Cold Case Recruit
Page 18
“Someone might know who’s behind this.”
“John Pulman knows. Carter Nichols knows. The man renting the hotel, too.”
“Get a wanted bulletin out on Nichols,” an agent on the phone said. “He should be easy enough to track down. Start with Pulman’s phone records. Nichols made a call to the coffee shop today. Trace it.”
“I’m on it,” another agent on the phone said.
“And get a team together. Olsen. Can you manage that on your end?”
“Yes, sir,” Agent Olsen said, jotting a note down.
As a non-law-enforcement person, Drury hadn’t been allowed to attend this meeting. The lead FBI agent had decided she should wait this one out. That had been all right with her, though. She and Junior would meet him at the cabin. He’d catch a ride from someone.
The meeting ended and now Agent Olsen would assemble a team to rescue the women at Tennessee House. All in all, Brycen would call this a pretty good day.
Chapter 12
Drury listened with Brycen as the raid commenced at the Tennessee House. He’d arranged for her to accompany him in the central command room the FBI had set up. An IT team had the comms and surveillance online with rapid expertise. No ordinary police unit could have done this. Without Brycen and his connection to Dark Alley, the raid would have taken a lot longer.
An agent from New York had arrived late in the afternoon, and after Brycen’s briefing he’d organized local teams and instructed them on the sequence of the operation. He’d obviously done this sort of thing many times before. Now he leaned against a wall next to a large whiteboard that still showed his drawings, listening with the rest of them as the team of agents and a few select troopers approached the hotel.
“Elvis is in position,” a voice came over the radio. From the whiteboard, Elvis had the front entrance.
“Graceland is ready. On your mark, Elvis.” That team had the back entrance. There were no side entrances, only windows.
“Mockingbird one and two are standing by.” Those were the agents inside vans on the side and slightly down the street in the front.
“Roger. Beale Street is in position.” Those were the snipers.
“Elvis is going in.”
A bang followed by an explosion of a smoke bomb crackled over the radio.
“Graceland is in! FBI! FBI! FBI! Nobody move!”
Shouts erupted, men startled to be caught by armed black-clad men. Cries of women joined in. Bluesy music playing in the lounge eerily fit the theme of the team call names.
“On the floor! Spread your arms and legs!”
The cries eased into fast-speaking women. Some spoke English. Some Spanish and dialects from Asia that Drury couldn’t decipher.
“You. On the floor. Now!”
A crying woman must have run to one of the lead agents. “Are we free? Are we free?” she sobbed.
“You’re free,” the agent said. “You never have to live with these animals again.”
She cried harder and kissing noises could be heard. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“You’re safe now,” another agent said. “All of you, please leave through the front door. There’s a van waiting for you.”
Happy cries and talking voices faded as the women left the house.
“Grand Ole Opry, we’ve got the Pigeons.”
Cheers erupted in the room. Drury’s eyes stung. Women imprisoned and forced to do awful things against their will were prisoners no more. She looked over at Brycen. All because of him. She found it difficult not to succumb to hero worship.
He caught her look and smiled a little, glad like her that the raid had gone smoothly.
A trooper appeared in the doorway. “Sir,” he said to Brycen. “John Pulman has been arrested. He’s in interview room one.”
Brycen held out his hand to Drury, indicating she should go with him. She took his hand and he helped her up. Then she followed him out of the room, smiling at the lead FBI agent and noticing he wore a wedding ring. Lucky lady.
He smiled back with a nod and a salute.
Down the hall to the windowless interview room with pale green walls, Drury went into the side room that still had the one-way mirror even though the interview room had been upgraded with cameras and recording capability.
John sat at the table facing the door. When Brycen entered, his eyes did a half roll and he shook his head.
Brycen took the chair across from him. “Do you need anything? Water? Candy? I’d offer you a cigarette, but there’s no smoking allowed in the building.”
“I don’t smoke.”
Leaning comfortably back, Brycen took his time going forward. His big frame dwarfed John’s, and his presence filled the room. Drury couldn’t tell if John noticed. He did a fine job of concealing any thoughts or fears, which he had to have, being arrested for serious crimes like prostitution and human trafficking.
“Did you bring those girls in by boat, John?” Brycen finally asked.
“No.”
“Who did?” Smooth, how he swooped in and planted that question. John had asked for a lawyer, but he’d answered Brycen’s first question.
“I want a lawyer.”
“I might be able to work a deal for you if you tell us who brought those girls here against their will.”
John smirked. “I’m a dead man if I tell you that. In fact, you’re already dead. I don’t care how much of a hotshot you think you are. You’re a dead man. Me? I want a lawyer. I ain’t telling you nothin’.”
“So you do know... You know who brought those girls in.”
“Lawyer.”
Brycen leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “I don’t think I’m a hotshot, John. All I know is I’m going to find whoever forced those women to work for your tenant. Just like I found you. That’s what happens when people break the law. They end up with a distinct disadvantage against people like me. You’re disadvantaged. Your boss is disadvantaged. Me? I’m not disadvantaged. I’m not going to jail. You are. You could make your sentence better if you cooperate.”
“I’m nothing compared to what you’re up against. You’re a fool. And you’re only one man. There’s nowhere you can hide now. You’ve screwed yourself. You should never have gone to Tennessee House.”
If the man who’d delivered the women to Tennessee House was that dangerous, wouldn’t he already be on the FBI’s radar?
“Who is he?” Brycen asked. “Give me a name.”
“Lawyer. I ain’t talking.”
He wouldn’t. Drury could see that. He feared the human trafficker more than the law.
Brycen stood. “All right. Have it your way.” He went to the door and knocked. “I’ll do what I can to get you the stiffest sentence the law can allow.” He glanced back as the door clicked opened.
John didn’t budge. He’d made a decision to align himself with someone dangerous. Now he had to remain aligned.
Brycen left the room and Drury joined him in the hall.
“How many human trafficking organizations have operations in this area?” she asked.
“That’s hard to know. Human trafficking is a tens-of-billions criminal industry.”
“Yeah, but certain criminals must stand out.”
“Yes. But does ours?” He stopped at the exit. “Let’s go get Junior.”
“Maybe we should leave him at my parents’. If this guy is as dangerous as John indicated, I don’t want him near us.”
“All right. We’ll talk to him, though, so he understands.”
She smiled. “Of course.” He sounded like a father figure. She wondered if he realized what her son had done to him.
She’d rather not think about what Brycen had done to her.
*
Early the next morning, Brycen and Drury left the hotel to go talk to Junior. Media vans waited out front. Normally he’d welcome them. Press time made for good, free advertising, but now they’d only draw unwanted attention. The human trafficker could track them.
 
; “How did they know to be here?” Drury asked.
“Someone talked.” They’d finished with the raid so late last night that going to the cabin would be a waste of time. “I saw a woman leaving the bar recognize me. I thought she might have had too much to drink, but apparently not.” The raid had gone straight to the news after it happened.
Reporters rushed from the vans and questions fired at him.
“Any comment on the raid, Detective Cage?”
“Is it true you tipped the FBI on a human trafficking ring here in Anchorage?”
“How is the human trafficking bust related to Trooper Decoteau’s murder?”
“Mrs. Decoteau, how satisfied are you with Dark Alley Investigations?”
“Very.”
Brycen put his hand on the small of her back and ushered her through the crowd.
“Will this story be featured on his show?”
Drury turned away from that reporter.
“Is John Pulman behind the trafficking ring or is the man who rents from him?”
“We can’t comment yet,” Brycen said, opening the passenger door for Drury.
She looked out the window as cameras flashed and recorded. Brycen drove off.
“I’m not sure which is worse to deal with, the press or homicide cases,” she said, letting a big breath go.
“When this is all over, you’ll have quite a story to tell,” he said, the words feeling automatic. Before coming here and meeting her, he’d have jumped at the chance to get her on his show. Dropping subtle hints like the one he’d just spoken would have felt productive. Now it felt...empty. He couldn’t figure out why.
She didn’t respond right away.
“I don’t understand the appeal, Brycen. Why do you like the publicity? You don’t really seem the type...the celebrity type. You wouldn’t even talk to the press back there.”
Now he had to take some time to respond. “Working active cases is a lot different than showcasing solved cases.” Obviously he had to keep certain facts of an active investigation closed to the public. But she’d noticed what he had—a change in him. For the first time in a decade, he questioned whether Chicago was still good for him. Was he still running away from what had happened here in Alaska and was he ready to face it head-on now?
Kadin was right. Brycen was born to be a detective. He had run from the daily grind of homicide. He needed a break. Working Noah’s case had reawakened what had driven him to become a detective in the first place.
But was he ready to give up his show? However he’d gotten there, he did enjoy it and he was successful. That counted for something.
Drury counted for something. And Junior...
Butterflies of apprehension tumbled in his stomach as he pulled up to Drury’s parents’ house. Even more so when Junior came charging through the front door with a giant smile, running toward the SUV.
Brycen got out and heard him talking excitedly to Drury.
“You were on the news, Mom!”
She crouched for a hug. “Easy there, Tonto. It wasn’t so great.”
“Yeah, it was!” Junior went to Brycen, who’d come around the front of the SUV.
He froze when Junior wrapped his arms around him, hugging as he had his mother.
“Can I go on the news with you?”
“Maybe after we catch the bad guy.” He kept his demeanor light, not giving away his inner trepidation. Maybe this was where he needed to draw the line. Junior had begun to come around. He shouldn’t start letting the boy hope they’d be a family unit for good.
“Speaking of bad guys.” Brycen crouched to be more on his level. “Your mom and I stopped by to talk to you.”
Junior looked back at his mom. “You’re leaving again.”
Drury moved closer, putting her hand on his shoulder. “Only because Brycen is very close to catching the bad guy and it’s too dangerous for you to be near him.”
“But you’re near him and the bad guy was caught. It was on the news.”
“The one I’m after is still out there,” Brycen said. “Your mother will come back for you when it’s over.”
Junior faced him with downturned mouth. “What about you?”
“I can come with her. But when the case is closed, I have to go back to Chicago.”
“But... I don’t want you to go.”
Brycen didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t make promises. He couldn’t say he’d call. He couldn’t say he’d come to visit. What good would that do?
“He’ll always be your friend, sweetie,” Drury said.
Junior didn’t seem to understand what that meant.
“You’ll always be my partner,” Brycen said. “I couldn’t have done what I did without your help. Now I need you to keep up that good work, okay?”
Junior thought it over a while and then reluctantly nodded.
Brycen had to smile. The kid was sure cute. More than cute. He tugged at his heartstrings too much. Leaving wouldn’t be easy.
*
In the parking lot of the trooper building, Brycen received a call from the deputy.
“Where are you?” the deputy asked.
“In the parking lot on the way inside.”
“Well, don’t come in. I thought you’d like to know Cora Parker was taken to the hospital the night after Juanita Swanson was killed.”
Brycen stopped walking. “What?”
Her case had nothing to do with the trafficking ring.
“She was shot. Preliminary analysis suggests the same gun was used in the Swanson case.”
Brycen cursed. “What the hell...?”
“What is it?” Drury asked.
“Cora was shot. She’s alive. In the hospital.”
“She’s unconscious and in critical condition,” the deputy said, expanding his explanation.
Brycen leaned his head back and shut his eyes. What could the waitress have possibly known that would threaten Carter?
Then something dawned on him, sharp and sudden. He straightened his head and fixed his gaze on Drury. Her eyes searched his in question.
“She said someone interrupted Carter the last time he went to see her,” he said. “She said the man seemed to have something urgent to say.”
“So?” Drury said as though he was only talking to her. He was only talking to her.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“Carter left the restaurant.” Brycen cut off the deputy, still talking to Drury. “He wouldn’t talk to him there, in front of anyone.” That suggested a secret conversation. What secret conversation would Carter have had that was urgent and with a strange man?
“Cora saw him,” Drury breathed. “She might be able to identify him.”
“It’s got to be our guy,” Brycen said.
If Cora could identify him...
If she didn’t die before doing so...
Chapter 13
The deputy called to inform them that Cora had awakened at the hospital. Drury reached the room door after Brycen. The deputy waited outside.
“Have you talked to her?” Brycen asked.
The deputy shook his hand and said to Drury, “Mrs. Decoteau.”
“Hello.” She found him very personable and polite and a real dot-the-I-cross-the-T kind of man.
He turned back to Brycen. “Not yet. I introduced myself and told her you were on the way.”
Drury presumed the deputy preferred Brycen do the questioning. He’d largely left Brycen unofficially in charge of the investigation ever since Carter had been exposed.
When the deputy entered the room and stood aside, Drury approached Cora’s bed with Brycen. He went to the far side of the bed and Drury stopped at Cora’s mid-section.
The woman’s eyes were closed, but when she heard them they opened tiredly, their brown vibrancy dimmed by red. Her long brown hair was up in a ponytail and draped over the white pillow.
“Who’s there,” she asked in a raw voice. And then she recognized Brycen. “You’re that detective. De
puty Chandler told me you’d be here.” Even her injured state didn’t hide her delight.
“Hello, Cora. We came as soon as we heard you were awake. Do you feel okay to talk a little?”
“Hell yes.” She took a few breaths. “Is that dirty cop in jail yet?”
“Who is a dirty cop?” Drury asked, hoping she’d give the name for confirmation. She suspected where this was going.
“Carter Nichols. I told my doctor that’s who shot me. Trooper Nichols came to see me at my home. At first I thought he was going to tell me he found my attacker. I let him in and he drew a gun. I couldn’t believe it. I was frozen with shock.” She had to pause to catch her breath again. “I asked him why and he said he had no choice. Then he shot me. ”
He must have thought he’d killed her and rushed to leave, anxious over how close authorities were to catch him.
“We’re looking for him now, Cora. There’s something else I need to ask you. Do you remember when you told me Carter came to see you at your work and someone interrupted him?”
Cora rolled her head to the side as she thought. Then she looked back at Brycen. “Yeah. A man interrupted him and he said he had to go.”
Deputy Chandler stepped forward, standing beside Drury closest to Cora’s head. “Who was the man?”
Neither she nor Brycen had a chance to fill him in.
With her eyes closed, Cora said, “I didn’t know him. I had never seen him before.”
“You said it seemed urgent, what this man needed to say to Carter,” Brycen said.
“Yes.” Cora opened her eyes and looked off as she recalled the incident. “He kept looking around all nervous and kept saying, ‘Let’s go outside.’ Trooper Nichols had to pay his bill and the man kept saying, ‘Let’s go outside.’ The man didn’t really look afraid. He seemed not to want to be seen there—or heard. I thought whatever he had to say to Trooper Nichols embarrassed him or something.”
“What did he look like?” Drury asked. “Can you describe him?”
“Yeah. He was a white man, maybe in his mid-forties, dark hair cut short.” She paused to breathe. “Average in height. He had dark circles under his eyes.”
“What color were his eyes?” Brycen asked.