Allison Brennan - Fatal Secrets

“It happened so fast.” Riley was quickly fading. “I’m okay.”

“You damn well better be. Your sister scares the hell out of me.”

“Call her.”

A doctor and three nurses came in. Black said, “I’m staying with the girl. Get him stable. I need to talk to him ASAP.”

Dean could tell Sonia’s decision to bring him fully on board had been difficult, but it was the right choice. If they were going to take down Xavier Jones, she had to trust him without reservation. There was no middle ground.

She said, “I set up layers of security measures to protect Vega. It’s not even easy for me to talk to him quickly without jeopardizing him.”

“What’s he doing? Trying to find files or photo graphs-”

She shook her head. “I need to catch Jones red-handed. I need a location-to observe an exchange of illegal immigrants for money. Hell, I’d get him on smuggling aliens into the country if I could, but he doesn’t get his hands dirty. What he does do, though, is meet with the principals. It might not be at the same time as the exchange, but it’s being discussed, and if I can get in, if I know where the meeting is, I can plant hidden cameras and microphones. Vega said there’s something going down soon, but I don’t have an exact date or a location. All I know is it’s local. And it’s connected to three dozen kidnapped teenage women from China. As soon as I know the details, we’ll set up the stakeout. We’re only going to get one shot. Either we get Jones, or I have to pull Vega and put him in protective custody because Jones will know who ratted him out.”

“Is that why you were at Jones’s house last night?”

“Not exactly.”

“Exactly what then?”

Sonia sat down again and rubbed the back of her neck. Dean resisted the urge to massage her shoulders. She was uncomfortable and Dean wanted to make her feel better. He knew how it felt to have a case grab you and tighten its grip until every muscle in your body was pulled taut. Sonia looked like the weight of the world rested on her pretty shoulders.

“Last week I had an untraceable email about a boy who had been held captive at Jones’s house and escaped. I was given the general area where he’d be, and after searching for a couple hours with my brother, a Sac P.D. cop, we found him. Andres Zamora. I thought Vega had given me the tip. Andres speaks little English, but I’m fluent in Spanish. The kid is ten. He was abducted from Argentina two weeks ago, along with his thirteen-year-old sister, Maya. Their mother and older brother were murdered when they tried to stop the abduction.”

“Jones?”

“No. I showed Andres his picture and Andres had never seen him before.”

“Then how did he end up at Jones’s house? How did he know it was Jones’s house?”

“He didn’t. My anonymous informant did. I asked Vega about it when I could set up a call the day after, but he claimed he didn’t know what I was talking about-he knew the kid had escaped, but said he hadn’t sent the message. I didn’t believe him. No one else on Jones’s staff would have turned and known to call me . Anyway, Maya had been separated from her brother after two or three days, probably before they hit the American border. She was taken on another truck, and Andres was taken by boat. He remembers being crammed into a hold with dozens of other boys from eight to sixteen years of age, but doesn’t remember how long. Days. They gave him fresh water and one small meal daily. He thinks there were four meals. They were not allowed on deck. At one point, the boat was boarded-probably by the Coast Guard, based on what he heard-and their captors threatened that if any of the boys made a sound they would all be killed.

“After that, Andres found a hatch off the hold and hid inside-mostly because it gave him a little more room to move around. When the boat docked and no one came for him, he realized he couldn’t get out. A day later he was discovered and brought to Jones’s house. I’ve shown Andres pictures of Vega and everyone else on Jones’s staff, but he didn’t recognize anyone.

“Until this morning.”

Sonia opened a file and took out a photograph of a forty-something man with short-cropped dark hair graying on the sides. He looked younger than Dean remembered, but just as hard.

“Jones’s driver,” Dean said.

“His name is Charlie Cammarata. He’s a former Immigration agent.”

“Former?”

Sonia’s eyes glistened, but when she blinked the pain was gone. She was all business. “Yes. He was my training agent. He went rogue. I turned him in, testified against him, and he was fired and stripped of all commendations and his pension. He disappeared-though I’ve heard from him a few times. He likes to feed me information, and frankly, it’s been damn good information. But …”

“But what?”

“Nothing.”

“Sonia.”

Dean waited until she looked at him, then continued. “But what?”

“I wish he would leave me alone. I don’t want his help and I don’t want to talk to him. Yet the one time I could use good intel, he decides to play undercover spy and go deep into Jones’s operation without giving me a heads-up. I was hoping he was working for you.”

“He’s not.”

“I didn’t think so. You and he wouldn’t get along.”

“You’re right, I don’t think we would.” Dean didn’t like what Sonia wasn’t saying. He had a feeling there was far more to this story than she’d told him. But instead of pushing her, he asked, “He called you about Andres?”

“Yes. And when I talked to Andres today, I found out that Charlie Cammarata intentionally let Andres go. It was no accident. He probably knew what was going to happen to the boy, and Charlie wouldn’t be able to let him die. Not a child.”

Not a child? Did that mean he’d let an adult die to protect his cover? Dean wanted to ask, but didn’t.

Sonia continued. “I need to get to Charlie. I have to talk to him and find out what he’s doing, but I have no way to approach him without setting off warning bells with Jones. I don’t want Charlie dead, I just want to cut him out. If I go in and arrest him, Jones may think we’re getting too close and cancel whatever is going down in the next couple of days. I’m hoping you can help me.”

“You want me to slip him a note or something?”

She shrugged. “Or something.” Her intention was clear.

Dean nodded. “I can do that.”

Sonia continued. “We have to be extremely careful how we handle this. If we push Jones, he could cancel or divert the suspected shipment and we lose the victims. They’ll be sent underground so fast that even if Jones told us everything he knew, we’d never be able to find them. I have to have solid confirmation as to their location before we arrest Jones.”

“I understand,” Dean said.

Sonia glanced at her phone and frowned. “Hello?”

As Dean watched, Sonia’s face paled, and her bottom lip quivered, then her jaw tightened and she stood up, moving toward the door. “I’ll on my way.”

She snapped her phone shut. “Someone tried to kill Ann tonight and stabbed my brother. I have to go.”

“I’ll drive you.”

“No-”

“You’re shaking.”

“I am not.” She stared at her hands as if she couldn’t believe they had betrayed her fear.

Dean took both her hands and squeezed. They were icy cold and he rubbed them between his palms. “If it were my brother, I’d let you drive.”

“Thank you.”

Sonia could scarcely breathe until she saw Riley.

It took pulling her badge and pitching a fit before a nurse let her look through the window of the surgery where Riley’s leg was being stitched. A bag of blood dripped into his arm. “Why the blood?” she demanded.