We lock eyes. “I’ve got no one to tell.”
“I don’t know what happened in that interrogation room. It was just Dorsey and Morales. Video feed was switched off.”
“Intentionally?”
“Yes. Dorsey switched it off himself. He looked me in the eye when he did it. Like he was daring me to say something.”
“Did you?”
“Of course not. He’s the fucking chief of D’s. What am I supposed to say: ‘Hey, Chief, that’s not proper protocol’?”
“Did Morales have counsel?”
“No. Either he never asked, or if he did, Dorsey ignored him. All I know is, they were in there for less than an hour. And when they walked out, Dorsey had a signed confession from Morales stating that he killed both girls.”
“Jesus. You think he roughed him up?”
“Worse. I think he paid him off.”
I sit up, alert. “You think Morales is taking the fall on purpose?”
“Less than an hour, Nell. It takes me more than that to just write up a fucking confession. This was typed up, signed, sealed, and delivered. I think the whole thing was prearranged.”
“Why the whole showdown at the farm, then? Morales was armed. Someone could’ve gotten hurt.”
“Theatrics. Some woman happened to be there to videotape it? Come on, Nell. Think about it.” He crosses his arms, shoots me a look.
I slump back in my chair. “Oh my God. I almost shot him, you know. I could have killed Morales.”
“If you had, even better. Problem solved.”
“But why? Why would Morales agree to take the rap for two murders? He’ll either get deported or he’ll spend the rest of his life rotting in jail.”
“I don’t know. Either someone paid him a ton of money, or else he made sure his family gets citizenship. Those are the only two things I could think of.”
“Come on. Dorsey’s powerful, but not that powerful. And he’s not rich, either.”
“He’s not. But the people he’s covering for are.” Lee gives me a look. “I know you know about Giovanni Calabrese and his arrangement with certain members of the department. Calabrese has got sway. And his clients are incredibly rich, very powerful, and definitely motivated to make sure the whole operation doesn’t get exposed.”
I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t realize you knew that cops were on Calabrese’s payroll.”
“I’ve known for a while.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I had to decide whether or not I trusted you first.”
“You kept pointing the finger at Morales. Why?”
“Because I think he did it. Or at least, I think he helped. But I’ve also been playing along with what Dorsey wanted me to do and say. It’s the only way I could stay inside the department. And that’s always been my goal. To investigate the department.”
“Wait. Are you telling me that you’ve been running an investigation into the SCPD this whole time?”
Lee gives me a small smile. He nods. “I’m one of you,” he says. “For better or for worse.”
“One of who?”
Lee chuckles. “I’m a Fed. Have been for two years now. I’m DEA. I’m part of a joint task force that the Bureau had started to investigate the narcotics operation Dorsey and his guys have been running. I’m their man in Havana, so to speak. Their man in Yaphank.”
“Come on!” I let out a sharp laugh. Lee looks wounded. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I just—I seriously can’t believe it.”
“Believe what? That I’m a federal agent and not some local cop?” Lee frowns.
“No, I don’t mean it like that. I just—look, I’m BAU. It’s my fucking job to profile people. I always thought you seemed like a bit of a misfit in homicide. Too, I don’t know, nerdy? Intellectual?”
“Thanks so much.”
“But I never in a million years would have figured you for the mole.”
“I prefer the term ‘undercover.’”
“You know what I mean. Why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“Because Dorsey’s your fucking godfather! Think about it, Nell. I was hoping you’d be on my team here, but I couldn’t be sure. It never occurred to me things would escalate this quickly. And you kind of threw me for a loop when you started suspecting your own dad. That wasn’t a possibility I’d even considered.”
“So what was Dad’s role in Calabrese’s organization? Be honest.”
Lee shakes his head. “That was the best break I’ve had. Total coincidence. I knew what was going on with Dorsey and DaSilva. Narcotics, prostitution, they had their hands in everything. Your dad wanted none of it, and Dorsey respected that. They basically left each other alone.
“Last summer, your dad connected with Maria Cruz. She was one of Calabrese’s girls. She’s young, maybe nineteen years old. I never understood what their relationship was. I didn’t want to ask, and he never brought her up. I only knew about her because I saw them together once and I got curious. Your father seemed pretty devoted to her. He wanted to get her out of that life. He rented her that apartment, got her to enroll in community college. And then he really went on the warpath.”
“Meaning what?”
“It was pretty ingenious, really. At first, I thought he was having some kind of a breakdown. He started going out a lot, making a big show of hanging with the boys. Always up to party. And he got into gambling. Big-time.”
“That does sound like a breakdown.”
“It wasn’t. It was all a show. I started watching him pretty closely. He wasn’t drinking at all. He’d order one drink, swirl it around, and then switch to soda. He gambled, but never a lot, and never in a way where he was out of control. He did all that so that he could get in with Dorsey and that crew. Eventually, he told Dorsey he’d racked up a bunch of gambling debts. He was desperate for money. And so Dorsey brought him into the fold.”
“Did Dad tell you this?”
“No. I was just this annoying newbie who managed to get myself assigned to him. But I was watching him. And I figured out what he was doing.”
“What was he doing?”
“He was building a case. My guess is he was recording conversations, taking photos, collecting evidence. And he was watching over the girls. Making sure nothing happened to them. He got a few of them to talk. One of them was Ria. When she was murdered, he totally flipped out. I guess he felt responsible. He became obsessed with solving her murder.”
“Oh my God.” I slap my hand to my forehead. “Everything makes sense now. That’s why he was following Adriana.”
“Right. He knew Morales wasn’t behind it. He figured Morales might have disposed of the body, but he was just helping the real killer out. He thought it was Dorsey, or Calabrese, or one of the clients. But he couldn’t prove it. So he kept at it. And then Adriana went missing, and two weeks later, he was dead.”
“That’s why you wanted to get into his office.”
“I still do.”
“There’s nothing there. He must have cleaned it out before he died.”
“Still might be worth letting me have a look.”
I stand up. “Fine. But I’m going to open the scotch, if that’s all right with you.”
“Whatever it takes.”
“Hey.” I grab him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Is your mom really sick? I thought you moved back here to be near her.”
Lee flushes. “She is. That’s true. But to be honest with you, it’s a damn good cover. I was hired by DEA straight out of law school. One of my professors recruited me. Then this came up and we all saw it as a good way to get someone inside the department. Dorsey’s one of the biggest distributors of narcotics and opioids in New York State. Eighty percent of the shit that’s out there on the market is there because he either got paid off by someone
or because he’s selling it himself. He’s a bad guy, Nell. And his team is no better than a cartel.”
I nod slowly. “And what about me? Did you just want to get into Dad’s office?”
“As opposed to what? Get into your pants?”
“No!” I snap, before realizing he’s joking. “Fuck you.”
“No, listen. I was hoping you’d be a partner. I’ve been here for two fucking years, Flynn. It’s been pretty dismal. Dorsey and his cohort are a tight-knit bunch. I thought I’d be able to charm my way in, but it wasn’t so easy.”
I can’t help it, I laugh. “Because you’re so suave?”
“Well, yeah. And I’m local. I thought they’d see me as one of their own.”
“But they didn’t.”
“It takes a while to gain Dorsey’s trust. I started realizing that my best shot was to befriend someone he was close to. I thought I had an in when I got paired up with your dad. But then he went and died on me. So yeah, I was pretty lonely until you showed up.”
“They killed him, Lee. I know it. Who else would cut his brakes?”
“Well, to be fair, your dad was kind of an asshole. I imagine he accumulated more than a few enemies over time.”
“Please be serious.”
Lee stands up. “My money’s on either Dorsey or Calabrese. Come on. Show me the office. We’re going to nail their asses to the wall.”
23.
I told you. There’s nothing in here.”
Lee walks another loop around Dad’s office. We’ve been in here for the better part of an hour and found nothing of use.
“What about his apartment in Riverhead?” Lee asks, for the second time.
“We can look again. But I didn’t find anything. Anyway, I don’t think he would have stored evidence there. It would’ve put Maria at risk.”
Lee shakes his head, frustrated. “I fucked up. I should’ve been straight with him. We could have worked together.”
“Don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself.”
“I tried a couple of times. To tip my hand a little. Show him that we were on the same side. But he just wasn’t having it.”
“Dad didn’t play all that well with others.”
Lee sighs. “I know. But I could’ve just come clean with him.”
“That would have been a huge risk. If he told Dorsey, you’d have blown two years of undercover work and maybe gotten yourself killed in the process.”
“I know.”
We’re both quiet for a minute.
“We have Dad’s bank statement from Cayman International. That’s enough to subpoena Calabrese’s financial records. And I have a meeting set with him tomorrow. Luz Molina is going to bring me there.”
“That’s way too risky. For you and for Luz.”
I swallow hard. I know he’s right, but I’m desperate. “I have Dorsey basically spilling his guts to me, not just about the forced confessions, but about taking money from Calabrese. That alone is enough to arrest them both.”
“But is it enough for a jury?”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Maybe not.”
“What about Luz? If she can testify . . .”
“She’s not going to stand up as a witness. She’s a kid. And she’s undocumented. A defense attorney will tear her apart on the stand.”
“Dorsey is such a prick.” Lee scowls. “Imagine preying on a girl like that.”
“We need to get her out of here before we start arresting anyone. I promised her I’d get her into protective custody.”
“And we will. Look, we have a narrow window here. Maybe twenty-four hours, and that’s it. Right about now, Dorsey is probably seriously regretting his little heart-to-heart with you.”
“I know. I’ve thought that.”
“Let’s call Sarah Patel. And Lightman. We’ll get a team mobilized. Tomorrow we go in and seize everything at SCPD and GC Limo.”
“We still don’t know who killed those girls.”
“We could lean on Morales. Or”—Lee snaps his fingers—“we trace his bank accounts. See who paid him off.”
“We’re leaving a lot to chance. I don’t like it. We only have one shot to raid the offices. We better be damn sure we have enough evidence against these guys before we do.”
Lee walks over to the map. He leans in, studying it. “Was this always here?”
I step next to him, our shoulders touching. “No. I mean, it wasn’t here when I was a kid. Why?”
Lee reaches up and rips it off the wall.
“What the f—” I stop midsentence.
Behind the map, carved out from the wall, is a safe.
“Any chance you know the combination?” Lee says, his voice a near whisper.
“I have a guess,” I say. I move forward and press in my mother’s birthday, the same combination of numbers that opened his file cabinet. There is a second of silence, followed by a whirring sound. I reach for the handle and pull the safe open.
“Holy shit,” we both say at the same time.
Stacked inside the safe are a laptop, a notebook, files, photographs, and a recording device.
“Let’s call Sarah now,” Lee says. “We need to get a team on this. Tonight.”
24.
I have to hand it to you, Flynn. You somehow managed to stumble into one of the largest raids in Bureau history despite being out on administrative leave.”
Lightman is on speakerphone from midair. He and a team of agents from BAU are en route from DC, aboard a private jet that is scheduled to touch down within the hour. We’ve been up all night, sorting through the photographs, audiotapes, and other evidence my father had accumulated against Dorsey, DaSilva, Anastas, and various other members of the SCPD, as well as Giovanni Calabrese and a handful of associates who kept his prostitution business up and running. There are flash drives filled with pictures of Meachem’s parties, which will end the careers and marriages of men around the globe. Sarah is combing through evidence down in Miami, too. We have stacks of financial documents to examine. Even with a team assembled, this may take days, even weeks. But for now, it’s enough to arrest half of the detectives in Suffolk County and lock Giovanni Calabrese behind bars for good. I’ve also negotiated a protective custody arrangement for Luz and her brother, Miguel. After Lee and I oversee the raids this morning, I will take her statement and then get them on a private plane at Gabreski Airport in Westhampton. I will, in all likelihood, never see her again. The thought is a bittersweet one. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve come to care about her. I want to care for her. No one else ever has.
“I told you I’m not going to lie on a couch and talk about my childhood,” I say to Lightman. He chuckles. He’s still mad at me, I can tell. But for now, he’s going to let it slide. This case is too big for him to carp at me about protocols.
“Don’t think you get to bypass Maloney,” he says. “Your leave is still in effect.”
“Come on,” Lee interjects. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful, but Nell’s managed to pull together a case against one of the most corrupt police forces in history. She’s done in a week what I couldn’t do in two years.”
“Son, that says more about you than it does about her,” Lightman says.
Lee turns crimson. I can’t help it: I burst out laughing.
“Oh, shut up,” Lee mutters, but he’s grinning, too.
“How long do we have to wait?” I ask. I stand up and walk over to the window. It’s morning, technically, but it’s still dark outside. I haven’t slept or eaten, but I feel shot through with nervous energy. “We’ve started our descent. We’ll be on the ground soon. By eight a.m., we will be at both locations.”
I want to move now. Every car that passes on Dune Road sends a charge down my spine; every sound from the marsh outside sends my hand straight to my firearm. We have three hours to go: a
n eternity. Still, I know we’re lucky to have such a large team mobilizing so quickly. And for the moment, anyway, Lightman is treating me like I’m back on the team. If everything goes smoothly today, he’ll have no choice but to reinstate me. Hell, he should probably give me a fucking promotion.
Sarah dials in. “You guys hanging in there?” she asks. I can hear the fatigue in her voice.
“Hell, yeah.” Lee rubs his hands together. “I’ve been waiting for this for two years.”
“You just needed Nell to come in and get the job done.”
Lee laughs. “Sam, if you don’t need her at the BAU, we sure could use an extra set of hands over at DEA.”
“Or down here,” Sarah adds. “Human Trafficking Task Force could be your calling, Nell.”
“After today, I think I’m going to put in for vacation.”
“Okay. We’re starting our descent into Gabreski,” Lightman announces. “I gotta turn this off. One of you want to drive over here and get us up to speed?”
“I’ll go,” Lee says. He turns to me. His hand finds its way to my arm. He gives me a soft smile and his fingers tighten around me. I feel my heart contract just a little bit. “You going to be all right?”
“I’ll be fine. You go. Call me when we’re ready to roll.”
“Hey, Nell?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I ever called you kid.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I’ll come up with something better. Deal?”
“Deal.”
He winks. I turn away, unwilling to let him see me blush.
* * *
—
LEE WALKS OUT of the office. A few seconds later, the front door opens and shuts. The house falls silent. I’ve just started to move again when a deafening boom knocks me flat on my back.
The window of the office shatters. A rush of cold air fills the room, along with the acrid smell of smoke. A piece of paper floats by.
It takes me a few seconds to stand up. My head is whirring with sound and light. My knees give as I do, nearly folding beneath me. I look down at my hands. A shard of glass has embedded itself in my palm. Wincing, I pull it out and wipe the blood down the front of my pants.
Girls Like Us Page 20
