by Lisa Harris
“I’m sorry to upset you. Our only goal is to bring him in and make sure no one gets hurt in the process.”
“With that you have my full support.”
“When is the last time you saw him?”
Bianca’s manicured fingers tapped her leg. “About a week before he was arrested, so about nine months ago.”
“And have you had any contact with him while he’s been in prison?”
She walked over to an antique desk, opened a drawer, then pulled out a stack of envelopes. “He wrote me letters. You can have them if you want, but you won’t find anything in them. Everything he wrote was read by the prison staff, so secret messages are out. And no, I never responded.” She gave them a hardened look. “Like I said, that relationship is one I’d like to forget. Damon is someone I completely severed ties with a long time ago.”
Completely severed ties.
Madison glanced at Jonas. Maybe it was nothing more than a coincidence, but she’d heard that same wording from Mary Margaret. Almost as if they’d both been . . . scripted.
“I would like to take the letters, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” Madison said. “We’ll get them back to you.”
“You can keep them. I’m not sure why I did, except he was a bit of a romantic. And I suppose that because of the twenty-odd years between us, he made me feel young again.”
“What did you know about him?”
“Damon? He was raised by a single mom after his dad died. Ended up going to college and getting a degree in accounting, of all things. He was charming, funny, spontaneous, and knew how to make a woman feel as if she was the only one in the room.” Bianca gazed out at the city. “After my husband died, I admit I was a bit lost. Damon swooped in and seemed to fill in the empty spaces of my heart. Something I wouldn’t have thought possible. But then the police came around asking questions. I told them there was no way Damon was involved, but they arrested him.”
“That must have been hard,” she said. “We appreciate your candidness.”
“I know there were rumors circulating that he was nothing more than a con man, and I wasn’t his first victim. I spoke to Detective Randall and I know what he thinks, but whatever my thoughts are about the man, I know he didn’t do it.”
Madison tried to judge the woman’s expression and whether or not she was telling the truth. Something told her she wasn’t. “Would you mind if I use your restroom?”
“Of course not. There’s one down the hall to the right.”
“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”
“I just have a couple more questions while she steps out,” Jonas said.
Madison walked down the hallway, then closed the door to the bathroom from the outside. Across the hallway was an office. She stepped inside. Two walls were lined with bookshelves, and a third was another wall of windows overlooking the city. A desk faced the windows. They needed to know what the woman was planning. If Madison’s hunch was right, Bianca had been in contact with Barrick while he was in prison.
She lifted the edge of a short stack of papers, looking for a planner or a note the woman might have left. If she’d been in contact with Barrick, like Madison was convinced she had, there had to be some kind of evidence. She could hear Jonas’s voice but couldn’t make out what either of them was saying.
She sifted through another pile of papers and found a planner. Dentist on Friday. Lunch with Carol on Saturday. No indication that his escape had changed her plans. But Barrick’s actions had been spur of the moment.
She moved on to the computer and opened it up, surprised there was no password. She quickly checked Bianca’s browser history.
Search underway for escaped inmate Damon Barrick.
So she had lied. And if she’d lied about not knowing of Barrick’s escape, what else was she lying about?
Madison moved on to the trash, looking for something—anything—that might be a clue that she’d been in contact with him. A white-and-yellow envelope caught her eye. The return address was a company that expedited government documents and visas.
Like a passport.
So Bianca had renewed her passport and expedited it, because . . . because she was getting ready to leave the country with Barrick?
Jonas’s voice rose from the other room. Madison stepped back into the hallway, opened the bathroom door, then stepped forward as Bianca rounded the corner.
The woman’s hands fisted at her sides. “I guess you found the restroom?”
“I did. Thank you.” They walked back toward the sitting room.
“Did you have any other questions?” she asked.
“I think we’re done here,” Jonas said. “We appreciate your time.”
“Of course. Anytime. I hope you find him.”
“Actually, I do have one more question.” Madison stopped in the entryway. “Though this one is purely personal. Are you planning to take any trips soon? I couldn’t help but see some of your photos on the walls. They’re stunning. I’m sure your travel log must be incredible.”
“No. I . . . I used to travel more when my husband was alive, but I don’t make as many trips now. I do some volunteer work here in the city, and sometimes spend my weekends up in Aspen. That’s about it, anymore.”
They thanked Bianca for her time and said goodbye.
Madison and Jonas stepped out into the hallway, then waited for the elevator door to shut before talking.
“She’s the perfect mark,” Jonas said, as the elevator began its descent. “He convinced Mary Margaret to mislead the authorities. Who’s to say he hasn’t done the same thing here? We know he needs a passport, but he also needs money. And if he wants to disappear, he’s going to need lots of it. Here’s someone who has it.”
“She’s planning to go with him,” Madison said.
His brow narrowed. “You found something on your trip to the bathroom?”
“For starters, she lied.” Madison crossed her arms. “She knew about Barrick’s escape. I checked the browser history on her computer and there was an article about it.”
“You were busy. ”
“I’m pretty sure she’s talked with him and didn’t want us to know.”
“You’re good.”
“Thought I’d try to be worth my keep.”
He shot her a smile. “Funny. What else?”
“There was an envelope from a company that expedites passports,” she said, serious again.
“How quick can you get them?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s possible to get them in twenty-four hours if you’re willing to pay.”
“So it’s definitely possible that she heard from him after the crash and then ordered herself a new passport.”
“Definitely.” Madison shifted to rest her hands on her hips. “And something else. Did you notice the way she answered our questions?”
“I did. It was like they’d been . . . rehearsed.”
“Exactly. She even used the same wording as Mary Margaret. ‘I completely severed ties with him.’ Maybe it’s just me, but it seems a bit formal, and for them both to use that phrase . . .”
“I thought the same thing. And she was nervous. Especially when you stepped out. She kept glancing at the hallway. It threw her off.”
“She was probably worried I was searching her office.”
“Which you were. My guess is that she tried to make it seem like she had nothing to hide. Invite us in, offer us something to drink, admit a relationship with Barrick, but claim she now had nothing to do with him since he was arrested.”
“Which was all nothing but a lie. Now we just need to get her to lead us to Barrick.”
Twenty-Seven
Back at the US Marshals’ offices, they started putting together a plan to see how they could use Bianca to get to Barrick. The evidence Madison had found in the woman’s office pointed to the fact that not only was she aware Barrick had escaped, she was also planning to leave the country with him.
What they didn’t know was
Barrick’s plan.
When they’d talked to Mary Margaret in Wyoming, she’d been sure that Barrick was going to send for her, something Jonas was now convinced was a pipe dream. In fact, he was certain that anything Barrick had told her was a lie. He’d gotten the money he’d needed and never looked back. The only positive outcome for Mary Margaret was that, unlike some of the other women Barrick had had relationships with, she was still alive.
Bianca, though, was different. The woman had money. Enough to set Barrick up comfortably for the rest of his life. What he wasn’t sure about was if Barrick actually intended for her to come with him, or if she was just his bankroll out of the country.
Jonas glanced down at the banking information he’d just been sent, verifying that Bianca had made both a hefty transfer of funds to a location they were still trying to trace, as well as a large withdrawal over the past twenty-four hours. If Detective Randall was right, and Barrick had killed Stephanie Phillips and Daisy Porter, it was very likely he had no intention of taking Bianca with him. And no matter what he’d told her, he could very well be planning to get rid of her as well.
“I know we’ve been tracking her phone.” Madison looked up from the other side of the table where she and two deputy marshals had joined them. They were currently reading Detective Randall’s files, in particular the information they had on Bianca Carleton. “But I think we need to get a detail on her as well. From everything we have on her, it’s definitely looking as if she’s in contact with Barrick. We need to guarantee we don’t miss him if he shows up.”
Deputy US Marshal Lance Patterson scooted his chair back. “I can arrange that.”
Jonas nodded. “I agree. She’s definitely our best lead at this point, and we can’t let him slip out of our hands again.”
Jonas’s phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket, then stepped away from the table to take the call. “Biggie?”
The familiar sound of his longtime informant’s voice came on the line. “Hey, Boss. It’s been a long time.”
“Thanks for calling me back.”
“Are you back in town?”
“For a few days. I need a favor.”
“I thought you might.”
“Can we meet?”
There was a pause on the line. Jonas waited for an answer, worried Biggie would say no. “Biggie?”
“Do you remember that old café we used to meet at?”
“Yes.”
“It closed down, but there’s an empty warehouse not far from it. I’ll text you the address and meet you in the back by the loading dock at three. There shouldn’t be anyone around today.”
The warehouse was deserted when Jonas drove behind it. He parked the car, then shut off the engine.
“How long have you known this guy?” Madison asked.
“I met him when I was a detective years ago. He’s the best CI I ever had.”
Madison glanced at her watch. “You think he’s still coming? He’s already ten minutes late.”
“You’re not nervous, are you?” he asked.
“Just antsy, I guess. I’m ready for this to be over. We’re so close to Barrick and yet he’s always a step ahead.”
“Give Biggie time. He’ll be here.”
Five minutes later, an old beat-up Mustang pulled around the corner and stopped at the other side of the dock. Biggie climbed out and headed over to them. At six three and two hundred fifty-plus pounds, Biggie hadn’t changed at all from the last time Jonas had seen him.
“It’s good to see you again,” he said, introducing Madison. “We appreciate your meeting with us. How have you been?”
“Staying out of trouble.”
“That’s good. Did you hear about the plane crash in Idaho?”
“I heard something about a prison transport that went down. One dead and the other escaped.”
“We need to find the escapee, and we believe he’s here in Denver.”
Biggie tugged on the edge of his shirt. “So what do you need from me?”
“He’s trying to leave the country, but he needs a passport,” Madison said. “We need to know where he’s planning to get it.”
“There’s more than one option in a city this big.”
“True,” Jonas said. “We have a list of suspected forgers, but this person would have to be fast. Say a twenty-four- or forty-eight-hour turnaround, and good enough to ensure a passport would make it through security. Someone who takes cash.”
“Which means they’d probably be using a stolen passport and not forging the entire thing,” Biggie said.
“For that kind of turnaround, exactly.”
Biggie folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “And when the cops come arresting him and word gets out that I was behind it, then what happens?”
“All we need is a name. No one will ever know it came from you,” Madison said.
“No one will know, Biggie. I’ve worked with you for years and I’ve never betrayed you.”
“I know, but you can’t guarantee that. It’s hard out there.”
“In all the time I’ve worked with you, you’ve always come through for me, and I’ve always been fair to you.”
“True.”
“Then why are you so jumpy tonight?”
Biggie shoved his hands into his front pockets. “I had this guy come up to me at the bar yesterday. He threatened me and my family. Accused me of being a snitch.”
“You’re still doling out information.”
“Every once in a while. But it made me reconsider if it’s worth it.”
“I understand, but this man might kill someone else. We need to stop him.”
“It’s always urgent, but if anyone finds out I’m here, I’ll be the one you’re carrying out in a body bag.”
Jonas held up a photo of Ryan Phelps on his phone. “This man is dead because of Barrick. He had a wife and three kids. And he’s not the only one our guy has killed. We believe he’s waiting for new IDs, then will head across the border. Once he’s out of the country, it will be a lot harder to find him.”
“All we need from you is a name of who he might approach to get a new passport,” Madison said. “You can help us stop a murderer, Biggie.”
Jonas handed him a wad of bills.
Biggie shoved the money in his pocket. “I can think of a few people. But nobody—and I mean nobody—can know I gave them to you.”
“Everything you tell me is confidential, Biggie. I swear.”
“Things like driver’s licenses are a lot easier to get your hands on, but for passports, there’s not a lot of options. At least not for someone who can do the job right and ensure you can get through security without raising any red flags. I’ve got a couple possible names.”
Jonas tried to swallow his frustration. They needed to narrow it down.
“How about we give you a name?”
Biggie shrugged. “Okay.”
“What about the name Zookeeper?” Madison asked. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“The Zookeeper.” Biggie rubbed the back of his bald head. “It’s been a long time since I heard that name.”
“Who is he?” Madison asked.
“He dabbles with a whole bunch of things, which is why they call him the Zookeeper. Money laundering, identity theft, forgery, insider trading . . . you name it. I heard it said that whatever you needed, he could supply.”
“Even fake passports?” Jonas asked.
Biggie nodded.
“Then that has to be him.” Madison glanced at Jonas. “Do you have a name?”
Biggie hesitated again. “I don’t know his last name, but his first name is Yuri.”
“How do we contact him?” Jonas asked.
Madison turned to Biggie. “You could get me in there, couldn’t you? If I needed a new passport?”
“You?”
“If Yuri finds out we’re onto him, Barrick will never show up,” she said. “We also need some kind of guarantee that we’re on the right t
rack. Otherwise, we’ll have to set up a handful of stakeouts and we might still end up with nothing.”
Biggie shook his head. “This guy will spot a cop a mile away. You’d never pull it off.”
“He’s right,” Jonas said.
“Maybe,” she said. “But I’ve done plenty of undercover work.”
“I’m still not convinced—”
“I could go in as a single mom, say, running from an abusive relationship.” She turned to Jonas.
He frowned, not surprised she’d come up with a risky plan. “If you had the right cover story, and managed to convince him, it might work.”
“This guy has a reputation for handling problems himself,” Biggie said.
“Meaning?” Madison asked.
“He’s not one you want to cross, and if he were to end up finding out you worked for the government—”
“He won’t,” she said.
“You can’t know that.”
“Biggie might be right,” Jonas said. “There are just too many things that could go wrong in this scenario.”
“Something I think every time I do an early morning raid to bring down a fugitive. The way I see it, this is our only lead right now. It’s worth the risk.” She turned back to Biggie. “Can you get me in to see him?”
“I could try.”
“If we don’t find this guy, more people will die,” she said. “If we know he has to pick up a passport, that means we’ll know where to watch for him.”
Biggie sighed. “Fine. I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try to set up an appointment.”
“We’ll come up with a background story,” Jonas said, “and he needs to know that this is a rush job.”
“He’ll want cash. Up front.”
“Not a problem,” Madison said. “Are you good with this, Jonas?”
“It might work.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
His hesitation had nothing to do with Madison. He had to remember that she was not Felicia.
He nodded. “Actually, despite the risks, I think your idea’s spot-on if we want to find Barrick without scaring him off. What do you say, Biggie?”
