracting the information about Andre’s gang from him, we’d immediately gone to Diane to fill her in. Since Holm and I still needed to pursue the Aruba angle, she decided that Birn and Munoz would be the ones to head to California to deal with that end of things. That took care of that particular issue, but there was still the bigger problem of the drugs. It was evident from both Gabby’s testimony and Andre’s interrogation that multiple groups were involved in this drug trafficking ring, so our work was far from over.
“When are you leaving?” I asked Birn and Munoz, who had stopped by our desks to go over the pertinent details of the case before heading out.
“Tonight, I think,” Birn replied as he crossed his arms and leaned against the edge of my desk. “Diane said she was arranging the flights. If we can’t figure out something for today, then early tomorrow morning.”
“Where are you guys headed again?” Munoz asked as she read through all the information we’d gathered so far.
“Aruba,” I replied as I fiddled with an empty coffee mug that was still sitting on my desk from this morning. “Everything we’ve learned so far keeps pointing back to there. I just wish we knew exactly where to start.”
“Well, it’s got to be close to the marina where the ship docked, right?” Munoz noted as she handed the tablet she was looking through to Birn. “The victim that survived said that they were taken off the ship, taken to an apartment, and then brought back. It couldn’t have been that far then.”
“That’s a good point,” I replied.
“Did the victim say how long the whole thing took?” Munoz asked. “Depending on the timeframe, you’d probably be able to narrow it down further.”
“I don’t think she did,” I replied as I went through the conversation we had with Gabby in my mind. “She only said that they were taken by car, taken to the apartment, and then came right back to the ship.”
“She probably wouldn’t have had any idea how long it took even if we had asked her,” Holm sighed. “It’s not like she had a watch or phone or anything to tell the time, and honestly, she seemed so out of it while we were talking to her that I doubt she was paying that much attention to the passage of time, to begin with.”
“If only we could still speak with her,” I muttered bitterly as the thought of what Andre had done to her incited a fresh spark of anger within me. “That was a good point, though, Munoz. Thanks.”
“No problem.” She smiled before turning to Birn. “Anyway, let’s go see what Diane’s figured out. I want to know if I’m going to be able to go home and get some shut-eye before we leave.”
Birn nodded before putting the tablet away and following Munoz over to Diane’s office.
“I wonder how Gabby’s doing,” Holm muttered once they’d both left. He was frowning, and there was a vacant, almost empty look in his eyes. I suddenly remembered that he was the one who had stayed behind to help keep her alive while I’d chased after Andre. Her blood had completely soaked him by the time he’d caught up to us. The scene had been horrifying for me, and I’d only stood there for a few seconds. Holm had been in the thick of it.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” I said in an attempt to reassure him. “Diane said she was in recovery, right? She’ll be okay. She survived where thirty other people didn’t.”
“You’re right,” Holm replied, shaking his head slightly as if to shake off whatever dark thoughts had invaded his mind. “Anyway, about Aruba, any idea what we should do first once we get there?”
“Well, we should speak to the police there, for starters,” I replied as I set the coffee mug back down, vaguely wondering if I should go for a refill. “To get in touch with a liaison, obviously, but also to ask about the current gang situation. The police there are sure to know more about what’s going on in their own city than we do. They might push us in the right direction.”
“Unless they’re corrupt,” Holm snorted. “Wouldn’t be the first time that we had to deal with cops that were covering for the bad guys. Or the second. Or the--”
“Let’s just stay positive on that front,” I cut him off before he could go any further. Unfortunately, we had come across less-than-honest law enforcement officers during our time as MBLIS agents. It was inevitable, really. No matter what the profession, there were bound to be a few rotten apples here and there. Regardless, we couldn’t just assume that everyone we encountered was secretly working against us.
“Oh, looks like Birn and Munoz are off,” I remarked as the pair stepped out of Diane’s office and promptly walked toward the exit. Diane came out after them, but rather than heading in the same direction, she turned and walked toward us.
“So when are we going to Aruba?” I asked as she came to a stop in front of us, assuming that’s what she was coming to talk to us about.
“Tomorrow morning,” she replied before turning to Holm. “Commercial, I’m afraid. The possibility of getting another jet will have to wait for now.”
“Oh well,” he sighed mournfully as he rested his chin against his hand.
“In any case,” Diane continued, “I’ve managed to dig up some information that might prove useful. Apparently, another ship from the same
cruise line is due to arrive in Aruba two days from now. Exact same schedule and stops.”
“You think there might be more victims on board?” I asked, my heart rate increasing with alarm.
“I think there’s a pretty good possibility,” she replied. “Considering one of the names that Andre Moore gave us came back as a match to one of the passengers on board.”
“There’s no way that’s a coincidence,” Holm scoffed.
“I don’t think so either,” Diane agreed. “I think there’s another load of women on that ship who are headed for the same fate as we speak. I want you to go down there and wait for its arrival. Once it comes into dock, watch for anyone suspicious. If they repeat the same pattern as before, someone from the Aruba gang will arrive to meet up with the trafficker from California. The moment you spot them, apprehend them. Our priority is making sure we recover the victims safely. After that, focus on finding the rest of the Aruban gang.”
“Got it,” I replied seriously. It was chilling to think that even as we sat here, who knows how many other victims were currently on their way to be forced into being drug mules. It felt wrong, in a way, to wait two days to rescue them, but I knew that we shouldn’t jump the gun. If we went out and arrested the man now, then we might never find the rest of the people involved, and then they would probably go on trafficking drugs into the US with different groups.
“Go home and pack your things then,” Diane replied. “You’re flying out at six a.m. sharp.”
12
Ethan
The flight from Miami to Aruba was just under three hours long and absolutely packed with people. It was clear from the way they were dressed that the majority were vacationers. Sundresses, tropical shirts, khaki shorts, and oversized sunglasses filled the plane, as did the overwhelming scent of sunscreen.
It was always so surreal to look around on these kinds of cases and see all the happy, smiling faces. These people were completely at ease, ready to have fun, and completely unaware of the horrible things that would be going on so close to them.
I glanced out the window as the plane began to descend into the Queen Beatrix International Airport or, as it was more colloquially known, the Aruba Airport. The island was mostly flat, with only a few small hills in the distance. The entire thing was a lush, bright green, with pops of color interspersed between the foliage where the tall buildings cut through the treeline.
Despite the crowding as everyone rushed to get off of the plane once it finally landed, it seemed like everyone was in a good mood. Dealing with the airport was always one of the most tedious parts of any case. It took so long to get off the plane, and then through security, and possibly even customs, depending on where we went, and the entire time, my anticipation to get into the meat of the case continued to grow.
“So, what are we going to do for the rest of the day?” Holm asked after we’d finally made it through the security.
“After we meet with our liaison?” I asked as we stepped out of the airport and onto the street. “I’m not sure, actually.” The cruise ship wasn’t set to arrive until tomorrow morning, which meant that we had a full day to wait. Of course, we were going to go meet with our liaison and speak with the police now, but that wasn’t going to take more than a few hours at most. “Let’s go check into the hotel and then figure it out.”
I looked up the car rental place I’d found on my phone earlier that morning before the flight. There was one within walking distance of the airport. Probably more expensive, due to the convenience, but it was better to get one as soon as possible. I led the way over to the rental place, which was actually attached to the airport itself.
“Look at that line,” Holm muttered as we stepped into place behind the last person at the end of a queue that stretched through the doors.
“Good thing we’re not in a hurry today,” I replied. On another occasion, the delay might have put me on edge. Usually, we would have hit the ground running as soon as we arrived at a destination, so it actually felt weird that we were taking things at such a leisurely pace.
I didn’t bother fussing with the type of car we rented and instead chose one that wasn’t particularly flashy. We just needed something that would get us from place to place and not draw undue attention. Once we had a means of transportation, the next thing we needed to do was drop our things off at the hotel.
“It’s not very far from here,” I noted as I input the address into the GPS on my phone. “We should be there in about five minutes.”
As we drove away from the airport and further into the heart of the city, I noticed that the buildings became significantly more colorful. It was a trend I had noticed in most of the tropical islands we’d visited as part of our cases, but the buildings in Oranjestad, the capital of Aruba, took it to another level. I felt as though I was driving through a town filled with dollhouses. Bright pastel colors melted into a blur as we drove past. I couldn’t get a good look without taking my eyes off the road, and I made a mental note to have a closer look later.
A jaunty, multicolored sign greeted us as we arrived at our hotel, the Jewel Beach Club and Hotel. It was definitely a more budget location if the massive resorts we had passed on the drive here were anything to go by, but it was still a very picturesque place and close to the water, as virtually every hotel on the island was.
The front exterior of the hotel somewhat resembled something out of an old Western, or maybe something that you might come across in a rural New Mexican town. The entire hotel was an earthy, terracotta brown, constructed with wide, expansive arches and rectangular lines. The parking lot was surprisingly empty, so I had no trouble at all finding a spot close to the entrance.
“How far is the police station from here?” Holm asked as we got out of the car. The moment I stepped out, I was hit with the scent of the ocean, as well as a pleasant tropical scent that I couldn’t quite place. Maybe coconuts?
“Not very far, I don’t think,” I replied to Holm’s question as I dug my phone out of my pocket to check for sure. “About five minutes from here, at the edge of town.”
“Cool,” he replied as he walked around to open the trunk and retrieve his bag. I followed suit and grabbed my own duffle bag before closing the trunk and heading toward the entrance of the hotel.
The interior was clean and smelled like freshly washed sheets. It was cozily decorated with furniture in shades of brown and orange. Just a few steps from the entrance, a woman wearing thick, round glasses sat behind a reception desk, chewing on the end of a pencil as he stared down at a half-finished crossword puzzle.
“Hello,” she greeted us with a smile as Holm and I approached her, setting the crossword to the side as she spoke. “Welcome to the Jewel. How may I help you today?”
“I’m Agent Ethan Marston,” I replied. “This is Agent Holm. We have reservations for two rooms here.”
“Okay, just one moment,” she replied before turning to the computer on the desk and typing something into it. She opened her eyes extremely wide as she did, as though she couldn’t make out what she was reading despite the thick glasses she was wearing. “Yes, I see it right here. Room two-eleven and two-twelve. If I could just see some ID, I can get you two all set up with your keys.”
I instinctively reached for my badge before remembering that my passport would probably make more sense in this situation. It wasn’t like we were here to interrogate anyone, and the receptionist was probably a lot more familiar with a passport than she would be with a Federal government ID.
“Perfect,” she replied as Holm and I both handed her our passports. Once again, she opened her eyes extremely wide, blinking several times as she looked between our passports and the computer screen before finally handing them back to us. “Okay, let me just check this… Oh, good. It looks like the rooms have already been turned over, and you can check-in now. Let me just get your keys.” She grabbed two blank white plastic cards out of a drawer beneath the desk before scanning them against a machine next to th
e computer.
“Here you go,” she said as she handed one of the cards to Holm before turning and holding the other one out to me. “And here’s yours. Breakfast is complimentary and available from six to eight. If there’s anything you need, please don’t hesitate to ask me. I hope you have a wonderful time during your stay here in Oranjestad.”
“Thanks,” I replied as I took the card and walked past the desk toward the sign marked ‘Elevators.’ Once again, I felt the odd dissonance I’d felt earlier on the plane. The woman had just been doing her job and being polite, but there was no way we were going to enjoy our stay here. Unlike the majority of the people that came through this building, we weren’t here to have fun.
I checked the time as Holm and I stepped into the elevator. It was ten in the morning. We hadn’t arranged to be at the police station at any particular time, only that we would be there after our flight landed. I thought back to the question Holm had asked me outside the airport about what we were going to do for the rest of the day.
“Want to meet back in the lobby in five?” Holm asked as the elevator arrived on the second floor.
“Sure,” I replied as we stepped out of the elevator and into the hallway.
The hallway was interestingly constructed. There were only rooms on one side, while the other was completely open. Wide, square windows lined the entire wall, like a massive balcony, and I could once again smell that tropical, coconut scent that I’d first detected upon arriving. It was like a hybrid between a motel and a hotel, with the room doors and windows facing the hallway.
I used my card to open my hotel room door and stepped inside. The room, like the lobby, was bright, open, and clean. It was a pretty simple room, with a queen-sized bed taking up the majority of the space. A large cabinet was pressed against the opposite wall. On top of the cabinet was a flat-screen TV and a plastic rack filled with pamphlets and fliers that I assumed were advertising different sights and activities around the city. A table and two chairs were set at the other end of the room, next to a bulky, rectangular air conditioning unit. Overall, it was fairly standard as far as hotel rooms went, but comfortable nonetheless.