Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1)

by Terry Keys

  “Hilary, I got some info I have to run with. I’m going to be out later than I expected. Let your grandparents know, okay? And keep an eye on your sister for me. Everything okay there?”

  “Yeah, Dad. Just do what you promised. I love you.”

  I drove downtown and parked on a side street within view of city hall. I sat in my car, waiting, my laptop on the passenger seat. Some time ago, I’d downloaded the software I needed to monitor communications I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to tap into. Tracy had come through with the tap and hooked me into the system, so now it was just a waiting game. After an hour, I finally got something. Someone from Carter’s office was making an international call. I perked up and listened in.

  “Abu, we have a problem.”

  It was the mayor! My heart pounded as I adjusted my earpiece, not wanting to miss a syllable.

  “Hello, my American friend. We were never to talk on the phone, so why are you calling me?”

  Abu’s accent was thick, but his intent was quite clear.

  “I wouldn’t have called you unless it was urgent,” Carter said. “A reporter here found out what’s going on. She’s out of the picture now, but I don’t know if she had backups to her report or who she might have told.”

  “Friend, you are obviously looking for the wrong person. I mistake you for someone else,” Abu said. “I am bad with names and voices. Unless you travel to Dubai so I might see your face, I am afraid I don’t know who you are. Have a good evening.”

  I heard Carter slam down his phone. Less than two minutes passed before he made the first of several calls requesting an emergency meeting with his private staff. Within an hour, Carter left his office and headed down the street to a popular local bar. I followed a discreet distance behind. I had no ears inside, so I just watched and waited, trying to sort out what I’d learned so far. Carter’s phone call to Abu confirmed at least some of what the man had told me at the old feed store. Miranda’s disappearance, it seemed, was a direct result of her report; I was certain of that now, too. With the information I had, including Carter’s partial admission to being involved in Miranda’s disappearance, I felt I could bring Wilcrest in.

  An hour later, I learned Carter and his crew had booked flights to Dubai and would be in transit soon. Because I’d flown worldwide speaking at forensics and crime scene seminars, my international flight status and passport information were already in place. Still, I knew I could not simply fly to Dubai without telling my boss. I would indeed have to bring Wilcrest up to speed.

  I grabbed my phone to call Wilcrest.

  “Cap? Porter here. I need you to meet me in an hour at the park.” I didn’t wait for a response, but simply hung up.

  I drove to the park and waited. I’d changed my mind about getting my hands on Carter’s laptop—for now. He’d probably take it with him anyway. Plus, I needed to be in Dubai when Carter arrived. It’d be much harder to track him otherwise. I needed to stay one step ahead of him. I sat in my car on the east side of the park, waiting for Wilcrest. In no time at all, he pulled his car up behind mine and slid into the passenger seat next to me.

  “David, what’s going—?”

  “Cap, listen. I don’t have much time. I got a call from someone who wants to remain nameless. I don’t even know his name. I met him in . . . well, it doesn’t matter right now. He told me Carter was involved in Miranda’s disappearance.”

  “David? Everyone knows you don’t like Carter. You got a vendetta against the guy or what? What do you have? Don’t tell me you called me out for this.”

  “Just listen, please. I told you I don’t have much time.” I placed the laptop on the console, opened the audio file, and hit the play button.

  I watched the captain’s face as he listened to the conversation I’d recorded between the mayor and Abu. He was a hard man to read, but I could tell he was soaking in every word.

  “That enough for you?” I asked when the recording ended.

  Cap frowned. “Where did you get that?”

  “I don’t have time to explain all that now. I have to go home and grab a few things and fly out to Dubai tonight.”

  “Dubai?” Cap said, his voice rising an octave. “Why Dubai, Porter?”

  “That’s where the money is going, and that‘s where Carter is going next.”

  “I don’t know how you do it, Porter, but I guess you’re the best for a reason. What else do you need from me? I don’t like being left out of the loop, but I suppose you had your reasons. Go get him.”

  “I need a warrant for his house. I need access to everything he has access to. I’ll definitely need Fingers on this. I know where Carter’s private laptop is kept. I’ll have to get it, but this has to be on a need-to-know basis. The judge and the DA are both on that short list. I gotta ride solo on this a little longer, at least until I know who I can trust. I don’t need word getting out about this yet. Like I always say, sometimes it’s good to be the best, but being lucky sure don’t hurt.”

  “You didn’t get a tap on John Carter’s phone by luck, David. I’ll work on those warrants for you. You have Fingers’ number, so call him. Now get outta here.”

  I sped home to tell the girls I needed to leave for a few days. I wasn’t sure how I’d break it to them.

  As luck would have it, I found both girls and my parents gathered in the kitchen, a batch of freshly baked brownies cooling on the counter. Karen came running the minute she spotted me.

  “I may have a break in Mommy’s case,” I said, untangling myself from my youngest daughter’s embrace. “I’m not saying I know where she is, but I think I’m getting closer. The break in the case won’t come from here. I’ll have to go and get it, so I’ll be gone for a few days. Your grandparents will be here while I’m gone.”

  “Dad, do you have to go?” Hilary asked.

  It had been a long time since I’d seen my oldest looking so vulnerable.

  “Yes. It’s the only way to get what I need.”

  I hugged them both. Then, I went to my room, threw Miranda’s Nikon, a change of clothes, and my laptop into my backpack, and headed out.

  .

  18

  “Fingers, Porter here,” I told him over the phone. “Got something good for you to work on; it’s right up your alley.”

  “Hey, my friend! I was just breaking into the World Bank,” a gruff voice replied. “I was, like, fifteen digits away. Thank you for keeping me down again. What’s up?”

  “You better be behaving yourself, before I have to run you back in.”

  “You wouldn’t do that, ’cause then you couldn’t use me for shit like this!”

  “You got me there. Listen, I have reason to believe John Carter is helping to fund an illegal sex slave business in Dubai. I’m nearly one hundred percent sure of it. I already have some decent evidence, but what I need is damning evidence. Air tight, you know?”

  “So what exactly do you want from me?”

  “What I need from you is his itinerary, which is probably on his city computer,” I explained. “He’s a public official, so I’m sure it’s detailed so he can be tracked down in case of emergency. I need to know what hotel he’s staying in, who he’s meeting, where, and what time. Everyone worries about being followed, so I’m going to be in front of him. I’m just about to board a plane headed for Dubai now, so I’ll beat him there. I need the information as soon as you get it. I have a plan, but I can’t work it until I get that info from you.”

  “I’m on it, Porter,” Fingers replied, his voice tinged with excitement. “Now I get to do some legal hacking. Well, more legal than what I’d be doing otherwise.”

  “Okay, just hurry.”

  I disconnected and went over my plan in my head yet again. I had worked it out down to the very last detail. I needed this trip to tie Carter and his goons to Dubai—something other than computer records, which could be falsified. I wanted something concrete enough that twelve jurors would have no choice but to send him away for a ver
y long time.

  The flight to Dubai took just over sixteen hours. I traveled so much doing seminars that I always had enough frequent flyer miles to upgrade to first class, which was nice. Though I had napped a bit on the plane, my plans and thoughts of Miranda had constantly played through my mind. After we landed, it didn’t take me long to shake off the cobwebs and get going. I had a mission awaiting me. I gathered my backpack and disembarked. After going through customs at Dubai International Airport, I found a café advertising free Wi-Fi, ordered a cup of coffee, and powered up my laptop. I nearly shouted in relief when I saw the email from Fingers.

  He’d done it again. Now I could take the coordinates he provided from Carter’s itinerary and plan his route a step ahead of him. I nearly laughed when I saw what hotel he had booked. I downed my coffee and headed outside to get a taxi.

  “Take me to the Ritz-Carlton,” I told the cabdriver. At this point, I didn’t care what this trip would cost me. I had Carter’s schedule. Now I knew his every move.

  Carter had a room reserved on the second floor. I even had the room number. He had arranged for a private car to take him on his appointed rounds; I did the same. I called the car fleet and arranged for a private vehicle for twenty-four hours, starting tomorrow morning at six a.m.

  When we arrived at the Ritz, I paid the driver and walked inside the contemporary structure with its limestone façade, exquisitely tiled floors, modern furniture, and classy décor. After registering and parting with a good deal of money—thank you, credit card—I walked to the elevator bank and pushed the button that would take me to the seventh floor. I had requested a room on that floor so the chances of the two of us crossing paths were reduced. I used a computer program Fingers had told me about to reprogram my room key to allow me access to the room on the second floor.

  Carter was not due to arrive at the hotel for several more hours, so I left my room, returned to the elevator, and made my way to his room. The hallway was empty, so I swiped the card, waited for the click and green light, and let myself in. Next came the task of setting up audio and video surveillance. I ran a tap from the phone line and set up my recording devices, all linking back to my computer. After a thorough double check, I headed back upstairs to my room.

  Now I would wait.

  I watched from my room window as Carter’s vehicle pulled up to the hotel. With Miranda’s long-lens camera, I snapped photographs of the crew getting out and walking into the hotel. I knew it would take a few minutes for him to check in and take the elevator to the second floor. I moved to my computer, laying open on the bed, and activated the audio mikes I had placed in his room. Carter’s meeting with Abu was scheduled for that evening. This was a short trip for Carter, right to the point. From the looks of his itinerary, he had scheduled to meet with Abu in his hotel room. Moments later, I was able to listen to what was happening in Carter’s room.

  “Hey, boss, want me to meet Abu down in the lobby when he arrives?”

  “No, he can meet us here. I don’t want anyone to see us meeting Abu,” I heard Carter reply.

  I listened to Carter talk, hoping to get something I could use to help bury him. If Wilcrest had secured the warrants, everything would stand in court. If he hadn’t, the public outcry from the evidence, conveniently leaked to the press, would force him out of office anyway.

  “We have less than an hour until Abu arrives,” Carter said. “Let’s go downstairs and get some food.”

  I knew this might be the only chance I had to get my hands on Carter’s laptop. I waited ten minutes, listening carefully to be certain no one had remained behind. Then I hurried down to Carter’s room, swiped my keycard again, and slipped inside. As I scanned the room for the laptop, I heard a keycard in the door. I dashed into the bathroom and stepped into the tub, drawing the shower curtain closed behind me. I unholstered my gun, my heart beating wildly as I clicked off the safety.

  I held my breath as someone rolled open the closet door and rummaged about, hangers clanking. Just as quickly, the person retreated. When I heard the click of the room door, I climbed from the bathtub, took one last look around, and made my escape. I headed to the stairs and exited on the third floor. From there, I took the elevator back to my floor.

  I didn’t have time to search thoroughly for Carter’s laptop, which was likely password protected anyway. That would be yet another job for Fingers when I returned to the States. Maybe he could hack into Carter’s laptop from a remote location.

  I listened in as Carter and his men returned to their room less than fifteen minutes later, one of the crew complaining about the dinner hours.

  “Who wants to wait until nine o’clock to eat dinner?” one of them asked.

  “Shut up,” Carter snapped. “Let’s get ready. Abu is coming through the lobby now.”

  I listened with rapt attention and heard the double knock on the door.

  “Don’t ever call me on a cell phone again,” Abu said as he stormed into the room.

  “I told you we had a serious issue. What was I supposed to do, email you?” Carter replied.

  “How did this American reporter find out about this? What is her story?”

  My heart thumped in my chest. It was true. Miranda had uncovered a scandal.

  “Like I said, Abu, she’s been taken care of. She’s dead now, so she’s not a problem.”

  Dead? Miranda was dead?

  “She was working on an expose,” Carter continued. “I don’t know who she told or if her files are on a flash drive somewhere.”

  “It seems you do have a problem then,” Abu growled. “I am not certain what I can do to help or why you are even involving me. Where is your other man? You came with four the last time.”

  “I fired him. Had to cut back my staff.”

  “You American idiot! What makes you think he won’t talk?” Abu hissed.

  “He won’t talk. It’d mean jail time for him too,” Carter replied. “Plus, I threatened his family. Trust me, we don’t have to worry about Tony Strat.”

  Now I had a name for my informant.

  “Have you searched the home of this reporter?” Abu asked. “How can you be sure you are not being followed?”

  “No, we haven’t searched her home. Her husband is one of the best detectives on the planet. And no, it’s not possible I was followed. No one even knows I left the country except my office staff. Even if someone knew I was leaving, I’d have no reason to be followed, Abu.”

  “Your stupidity is incredible!” Abu said. “So do you not think this cop is going to figure out you idiots had his wife killed? You think he is going to let it go? This meeting is over, as is our business with you.

  “Abu—”

  “I cannot do business in this matter. My boutiques have run without problems for ten years, and you threaten everything I do in only a couple.”

  “Abu, don’t be hasty,” Carter implored. “I just need some time to sort this out. Don’t worry, friend, this will all blow over soon.”

  “You play this game like an amateur,” Abu said. “Was this room scanned for bugs?”

  “Bugs?” Carter asked.

  I heard shuffling. “Look what I have here a scanning device, you fool!”

  A moment later, I heard a high-pitched alarm.

  “You idiots!” Abu yelled.

  “Porter! It must be Porter,” Carter said. “He won’t be too hard to find.”

  “You Americans never cease to amaze me. If he is the one who set up this equipment, he knows we’re on to him,” Abu said.

  Abu was right. My mission had now changed. I had gotten the photographs and the audio recordings. The laptop would have to wait. My next goal was to make it out of Dubai alive.

  19

  “Go quickly to the front desk,” Carter ordered one of his men. “Find out what room David Porter is in. Now!”

  “You must find and kill this man!” Abu said. “I do not want my name associated with this foul play.”

  Time to leave. I clos
ed the laptop, shoved everything into my backpack, and quickly left the room. I walked past the stairs and the guest elevator bank, and headed for the service elevator at the end of the hall. I pressed the button for the basement. When I reached the bottom, I stepped out cautiously, hugging the wall that led from the elevator to the laundry area. I spied a cement ramp that led to street level and sprinted up. With a quick glance both ways, I headed across the street, hailing a cab as I ran. One of Carter’s men spotted me as a taxi pulled to the curb.

  “I got Porter getting into a cab! I’m going after him!” I heard a man yell.

  I leapt into the cab, glancing out the back window. Carter’s man was dodging traffic in his effort to get across the street.

  “Go! Go!” I yelled. “Don’t stop at the light.”

  Just then, two rounds came through the back window of the cab. One of the bullets caught the driver in the shoulder. He yelped and lost control of the car. It jumped a curb near a corner.

  I jumped out of the car as it sideswiped a lamppost, stumbling to get my feet under me just before the cab crashed into two parked cars. Seconds later, it exploded into a fireball. I ducked instinctively, feeling the sting as shards of flying glass nicked my face and arms. Fortunately, I was far enough away from the cab to avoid being struck by any major debris.

  I looked behind me; one of Carter’s men was still giving chase. Dusk was approaching, and I hoped I could avoid them and use the cover of darkness for protection as I tried to make my way back to the airport. I couldn’t go to the cops, because I was certain a billionaire like Abu would have several of them, if not the entire force, under his control.

  I ducked into an alley and ran to the nearest doorway. I stood ramrod straight against the building, blending into the shadows as I pulled my gun. My pursuer followed me into the alley and came charging in my direction. As he ran by me, I put one dead center. He dropped instantly.

  I looked down at the dead man and noticed a walkie-talkie attached to his belt. I grabbed it and thumbed the tab.