by G. K. Parks
By the time Decker returned from his run, I had moved to the floor and fallen asleep with the magazine against my chest. The sound of the shower woke me, but I was too achy to move. When Decker came out, he helped me up.
“Back spasm,” I explained, yawning. “It’ll pass. I probably just need to stretch it out.” I chuckled bitterly. “Tim probably has a class for that.”
“Are you sure it isn’t from all those intense workouts or sleeping at the table?”
“Probably.”
He gingerly felt along my back for any obvious knots. “Maybe a hot shower will help. If not, they can give you something at HQ.”
“Like coffee.” I smiled, ignoring his much more serious response. Fueled by that thought, I dressed and waited for our return to the saner world.
Tim was pleasant, our indiscretion clearly forgiven. The morning ritual focused on turning inward to address outward stressors. He spoke about relationships and the difficulty in maintaining them. That was when I realized that all the men at the commune were paired off. Obviously, that was an easier feat since they were outnumbered four to one, but it gave me a strange feeling. Before Jace and I allegedly connected, he wasn’t the only single man in the group. Now they were all in relationships. Another oddity was the fact that there were no same-sex couples. Obviously, Tim’s recruitment was biased. He only wanted women that would be attracted to him. And from the beaming faces around the compound, I couldn’t help but think this was nothing more than a harem.
My phone chimed, and I politely ducked away from the group. Pretending to take a call, I waited several minutes before returning in time to be dismissed. Tim waved off a few of his flock in order to approach us. After filling him in on the staged phone call, he wished me luck with the lawyers, practically insisting that Decker goes with me.
Something was nagging at Jace, but given the early hour, my aching back, and my disrupted sleep, I wasn’t in the mood to pry. Frankly, avoiding all conversation seemed perfectly acceptable. Decker tended to talk a lot, and if we weren’t working through theories or evidence, he was wheedling his way into my psyche. In truth, his efforts appeared to be helping, and I didn’t doubt that the op was his motivation. Unfortunately, it also made our coexistence rather stressful at times.
“Last night, Tim actually asked if we were using protection,” Jace said out of the blue. “That’s why I bought the condoms. I imagine he’ll ask the clerk about our purchases.”
I turned and stared at him from behind my sunglasses. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
He shook his head. “I’m not. He’s done it before. Should any of the women get pregnant, that would jeopardize everything. A baby would become the priority. Not the church. And certainly not Tim.” He tapped against the steering wheel. “Have you noticed that the other male members now have female companions?”
“Yep. What’s up with that?”
Decker shook his head. “I’m not sure. I have this sick suspicion that Tim was discouraging some of them from choosing partners, so I would get first dibs. But until you, my interaction with the other women never went beyond the occasional friendly flirtation.” He checked the mirrors and switched lanes. No one was following us, but it didn’t hurt to be careful. “I believe he wanted me to choose someone like Sarah, who is committed to the cause and will never leave the facility. Now he’s afraid. That’s why he’s being so lenient about our intrusion upstairs.”
“He has big plans for you.”
“I think so.” He switched lanes again, turning onto a different road that would lead us to the tricked-out mansion. “I just need to figure out how to play this to our advantage. If he’ll share his side business with me, we’ll have a real shot at grabbing him and stopping whoever his connection is. The first thing we need to do is have Ben move up your hearing date, and we need to get the assistant director to sign off on the money. The sooner Tim gets a big payday, the sooner I’ll be able to prove my loyalty to him and his cause. From there, we should be able to move on this.”
“Great.” I gave him a look. “Just make sure you don’t sell me out to be his next drug mule.”
He chuckled. “You should think about that the next time you almost shoot me.” He glanced at me from the corner of his eye. “Although, I probably should have expected the elbow to the ribs when I blocked you from reaching your weapon.” I didn’t say anything, and he tapped my leg with the back of his hand. “How’s your back?”
“Oddly enough, it’s fine now. It miraculously healed after entering the hallowed grounds of the commune.”
Decker laughed. “Blasphemer.”
Thirty-three
The information overload was taking a toll. Decker was probably the only member of the team that slept well last night. From the number of empty soda cans and energy drinks, I was surprised Ben and Carlo hadn’t gone into cardiac arrest. Stella hadn’t moved since we’d entered the room, and I couldn’t help but think that she might be asleep with her eyes open. Eve was tackling the ledger and rolodex, cross-referencing the two to try to crack the code. Wilde had written everything in some form of shorthand that was proving impossible to decipher.
“Where are we on the carpet swatch?” Decker asked, just as Eckhardt burst into the room with the evidence bag in hand.
“It’s blood, diluted with a mix of saliva and stomach acid,” Eckhardt said, offering me a nod. “That tool you photographed is actually used to assist in retrieving swallowed contraband. Typically, an individual would tie off the ballooned item with some dental floss or string, swallow it, and later retrieve it. It’s common in prisons, but as any corrections officer can tell you, the retrieval doesn’t always go smoothly. The package can get stuck on the way up.”
“That explains the blood.” Decker blinked a few times, processing it out. “Any idea whose it is?”
“No match to any of the dead mules,” Eve volunteered. “And since it’s so degraded by the time we sequence the DNA and run it through the database, it’ll be a waste of a few weeks. It’s too damaged to give us a viable match, and that’s assuming that the victim is in the system.”
“That’s also assuming that the person smuggling the contraband is a victim,” Stella said, snapping out of her trance. “I’ve done nothing but read these files. I don’t even know where to begin. Tim knows so much about his followers. He could easily steal their identities, empty their bank accounts, and control every aspect of their lives. But I’m assuming that they willingly gave him this information, which isn’t punishable.”
Decker frowned. “He has hidden cameras in their rooms, probably throughout the entire facility. It’s an invasion of their privacy.”
“Would they object if they knew?” Matt asked. “It sounds like they’d be willing to do anything for this guy.”
“But is that because he has dirt on them?” I queried.
Stella sighed. “It’s the chicken and egg. The good news is we have this information now. I’m working on updating our dossiers and backgrounds of the followers. From there, I’ll do a quick assessment to find the weakest link and start knocking down doors to their past lives. With any luck, a few have a significant someone that will want to help us get them back. If we can separate one of them from the group, we’ll have a better idea of how these people are really being treated.”
“Shouldn’t you already know that?” Jace snapped. “Isn’t that what I’ve been reporting for the last ten months? Does anyone here need a reminder that Wilde poisoned Alex? We know how these people are being treated.”
“But we don’t know why they’re willing to put up with it,” I shot back. “Is it loyalty or fear?”
“Probably a bit of both,” Decker admitted quietly. Then he updated the room on the shift in Tim’s attitude toward us and the need to move forward with solidifying our roles within the co-op. He concluded by saying, “I’m gonna speak to the assistant director. I do appreciate the work everyone is doing. Keep it up.”
Once he was out the door
, I gave Matt an uncertain look. “How are things actually going?”
“We’re making progress. Everything we’ve said is accurate. Our best bet is still infiltrating Wilde’s operation once we learn his true agenda. All of this intel is great, but it isn’t leading to an underground drug network or the person responsible for cutting open six mules.” Eckhardt sighed. “Decker’s starting to get tunnel vision. It happens sometimes. I don’t blame him. His focus has been on Wilde for so long that he forgets we have to draw a connection.”
“It’d be easier if we had an outside link,” Carlo said, swiveling away from the computer, draining another can of soda, and burping. “Honestly, we’re very close to finding one. Those farming boards and posts aren’t about soil conditions or equipment. I’ve actually read the articles and the messages, and given what we know about the property and the climate here, his questions and comments aren’t feasible. Shit, they aren’t even in the ballpark. Either he’s the most incompetent hobbyist farmer ever, or he’s talking about something else. We’ve been tracing IP addresses to RW locations.”
“RW?” I asked.
“Real world,” Ben volunteered, clicking away at the keys. “We have a dozen or so that check out as legit agriculturalists, but there are three users that are posing a problem. They’ve been rerouting through various servers throughout the world, bouncing us from Canada to Africa to Russia. I’m deep diving to see if I can get an actual location or user. Some of my connections on the dark web might be able to assist.”
“Did you get clearance for that?” Stella asked.
“Sure,” Ben replied sarcastically.
Decker returned with a piece of paper. He gave Ben and Stella an odd look, sensing that he missed something. Shaking it off, he handed the paper to Carlo. “We’ll need to move up the estate hearing to the end of this week. Once that happens, we’ll need documents ruling in Alice’s favor and unfreezing her trust fund. I’ll want her father’s business assets to remain contested for now, so Wilde has a reason to keep her on the hook. In the meantime, make sure the court docket reflects the new date and time for the hearing.” He spun to look at Stella. “Figure out the earliest timeline in which she would have access to the money after the ruling. We’ve been authorized the usual amount, so I want those funds drafted into the account at that time. Make sure everything is completely traceable because she’s going to wire it to Tim as a thank you.”
“When is this happening?” I asked.
Decker blew out a breath. “At the end of the week.”
“That soon?” It seemed suspicious to me that everything was happening at once, but I had been living on the property for over a month. It really wasn’t that soon.
“It’ll coincide with your absence,” Decker said. He reached into his pocket and handed me a note. “You need to call your handler at the OIO. Your flight’s already been arranged.”
“The hell it has.” Assuming Jablonsky was pulling me, I stormed out of the room before Jace could pick up on anything besides my annoyance. Fearful of what might have turned up during the OIO investigation, I didn’t know what was waiting for me at home. All I knew was that we were on the cusp of a breakthrough, and I couldn’t leave now. Slamming the door to my office, I picked up the phone and dialed Mark’s cell. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Parker?” he asked, his voice garbled by a mouthful of food. “Whatever happened to starting a conversation with ‘Mark, I miss you. How’s tricks?’”
“It’s not the 1950s. Why are you pulling me?”
He snorted then coughed as he choked on his lunch. Finally, he managed to say, “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Decker moved up my cover’s court date to coincide with my absence.”
“Oh,” he coughed a few more times, “the prosecutor’s office needs your testimony on that terrorism case. The bastard’s defense attorney had the trial date moved, and since you were lead, the AUSA wanted you here to testify. They understand the situation, so it’ll be done in a closed court. Everything should be handled within one day. Didn’t you get my message?”
I snorted at the post-it. Being sent home. Call OIO. “Not the important part.”
“Numbnuts,” Mark grumbled. “I’ll pick you up at the airport Friday morning. You’ll arrive at eight a.m. my time. So enjoy the red-eye. We’ll get you back on a plane Saturday morning, and you should be back with those idiotic cowboys midday Saturday. I’ll see you soon.”
* * *
As soon as we returned to the co-op that afternoon, Jace went into total game mode. While I worked on stress management techniques by taking a Tai Chi class with several of Wilde’s flock, Jace spoke to the big man himself. Apparently, their interaction wasn’t meant to be for my ears, but for all intents and purposes, Decker was a double-agent. He informed Wilde that I would be out of town for the court appearance. My legal team was putting me up in a hotel for the night, but they were hopeful we’d be getting a verdict the same day.
Tim was elated, and he made that fact known when I arrived for the evening ritual. Pulling me aside before he began preaching, he spoke on how privileged it was to get to know me and how he hoped that nothing would change. He also made sure to point out every positive thing he’d done since our first meeting at the restaurant. Then he dedicated his evening’s lecture to giving back to others less fortunate. He concluded by pointing out that the church was suffering, and we needed to continue to focus our efforts and band together to make the weekend sales and recruitment even more successful.
For the rest of the week, Tim continued to nudge me in the right direction. He’d been extra attentive, asking about my ankle and plans for returning to work. I felt as though he was inserting subliminal messages into the conversation in an attempt to encourage me to quit. My ankle should have been nearly healed by now, so I told him I’d been giving it plenty of thought. Despite Tim’s connection to the restaurant, the business appeared clean. Going back to work would have been a waste of time, but I couldn’t exactly say that. Instead, I told Tim that I didn’t want to commit to anything until I learned of the court’s decision.
To prove that he was onboard, Jace spent more and more time in Wilde’s presence, going so far as to eat morning meals with the others. He and Wilde became practically inseparable most days, but after the evening ritual, Decker would turn his entire focus to me. We’d make googly eyes at one another and disappear out to the trailer after the other followers became uncomfortable with our PG-13 level of affection. One evening, I was fairly certain I saw Tim give Decker an encouraging nod as we made our way toward the exit.
The team continued to process the data and run down leads. However, Tim’s constant presence had made contact difficult. Phone calls to our DEA numbers had ceased for fear that Tim would discover the secondary devices. And since Wilde had been frequenting the gas station where Decker worked, we hadn’t been able to use the dead drop either. The surveillance vans remained on Wilde. And a few agents had scouted the outer perimeter of the facility, hoping to unearth the tunnels, but quite literally, nothing had surfaced.
“Dammit,” I cursed, throwing a few magazines into a duffel bag. There was nothing inside the trailer that I needed to pack. Most of my clothing and other personal effects were locked up at HQ since I couldn’t risk Wilde finding them. “I shouldn’t be leaving now. With the weekend approaching, we could have created an opportunity to explore the tunnel.”
“Maybe you can run interference, and I’ll check it out Sunday,” Decker suggested. “I’m sure Tim will be all over you once you return with the good news.” He picked up a few rolls of paper towel and tossed them into the duffel to make it appear that I’d actually packed for my overnight excursion. “The team will reroute any potential calls to your hotel,” he put the word in air quotes, “to your cell phone. It’s possible Tim might phone to find out how it went or to offer an inspirational word.”
“Great.”
“Just be prepared for the possibili
ty. Although, I can probably run interference by telling him that we spoke.” He exhaled and assessed me. “You’re testifying in a high profile case, right?”
I nodded.
“There might be media coverage. It doesn’t matter if it’s on the other coast, it could be broadcast. The good thing is Tim limits access to outside news sources, but do your best to make sure they don’t post your mug all over the media outlets.”
“It’s a closed court. I won’t be identified by name. Nothing will become public. It should be fine.” I snickered, patting his shoulder. “If you’re stressed, you should probably go talk to Wilde or take some of his stress reduction classes. Might I suggest some Tai Chi?”
“I’ve already served my time. I had eight months of that shit.” He glanced at me. “And from what I can tell just by observing you, they don’t work. You go to them twice a day, and you come back here wired like a jackrabbit. You’ve spent over an hour each night working out this week. Clearly, they do nothing more than wind you up.”
“Or that’s just a side effect of being in such close proximity to Tim.” Glancing at the clock, I needed to leave. With any luck, my departure was late enough to avoid scrutiny by Tim or any of his followers. “Watch your back while I’m gone.”
“I will.” Decker handed me the duffel. “Have a safe trip. I’ll see you Saturday. And don’t forget to bring back the paper towel. We might need those to wipe up Tim’s mess.”
Thirty-four
SSA Mark Jablonsky was waiting at the airport for my arrival. I actually slept on the plane a lot better than I tended to sleep in the trailer. Admittedly, it was nice to be home. That damn California sunshine was driving me crazy.
