Suitcase Girl (Abby Kane FBI Thriller - SG Trilogy Book 1)

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Suitcase Girl (Abby Kane FBI Thriller - SG Trilogy Book 1) Page 15

by Ty Hutchinson


  “I realize that. It’s just… how did this person know she was here with me? Only my team, the director at the shelter, and CPS were aware. That’s not a lot of people.” I shrugged. “Smells funny.”

  “Especially if she went willingly. Let’s knock on doors and see where that leads us.”

  Of course, talking to the neighbors led us nowhere. No one had seen Xiaolian or noticed a strange car or person snooping around. There were not many people who were home at the time—most were working.

  On the way back to my house, I put a call in to Reilly and gave him an update.

  “A shoe print? Not much to go on, but you got your wish, Abby. Keep me posted on your findings.”

  We stopped on the sidewalk in front of my house.

  “You think the same person who had dropped her off might have had a change of heart and came back for her?” Kang asked.

  “Maybe, but according to Xiaolian, she remembers seeing Chow’s tattoo right before she got into the suitcase.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  “Maybe she’s mistaken. Chow could very well have passed her off to another person.”

  I nodded. “You know what really bothers me? Is that they knew she was here. Makes me think someone might have been watching Xiaolian the entire time.”

  Kang rested his hands on his hips. “You mean from the moment she arrived at your home?” He looked up and down the street. “If that’s true, they could have been casing your place and waiting for the right moment.”

  A shiver ran throughout my body. This wasn’t the first time some psycho had been watching my home. There was even a break-in once. But in all those instances, I knew I was chasing a dangerous person and that there was a chance they might come after my family or me. But Xiaolian never put me in that mindset. I never once thought her staying with us would pose a threat. Maybe I had grossly miscalculated.

  “But why? Why drop her off and then take her back?” I asked.

  “Maybe she contacted someone,” Kang said. “It would explain how someone found her and why there was no break-in or struggle.”

  “Well, seeing that she was smuggled into the country, she either contacted one of our four Stanford geniuses, or she contacted the person who dropped her off at our offices, if such a person exists. Let’s pay a visit to Chow. He needs to start talking.”

  Chapter Forty

  I was glad I drove. I felt the need to let out some aggression, and getting behind the wheel of my Charger did just that. I punched the gas pedal. The rear wheels chirped, and the force pushed me back into my seat. I loved that feeling.

  “Easy, slick,” Kang said.

  “Sorry, do I need to find a bathroom so you can clean your shorts?”

  “You’re funny… funny looking.” Kang slapped his thigh repeatedly. “I got you on that one.”

  “If you say so.”

  “But seriously,” he said, still smiling, “what makes you think Chow will talk to us without his lawyer?”

  “I don’t. But if he refuses, I’ll make him call his lawyer over to his place while we wait.”

  Fifteen minutes later, we were standing outside Chow’s apartment, knocking on the door.

  “Darren Chow. This is Agent Kane with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions.”

  No response. I knocked again and repeated my request but still nothing.

  “Maybe he’s not home,” Kang said.

  I turned the doorknob just to see if the door was locked. It wasn’t. I looked up at Kang. “Should we? He might be in trouble. Perhaps a quick peek just to be sure he’s okay?”

  Kang nodded. “Good idea.”

  We entered the apartment.

  “Darren Chow. This is the FBI. Are you home? We found your front door unlocked.”

  The living room was empty and looked exactly as it had at our last visit.

  “Did he even come back here?” I asked.

  “The bedroom door is closed. He might be sleeping.”

  I started to head that way, but Kang stopped me and motioned to let him enter first. I rolled my eyes. “Seriously?”

  “What? I’m eager. I want to go in first. That’s all.”

  “Whatever.” I stepped to the side, and he entered the room first.

  Inside, there was nothing to be afraid of. No threats to be had.

  “I didn’t see that coming,” Kang said.

  “Me either.” I moved in for a closer look. Chow lay on his back with his eyes closed and a gunshot hole in the middle of his forehead.

  “Looks like he was shot at close range,” I said. “Whoever did this probably snuck in while he was sleeping.”

  “I didn’t notice any signs of forced entry at his front door,” Kang said.

  “No deadbolt. They could have easily picked the lock.”

  Kang leaned in for a closer look as well. “Doesn’t look like he’s been dead that long. Blood hasn’t coagulated.”

  “They weren’t interested in taking anything either. He’s wearing a nice watch. This has all the signs of a professional hit.”

  “They came in, did the job, and left.”

  “Dammit,” I said, resting my hands on my hips. “Chow was our connection to the person responsible for Xiaolian.”

  “That could be the reason. Maybe whoever took Xiaolian from the house is responsible; they felt the need to eliminate ties.”

  I called Agents Hansen and Pratt and told them to check on the other three. If a connection did exist between the person who’d killed Chow and taken Xiaolian, then the other three members of his crew might be in danger as well. Kang alerted SFPD.

  While we waited for the forensics team to arrive, we looked around the apartment. We saw no signs of another person being there, or of a struggle. A shoulder bag lay flat on the floor near the couch. I peeked inside and spotted a tablet.

  “We might be able to pull something off of this,” I said, pointing to the tablet. “Maybe he emailed his customer. I don’t see a phone lying around, do you?”

  “Let me check the bedroom.”

  Kang returned. “There’s a burner cell phone in his front pocket. I’ll have it added to our evidence list.”

  Once forensics arrived, Kang and I questioned the neighbors on Chow’s floor. Most of them weren’t home, and the few who were hadn’t heard anything suspicious. One even mentioned that he knew what a gunshot sounded like and would have definitely recognized that sound if he’d heard it.

  Nothing was going our way. And it was about to get worse. Hansen called to let us know that he had tracked down Sticks.

  “Does he know anything about Chow?” I asked.

  “Sticks is dead, Abby.”

  Ten minutes later, Pratt called. “I’m at Lim and Dickson’s place. They’re both dead. Gunshot to the head.”

  Not only was Xiaolian missing, the four responsible for smuggling her into the country had all been executed in the span of a couple hours.

  “Everyone connected has been wiped out,” Kang said.

  “And it might not be over.” I pulled out my phone and dialed Rosales. “It’s Agent Kane. Where are those girls from the shipping container being held?”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Alonzo told Walter to make a right at the next intersection. He continued to stare at the map on his phone, watching the blue dot move closer and closer to the pin he had dropped.

  “Here,” he said as he pointed at a building with colorful murals painted on it.

  Walter parked the Monte Carlo outside the building. Alonzo reloaded a magazine and snapped it back into his handgun. They looked at each other, nodded, and then exited the vehicle.

  Alonzo went into the building first. There was a young woman sitting at the reception desk and two other women sitting on a nearby couch, looking over paperwork. Walter kept an eye on the last two. Alonzo removed his cell phone and produced pictures of the girls from the container.

  “Where are they?” he asked the receptionist, shoving his cell phone into her fac
e.

  “Can I ask who you are?” she said with a smile. She still hadn’t noticed the gun in his other hand.

  “Where are they?” he asked once more.

  “I have to log you in first. It’s required of all visitors.”

  Alonzo looked back at Walter, and he nodded.

  Alonzo raised his gun and pulled the trigger. Her head snapped back before her body slumped in the chair.

  The sound of the gunshot jerked the women sitting on the couch to attention. One lady opened her mouth, preparing to sound a screaming alarm. Walter shot her before she finished drawing her breath.

  Blood splatter covered the lady sitting next to her. Her eyes locked on the bleeding mess. She struggled to breath, choking with each gasp.

  Walter walked up to her, raised his gun so the barrel was inches from her temple. The woman still hadn’t been able to tear her gaze away from the dead woman. He pulled the trigger and walked away.

  The brothers entered a short hallway where there were three rooms. The two on the left had the doors shut. Walter peeled off toward them. Alonzo checked the room with the door open. It was an office.

  Inside he found a woman talking quietly on the phone. The last word he heard her say before shooting her was, “Hurry.”

  Alonzo heard his brother fire his weapon. He walked back into the hall just as Walter exited a bedroom.

  “Done,” he said as he showed Alonzo the picture of the girl he’d found.

  They both eyed the stairwell leading up to a second floor.

  Forensics had yet to show up to Chow’s apartment, but a couple of officers with SFPD had. They secured the crime scene, and we headed over to women’s shelter.

  On the way over, I called the shelter. “No one’s answering,” I said.

  “You really think the girls are in danger?” Kang asked.

  “I’m not sure, but just to be safe, we should have them moved to a safer environment until we can figure out what the hell is going on here.”

  The shelter was about a ten-minute drive from our location, so we arrived fairly quickly. I parked behind a gold Monte Carlo. That was when we heard a scream from inside.

  Walter and Alonzo stood at the top of the stairs, staring down a long hall with multiple rooms on each side. Some doors were closed; others were open.

  Alonzo stepped into the first room on the right. There were two bunk beds and four girls. He looked at each one carefully, even double-checking the photos on his phone. He then shot the girl on the top right bunk. Dead. One of the girls in the room screamed.

  As he headed into the next room on the right, he heard Walter fire multiple times.

  Alonzo found five girls in the next room. Again he carefully studied their faces and compared them to the photos on his phone. Two of the girls didn’t match. Two of them did—he shot them right away. He had trouble IDing the fifth girl. He wasn’t positive if she was a match with one of the girls in the photo. She sort of looked like one of them.

  He moved in closer.

  The girl held her hands up in front of her defensively. Tears trailed the sides of her cheeks.

  Alonzo sat on the bed next to her.

  The girl shivered as if she were standing naked in the middle of a winter storm. He still wasn’t sure. Another shot rang out in the background. The girl let out a scream and cried harder. She begged him not to hurt her. Alonzo continued to compare her to a photo. He even held his phone up next to her face.

  He raised his gun.

  His eyes shifted back and forth between her and the photo.

  He breathed in and breathed out slowly.

  He pursed his lips as he mulled.

  Slowly his finger edged back on the trigger.

  Walter entered the room. “How many?”

  Alonzo answered, “I took care of four.”

  Walter then said, “We’re done. She’s not one of them.”

  Alonzo peered harder into the girl’s eyes. He still hadn’t lowered his gun, the barrel inches from her face. “Are you sure?”

  “I took care of seven. It’s over.”

  Alonzo lowered his gun. “Sorry,” he told the girl.

  Before heading inside, we called in the shooting and requested backup, but we couldn’t just sit back and wait it out. We had to move in. We heard more screaming. And gunshots.

  The first thing we saw after entering the building was the young receptionist. She was slumped over her desk, a pool of blood spread outward from her head.

  “Psst,” Kang said, gesturing toward the two motionless women on the couch. He hurried over to them and checked for pulses. He shook his head.

  I found Massey, the director of the shelter, in her office. She was missing the top of her forehead. I drew a deep breath and gripped the handle on my weapon more tightly.

  Kang appeared at the entrance to Massey’s office with two young girls by his side, each hanging on to him as if their lives depended on it. Which was entirely possible. “There’s another girl in the room next door. She’s down.”

  “The shooter might still be here,” I whispered as I pointed upward.

  Slowly we walked back out to the hallway. I took point. Kang was right behind me with the two little ones, who surprisingly were maintaining their composure. The stairs were the only way up to the second floor. I stopped at the corner and peeked around. Empty.

  “It’s clear,” I said softly.

  Kang pointed to the front door that was still wide open and told the girls to run outside

  I moved to the foot of the stairs, gun out in front. Step by step, I climbed as I peered upward. I crouched lower when I reached the landing, listening. I could hear crying. And then a loud shriek that sent a chill racing throughout my body.

  As I neared the top of the stairs, I could see down the hall. I still heard crying. Kang moved up next to me. He motioned for me to cover the rooms on the right; he would take the ones on the left.

  Cautiously we moved ahead.

  My heart thumped loudly. It had been a while since I had been in a position like this. Images of Lucy, Ryan, and Po Po popped into my head. I had a family. They counted on me being alive. Don’t get shot, Abby.

  With my back against the wall, I moved forward. Across the hall, Kang did the same. I could see inside the rooms on Kang’s side before he could, and vice versa, which allowed us to provide an extra layer of protection before just bolting into a room. This was our dance, and we performed it flawlessly.

  I peered inside the room Kang was approaching and saw a girl lying face down on the floor, motionless. I nodded for him to enter the room, and he gave me the okay to enter the room on my side.

  I found two bunk beds. Two girls were dead. Two were alive.

  I hurried the girls out of the room, telling them to run downstairs and get out of the building. Kang entered the hallway with one girl and sent her on her way.

  We continued on to the next two rooms. In my heart, I hoped I wouldn’t find any more victims. That hope faded quickly as I spotted another motionless girl in the room Kang was nearing. There were more to be found in the room on my side of the hall.

  With each room we cleared, the tally of deaths grew. It was clear that some girls were spared, even Asian ones, and some weren’t. My guess was that the girls who’d been shot were part of the group smuggled into the US on that container; at least age-wise they were in line with what Hansen had told me. I wasn’t that familiar with their faces.

  The girls who survived were in a state of shock, crying and unable to move or speak on their own.

  There was only one way out, and no one had snuck past us. Where are you?

  Kang and I stood in the hall. Two rooms left to clear. The one on my side had its door closed. The one on Kang’s side didn’t. We dealt with his room first. Two dead.

  We then faced the closed door of the last room. The shooter had to be inside. I leaned in and listened. I heard nothing. Kang wanted to wait for backup. The sound of sirens grew louder. The smart thing to do
would have been to let a tactical team take down the room.

  But that’s not how I roll.

  I adjusted my ballistics vest and motioned for Kang to ready himself. I soft-checked the doorknob. It was unlocked. He leaned up against the wall next to the door. I stood on the opposite side of the door. With the door sandwiched between us, I reached for the knob once more.

  One.

  I raised my weapon.

  Two.

  I braced myself.

  Three.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Inside we found a single girl. She sat on the floor in the corner of the room with her knees pulled up against her chest and her arms wrapped around them. I checked on her while Kang inspected an open window. He peered outside.

  “I don’t see anyone,” he said. “If he did exit from here, he probably climbed down. It’s doable.”

  He brought his head back inside.

  “Are you okay, sweetie?” I asked the frightened girl.

  She didn’t respond, just rocked back and forth.

  “Listen, you’re safe now. No one will hurt you.”

  “I’m heading back downstairs to meet with the tact team.”

  I nodded and then helped the girl to her feet. “Are you okay?”

  Finally, she spoke: “I think so.”

  I looked her over and didn’t see any visible injuries. Right away I knew she wasn’t with the group of girls from the container—she was Latino, probably no older than ten.

  I pointed at the window. “Did you see someone climb out?”

  She nodded. “A bad man. He was very scary.”

  “I know, but I’ll tell you something. I won’t stop chasing after him until I catch him and lock him up in jail. Can you tell me what he looked like?”

  “He looked Japanese.”

  “Hmm, do you think he might have been Chinese?” I figured she probably couldn’t tell the difference, but being that the girls were from China, I had to assume the person who came after them might be Chinese as well. Of course, I could just as easily have been wrong.

 

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