Reunited with the P.I.

by Anna J. Stewart

  “A trench coat?” Vince asked. Cal Hobard.

  “Yeah. I figured maybe it was a little something on the side, you know. Even though she didn’t seem the type.”

  “She wasn’t here very often then?” Simone sighed.

  “No, she was regular, just odd hours,” the woman said. “Three, four times a week she’d come in, he’d meet her, then they’d leave separate. Poor thing probably wasn’t getting much out of it, if you know what I mean?”

  “What room would that be?” Vince asked.

  “Twelve. The private cottage in the back. Said they wanted to be out of the way. Look, it’s paid up through the month. Always cash. First time she paid, rest of the time, I’d get money left in the slot at the start of every month.”

  “I don’t suppose you’d let us take a look inside her room, would you?” Vince asked. “We want to be able to tell her family we explored every possibility. Give them some closure.”

  “Don’t have no key.” Her brows went up. “They paid extra for a special lock. Not that you’d see that as a deterrent, I’m guessing. But what I don’t see, I don’t know. You know?”

  “We do. Appreciate your help.” Vince pocketed the picture, gave the woman a smile and pushed the door open for Simone.

  “Butter wouldn’t melt in that mouth of yours,” Simone said. “See? You can be charming with more folks than just me.”

  “How else do you think I get what I want?” They walked past the weather-beaten doors, rickety, rusted-out cars parked in front, numbers hanging crooked from barely there nails. “Number twelve. Must be... Yeah, this is it.” He pointed to the freestanding building at the far end of the lot. “Definitely out of sight.” He walked backward for a while, getting the lay of the land. Good line of sight. Easy to pick out cars and people who didn’t belong. “Looks like you’d have to know it was here to know it was here.”

  “Not a place someone comes to for a good time.”

  Vince bent down, pulled out his lock picks and set to work on the warped green door. There were bars on the two windows on either side, one of the frames sagging.

  “Don’t suppose you’d be willing to teach me how to do that.” Simone dipped down to observe.

  His hand slipped. “I’m sorry?”

  “Well, since you’ve taken an interest in my work, it seems only fitting I should do the same. Besides, who knows when I might need to pick a lock to gain access?”

  “You do know these picks don’t come with a warrant or subpoena, right?” And that the set happened to be illegal in most states.

  “Ha-ha. You want to speed it up there? I’m covered in a layer of ick.” She slicked a hand down her arm.

  The lock popped. “Wait.” He held out his arm to stop her before she barreled in. To be safe, he pulled out his gun and pushed her behind him. “Let me clear it first.”

  “My knight in shining leather. I can take care of myself, you know.”

  “Take those shooting lessons I gave you and then we can talk. Until then, you follow me.”

  * * *

  “Someone had an extra serving of testosterone in his bran flakes this morning.” Simone hugged her arms around her chest as he stepped inside the tiny cabin-like structure. When she heard the safety on his gun click, she took that as a sign and entered.

  Her brain went numb. Her eyes took a second to adjust to the odd lighting as a dull mechanical buzz echoed in her ears. “What is this place?” A sleazy hookup spot or grungy getaway it was not. Until now she hadn’t even ruled out a drug den. Instead, she’d walked into some kind of headquarters that might have put NASA to shame.

  Vince motioned her forward so he could close the door. The deep hum of computers filled the room. HD screens, CPUs and printers lined the far wall. The bed was piled high with files and paper. The mirrored closet doors had been papered with what looked like a family tree, except where there should be branches of cousins and aunts and uncles, there were criminal mug shots, inmate numbers, surveillance photos. Some names and faces she knew; she’d seen the federal case alerts cross her desk. Others were local, like the Stark twins who had taken to robbing downtown liquor stores two years ago.

  “Congressman Nate Fulton’s on here.” Simone dropped her bag and bent down, tracing her fingers over the local politician’s photo taken at a fundraising event. “He was just elected last year. And Representative Rebecca Railston from San Francisco. There are rumors she’s going to run for mayor in the next election. Vince, there are businesspeople and politicians from all over the state on this map. Big names from...” She broke off, her eyes landing on a familiar face dead center of everyone else’s, with green lines leading to him: Paul Denton. “Do you see this? I was right. Denton is part of something bigger. This is some kind of crime syndicate that—” She stopped and noticed as Vince moved in, his eyes pinned to the grainy black-and-white photo at the top of the tree, the name Alik Babin written beneath it. “Who is that?” she asked.

  “The head of the snake. And here’re his fangs.” Vince stabbed a finger into the face below Babin’s, the gnarled nose settling into her nightmares. “Isaac Kruse.”

  “Kruse?” Simone searched her memory. “The man who murdered Sabrina Walker? The man you—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the thought.

  “Kruse never said a word after he was arrested.” She heard the rage simmering in his voice. “The detectives couldn’t prove he was working for someone despite what they believed. Babin isn’t someone you squeal on.”

  “And I’m sure Kruse’s broken jaw didn’t help.” She placed a hand on Vince’s back, noting the taut muscles.

  “Babin’s one of those myths in law enforcement,” Vince said. “Every agency’s had him on their radar at one point or another. Back when I was working security, his name came up a few times as a possible threat to clients. He’s international, got his hands in everything from illegal arms to drugs to murder for hire.” He stopped, swallowed. “Human trafficking.”

  Why hadn’t she ever heard of this guy? “Is that why Kruse had Sabrina Walker?”

  “Could never prove it. As if proving it would have made any difference,” Vince said. “She still would have been dead.”

  This was not a door she needed him walking back through at the moment. “I wonder what this had to do with Mara.”

  “Yeah. I’ll search here. You start in the bathroom.”

  She followed his instructions and stepped into the midsized bath. She really hoped the dark beige tile was a decorating choice and not the result of a lack of cleaning. “I should remember to keep gloves in my bag.” She rummaged through the cabinets, finding nothing more than a bottle of painkillers and a stash of feminine hygiene products.

  Simone wiped sweat off her forehead and lifted her hair off the back of her neck. The humidity in this room felt stifling. She looked up at the long narrow window along the top of the shower. She stood on the edge of the tub and searched the ledge, popped the window latch and pushed it open. Stale air blew in. Outside she could hear someone throwing a bucket of water against a building. At least she hoped it was water. “Gah. I’m going to need a tetanus shot after this.” She turned, grabbed the shower rod and put a hand on her hip as he pushed the door open. “Hey, you’re wearing gloves.”

  He dug into his jacket pocket and handed her a pair of black latex gloves.

  “Thanks, but I’ve finished. Consider your knighthood relinquished. I’m not finding anything in here.” She climbed down and snapped the gloves on.

  “Did you check the toilet?”

  “Strangely enough it did not occur to me.”

  “The tank, Simone.” He hefted the lid off the tank, set it on the seat. “Well, here’s a start.” He pulled out a plastic bag containing what looked like copies of phone records. He grabbed a towel and wiped off the bag, then shoved it into the
inside pocket of his jacket and put everything back.

  “You can’t take that, it’s evidence,” Simone whispered as if someone could hear them. “Honestly, Vince, is there anything you won’t do—”

  “You have your monsters, I have mine.”

  “This isn’t a contest. We can do this within the confines of the law.”

  “Men like Babin are rarely held responsible for their crimes.” The loathing in his eyes as he looked at her made her shiver. “I would have thought recent events would have proven that to you. Your system doesn’t work.”

  She tried not to take offense. “All that’s been proven to me is that we have to work harder. Smarter. And stand in their way.”

  “Mara was standing in their way, Simone.” That pinprick stare of his may as well have been a knife in her heart. “How’d that work out for her?”

  He walked out of the room and left stony silence in his wake. She couldn’t argue with him, not now and not about this. But his animosity toward everything she’d put her faith in these last two decades only reminded her of how far apart they truly were. For her, the law, the system, was a guideline. For him? A challenge. And Vince Sutton never met a challenge he didn’t like.

  “Are we any closer to figuring out exactly what this place is?” she asked when she joined him.

  “Some kind of information-clearing station.” He motioned to the open drawers of the desk. “Found a stack of fake IDs in a drawer in the nightstand, some with Mara’s picture on them.”

  “If Mara’s even her real name,” she said as the front door opened. Vince moved in front of her, blocking her from whoever had entered.

  “It’s not,” a male voice said.

  Simone grabbed Vince’s arm and pushed him aside so she could look directly in Cal Hobard’s shifty eyes. “Her name was Natalie Subrov.” He stared at Vince, and then Simone, his expression easing into exhaustion. “She was one of my agents.”

  Chapter 16

  “One of your agents?” Vince asked as Simone attempted to worm her way around him. “Exactly what agency would that be?” He kept his arms out, unconvinced Cal Hobard was anything other than an adversary. “And what was with the cat-and-mouse chase this morning?”

  “Relax, Sutton.” Cal closed the door and shoved his hands in his pockets. Vince’s hand immediately went to the butt of his gun. “After the week I’ve had, I don’t have the energy to tackle anyone, not even you. And don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t need to follow anyone.”

  He gestured to the blinking red light on the top of one of the monitors Vince, in his distraction over Kruse and Babin, hadn’t noticed.

  “Take a seat.” Hobard motioned to the chairs at the computer bank. “You, too, Simone. It’s time we had an honest conversation.”

  “You didn’t answer his question.” Simone followed Vince’s lead and sat. “What agency are you with?”

  He pulled out his wallet and flashed his badge. “FBI. I’m head of a special task force on organized crime and political corruption.” He moved a stack of files out of the way and sat on the edge of the bed. “We’ve been building a case against Alik Babin for the better part of three years, placing agents in various pockets of his operation. Mara, Natalie,” he corrected with a slight wince, “was our ticket to Denton. I owe you an apology, Simone. You were never supposed to be involved in this.”

  “Yet here I am.” Simone crossed her legs.

  “Track the money, take down the boss, is that it?” Vince covered her hands with his and squeezed as a sign of unity. “What went wrong?”

  “The DA’s gall bladder,” Simone said. “That’s when this all went sideways, right? He was supposed to be the one Mara approached with her so-called evidence, but Ward ended up with sepsis.”

  “We’d planned to wait until he was back in the office,” Hobard confirmed. “But then we got word Babin was going to skip the country for Venezuela. Filing the charges against his money man was the only way to freeze connected accounts and keep Babin where we could get to him.”

  “Because there’s no extradition with Venezuela,” Simone clarified for Vince. “So, what? I became the patsy in the office dangling false evidence in front of the judiciary?”

  “There’s nothing false in the evidence you were given, Simone.” Cal’s resigned voice knocked a dent in Vince’s anger. “Yes, it was meant to be used against Denton privately, but if anything, your dedication to the case gave it an authenticity we couldn’t have predicted. Lawson was supposed to offer Denton a deal to testify against Babin and end it before it got very far. Your refusal to do so—”

  “I got in the way,” she interrupted.

  “We readjusted because you got us the one thing we couldn’t, extra time. Thanks to you we were able to gather even more information from the inside. As of now, all but three of my agents are in the clear with enough intel on Babin and his operation to bring him down for good. All we have to do is tilt that first domino.” He flicked a finger.

  “That domino being Denton,” Vince said. His head began to throb. The smell of gasoline was beginning to get to him. “Is there still a deal to be made?”

  “So Mar—Natalie was a decoy,” Simone said. “She never had any intention of testifying against Denton. How could she? She’d have been lying under oath the second she uttered her name.” Simone raked her hands through her hair. “That’s why you were so determined I make a deal with Denton. You didn’t want Mara on the stand.”

  Cal leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “Ward couldn’t push for a dismissal or a deal any harder without looking suspicious, but he also didn’t want you taking the fall for suborning perjury.”

  “Simone didn’t know,” Vince cut in.

  “It wouldn’t matter.” Simone retook his hand and squeezed. “It would have all come out at some point and given how adamant I was about not cutting a deal with Denton, no one would believe I wasn’t in on it.”

  Vince balked. “Some system you believe in.”

  “We argued about it that night,” Cal said. “Natalie was sure there was something more to the case. She’d picked up on something we couldn’t get a lock on, but was determined to figure it out before court convened that morning. She didn’t want to let you down, Simone.” Cal gave her a weak smile. “She admired you quite a bit.”

  “So what happened that night?” Simone asked. “What changed?”

  “Near as we can tell, she was tailed when she left Sacramento. We thought we’d taken care of it a few weeks before, but clearly we missed something or someone. Babin’s got people everywhere, in law enforcement, prisons, DA’s offices.” He cringed. “Senate offices.”

  Simone’s expression went cold. “We’ve been through everyone’s records,” she said. “The only person who raised a red flag in my office was you. Can you believe this?” She gaped at Vince.

  Vince hesitated. “I haven’t decided,” he admitted. He considered himself a pretty good lie detector and while he might think Cal Hobard wasn’t the most aboveboard person he’d ever met, he wasn’t ready to dismiss what Hobard had said. Whether any of it was true remained to be seen.

  “I have to agree with you, Simone.” Cal’s comment surprised Vince. “We’ve run extensive background checks on everyone at your office since you unexpectedly took the case. We needed to make sure nothing got in your way from the inside.”

  “Then what have you found?” Vince asked. “Aside from a couple of crooked politicians connected to Denton and Babin?” He pointed to the photographs and Congressman Fulton in particular. “Personally, I’d like to know. I voted for that guy.”

  “You mean Nate?” Hobard got to his feet and approached the wall. “He’s not the one we had eyes on. In fact, Nate’s been part of the secret committee overseeing the investigation. No, this is who we suspect.” He tapped his fingers against the eleg
ant, silver-haired woman in the background.

  “You have got to be kidding me.” Simone’s feet hit the floor. “That’s Senator Beverly Wakeman. She’s one of the biggest anti-crime voices in Congress.”

  “She also has a son who can’t seem to find anything but trouble. That’s him, there.” Cal motioned to the young man standing beside the senator. “Drugs, gambling, prostitutes. She’s spent most of her life trying to protect him.”

  “He get in deep with Babin?” Vince asked not really needing an answer.

  “That’s the evidence Natalie was looking for. About a week before she was killed, Natalie was convinced she’d cracked the encryption code on Babin’s server. When I left her that night, she’d started downloading dozens of files. Maybe if I’d stayed she’d still be alive.”

  “Or both of you would be dead.” Simone got to her feet and started to pace. “You don’t have those files, do you?”

  “I do not.” He drew his gaze slowly around the room. “We’ve looked here, searched her apartment—”

  “So that was you who cleaned her place?” Simone accused.

  “What?” Cal blinked. “No. We searched, but left it as we found it. If there was one thing Natalie excelled at it was living in chaos. She thrived on it.”

  “Someone gave that place a thorough once-over,” Vince said. “Didn’t leave a print in sight. Not hers, not anyone’s that the lab techs found.”

  “I read the report. I also read the lab results that came in this morning. The blood on the crystal fragment you found in her trash came back as male, no relation to Natalie.”

  “Our cleaner?” Simone asked.

  “Makes as much sense as anything else does right now. So what now?” Vince asked Hobard. “Where does the case stand?”