Allison Brennan - Fatal Secrets

Even with a code-breaking program and a top-notch analyst, the chance information about Ashley Fox would be in the journal that began in January of this year, while Ashley was abducted a year ago last April, was slim.

But for certain the key information about the China dolls being sold in the foothills to the unknown buyer was here. Charlie would give Sonia the journal-on the condition that she promise to find Ashley Fox.

The key players involved with the Xavier Jones investigation assembled in the conference room crowded with all Dean’s computers and files. In addition to Dean and Sonia, ICE agent Trace Anderson and analyst Maria Sanchez were there; FBI agent Sam Callahan and two analysts who’d been assigned to Dean full-time; and sheriff’s deputy Brian Aze vedo brought detective Melanie Montgomery, who’d been assigned the Vega double homicide and, because of the connection between Jones and Vega, the riverfront double homicide as well. Quantico’s top profiler, Dr. Hans Vigo, was on speakerphone. Dean introduced everyone who didn’t already know one another, gave a brief rundown on Dr. Vigo’s credentials, and started the task force debriefing.

It was after hours, and while the atmosphere was charged with energy and hopes that they were making progress on the case-or cases, as it were-the men loosened their ties, drank coffee, water, or soda and munched on snacks Sam had brought in.

“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” Dean said. “As you now know, ICE and the FBI formed this Xavier Jones task force two days ago when we learned that we were running parallel investigations. However, in light of the primary suspect’s murder last night, our purpose has changed. It’s important that we lay out everything we know and reexamine it together. There’s an urgency we didn’t have until now. An unknown number of Chinese women, likely minors, are being brought in illegally from Hong Kong and are being sold Saturday night into illegal prostitution or slave labor. We have an unconfirmed day and time, but no location. They may already be here in the Sacramento area, or still en route. Agent Knight will summarize what we know so far.”

Dean nodded at Sonia, who’d been sitting casually on the corner of the table by the door. She was drinking coffee but not eating, and Dean vowed to get some food into her before she left for the night. Though she was holding up well, Sonia still blamed herself for the Vegas’ murders.

Sonia stood and walked over to one of the whiteboards where earlier she had written a general time line. “Omega Shipping, affiliated with Xavier Jones, has long been suspected of transporting illegal immigrants, not only to the U.S., but to Canada and other countries in the Western hemisphere. No country is free of trafficking. Women, girls, and boys are enticed or kidnapped for illegal prostitution, child soldiers, and slave labor. Over eight hundred thousand individuals a year are trafficked across international borders, and that doesn’t include those captive in their own countries, such as the child soldiers in Africa.

“My office has been looking at Xavier Jones for a couple years, but we never had enough evidence for a warrant. We had some suspicious travel, his name had come up in other, unconnected investigations, and his affiliation with Omega Shipping, who we had been investigating on another trafficking matter, had us on the edge. It took an informant to give us the in we needed to finally make strides in building a case against him.” Sonia drained her coffee, and Dean handed her a water bottle. She nodded her thanks, sipped, and continued.

“Our informant was one of Jones’s top lieutenants, and as everyone here knows, when you have a criminal like Jones in a major racketeering case, it’s usually the inside man who gives us what we need to build a case for the U.S. attorney. My informant confirmed what we already knew, and provided us with some additional but outdated intel regarding facilities used for temporary storage of their prisoners. Unfortunately it was his word alone: he had no hard evidence to give us Jones. He wanted immunity and witness protection. We agreed, provided he obtained the physical evidence we needed to prosecute.”

Sonia sighed almost inaudibly; if Dean hadn’t been standing right beside her, he wouldn’t have noticed the defeated heave in her chest. She said, “Greg Vega, my informant, and his pregnant wife were murdered early this morning. Any evidence he may have collected for us is gone, though I doubt he had anything significant. He wanted out, and would have given me the moon if he could have. We were both counting on the shipment of the China dolls-what we sometimes call Chinese women sold or lured into forced prostitution-to give us what we wanted. I wanted Jones; Greg Vega wanted freedom.”

Deputy Azevedo spoke up. “Vega was tortured and left to die with a knife in his gut. The coroner estimated it took him twelve to fifteen minutes to bleed out; he was probably conscious for half that time. Conscious and looking at his dead wife who had been shot execution style while tied to a kitchen chair.”

Grimness set in among the assembled group. Dean spoke. “Xavier Jones was murdered prior to the Vegas. Though we’re waiting for the crime scene and ballistics reports, it’s clear the four homicides are connected. Theories as to why are welcome, but Agent Knight and I believe that there’s some jockeying for power within the Jones organization, or that one of his competitors saw a weakness and exploited it.” Dean paused. He had been uncomfortable with his realization all day, and hadn’t spoken of it. He would probably never know if his actions were the catalyst that led to this chain of violence. “Our raid early Wednesday morning may have been the signal that now was the time to make a move on Jones’s territory.”

Sonia said, “The problem remains that, if our intelligence is accurate, we have young women in jeopardy We don’t know where they are at this precise time, but we know they’ll be in the greater Sacramento area late Saturday night.” She pointed to her time line. “Twenty days ago, a small tanker owned by Omega left Hong Kong. ICE agents on site informed us that the ship was likely to have a minimum of thirty females between the ages of fourteen and seventeen who had been kidnapped from an illegal convent. These girls had been orphaned or abandoned as infants and raised to maturity by an underground church. They were being transported to a safe haven when the girls were abducted. We believe they are to be integrated into the illegal sex trade here in the United States, or that they’ll be traded to other Western countries.”

“Why Sacramento?” Sam Callahan asked. “We’s inland. Wouldn’t it be easier to do this in a major port, or offshore, or in Mexico?”

“Yes and no. First, we have a vigorous watch in all ports in California, and because Omega is flagged, we search more of their ships. Second, Mexico is not the safest place to engage in trades if the destination country is elsewhere. There’s border patrol, for one.” Sonia paused. “However, we have unconfirmed intelligence that once the victims hit American soil, they are transported by air. Small aircraft, including helicopters, which have virtual autonomy to travel within our borders.”

“But Sacramento isn’t a major port,” Sam added.

“No, but Stockton is. We don’t think the women are being unloaded in Stockton. Based on another witness, we believe the victims are transferred at night from the main ship to smaller boats, which then traverse the delta to private docks where the women are moved to trucks or small aircraft.” Sonia pointed to the whiteboard. “Six days ago we had word that the ship with the girls would be stopping in Honolulu. They never came. We don’t know why, we don’t know if they sank, we don’t know if they went another route. Or they could have moved them in the middle of the ocean to another ship. But based on the business-as-usual tone of Jones’s people and another informant, the girls are still expected in Sacramento on Saturday.” She paused. “They may already be here. We don’t know.”