by J. L. Drake
As he approached the next intersection he slowed down until the light turned yellow, then he changed lanes to get around the car in front of him and gassed it through the light as it turned red. He heard squealing tires and honks all around him, but he didn’t pay attention to them. All he was focused on was the police cruiser following three car lengths behind him that had gotten caught up in traffic.
Roger took a couple random turns and zig-zagged through the city for a little while before he pulled into a busy grocery store parking lot, removed the mechanical company logos from the sides of the van, and changed out his license plates with a mini-van. After doing so he headed home to call Jennings and let him know that he hadn’t gotten into the building to do any cleaning, and that the local cops seemed to be looking for them. The authorities were getting way too close for comfort. He didn’t like that they had gotten so close to him, even though he’d gotten away…this time.
***
Sonya stopped at a small, out of the way market that had a parking lot in a back alley and changed out her license plates with another vehicle’s. She then headed home to pack her things and get ready to move. She had all her stuff in her car before she stopped to call Lloyd, to get a second opinion and make sure she wasn’t going completely insane. Besides, if she was right, they all needed to watch their asses—Miles had probably been arrested. He knew where she lived, their names, and where they’d been running their operation. She doubted he would be able to keep his mouth shut for long.
“I should have just killed the bastard,” she mumbled while she was waiting for Lloyd to answer.
“Now who do you want to kill?” Lloyd asked in an amused tone.
“Miles,” she snarled. “The FBI was poking around at the hospital today. I just took off and headed home.”
“What were they looking for? Did they see you?” he asked in a rush. “Did you change out your plates? What do they know about you?”
“Yes, yes,” she said, rubbing her forehead and closing her eyes, “I changed out my plates on the way home. I’m really freaked out. And slow down, I’m only getting about half your questions.”
“Are you being followed?”
“Definitely not,” she said, “but they probably have Miles and possibly my work records with my address. I’ve packed my stuff and it’s in my car.”
“Burn down your house,” he said, “and meet me across town—you know where.”
“Are you sure that’s necessary?” she asked, looking at her house.
“Yes,” he said. “Hurry!”
Chapter 41
With a bolo alert out on the woman’s license plates and Miles in custody, McCoy and Croce were on their way back to the FBI office when David received a call from Detective Jones.
“Hello?” he said, hoping for good news.
“A patrol car spotted someone driving around one of the abandoned manufacturing districts,” Detective Jones said. “The vehicle—a white van—had decals for a mechanical company that didn’t pan out in an internet search. They followed the vehicle, but got separated in traffic. It’s the only occurrence, so I thought I should relay the information to you. A patrol is currently searching around the buildings in that district. The buildings are only five miles from where Housen’s car was found.”
“Did they get the license plate?” he asked. “Are you checking for the vehicle on traffic cams throughout the city?”
“They did and we are,” Jones assured him. “But we haven’t found anything yet.”
“Text me directions to where the vehicle was seen,” he said. “We’ll head over there.”
“I’ll send it your way in just a second,” Jones said, and they ended the call.
“What’s going on?” Croce said, glancing sideways at him.
“One of the patrols spotted a vehicle at an abandoned manufacturing district five miles from where Housen was taken—they lost it in traffic.”
“Damn,” Croce said. “Do you need me to drop you there? Or do you want to wait until we get back to the field office—I can take care of him,” she nodded to the backseat, “and you can take the car, if you want.”
“Yeah, we’ll do that,” he said. “I have to wait for Detective Jones to send me the address anyhow.”
Croce sped up so they would make it to the office sooner.
David’s phone received the text from Jones just as they were pulling into the parking lot. After they’d parked, he helped get Miles, all the files they’d brought from his morgue, and the nurse’s—Sonya’s—employee file from the hospital into the building.
Before he headed out to where they’d seen the vehicle earlier that day, he texted Detective Jones the Sonya-woman’s supposed home address, asking her to send someone over to pick her up. He knew Croce was going to be sending someone too, since they’d discussed it briefly at the hospital when they’d gotten her employee file.
The entire stop took fifteen minutes and he was cursing every damn one of them.
***
Roger drove straight back to his house, and once he was safely inside, he called Jennings.
“Cops showed up when I went back to clean,” he said as soon as the old man answered. “They followed me, but I lost them in traffic.”
“Did you get a chance to clean anything?” Jennings asked.
“No,” Roger said, and sighed. “I didn’t even get out of the van. They were cruising the area, I spotted them, and turned around in a different parking lot. They followed me as I headed back into the city, but I lost them.”
Jennings sighed. “You did great, but this is the last thing we need today…the FBI was sniffing around the hospital where Sonya worked and they more than likely have Miles in custody.”
“What?” Roger exclaimed. “They were at the hospital today? Do you think we should cancel the harvest tomorrow?”
“I’m not too concerned—we’ll probably be long gone before the authorities figure out enough to do anything about it. We’ll proceed as planned.”
“Okay…” Roger said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess.”
They confirmed the time Roger and Butch would need to be at Jan’s house for the “move” and then ended the call.
Roger sat down heavily on his couch, dropped his phone on the cushion beside him, and held his head in his hands. He couldn’t believe they were going to go ahead with the harvest with the authorities so close.
***
Lloyd was waiting for Sonya when she arrived at the agreed upon meeting place—a small ethnic restaurant on the other side of the city.
“Are you okay?” he asked, walking toward her as she climbed out of her car.
She nodded and went willingly into his open embrace.
“Are you sure that was necessary?” she asked him. “You do know that a lot of families live in that neighborhood and the fire might spread, right?”
He shrugged. “It was the best way to get rid of any evidence left behind and they wouldn’t have anything else to trail you with. Moving buildings seems to be one of the smartest things the team has done lately. Even if they have Miles, he won’t know where to look for anyone but you. He knew the address to the building, which they could find some evidence in, but it still won’t give them anything that will lead to anyone or the new place. The fire gives us a clean break.”
“Yes, you’re right,” she said, looking around her, paranoid.
“I thought you said you weren’t followed,” Lloyd said, frowning and looking around too.
Sonya sighed. “I wasn’t. I just…I don’t know. Things have been really weird today.”
“How so?”
She shrugged. “I thought I saw someone I harvested in Los Angeles at the hospital, but how could that be possible?” She ended with a nervous laugh.
Lloyd thought about it for a moment and shrugged off her confusion as nervous tension.
“So, anyway, I can’t go back to my place because it’s too warm for me now,” Sonya joked. “Can I stay with you? I
definitely can’t stay with Jennings…”
“No, babe,” Lloyd said, “you can’t stay with me. Butch knows where I’m staying and I really don’t want him to find you there alone if I have to go do something. I think you should stay with Roger.”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “Roger is the most logical choice after you. I can’t go to a hotel. They have to have a picture of me by now and might start circulating it.”
“Damn,” Lloyd said. “I didn’t think of that. We better get this harvest done fast, before Jan sees your mug on TV or something.”
“We can hope she has disconnected the TV by now, since they’re moving tomorrow. But even if she hasn’t, I’m sure she’s too busy to be watching TV and the kids are probably watching all kid shows. We should be okay.”
“I hope so,” Lloyd said. “Call Roger and see if he minds having a roommate so we can get you settled somewhere for the night.” He held out a new cell phone and opened his other hand to receive her old one. “I’ve already programmed in the contacts you’ll need.”
She smiled ruefully, traded in her cell phone, and called Roger.
Chapter 42
Detective Jones was waiting at the entrance of the manufacturing area when David arrived. She had her arms crossed and she was leaning on the front fender of her car, facing the street. He assumed she was positioned that way so she could see him coming.
He pulled the car up next to hers, killed the engine, and climbed out.
“I didn’t know you were coming—thank you for meeting me here,” he said, before she had a chance to say anything. “In a matter of just hours we’ve managed to lose two suspects. It’s a great day, isn’t it?”
“What?” she said, frowning and standing up straight.
“But we’ve managed to nab an accomplice,” he said. “Oh, that reminds me…did you get someone out to the other address I sent to you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I haven’t heard back from them yet. What is all this about?”
“I’m trying to say I’m not mad at you, or your officer colleagues—I’m just frustrated,” David sighed and said. “We’re on the right track.” He looked around them and at the buildings nearby. “Have the officers found anything suspicious? Do we know who owns any of these properties?”
Jones shook her head. “They’re all foreclosed on by a local bank. The officers looked around, but didn’t find anything that threw up any flags. I wanted to see what you wanted to do before we pushed further.” She shrugged.
“I was hoping they would have found something,” David said, sighed, and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Let me see if Croce has gotten any information out of the morgue accomplice we arrested—if he knows which building they were operating in, that would save us a lot of time.”
Croce answered on the second ring.
“Yes?” she said, knowing it was David.
“Did you interrogate the prisoner yet?” he asked. “We have no idea what building we need to look for. If you could get an address out of him it would be great.”
“Yes,” she said. “I just happened to get that address from him.”
“Can you text it to me?” he asked.
“Coming your way in just a second,” she said, and they ended the call.
“Good news,” he announced to Jones. “They got the address of the building from the morgue accomplice. Croce is texting it to me.”
As he finished speaking his phone announced the arrival of the text; he showed it to Jones.
They climbed into their cars and drove down the road to find the exact building they’d been looking for. There was nothing special about it and nothing looked out of place.
“How do we know if the guy was telling the truth?” Jones asked as she climbed out of her parked car. “There’s nothing here.”
“Let’s take a quick look around and see if we notice anything,” David suggested, advancing toward the building.
He walked up the ramp and headed toward the only door visible from the parking lot. There was a cinder block sitting beside the door that had left scrape marks on the concrete around it like it had been moved multiple times. He also noticed that there was a new looking latch for a padlock screwed to the door.
“You might want to come take a look,” he called out to Jones, only to realize she was already right behind him. He smiled sheepishly for having yelled in her face. “Sorry. Look.” He pointed to the marks on the concrete and at the door.
Jones’ cell phone rang and she pulled it out of her pocket to answer it.
“Okay,” she barked, and frowned. “Just go back to the precinct for now. There’s not much you can do until you get a detailed report from the fire department.”
David turned to her and raised his eyebrows in question.
Jones sighed. “The address you sent me for the woman…well, the patrol checked it out. The place has burned to the ground.”
“Damn!” David exclaimed, balled his hands into fists, and slammed them against his legs. “We’re so fucking close, but we can’t get our hands on them—it’s like they’re a step ahead of us at every turn.”
He pulled out his cell phone and called Croce.
“Hey, send out a forensic team to the building,” he said before she could say more than hello. “Oh, and did you send a couple agents out to the woman’s house?”
“Yes, but the place had been set on fire,” she said, confirming what Jones had just told him.
“See if you can put some pressure on the fire department to get us any information they can as fast as they can. And lay on that morgue weasel hard. We need to find these people before they take off and we lose their trail. Call me if anything new turns up.”
Jones watched him while he spoke. She knew he was right and he was handling everything well. Just standing within five feet of him she could feel his excitement and his frustration—it radiated off of him like emotional heat.
“Do you think they’ve given up on their plans for this weekend and taken off?” Jones asked as soon as he’d ended the call. “Or do you think they’ve moved shop someplace else?”
David rubbed his forehead with his fingers and took slow deep breaths, trying to think.
“Logically, since we’re so close, I would expect them to flee,” he finally said, looking at Jones. “But if the medical examiner doesn’t know much, they’ve moved base, and the woman has covered her tracks well—which she has so far—they might be bold enough to think they’re fine to go ahead with their plans.”
Jones nodded in agreement.
“But if they are going ahead with their plans,” he continued like he was simply thinking out loud and not talking to another person, “I would expect things to happen tomorrow. We’re close and they know we’re close. They would only risk staying if they figured we couldn’t find them and stop them in time.”
“This is frustrating,” Jones said. “What can I do—we do—to help the FBI before they get away? I know you need the manpower and fast.”
“I guess the only thing we can do right now is try to find where they might have moved their operation…or watch places around the city where they might try to pick people up—they’ll need bodies if they’re going to have a ‘sizable amount of organs’,” David said with a shrug. “Talk to your Captain and see if your patrols can start doing searches of every abandoned building in the city. And I guess we should release the woman’s photo, since we can’t have someone watching every single bar and nightclub in the city.”
“Searching buildings is going to take a while,” Jones said, frowning and looking around. “Do you have a decent picture of the woman? Can you have someone send it over? Or are you guys going to handle the media release?”
“Yeah, we have a couple good pictures now and I have a guy that can do it. You guys focus on the buildings and see if you can keep cars patrolling close to bars and clubs once it gets dark.” He paused, thinking for a moment about how they could target their search for the building bet
ter to save time. “Have them start looking at buildings on the other side of the city in the remotest locations possible. They’re too smart to have set up anything close to here or anything that would be easy to find.”
“Do you want me to wait here with you for the forensic team? Or head out and get the search started?”
“Go ahead and get the search started—we’ll be battling for enough daylight to get any decent search time today,” David said. “I’m fine here on my own—it’s not like they’ll come back to kill me or anything.” He laughed. “If your Captain has any issues, have him call me.”
“Okay.” Jones turned and headed back down toward the parking lot. She yelled, “Good luck!” right before climbing into her car and driving away.
***
While David waited outside the building for the forensic team, he called Limmon to check in and have him release the woman’s photo to the press to warn any bar goers to beware of her. The call took a few minutes, but he didn’t mind. He couldn’t risk going in the building and contaminating the evidence.
They arrived by van within thirty minutes after the end of his call with Limmon, who promised to relay everything to Croce once she was out of her second interrogation with Miles.
Before entering the building, David had them dust the door for prints. He knew that most people would think to wipe off the handles of a door, but usually wouldn’t think to wipe down the entire door surface. No one thought anything of pressing their hand to a door to push or hold it open, and that’s what he was hoping to find—an entire hand print. Finger prints were great, but sometimes they were only partials, and with a hand print they would have a chance at five prints and a palm.
Once the outside of the door was done, they did the same to the inside; they found a total of two palms and ten partial prints.
Forcing himself to stay calm and focused—he wanted to speed back to the office and run the prints right that second—he led the way inside.