Dead Heat

by Allison Brennan

  “Who?”

  “I’m having a difficult time trusting you, Lucy. You told the DEA and the FBI where the information I gave you came from.”

  “You didn’t say not to.”

  “I didn’t think it had to be said.”

  “And you don’t want me to share the name of your contact.”

  “It could get him killed.”

  “I won’t say anything.”

  Kane hesitated, then said, “Padre. Father Francis Cardenas, but everyone calls him Padre. He’s tight with Jack.”

  Lucy had never met Father Francis, but she knew of him.

  “Now send me the picture of that little girl and I’ll get back to you.”

  He hung up, even though Lucy had more questions.

  Then he called back ten seconds later. She said, “That was fast.”

  “You distracted me. I have information. If you’re marked, it’s because you’re close.”

  “I figured that out. But close to what?”

  “Someone thinks you know how to shut their operation down. That means you found the key.”

  “Are you talking metaphorically?”

  He sighed. “I forget you’re a damn novice.”

  “Not as much as you think,” she mumbled.

  “An operation like Trejo’s—small, tight—has a key person. That person connects everyone else. Without them, everything comes to a halt. It’s always someone on the inside. A cop, usually.”

  “Or someone with access to the boys?” she asked.

  “How are the boys connected?”

  “They were all in foster care.”

  “Same home?”

  “No. Not even the same counselor. But all CPS caseworkers can pull any records from the system. They have access to the kids and to the parents. I have to go.”

  She hung up this time, sent Kane the photo of Bella, then turned to Ryan. “I think I know who the key is. Who I got close to. Charlie DeSantos.”

  “Michael’s CPS caseworker?”

  “It has to be him. He had access to my car while I was talking to Jenny. Or maybe he even planted it while I was in Starbucks, after being followed on Monday.” She frowned, thinking. “Or while I was at Saint Catherine’s.”

  “I’ll call Juan, but we’ll need evidence. Do you have anything but your gut?”

  “No.” But it was the only thing that made sense. He’d come to them, insinuated himself in the investigation. She’d kept him at arm’s length, but also filled him in on the status of Michael—and she’d told him about Richie Diaz.

  And he’d been the one to tell her that Jenny Mendez was Richie’s counselor. There was no reason to do that, except to divert her attention. To make her doubt Jenny.

  Ryan typed into his phone. “Okay, I sent Zach a message. Deeper background, surveillance starting now, and I’ll call Juan when we get a second.” He looked up from his phone. “So what was that call about?”

  She didn’t know what she should say. She hated being deceptive, but Kane had been upset that she’d told her boss that he’d shared information. It wasn’t a secret what RCK did, or that she would have access to the information through Sean, her brothers, or Kane. Still, she kept it vague. “My contact wanted Bella’s picture.”

  “Kane Rogan.”

  “I guess I shouldn’t have told Juan and Brad he was my contact.”

  “Yes, you should. You can’t play that game. And he shouldn’t ask you to. You work for the government, he doesn’t.”

  “He has access to far more intel than we do.”

  “That is true. But it’s a big dark-gray area.”

  Brad walked over to them. “Sorry that took so long. The guys down here tracked down the ex-girlfriend’s place. The problem is that we stand out. Two agents are dressed down and hanging in the area and confirmed that Sanchez was seen going into the house at dawn this morning, and he didn’t come out.”

  “Did they get a visual on Bella?”

  “Negative. The girlfriend left for work at ten; he should be there alone with his hostage. We have Nicole and a local guy sitting in the restaurant and they have eyes on Peña. We’re going to do this now.”

  The situation was far from ideal. If they stormed the house, they put Bella in harm’s way. Sanchez could use her as a shield. If this turned into a standoff, Bella’s life was in greater danger.

  They started toward the tactical van. Lucy told Brad her theory about DeSantos.

  “Proof?”

  “No, but my squad is working on it.”

  “I’ve known DeSantos practically since I’ve been in the San Antonio office. He seems solid. What about the girl? Mendez? I’ve never worked with her before, she’s new. Started two years ago, right? About the time Sanchez started recruiting these boys.”

  “DeSantos insinuated himself into the investigation. He was on the scene real quick—the same day we put the BOLO out on Michael Rodriguez. And something he said to me that day seemed off—he was in the office on Saturday? Not usual working hours for CPS. Jenny was extremely put out that I wanted her to meet with me on Sunday afternoon. He also gave me information that was only partly accurate, about Jenny being Richard Diaz’s counselor. She inherited him, and he disappeared shortly thereafter. She said she’d never met him, and I believe her. And,” she added, almost as an afterthought, “Jenny works for CPS because she used to be in the system. She has two sisters, one a prosecutor and one a cop. I don’t see her working with the drug cartels.”

  Brad absorbed everything she said. “And her past also makes her prime recruitment material for people like Trejo.” He paused. “I don’t want to believe it, but I’ve seen it before.” He pulled open the doors from the back of the tactical van.

  “Seen what before?” Archer asked.

  “Corrupt public officials. Cops. Even federal agents. Mostly bribes, turning to look the other way, but there’ve been more active cases.”

  “Are you talking about anyone in particular?” Archer asked.

  “Charlie DeSantos from CPS. The FBI is looking at him now.”

  “Does he know anything important?”

  Lucy responded. “He knows we connected Michael and Richard Diaz, and he knows we’re focused on the double-T scar on their forearms. He also knew I was running all runaways that fit the profile. He called me, met with me, seemed to be involved from the very beginning—like he knew more than he should have. It’s a subtle thing, and not anything I picked up on until I started thinking back to when my car could have been tampered with.”

  Ryan said, “Zach’s calling.”

  He took the call as the van pulled away from the airplane hangar. He didn’t say much, and a minute later hung up.

  “Charlie DeSantos’s house burned to the ground early this morning. There’s a body inside, unrecognizable, but they believe it’s DeSantos.”

  “Arson?”

  “Preliminary report is yes—the fire burned hot and fast and there’s evidence at the scene that suggests fuel was added. They’re saying gasoline. But here’s the kicker—he was tortured first.”

  “How do they know?” Lucy asked.

  “His hands were cut off.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Jaime’s ex-girlfriend Benita Peña lived on the outskirts of McAllen, close to the small, depressed border town of Hidalgo where Lucy’s brother Jack had lived for a decade. Lucy’d never been here when Jack was; he’d been estranged from the family at the time. But she could picture him in the disheartened community, living light and cheap, a mercenary for hire who primarily rescued Americans who’d been kidnapped for ransom, or working on off-book operations where the American government had no business being.

  Jack still had his fingers in such operations through RCK; the firm was often hired by companies to serve as protection for executives negotiating in countries where life was cheap, but most of the south-of-the-border work went to Sean’s brother Kane and his team.

  They drove up to the staging area, several blocks from Jaime
’s location. Because of the area, their vehicles—though undercover and as worn and old on the outside as others in the area—might stand out. Sam Archer had filled them in on the way. The undercover agents with eyes on the house had seen no movement since the ex-girlfriend left for work.

  Brad had been quiet during the drive. Now he said, “I don’t think he’s there.”

  “There’s no reason to think that,” Sam said. He came in late last night, alone. He’s there.”

  Lucy asked, “No one has seen Bella?”

  “Correct. We’re going in with the assumption that she’s inside. Donnelly, the lead goes to the local SWAT team. You and Quiroz will be part of Beta team. Kincaid, you’re with me. We’re staying back until SWAT clears the building.”

  Waiting. At times like this she wished she could be part of the team instead of listening two blocks away on the com.

  DEA announced themselves outside and asked the occupants to come out. No movement. As Lucy listened, they surrounded the house and forced entry. Reports of clear, clear, clear came at regular intervals for the next five minutes. Then Donnelly came on the com. “Director, they’re gone. They were here—we found girl’s clothing in a small room with an external lock. There’s a tunnel in the basement, just like the fucking hardware store.”

  He was angry, and Lucy didn’t blame him—though there was no way to have known there was a tunnel under this small, ramshackle house. They didn’t have enough intel when everything was moving so fast.

  Lucy joined Archer as the director walked down the street and up the short dirt walk to the crumbling one-story wood house. They met up with Brad and Ryan. Ryan had a doll in his hand and handed it to Lucy.

  “It’s Bella’s,” Lucy said. “She brought it from her house on Saturday.”

  “How long?” Archer demanded.

  “He could have bolted with her anytime after two in the morning until five minutes before we arrived,” Donnelly said.

  “We need a better window than that. Canvass the area. Maybe someone saw something.”

  Ryan said, “No one here is going to talk to us.”

  “We have to try.”

  The canvass was a bust. No one would say anything. Everyone who said a word said the same thing: they’d seen nothing and no one. Didn’t know who lived there. Never saw the man before. No one admitted to seeing a little girl.

  Ryan and Brad tracked down the tunnel exit, one block over.

  “Border patrol has been on alert for Jaime since Saturday morning,” Archer said, “and I just called in an update and the director is going to reiterate that Sanchez is wanted for kidnapping a minor and may be fleeing to Mexico with her. The higher the BOLO, the more they pay attention.”

  Brad shook his head. “You know as well as I do that there are plenty of border holes they can slip through. Especially going south.”

  “Then go search and find us something to work with! Where did he go? Which way? Did he leave in the middle of the night or in the morning? Are we nine minutes behind him or nine hours?”

  Lucy sent Sean a message with the status. He responded:

  I just landed. I’m working on something for Kane. I’ll call you when I can.

  What was Sean doing for Kane?

  Ryan ran out. “We got something,” he told Archer and Lucy. As they followed him around to the back of the house, he said, “I went through the garbage—disgusting. And found a burner phone. Your techs are going through it now, but it looks like he tossed it on his way out. The last message coming in was at eight thirty this morning.”

  “That puts him only three hours ahead of us,” Archer said. “Good work.”

  A SWAT tech had the phone in a bag and said, “I can get more off it in the lab. He didn’t wipe it. I retrieved a series of text messages from this morning.” He handed Archer the phone. “I set it up so you can scroll from the first one, at eight ten this morning, down to the last message nineteen minutes later.”

  Lucy looked over Samantha’s shoulder.

  The first message was incoming.

  Unknown: He’s here. Tracking him now.

  Sanchez: fucking time. when? where?

  Unknown: In town. Heading to the tunnel.

  Sanchez: send D 4 him. get guys & wait 4 call

  Unknown: Is it still on? Even with the heat?

  And the last message came five minutes later, presumably from Jaime:

  Sanchez: fuck yea gen aint scared

  “I hope you have something more,” Sam said, frustrated. “This doesn’t tell us where they are or even their plans—just that they’re going through with whatever it is because they don’t think we’re onto them.”

  “I do,” Donnelly said as he came out of the house. “The key to the ledger.” He handed Sam a torn sheet of paper.

  “Decipher,” she said.

  Donnelly pulled from his pocket a copy of a page of the ledger. “We quickly figured out that each page encompassed a week, and this page is for this week, so I made a copy. But we didn’t know what the symbols meant. Until now. This paper was in the tunnel, in the corner like garbage. It tells us that today, at three p.m., they’ll be at location gato. Gato is a warehouse in Hidalgo, in a heavily industrial area that the local guys say is mostly abandoned. Location polla is a bar in McAllen, casa is Mirabelle’s house in San Antonio. We can’t figure out the entire code, but we have enough to give us something to track them. And this coincides with what the McAllen team gave us earlier.”

  Sam considered. “Where was this?”

  “In the tunnel mixed with a bunch of trash.”

  Lucy said, “I think we should be cautious. My source thinks it may be a setup.”

  “Source?” Brad said, turning on her. “You mean Kane Rogan?”

  Archer asked, “Did he have specifics?”

  “No, just he’s suspicious about—”

  “Nothing solid. And why did you tell him about the op in the first place? That was last night—things change rapidly.”

  “He understands this area and these people. He identified the general as Vasco Trejo. He knows what he’s doing.”

  Archer put her hand up to stop Brad from arguing. “I agree we need more intel, but I trust the people down here. I’m not stopping a key operation because a mercenary has a suspicion. If he has something solid, give it to me and I’ll listen.”

  Lucy shook her head. She trusted Kane’s instincts, but there was nothing solid to give. She glanced at Brad, then said, “Mirabelle said earlier that Jaime had someone on the inside.”

  Sam said, “Brad told me. And we’re proceeding with caution. But you think it’s DeSantos, right?”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t someone else.”

  Sam turned to Brad. “Thoughts?”

  “We’ve kept this as close to the vest as possible. If there’s a law enforcement leak, the chances are it’s someone in SAPD. Our teams in San Antonio and McAllen aren’t new.”

  Sam considered, then said, “It’s my call. We’ll send a recon team to the site. I’m going to leave a team of six here to continue searching and make sure Sanchez isn’t coming back. I’ll have Rollins detain the girlfriend. Everyone else, we’ll head to gato but we do nothing until we confirm the intel we have. Got it?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Donnelly said.

  * * *

  Bella had never seen such a huge house. And it was pink. Not bright pink like her Barbie house, but light pink, like the roses in Abuelita’s backyard.

  Uncle Jaime was mad at her because she cried too much. She tried not to cry, because she didn’t want to make him mad, but sometimes she couldn’t stop. She missed her mama. She missed Uncle George. She even missed CeCe.

  Men she didn’t know had stopped them at the bottom of the mountain, then drove them up to the gigantic house. The road was bumpy and went around and around. She leaned into her uncle because even though she was scared of him, these other men were even more scary. And they had guns, big guns over their shoulders,
and knives on their belts and they didn’t smile at all, not once.

  “I wish CeCe were here,” she whispered as the Jeep stopped and her uncle lifted her out of the backseat.

  He didn’t say anything. He hadn’t talked to her hardly at all since they left the dirty house where that woman he kissed a lot lived.

  Bella didn’t like Uncle Jaime’s voice anymore. He’d never really been nice, but he sounded meaner now. He didn’t give her a toothbrush. And he only gave her food in wrappers. Her mama didn’t like that food, she said it was bad for you even if it tasted good. Bella liked her mama’s food, especially when she let her help make tamales.

  “Uncle Jaime?”

  “Be quiet. Okay? Just stop talking.”

  She was shaking by the time they walked all the way up the stone path to the big wood front door. It had a glass window with colors, like the church.

  The men who walked with them knocked on the door. It was opened by another man with a gun. Bella stepped behind her uncle.

  “You’re late,” the man in the doorway said. He didn’t smile.

  But he let them in, and that was good because Bella was hot and tired and really, really thirsty.

  The house was cool with tile floors and big ceilings and lots of space. Bella’s eyes grew wide as she looked all around. She’d never, ever seen a house this big or beautiful. She felt so small.

  They went into a room that was as big as her whole house. It had couches and books and a big table and glass doors that went right outside. She could see a pool, big and blue, shimmering in the sunshine.

  A man stood in the middle. He wasn’t a big man. There was nothing scary about him and he didn’t have a gun. He was shorter than her uncle George, but taller than her uncle Jaime. He wore white pants and a white shirt and was very pretty.

  Girls are pretty, boys are handsome, stupid.

  It was like CeCe was talking in her head right there. That made Bella homesick all over again.

  No one said anything. The man in the white shirt walked over to her and squatted down. He had a mustache. He smiled. He was the first person who had smiled at her since Uncle Jaime took her from Mr. and Mrs. Grove.