“It’s possible,” she muttered. “But it doesn’t explain my dream.”
“Tell me about your dream.”
“I had a dream when I was taking a bath that I was standing over a little girl in a bathtub. I didn’t recognize the room and the tub was old and had places where the porcelain had chipped away. I looked at the little girl again, and it was my sister. She was underwater, and her eyes were open and glassed over. I pulled her out of the tub and tried to revive her. I couldn’t, Trina. I couldn’t bring her back to me.”
I looked into her eyes and saw only pain and loss. It would be easy to tell her it was just a dream, but she believed it was real, and I needed to help her see past that.
“Do you believe in premonitions?”
She looked at me in confusion. “Premonition? I don’t understand.”
“A forewarning of things to come,” I explained.
“My sister and I had a sort of connection. You know, the twin myth that I said we didn’t have. I lied. Well… I didn’t entirely lie. We’re not psychically connected or anything. I can just feel when she’s hurting or sad, that kind of thing.”
“Why would you lie about that?” I asked.
“Where once it used to be cute, being asked if we could read each other’s mind, it got embarrassing after a while. So, I just say no, we can’t, before anyone can ask.”
“Understandable,” I replied. “Getting back to your dream, she showed you that little girl first and then she became that girl, right?”
She darted her eyes, searching for understanding. It didn’t take long. “You think she was trying to tell me something?”
“I don’t know. I mean, there’s a reason your dream started with a little girl that you’ve never seen before. Maybe that’s where we need to look first?”
“Look for who?” she asked.
“Your sister and that little girl,” I replied.
“Do you really think my sister is alive, Trina?” she asked, pursing her lips and holding her breath.
“Yes, I do, I’m just not sure that Joey was involved in her disappearance. For all we know, he doesn’t even know you have a twin sister. As for you, he probably thinks you’re either dead, or if he let you live for reasons only he knows, thinks you’ve learned your lesson.”
“I have,” Joyce mumbled, looking down at her hands, absentmindedly playing with the corner of her blouse. “How do we find her? Where would we even begin to look?”
I knew she wasn’t thinking like a detective. She was thinking like a sibling who’s very worried about her sister. “I think we start by getting a look inside that apartment building they hurriedly evacuated. Maybe they left something behind.”
“How do we get in there? It’s a crime scene now. It’ll be swarming with cops.”
Smiling, I nodded. “Uniforms and forensics but not detectives. They will have already gone over the scene and left it to forensics to find something. And because it’s an entire building they have to process, they will be there for days. You wear my jacket, I flash my badge, and we’re in.”
“Would it be worth the risk to go by my place, so I can get my own jacket, gun, and badge? No one I work with knows where I live. I keep my work separate from my personal life.”
“You have a personal life?” I teased, as I walked through the possibilities.
“No, not really, but I prefer my privacy.”
“Okay, I think we can risk it. The thing about having a spy in our ranks is to be careful not to feed them information they can pass along. If we go tonight, under the cover of darkness, we can probably be in and out in a matter of minutes and not attract attention.”
“Good, because I’m dying to pick up some clothes that actually fit me.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think you look pretty cute in my clothes.”
“Well, thank you, but if I’m going back on duty, I need to be in clothes that fit so I can move quickly. And Trina, I am back on duty, and I do have to report in.”
She wasn’t going to give it up. “All right, but let’s be cautious. Call your boss and have him meet us tonight. Someplace out in the public. Like a busy restaurant or bar. Someplace noisy so we won’t be overheard.”
“Okay, I think I can get him to agree to that,” she replied.
“Good. Can you wait until tomorrow, after we get a look at the apartment building?”
“So that we have a better understanding of what to ask him?” she asked, thinking more like a detective now.
“Exactly.”
“But why wait until tomorrow? Shouldn’t we go tonight?”
“Normally I would go immediately but since I won’t be able to get the forensic reports by conventional means as fast as I’d like, I want to be there when the techs are working so I can talk with them.”
“It does tie our hands when we can’t just pull up the results on the computer, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, but I’ve been in this situation before. When Hurricane Harvey hit, I was working a case and the flooding shorted out the electricity. My cell phone worked until the battery died so I was working in the blind. Even though it was all hands on deck helping with the hurricane, I still needed to catch a murderer, so Paul and I went old school, using hard copies of mug shots and stuff like that.”
Her interest peaked, she leaned in close and asked, “Did you catch him?”
“We did. The idiot thought he could hide out in a shelter that had to be evacuated and the police recognized him. Easiest arrest I’ve ever made.”
“Okay, so give me a minute and I’ll call Jack and get him to meet us tomorrow night. Oh, do you have a restaurant in mind?”
“Most of the college restaurants are closed for repairs because of Hurricane Harvey, so let’s go to that pizza joint just off campus. I know they’re open.”
“Yeah, I know the one. It’ll be full of college kids and if someone older walks in who doesn’t look like a student, we’ll know that we were followed.”
“You got it,” I replied.
She nodded and picked up her burner phone from the kitchen counter.
I put my hand on her arm and said, “I know you trust him, but keep it brief, okay?”
“I doubt he’ll trace the call, but I’ll keep it short,” she replied, typing in his phone number. Then she tapped the speaker button.
“Jack Gray.”
“Jack, it’s Ruby.”
“Ruby, thank God,” he exclaimed. “Are you all right? Where are you?”
“I can’t talk right now but meet me tomorrow night at six o’clock at the pizzeria on 233 Main Street and I’ll explain everything.”
“I’ll be there.”
“And Jack, come alone.”
Chapter Nineteen
Her Awe-Inspiring Courage – Trina Wiles
Bright and early Wednesday morning, we jumped in the car and drove to Joyce’s apartment so she could get her stuff. While she was undercover, she kept her identification in a lock box at home. She basically went in naked, so-to-speak, stripped of anything that would bring attention to the fact that she was a Fed.
On the way, we went through a drive-thru and picked up breakfast. As Joyce munched on a bagel, I blew on my coffee before sipping it. That first jolt of caffeine in the morning set the world back on the right path. I really didn’t care for coffee, but I needed to be sharp and alert while we were running about.
“Wow,” I exclaimed as she showed me through the door to her apartment. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Where Lori’s living room was a bit flamboyant, Joyce’s living room was beautifully subdued. Two gray armchairs with blue and red pillows faced the navy-blue couch with white pillows. The round coffee table sat squarely in the middle with a blue vase and a few books on it. A built-in bookshelf held several thick books and there was no television, which told me that she preferred to read over watching TV. The room was warm and inviting, just like Joyce.
“Help yourself to a soda,” Joyce said,
pointing at the kitchen as she went to her bedroom to pack.
“All right, but don’t be too long.” I was anxious about her being out in public but knew she wouldn’t tolerate being locked up while I did the investigating.
The kitchen was amazing with blue and white accessories that complemented the living room. A pot rack hung from the ceiling over the kitchen island, with copper-toned pots of every shape and size dangling on a hook. One side of the island was a bookshelf filled with cookbooks. The side facing the stove had drawers, which I imagined held utensils. I opened the refrigerator and took two cans of soda out. Surprisingly, for someone who obviously loved to cook, her refrigerator was nearly empty. Sodas, a few condiments and an open box of baking soda were the only items on the shelves. I closed the door and opened the freezer. There wasn’t much in there either. She must have had time to clean out her food or give it away before going undercover.
I carried the sodas into her bedroom and handed her one. Admittedly, I was expecting a girlie-girl type bedroom, with dolls and teddy bears and such. Instead, her room looked much the same as mine, only without the free weights and television. A beautifully framed picture of who I assumed were her parents sat on the dresser, along with a bottle of perfume, a jewelry box, and of all things, a pair of socks.
It was obvious that she spent all her time and money on the kitchen and living room. Unlike Lori, Joyce’s bedroom was just a place to sleep. Realizing I had been comparing the two of them, I frowned and walked back into the living room.
She carried her suitcase of clothes into the living room and set it on the couch. “I’ll need to return the other suitcase to the convent soon,” she said, and then went into the kitchen. She came back carrying, of all things, her favorite cookbook. Tossing it into the suitcase, she went into the bathroom next. I looked over at her open suitcase and, for some reason, found that what she had packed was fascinating. I didn’t rifle through her luggage, but I could see her clothes, of course, her Bible and rosary, a bottle of perfume, and the box of photos her sister had kept at the convent. This was what she thought she needed to get by on. She came out of the bathroom and put a large makeup case in the pocket of the suitcase.
“You wear makeup?” I asked.
“Yes, and I’ve missed it. My face is so pale and blotchy.”
“No, your face is perfect without it,” I declared.
She looked at me for a moment and then smiled. “Do you know how charming you are?”
I am? I didn’t mean to be.
“You don’t know, do you?” she asked.
“Of course, I know,” I lied. “All the women find me charming without my even trying.” Yeah, that was too much.
“Oh, well then. You won’t need me adding to your charming big head.”
“Yeah, thanks. My head’s pretty big as it is and it’s getting too heavy to carry. I may need you to help me carry it.”
She laughed and swatted me on the arm.
*
I parked my car in front of the building and turned to Joyce. “Remember, just because you’re armed doesn’t mean you leave my side, right?”
“I’m a trained Federal agent,” she shot back. “I know how to handle myself.”
Her transformation from the timid, scared victim to a gun-toting Federal agent was amazing to watch. “Maybe so, but may I remind you that you were alone when you were blindsided by those two men. I don’t want that happening again.” It was harsh, I knew, but it was the only way I thought I could break through her stubbornness.
She shook her head. “No, I don’t want that either. Okay, partner, I’ll stick to you like glue.”
“Thank you. I actually feel better knowing that you’ve got my back.”
She gazed at me for a moment. “Always,” she said and got out of the car.
I got out also, and we both looked up at the building. “Do you remember being here?”
“Yes. I worked on the ninth floor,” she replied. “The ninth floor has five studio apartments while the tenth floor has three two-bedroom apartments. It’s a ten story building, and the family rented out the top two floors. The tenth floor was their residence, and the ninth floor their business.”
“You say family, but it sounds like only Joey lived here.”
She shook her head. “The family moved around a lot but while I was here, two cousins and a nephew lived here, too.”
“All right. Let’s go in and get a look at where you worked,” I said, putting my hand on the small of her back and following her into the building.
We got off the elevator on the ninth floor and noticed that the door to her office was open, with yellow police tape across the threshold.
We ducked under the tape and walked into the room.
Like most studio apartments, only the closet and bathroom had doors. There was a double bed tucked behind a wooden divider, a cheap metal desk where the breakfast table would have been, and a small kitchen with a tiny stove, sink, microwave, and a medium-sized refrigerator. There were papers scattered on the floor, and the bed had been tossed, as if the room had been searched.
“You lived here, too?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah. They preferred to keep an eye on their property, which is what I had become. Every piece of the business was chopped up into sections and kept separate from the whole. I worked on the legit books at first, as a test. But by the end of the third month, they had me covering the illegal piece of the business with legal subterfuge. I knew there had to be other staff around but I never saw anyone except for the guards and cleaning staff. The guards brought me my meals and escorted me whenever I left the building. It was like I was in jail. They would come in on a whim and search the room. Making sure I wasn’t doing anything they deemed wrong. Unless you were family, they didn’t trust you.”
“And were you doing anything wrong?”
She shook her head. “Depends on who you ask. I did stash an SD card with incriminating information on it,” she said with a smile. She walked over to the desk and rummaged through the drawers. “It looks like they took the computer and my notes, but I’m not sure whether it was the FBI or Joey’s people who took them.”
“I don’t think forensics has been in here yet,” I said.
“Good, maybe we’ll get lucky. Let’s see if they missed it.”
“Missed what?”
“The SD card I kept a copy of everything on,” she replied as she walked into the bathroom. “I think it was what they were looking for at your apartment.”
“But it wasn’t in my apartment, was it?”
“No. it was here all along,” she said, taking the tank lid off. “They would look inside and even flush the tank, but that was all they did. I guess they didn’t want to get their hands wet. I’ll be surprised if it’s still there though, after the bureau got through searching the place.” She unhooked the floater and pulled it apart. Inside was a plastic bag. “Well. Color me surprised,” she said as she pulled the SD card from the bag.
“You’re a genius,” I exclaimed.
“No, just lucky.” She held up the card. “Everything on here is enough to put Joey away for a long time. I had planned to turn it over to Jack when it was time to go in, but I was waiting to find out about Joey’s parents’ arrival before I met with him.”
“How many times have you and Jack met during this operation?”
“Never. It was too dangerous. Any time they let me out, they sent a guard with me. A particularly nasty bitch with a God complex. I think even Joey was scared of her.”
“Did she hurt you?” I asked.
“They called her Big Bertha because she was big and bulky, and pushy and demanding, but she wasn’t that way toward me. She treated me more like her protectee. You see, I was chosen for this operation not just because I knew accounting. My size played a big part in it, too. No one would suspect that a shy, short accountant would be a Fed.”
“It’s a gamble, either way,” I said. Someone did take advantage of your size. “You
were so deep undercover that you were on your own for almost a year?”
“Technically, I was inside for three months, but the whole operation took a year to set up. And I wasn’t completely on my own while I was inside. I reported in to Jack, just not in person. We had drop zones where I would leave information or evidence.”
“You carried evidence out of here?” I asked incredulously. “How’s that possible?”
“Easy. I collected hair. Sounds macabre I know. But having the family’s DNA on file would help us tie them to a lot of crimes. I was searched coming in and going out and not once did they find the hair that was in my jeans pocket. When I turned my pockets out to show them, I held onto it.”
“You are very good at that stuff,” I said, impressed. Such a change from the victim I talked down at the church. I knew Joyce was courageous even without her memories, but I couldn’t imagine what kind of courage it would take to walk into such a volatile situation unarmed.
“Thank you, again. But it was what I had been trained to do.” She put the SD card in her pocket and walked out of the bathroom. “I got what I needed. There’s an apartment at the end of the hall that I was never allowed in. I saw them take some girls in there once and that’s how I got my black eye. Trying to sneak inside. Shall we go check it out?”
“After you, Special Agent.”
There were four apartments on this floor and they all had their doors open. Uniforms guarded the entranceways and forensic techs, both local and FBI, darted in and out of the apartments carrying evidence bags large and small. I recognized one of the techs coming out of the apartment as we walked up.
“Hey, Kenny. Find anything good?” I asked.
“Oh, hey, Trina. I think this was the prison they used to house the girls before the auction.”
“What makes you think that?” Joyce asked.
Kenny pointed to a pile of evidence bags on the floor beside a red sharp disposable container. The bags were filled with zip ties. He picked up a bag and handed it to her. “I found them all over the living room and bedroom.
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