Special Agent Ed Schaefer!
Cosimo had never met the FBI agent, but his reputation was well known in organized crime circles. Schaefer had brought down the Beniti Family. Don Beniti had been personally cuffed by Schaefer. The photo of Beniti being led from his luxurious estate into a waiting government vehicle was plastered all over the newspapers. The look on Schaefer’s face was that of a man who had just caught the biggest fish in the sea.
Cosimo had quietly rejoiced at the sight of Beniti looking shocked and confused. Beniti never thought something like this would ever happen to him. He was careful in his dealings, but above all, he was feared. He did not hesitate to kill those who showed a hint of disloyalty. Even their families were not safe.
But the betrayal had not come from anyone who worked for Beniti. The betrayal had come from someone Beniti never guessed would snitch on him.
Everything would have gone accordingly, but the target had made serious errors in his execution of a contract of his own. Those errors were exploited by FBI Agent Schaefer. If
Cosimo had been the hired gun, he would have completed the contract without a hitch, and Beniti would still be free to run his now-defunct empire.
Beniti was not the only one who was betrayed years before. Cosimo also felt he was betrayed. He had earned his reputation after years of completing contracts to his clients’ specifications. If a client wanted someone to disappear, that person vanished as if into thin air. If a client wanted to make an example of someone, their fates sent messages loud and clear to the intended recipients. No job was too big or small for Cosimo. He took pride in his work.
He believed there was another reason Beniti had not hired him. Cosimo’s services did not come cheap, and his fee was nonnegotiable. If you wanted him for a job, you better have the money to see it through, and pay all the bucks up front. Cosimo did not do half up front and half later.
There used to be a code among criminals, but in his experience, the code was only valued by the older generation. The newer generation only cared about money, power, and notoriety. They did not appreciate the service Cosimo provided. They would renege on their agreement if they saw fit. If that happened, Cosimo would have to take the drastic step to teach them a lesson. It was messy, and the blowback was always harsh, but Cosimo was a professional hit man. You did not mess with a man who lived and died by a gun.
Cosimo watched as Agent Schaefer handed one of the detectives his business card. He then got in his black sedan and drove off.
Cosimo knew that if Agent Schaefer was in town, the target was not far behind.
He decided to follow the agent.
SEVENTY-NINE
Jennifer Paulsingh lived on the top floor of a row house. Callaway got her name from Glenn Maker.
According to Maker, Jennifer was best friends with Linda Eustace. Callaway thought about calling Elle to give her an update, but he again vetoed the idea.
He did not like having someone tag along during his investigations. He never knew where his search would lead him. He had found himself in dangerous situations before, but somehow, he always found a way out.
Elle would only slow him down. In fact, he had accomplished quite a bit without her. Obviously, when it came time to fill her in on what he had found, he had to tell her everything. She had every right to know what was going on in his investigation.
At the moment, though, he was enjoying the freedom to move about without being encumbered.
He knocked on the door. It opened an inch. A bolt chain lock prevented it from opening further. A face appeared between the opening, and it took Callaway a moment to realize it was the same woman he had seen posing with Linda in a photograph they had found in Linda’s landlady’s garage.
“Can I help you?” she said.
“Are you Jennifer?” he asked.
“Who are you?” she replied.
For a second, Callaway thought she would slam the door shut. He quickly pulled out his business card and said, “I’m looking for Linda. I was told she was your friend.”
She stuck her hand out and snatched the card from him. “You’re really a private investigator?” she asked, staring at the card.
Why are people always surprised to find out that we exist? he thought.
“Yes, I am. Can I ask you a few questions?”
“Why are you looking for her?” she demanded.
“Someone hired me to find her.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Who?”
Callaway was about to tell her it was Elle, but he stopped. Linda did not want anyone in Milton to know of her previous life. He doubted Jennifer knew who Linda really was or that she had a sister. Back at the landlady’s garage, they had found no photos of Elle in Linda’s personal items. Linda Eustace was an identity Katie Pearson had created to live a life she may not have been proud of. Most escorts did not want their families to find out the profession they were involved in.
Until they found Katie, Callaway was not going to destroy the alternate life she had worked so hard to create for herself.
“Her family has not heard back from her in months,” he said, trying not to be too specific. “They are worried about her.”
Jennifer’s features relaxed. She unlocked the bolt chain and came out into the hallway. She had dark curly hair, hazel eyes, and a brown complexion. She was wearing a sweatshirt, sweatpants, and no socks.
She crossed her arms and said, “It took them long enough to send you to find her.”
Callaway detected the bitterness in Jennifer’s words.
He could not tell her how Katie’s lies had prevented Elle from searching for her sooner.
“Do you know where Linda is?” he asked.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t have filed a missing persons report with the police.”
“You did?” he asked, surprised.
“Of course I did. She was my best friend.”
Callaway paused and then got to the point. “You introduced Linda to the escort business, is that correct?”
Jennifer looked away. “It was a mistake,” she said, her voice full of shame, “but Linda needed the money. I did too. That’s how I got into it in the first place. It was only supposed to have been a few times. I didn’t like doing it, so I quit. But Linda liked the money. She was able to afford things she didn’t have before.”
“I saw the photos from all the trips she took,” Callaway said. “She liked to share them on social media.”
Jennifer shook her head. “I didn’t agree with what she was doing. The money from escorting was supposed to pay for her schooling. She wanted to become a fashion designer, you know?”
“I do,” he said.
“I did it to pay for my paralegal certificate,” she said. “I never finished it, but I ended up getting a job doing data entry for an insurance company. The money isn’t great compared to what I made as an escort, but at least it’s a steady and stable job.”
“When I spoke to Glenn Maker, he alluded to the fact that the girls were protected. What did he mean by that?” Callaway asked.
“Before agreeing to take on a client, we met them at a specific location.”
“Specific location?”
She nodded. “Glenn’s not really a pimp. He’s more of a programmer. This whole setup was like a business transaction to him. But Carl was the one who watched over us when we met the clients.”
“Carl?” Callaway asked.
“Carl Goodwin. He owns an art gallery where we met the clients. He was protective of us girls. There were many times he would end a meeting if the girls felt uncomfortable or wanted to end the transaction.”
“Do you know where I can find this Carl Goodwin?”
“I’ll give you his address.”
EIGHTY
The building was old and decayed. The white exterior paint had turned yellowish brown. The windows were boarded up with plywood, and the lawn surrounding the property was covered in weeds and tall grass.
When the call came in, Holt
and Fisher rushed over. They drove around to the back of the building. They spotted a police cruiser and parked next to it. A string of yellow police tape was already in place to secure the scene.
A uniformed officer stood before the tape. He was surrounded by three young men. The officer saw the detectives and came over.
To Fisher’s pleasant surprise, the patrolman was Lance McConnell.
“Dispatch notified me about twenty minutes ago,” McConnell said.
“They called it in?” Holt asked, nodding in the direction of the young men.
“They did.”
“Show it to us.”
They followed McConnell through the police tape and across the building’s parking lot. Fisher estimated it had space for around thirty vehicles.
“What was in the building before it was abandoned?” Fisher asked McConnell.
“They used to print labels for products. I think it was owned by two brothers, but after one died, the other sold it. The new owners had no idea about the labeling business. It soon went under. I think they used to employ close to fifty people at one time.”
She was not sure why she had asked him, but she liked hearing his response. What is it about him that is making me blush? she thought.
She quickly shook the thought away. They were here for a reason that did not involve getting googly-eyed over someone she really did not know.
Next to the parking lot was a small lake. The water was black and still.
There was an object by the water’s edge. They walked up and realized the object was shaped like a body. It was covered in several garbage bags secured with nylon ropes. A pale white limb was sticking out from a corner of the bag.
A long piece of wood lay next to the body.
Holt and Fisher quickly pulled on latex gloves and carefully approached the corpse. From his jacket pocket, Holt removed a switchblade and gently cut the bag open.
He grimaced as a strong odor hit his nostrils. Fisher covered her nose with the back of her hand. McConnell took a step back.
The body was a woman with flowing blonde hair, but that was all they could tell about her.
Her cheeks were purple, bruised, and swollen. Her eyes were puffy and shut tight. Her lips were red and cut up.
Whoever she was, she was almost unrecognizable.
EIGHTY-ONE
Callaway entered the restaurant. He spotted Joely behind the counter. She nodded to a booth at the far end.
Elle was sitting at the table with a cup before her. Joely had called Callaway and told him Elle had been waiting for him for close to an hour.
He sat across from her. She sensed him and turned her head toward him. “Lee?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied.
“I went to your office and I thought about waiting for you there, but then I decided to come here.”
“You could have called me,” he said.
“I did not want to do it over the phone”
His back tensed. “Do what?”
“Apologize to you for my abrupt disappearance.”
He relaxed. “That’s okay.”
“Along with a lot of other issues, I also suffer from severe anxiety attacks.” Elle lowered her head. “I haven’t left my apartment since the last time we spoke.”
“Oh,” he said.
“I kept thinking something bad might have happened to Katie, or that I will never see her again. These thoughts paralyzed me, and I worried I would go down a deep, dark hole that I won’t be able to come out of. Fortunately, my doctor prescribed me something that has lifted the cloud off. This was another reason why it took me three months to get the courage to come down to Milton and search for Katie.”
“I appreciate you sharing this with me. I know it must have been difficult for you,” Callaway said.
She nodded. “While I was away, did you find anything on my sister?” she asked.
He was not sure how he could break the news to her, especially after what she had just told him about her condition. “I’ve made some progress,” he slowly replied.
She smiled. “And do you know where she is?”
“Um… I… it’s just that…” he stammered.
Her smile disappeared. “Tell me what you found.”
There’s that determination in her voice again, he thought. He found it reassuring.
“You might not like it,” he warned her.
“I want to know.”
“Katie was working as an escort.”
Her silence spoke volumes as to how shocked she was.
He was not sure how much time had passed when she asked, “Are you certain?”
“Unfortunately, yes,” he replied. “It was how she was supporting her lifestyle in Milton.”
He was met with more silence. She slowly reached for the cup, found it, and moved it toward her lips. She stopped short and said, “Do you think that’s why Katie didn’t want me to come see her?”
“It could very well be,” he said. “She was likely ashamed of what she was doing.”
Elle put the cup down. “When I came to Milton, I never expected I would end up going on this emotional roller coaster. Every time I think I understand my sister, she blindsides me with something else.” She looked away to collect her thoughts. “But this doesn’t change anything,” she said. “I still love my sister. She’s the only family I have left. I want to know where she is.”
“Good,” he said with renewed hope. He worried she might give up her search. He would hate to abandon it without knowing the truth. For the past couple of days, all he had thought about was Katie Pearson and what might have happened to her.
EIGHTY-TWO
The youths who had found the body were Mike, Joe, and Will. The standout aspects of their attire was that Mike wore a hoodie, Joe sported a baseball hat, and Will had a gold chain around his neck. All three were still in high school.
“What were you doing here?” Fisher asked.
Mike shrugged. “We were skateboarding in the parking lot.”
“You skateboard here often?”
Joe nodded. “Yeah. It’s a quiet area. No one bothers us.”
Will jumped in. “It also has stuff we can use for obstacles.”
Fisher had seen a plywood sheet propped up next to a metal garbage bin for use as a skateboard ramp. Wooden crates were placed strategically in order to jump over them. There was a ramp, handrails, and lots of steps for the young men to perform their stunts on. And the empty parking lot allowed them to skateboard freely.
She could see the building’s attraction. The place was private and almost secluded.
It is also a perfect location to dump a body, she thought.
She looked at her partner. Holt was still by the body. He was looking for any clues that would help him identify her. Fisher knew that would not be easy. The woman had been badly disfigured and likely tortured.
She turned to the three youths. “Tell me how you found the body.”
Joe said, “I was doing a flip when I lost grip on my board and it flew out of my hands. It ended up rolling toward the lake.”
Mike said, “I was closer, so I chased it down. When I finally got to it, I saw something floating in the water. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew I hadn’t seen it there before.”
Fisher raised an eyebrow. “When was the last time you were here?”
“We came yesterday.”
“And you didn’t see anything in the lake?”
“I mean…” Mike said, trying to backtrack his comment. “I don’t really pay too much attention to the water…”
Will said, “We usually keep away from the lake. We tried playing ball hockey here a couple of times, and we lost a bunch of balls in the water.”
“What made you pull the victim out of the lake?” she asked.
Joe replied, “We didn’t know what it was at first, but there was something not right about it.”
“Like what?” Fisher asked.
“We saw rope tied around it.�
�
Mike said, “I watch a lot of crime shows on TV, so I had a bad feeling it might be a body.”
“He didn’t want us to touch it,” Joe said, pointing to Mike.
“I wanted to call 9-1-1 instead,” Mike shot back.
“We eventually did call, you know,” Joe replied.
Fisher did not want the questioning to get derailed. She said, “So how did you get it out?”
“We used the four-by-fours over there.” Will pointed at a pile of wood on the side of the building. “We found one that was eight feet long. We used it to guide the body toward us. We pulled it ashore, but when we saw the foot, we dropped everything and called 9-1-1.”
“You did the right thing by calling us,” she said.
“Is it a guy or a girl?” Joe asked, curious.
“It’s a woman,” Fisher said. There was no point in hiding it from them. They would end up finding out through the media anyway. Plus, there was a good chance they would be interviewed for a story. They were the ones who had found the body, after all.
“What happened to her?” Mike asked.
Something terrible, Fisher wanted to say, but instead she replied, “We don’t know yet, but we’re looking into it.”
EIGHTY-THREE
Andrea Wakefield used a blade to cut the rope that held the garbage bag over the body. She then tore open the plastic garbage bag. The smell was even more intense. Holt and Fisher grimaced, but the medical examiner did not even flinch. She was rarely surprised or taken aback by what she saw.
Wakefield opened the garbage bag further. The victim was still clothed. She was wearing a black top, white skirt, and stockings, but no shoes. She wore a necklace, and there was a watch on her wrist. The watch was still ticking.
Her wrists and ankles were duct-taped.
“Why use the duct tape when there was already a rope to secure her body?” Holt said.
The Lee Callaway Boxed Set Page 40
