Allison Brennan - Fatal Secrets

“I’ll be right there,” Dean said. To Sonia he said, “Do you want to interview Christopoulis with me?”

“Who?” Charlie interrupted.

“I don’t believe this is your business,” Dean said coolly.

“He said ‘her.’ There’s only one female Christopoulis. The queen bitch, Victoria.”

“You know her?” Sonia said.

“In my other identity as Chuck Angelo. Let me do this.”

“Hell no,” Dean said.

“I can bluff her. I know some of her dirty secrets-Jones shared them after I met her.” Charlie’s eyes widened in excitement and for a split second, Sonia saw the old Charlie, the younger, idealistic Charlie who had once been a good agent and a valuable mentor. “I’ll tell her Jones was turning state’s evidence. It’ll freak her out. She’ll turn. I promise, if you let me do it, she’ll turn.”

Sonia nodded to Dean and motioned to leave the room. She walked out with him and closed the door.

“I think he’s right. If she knows where they are, this will save us a lot of time. Let him go with you.”

“It’ll open us up in court-”

“Dean, you don’t even have to say who he is. It’s a bluff. She’ll think what we want her to think without either of you saying a word. He can lie. Hell, he can tell her we faked Jones’s death and he’s in witness protection as we speak. The only problem with that is if she was part of it.”

“I see your point.” Dean ran his thumbs down her face, across her lips, dropped his hand. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m good.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t have to.”

Dean didn’t want to do this, but he understood the strategy and he could see it working. He rubbed the back of Sonia’s neck as they returned to the conference room. Cammarata was watching. “Sam, find out where the assistant U.S. attorney is-she’s someplace around here-and ask her to observe. Cammarata, you’re with me.”

Dean knew the interview would be a success from the minute they walked into the room. Victoria Christopoulis’s rigid back was to them and Dean walked around the table and introduced himself. “Ms. Christo poulis, I’m Assistant Director Dean Hooper with the FBI, and I think you’ve already met Charlie Cammarata-though you knew him as Chuck Angelo.”

Cammarata walked around and sat down across from the regal Greek matriarch of the Christopoulis clan. He leaned back and grinned, looking younger and confident while he pretended to be laid back. “Vicky! Good to see you again. I had a feeling I’d be seeing you in prison one of these days.”

The shock on the woman’s face was priceless. The shock was followed by disbelief. “I–I don’t understand. I don’t know why I’m here.” She gained confidence as she spoke. “I’ve been harassed by your government all day.”

“I’ll apologize for my partner, Agent Callahan,” Dean said. “He can be a bit tenacious.”

Victoria’s eyes kept going back to Cammarata. “I don’t understand what you’re doing here.”

“You don’t? You’re smarter than that, Vicky.”

“Victoria,” she snapped.

“Right. Tori. Got it. Well, I didn’t exactly advertise it, but I was working undercover. Xavier was a very naughty businessman. You heard about the FBI raid the other day.”

She stared at him with disbelief bordering on hatred. “You? You bastard.”

“So I’ve heard.” He glanced at Dean. Dean had never seen such calculation and cold strategy in anyone before.

“Well, see, after that Xavier realized he was dead meat. My man Dean, here-same guy who took down two mob families in Chicago and our own local homegrown boy Thomas Daniels-killed him, too, didn’t you, Dean? — well, Dean had Xavier hook, line, and sinker. Xavier knew it and was willing to deal.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“He sat right where you are. I know. I drove him here.”

Victoria was doing her best to keep a stiff upper lip, but Dean saw her composure waver. Cammarata said, “I helped negotiate terms for his testimony against your son, the principals of Rio Diablo, Weber Trucking, and-”

He pulled out the photograph and pointed to the picture of Devereaux in the middle. “And him.”

Victoria paled. “Noel-”

Dean didn’t physically react to the new name. Cammarata hadn’t clued him in on this part of his strategy. He was a loose cannon.

“Noel baby is going down.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“Me? No, I don’t think so. Thing is, Tori,” Cammarata said, “Jones got himself popped. So did Greg, very sad.” Cammarata sounded like he was dancing on their graves. Dean shifted in his seat. “So, babe, let me lay it out to you. My man Jones squealed. Gave us some good faith info for us to verify, but wouldn’t take our protection. We thought he might run, so we confiscated his plane, froze his accounts, the whole nine yards. Hoop here was tracking him, lost him near the river, and bang. He’s dead.”

Dean interjected before Cammarata went too far. “We have Jones’s statement, and it will hold up in court at least to the extent that I can get a warrant to verify everything he said, such as Omega’s latest shipment from Hong Kong.”

Victoria stared at him and didn’t say anything. She played with her diamond and platinum watch with shaking hands.

Cammarata leaned forward. “Xavier told us about your penchant for young boys. Fourteen, fifteen? Georgie ran all the way to America to get away from you, but you followed him. Of course, he’s too old for you to be screwing anymore, but there was that special order of yours.”

Victoria looked down, lip quivering, and Cammarata slammed his hand on the table. “Look at me, bitch!”

She jumped, stared at him, eyes wide. “You think I don’t know?” he said. “He was thirteen and your son brought him up from Chile, along with a shipment of slave labor into Mexico. Then he asked Xavier to fly down and retrieve him for you. You had him for two weeks, locked in a warehouse. When you had enough, you flew home. Only, you didn’t tell anybody to fetch him, did you? Did you, you fucking bitch!”

Dean straightened. “That’s enough,” he said firmly.

Victoria said in a small voice, “I want immunity.”

“No,” Cammarata said. “You need to pay for the lives you destroyed and the people you killed.”

“I’ve never killed anyone!” She sobbed, tears leaking, making her excessive makeup run in rivulets down her face.

“Leaving a minor to die of dehydration? That’s murder in my book, babe.”

“Immunity and protection. You don’t know Noel Marchand.”

“Tell us,” Dean said.

“I want a deal on the table. I want my attorney and a deal and then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Fuck, she’d asked for her attorney.

“Let’s go, Cammarata.”

“No.”

“Now.”

“There will be no deal. We have you dead to rights … unless you give us something we can verify. Something that might help. Where are the girls?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned her head. She was visibly shaking, but held her chin high.

Cammarata made a move to backhand her and Dean grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind him. He pushed him out the door and slammed it shut.

“I don’t care who she is or what she did, you will not hit a suspect in my interview.”

Cammarata was red-faced. “That kid’s not the half of it.”

“Callahan,” Dean said without taking his eyes off Cammarata. “Watch him.”

The assistant U.S. attorney was frowning. “She asked for her lawyer, Hooper.”

“I know.”

He went back in.

Victoria was crying, her body shaking violently. “He’ll kill me. He killed Xavier, he killed Gregory. He’ll kill me. You have to protect me.” She implored him. “Please. I’m not scared of dying. But you don’t know what he does to people.”