by M. Z. Kelly
“We already tried it,” Natalie beamed. “Tex has parts that...”
“Arrggghh,” Mo said, covering her ears, “I don’t wanna hear it.” She looked at Natalie’s boyfriend. “You need to take your ‘parts’ somewhere else. Baby sis and me got stuff to talk about with Kate.”
After a brief argument from Tex, and assurances from Natalie that she would entertain his glowing parts later, Tex sauntered off into the darkness.
After I gave my friends a ride home, I agreed to stop by for a drink, only because I knew that saying no would be about as useful as Bernie chasing his tail.
I took a seat in their living room as Natalie brought over a tray of drinks with something she called Galapagogos. “One sip of your Galapagogo, and you’ll feel like your old self,” Natalie said, apparently seeing my exhaustion.
Mo tasted the drink, which looked like green soup, then smacked her lips and scowled. “What’d you do, put a lizard in this?”
I’d also sipped my drink, thinking the same thing.
Natalie smiled. “Just a little eye of newt and toe of frog. It’s part of a Chinese recipe. Drink up, you’ll feel like new women soon.”
I set my drink aside, while Mo held her breath and downed hers in one gulp. After huffing out a couple breaths, she said, “I’m startin’ to feel kinda tingly.”
“It’s the Galapagogo, workin’ its magic.” Natalie looked at me. “Better drink up.”
“I think I’ll pass. I just need a good night’s sleep.”
“Me and Mo are still checkin’ into your daddy’s safe deposit box,” Natalie said. “So far, no luck.”
“If there was a box, it’s probably long since been closed, and the contents lost,” I said.
“Maybe you should go back to your mom again, ask her ‘bout it,” Mo suggested.
“I’ll try to work it into my schedule. It’s been pretty crazy lately.”
“We heard ‘bout the mayor’s daughter being snatched,” Mo said. “Who do you think got her?”
I didn’t want to get into the details about the case, but it occurred to me that my friends were up on all the latest social media apps. “You two ever heard of something called FTF?”
Mo’s big eyes grew wider as she looked at Natalie, who said, “It’s known as Pervert Paradise. Don’t tell me the girl was using it.”
“I’m afraid so. She may have hooked up with someone she met online.”
“’Fraid baby sis is right,” Mo said. “I heard they got a bunch of child molesting trolls that hang out on the site, just looking for kids.”
“That’s what I was afraid you’d say.”
They went on for a moment, telling me that if Valerie Weber had met someone on FTF, she was a goner.
Mo then asked me about my new lieutenant. “Heard your new boss is that Quest woman. She’s got a reputation for kicking butt and taking names.”
“How did you know about that?”
She regarded me with one eye. “You really gotta ask?”
I shook my head, knowing that my friends had almost as many contacts on the police department as I did, including Charlie.
Mo went on. “You’re gonna have your hands full with that one.”
“I think it’s a good thing,” Natalie said. “’Bout time your department took advantage of some girl power.”
“She’s tough,” I said, “but I think she’s fair. We’ll just have to see how things go.”
Mo then mentioned my other case. “I heard somethin’ more ‘bout that Bratton woman you might be interested in.”
At Natalie’s insistence, I took another sip of my Galapagogo, deciding it really did taste like someone had put a lizard in a blender. I then asked Mo, “What did you hear?”
“Word has it she’s been on the run.”
“You mean like she robbed a bank?” Natalie said. “I always thought it would be cool to be like a female Jesse James, use one of them six-shooters, and make off with a load of loot.”
Mo shook her head, her blue wig brushing against her heavy shoulders. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout someone being after her ‘cause she’s got some secrets.”
She definitely had my interest now. “What kind of secrets?”
“Word has it she was a spook.”
“You mean like some kinda witch?” Natalie asked. “If I can’t rob banks, it would be kinda cool to join one of them covens and put spells on people.”
Mo did another head shake. “I’m talkin’ ‘bout her being a spy.”
“You mean with the CIA?” I said. “There’s nothing in her background we’ve found to indicate that.”
“All I know is what I heard. If I was you, I’d check it out.”
I was still mulling over what she’d said when Natalie mentioned the Rylands and the Swarm. “I heard a bunch of their followers are still up to no good.”
“Meaning?”
“Not sure. But they got members all over the country, so there’s no tellin’ what they’re plannin’.”
Mo agreed with her. “With all them Tauists now a part of the Swarm, I’m ‘fraid they got themselves a built-in army.”
I took a breath and released it slowly, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders. “I’m going to call it a night. Busy day tomorrow.”
As was their custom, my friends followed me and Bernie to the door. “Don’t forget ‘bout Nana’s dinner this weekend,” Mo said.
Natalie giggled. “Yeah, and you can dress real casual.”
Mo nudged her shoulder as I turned around and regarded them. “Baby sis just means it’s informal.”
I knew they were hiding something, but was too tired to ask them for details. “I’ll try and make it.”
After getting a bite to eat, I watched some Survivor, thinking that my life was similar to the TV show. It felt like someone was continually trying to vote me off the island, and I was constantly fighting for my life.
I was about to head for bed when I got a call from Ross. “Just checking to see how your week’s going.”
“Never a dull moment.” I took a couple minutes, telling him about the Weber case, my new assignment, and the unit’s new lieutenant. “I think Olivia Quest is going to raise our game in Section One. I just hope I’m ready for it.”
After some encouraging words, he got to the reason for his call. “I thought I could come to Hollywood on Saturday, and maybe we could do dinner, if that works for you.”
I remembered Nana’s dinner invitation, but wasn’t sure what night it was planned for. “Let me check on my schedule and get back to you, but that sounds good.”
“I’ve got something to tell you.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“It’s a surprise. I’ll tell you all about it this weekend.”
Maybe it was my exhaustion, but Tex and Howie came to mind. I chuckled. “Just be sure you don’t show up naked and glowing in the dark.”
After telling him about my evening, I ended the call and went to bed. I lay awake for a long time, wondering what Ross’s surprise might be. I finally gave up, deciding whatever he had to show or tell me about had to be pretty tame compared to what I’d seen earlier that evening.
My thoughts eventually went to Valerie Weber and Laura Bratton. It occurred to me that both their lives were, in different ways, shrouded in secrets. I also had a feeling that time was growing short for both of them. As I closed my eyes, and sleep tugged at the coroners of my consciousness, I was determined to uncover those secrets.
THIRTY-NINE
“We’ve located Aaron Miller,” Aisha told Monica Linville after she answered her phone. “He’s been much closer than we realized.”
After filling her in on what she’d learned, Linville said, “Where can I find him?”
“We have information that two days ago he checked into the Pacific Grand Hotel on Swanson in Santa Monica. He’s registered under the name Charles Morgan.”
“I’ll be in touch.”
After ending the call, Li
nville walked down the hall to the offices of Agrasom’s president, Blake Grayson. She checked in with his secretary and, after a lengthy wait, she was let into Grayson’s luxurious inner office.
“Would you like a drink?” Grayson asked, after she took a seat. He walked over to the wet bar. “It’s been one of those days.”
“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I have information on our former employee.” Grayson turned back to her, with his Macallan single malt scotch in hand. He was a handsome man, with even features and pale blue eyes, but Linville saw the concern etched in his face. “Where is he?”
“In a hotel in Santa Monica. There’s something else you need to know.”
After giving her boss the additional details Aisha had told her about, Grayson took a seat at his antique mahogany desk. The alarm on her boss’s face was still there as he said, “As you know, Miller was part of our inner circle at one time. That gave him access to our most sensitive documents.”
“Including the Z-91 research, and the Bratton situation that he’s been using for his own gain.”
Grayson nodded. “There’s something else you need to know.” He sipped his drink before continuing. “We believe your past actions have also been compromised.”
Linville’s internal radar was suddenly off the charts. While she’d been instrumental in keeping the research documents confidential, she’d also been involved in dozens of other operations to eliminate their competition. Some of those situations had involved her and Aisha using lethal force to achieve their ends.
“How is that possible?” she demanded.
“Mr. Miller is extremely tech savvy. As you know, he was able to access our servers, even those that had been off the main grid. He knows every operation that we’ve approved of over the years. That, along with the Bratton situation, requires that he be eliminated.”
Linville exhaled, realizing that dealing with Miller wasn’t a job that she could hand off to Aisha. “I’ll take care of this personally.”
“You’re going to need the buy-in of the others, and their agreement to remain silent.” Grayson finished his drink. “And be careful. Miller is a highly skilled and dangerous adversary.”
Linville smiled. “So am I.” She rose and said, “I’ll be in touch once I have general consent.”
After returning to her office, Linville used another phone and an app called Telegram. It was an untraceable messaging service that allowed a text to self-destruct shortly after being sent. The message the director of security sent was brief and to the point, using the coded language previously agreed upon:
We have an 11-19 emergency. Meeting scheduled for 0900 tomorrow, location nine. Attendance is mandatory.
FORTY
When I arrived at Hollywood Station the next morning, I went by Lieutenant Quest’s new office with coffee and muffins to welcome her. I stopped at her doorway when I saw that she was in a heated exchange, standing toe to toe with a man I recognized as David Bronson, a deputy chief recently assigned to oversee Hollywood Station and Section One.
“While you outrank me and you are my superior,” Olivia said to Bronson, “you need to realize something. I am a monster when it comes to finding justice. While I will call you ‘Sir’ and I will take your orders, I will not back down and I will not give up—ever. What I will also do is tell anyone who will listen to me the truth about my take on an investigation. That includes your boss, my superiors, and anyone else interested in knowing the facts.”
From where I stood, I couldn’t see Bronson’s face, but his deep voice shook with anger. “Are you talking about going to the press?”
“Of course not, Commander. That would be insubordinate and against department policy.” Olivia smiled. “And it is very clear to me that I am your subordinate.” She took a step closer to him. “Now how would you like me to proceed?”
Bronson hesitated, then said, “This is your show. Just keep me informed of developments.”
I turned away and walked down the hallway, both to give them some space and so that Bronson wouldn’t see me. I heard Olivia calling to me after the deputy chief was gone. I turned and walked back to her office.
“Sorry,” I said. “I was just going to welcome you, but it looks like the deputy chief beat me to it.” I set the coffee and muffins on the table.
“That coffee looks like just what I needed.” After handing over a cup, she asked me to have a seat, while Bernie wandered off for his morning nap. “Bronson has certain priorities that I don’t share, including closing out the Bratton case. I made it clear that I wanted the case in Section One.” She took a breath and picked up her phone. “Let me get the others in here.” As she worked the keypad, she added, “Weber is obviously our priority, but Bratton is still active. If you have time today, I want you and Leo to spend some time on it.”
I was grateful for what she’d said. “I think we need to go back to Laura Bratton. I heard a rumor she may have some secrets.”
Olivia held up a finger, finished her call, then said, “Did something come up from the initial investigation?”
I shook my head. “Just a rumor that my friend heard on the streets. She thinks Laura Bratton could have worked for the CIA at one time, and someone is after her because of that.”
“That didn’t come up during our background search on her, did it?”
“No, but, as we know, the government sometimes has a way of hiding things. Her work for them could have been classified.”
“Let’s go back to her later today and see what she says.”
I sipped my coffee, thinking about her confrontation with the deputy chief. “I’m curious why Bronson now has oversight of Section One.”
“Chief Miles shuffled some of her command staff following her promotion, and I heard he wanted to supervise One.”
I decided to level with her about Bronson being instrumental in keeping the investigation into my father’s murder closed. “I don’t know what his motive was, but according to what I heard, he made it clear he didn’t want my dad’s case reopened.”
Olivia worked on her muffin for a moment. “It’s hard to say. Maybe there was something personal between him and your dad, since Bronson goes back to the dark ages. It could also be that he was just demonstrating the inflexibility he’s known for.” She smiled. “I have a feeling the deputy chief and I will go head to head again.”
I smiled. “I get the impression you’re not easily intimidated.”
“My grandfather marched with King, spent some time in jail over voting rights. I inherited some of his determination and a very big legacy.”
We chatted for a few minutes longer, before Leo, Charlie, Darby, and Molly had gathered around the table. A blonde woman I’d never seen before then entered the room and began putting the photographs we’d taken from Darrell Osgood’s apartment on a whiteboard. Molly went over and assisted her.
“This is Jenny Durst, the new crime analyst assigned to Section One,” Olivia said, introducing the woman. “The unit’s previous analyst, Ms. Rogers, has been reassigned to the Harbor Division. Jenny and Molly will be working together to assist the unit.” She looked at the two crime analysts. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”
Jenny was probably in her thirties. She was pretty, with blonde hair and blue eyes. As she began the discussion, I realized she was almost as driven as her boss.
“There were a total of seven photographs of young girls on Osgood’s wall. We’ve positively ID’d five victims, including Valerie Weber. As you can see, they were all nude and restrained when these photos were taken.”
She pointed out the photograph of a girl who looked to be about the same age as Weber and continued. “This is Donna Mason. She’s fifteen and lived in Glendale, before going missing a week ago. Mom said she was active on social media. She indicated another photograph. “Mary Samuels, age fourteen. She was reported missing from her home in Van Nuys just three days ago. No boyfriend, no explanation for where she might have gone. Mom couldn’t afford to get her a cell
phone, but she may have used a friend’s phone.”
Jenny looked at Molly, who continued the discussion. “We’ve identified two other victims: Grace Thomas and Cheryl Dent, both local girls, taken over the past week. Cheryl’s mom confirmed that she was active on FTF, don’t know about Grace.”
“I’m assuming the amounts written on the photographs is either what Osgood wanted or got for the girls,” Olivia said.
Jenny agreed with her. “That’s the only good news.”
“Why is that?” Charlie asked.
“It means they’ve probably been sold or are soon to be sold, rather than murdered.”
“Not sure which is worse,” Darby said. “What does Metro know about this?”
The department’s Metro Division was responsible for the investigation of human trafficking cases.
“The girls’ names were all in their Missing Persons Unit, but they hadn’t connected the dots to Osgood,” Jenny said.
“And what do we know about our suspect?” Leo asked.
Molly answered. “We know that Osgood’s a registered sex offender, but he wasn’t on Metro’s radar as a funnel, so he’s likely an independent operator selling the victims he takes to whoever’s buying. He’s got drug priors. It looks like meth is his poison of choice.”
“What about phones?” Charlie asked.
“We got lucky and found Valerie Weber’s phone in a dresser drawer in Osgood’s apartment. CCU is looking at it today.”
“Maybe the girls haven’t been sold yet,” Leo suggested. “It could be Osgood’s still negotiating a price.”
“Unlikely,” Jenny said. “A dead squirrel doesn’t bounce.”
“What’s that mean?” Darby asked.
“Turnover is key in the sex trade. You move fast, sell the product to the highest bidder before it becomes stale, and then you look for another score.”
Darby looked like he wanted to make one of his trademark smart ass remarks, but kept quiet. Jenny then took a moment, going over Osgood’s priors, including the kidnap and rape of the thirteen-year-old girl that led to his joint time.
