He ran his hands over the dog and received an enthusiastic tongue bath in return. Normally Meg would have called Hawk off after just a few seconds, but part of her sensed that Van Cleave needed it. Hawk’s joy evidently blunted the sharp edges of Van Cleave’s anger.
Meg sat down on the curb beside him, Hawk between them. “That bad?”
“Jesus Christ.” Rage tipped every word. “I mean, I knew we were walking into a bad situation, but the number of kids in there is staggering. I thought he’d have half a dozen.”
“I’ve seen more than that walk through the door.”
“I bet you have. There are twenty-seven men and boys in total. I had to call a second van to transport them all. They’re all immigrants. Usually, in a group like that, it’s mostly men, sent out into the fields to do backbreaking work too strenuous for boys. But there were nineteen kids in there.”
Meg looked back toward the figures stumbling through the doorway. “I don’t see any women.”
“Not a one. They don’t need them. They’re using boys in their place.”
“I thought this house was for farm workers?”
Van Cleave lowered his forehead to rest it on Hawk’s sturdy skull. “All the men are marked for that, and some of the larger, more mature boys. The smaller boys . . .”
“They’re meant for the sex trade.”
“Most of them are already in it.” His head rose and the mixture of grief and fury in his eyes had Meg drawing back a few inches. “They’re terrified of us. Of the male agents. I had to call for extra female agents to assist. I can’t imagine the kinds of abuse they’ve suffered, but clearly it’s all been at the hands of men.” The hands resting on Hawk’s back balled into fists. “I want to hurt him.”
Meg didn’t have to ask to know he meant Russo. “I didn’t even see it and I can see why you would. You may not have kids of your own, but you have the instinct to protect in spades. It wasn’t possible for you to have stopped this before it even started to save them from the experience. But you got them out of it.”
“Too little, too late.”
“It’s never too late. Look at Mary. She thought she was a lost cause and now she’s back with her parents and working on rebuilding her life. You know what they say: Where there’s life, there’s hope. You’ve given them a chance to have that kind of hope. But why are they all handcuffed? Those are victims, not criminals.”
“I agree. However, I couldn’t take the chance of any of them getting away. Some of them are scared enough to try to make a run for it, and I don’t want anyone getting hurt or chancing anyone getting away and being sucked back into this life because of desperation. I need to get them interviewed and settled somewhere nonthreatening. I need to find out where those kids came from and get them back home if home is a safe place.”
Meg sighed. “I can tell you from my years with the Richmond PD that many of these kids ran away from home because it wasn’t a safe place.”
“Oh, I know. And we’ll be prepared for that. CPS will be meeting us and them downtown.”
“Good. What’s next then?”
“I need the crime scene techs in that house. I think there’s information in there about where they’ve been sending victims to work. We don’t want to mess up any evidence and risk an upcoming court case on a technical error, so I’ll leave collection to them. There might even be evidence of men and boys who’ve passed through the house previously. We need to find them, and to pull them out of whatever hell they’re in. Lists of their names and work sites will give us that.”
“Okay, what’s next for you then?”
“A barrel of coffee to make up for not having slept in nearly twenty-four hours, then some paperwork, which will really be time for me to cool down. Then I’m going after Russo once I can trust myself to do it without taking him apart and killing my own case.”
“Interrogation? I want in.”
Van Cleave’s gaze slid sideways toward her. “You’re not an agent.”
“I’m not supposed to be on this case, period, but I made a promise to a victim—which you agreed to and made happen, I might add—so here I am. I’m an ex-cop, Van, not just some dog trainer off the streets. I can be useful here. I can also be a buffer if you start to lose it. If you think it’s going south at any time, I’ll pull out and you can send in whoever you need. But I want in, I want to see him go down. I didn’t get to see Reed fall, so I think you owe me this much.”
Van Cleave stared at her while the dog between them nudged at him with his muzzle. Then his shoulders rose and fell on a sigh. “Fine. But you follow my lead and instructions, no questions asked.”
“Deal.”
Meg turned back to the house as the last of the children were helped into the second FBI van and two female agents climbed in before the doors slid shut. This morning’s raid had been a success, but Meg had the feeling that this was only the tip of the iceberg. And like the iceberg that took down the Titanic, sometimes what hid in the murky depths was deadliest of all.
CHAPTER 24
Lost Person Behavior: A search strategy based upon known and probable behavior of the missing person.
Thursday, July 27, 1:31 PM
FBI Field Office
Norfolk, Virginia
“Ready?”
Meg stared through the double-sided glass, into the interrogation room beyond. Russo sat in the single chair on the far side of the table, his bound hands chained to the table in front of him, and his angry eyes focused on the mirrored glass opposite him. Staring directly at her, as if he could see her. Bring it on. “Ready.”
Van Cleave opened the door and strode through to the table. He slapped a file folder down on the table and pulled out his chair with a screech. Meg followed, closing the door behind her and taking the chair beside Van Cleave.
Van Cleave opened the folder. “Dominic Russo, I’m required to inform you that this interview is being recorded. I’m Special Agent in Charge Van Cleave, and this is my colleague Meg Jennings. I’m going to read you your rights again for the record. You have the right to remain silent . . .” He recited the full Miranda warning. “You can decide at any time from this moment on to terminate the interview and exercise these rights. Do you understand each of these rights I have explained to you?”
Russo nodded curtly.
“Out loud for the recording, please.”
“Yeah.”
“Having these rights in mind, do you wish to talk to us now?”
Russo let out a bitter laugh. “Sure. Why the hell not?”
“You are currently charged with conspiracy to recruit, sex trafficking of minors, acting in a manner injurious to a child less than seventeen, unlawful imprisonment, promoting prostitution, and human trafficking—providing forced services and involving commercial sex. Oh, and you broke the Virginia Minimum Wage Act for referring illegal immigrants for employment when they lacked documentation. Of course, additional charges could be added as new evidence is introduced into the case. Let’s start with the fact that you are essentially running a boardinghouse without a permit, exceeding zoning laws for occupancy.”
“I was just trying to help some guys out until they got on their feet.”
“You’re a hero,” Van Cleave said. “The health department is likely going to levy charges concerning the living conditions. Why were there so many people living in that house? A house, by the way, that doesn’t belong to you, but is instead registered to Bartlett and Kesell, a shell corporation that we’re in the process of tracking down. Why were you there?”
“Like I said, I was just helping out some guys down on their luck.”
“Helping them do what?” Meg leaned forward to pin Russo with a hard stare. “Most of them didn’t look healthy enough to hold down a real job.”
“Whatever we could find for them. I’d help them make connections, help them get on their feet. After that it was up to them.”
Meg turned to Van Cleave. “You’re right, he’s a hero.” The look sh
e turned back on Russo said anything but. “What kind of connections?”
“You know, these guys aren’t particularly well educated, so whatever jobs we could find.”
“Did they speak English?”
“Some.”
“I assume you asked to see their papers?” Meg asked.
Russo’s expression was all guileless innocence. “That’s not what I do. These fine folk arrive at my door, I help them find work.”
Van Cleave’s index finger tapped the top page in the folder. “You don’t check out their immigration status?”
“I’m not ICE. If these hardworking folks tell me they’re legal citizens or have green cards, why wouldn’t I believe them? I’m sure their employers have a responsibility to check that out.”
“And what about the children?” Meg asked. “Some of them looked a little on the young side for Virginia’s labor laws. They each have an employment certificate?”
“Don’t need one to work on a farm or in an orchard.”
Meg and Van Cleave exchanged a quick glance. His first slip.
Van Cleave turned a page in his folder. “I see here that you have a few farms that like to take on your workers.” He named off several farms, wineries, and orchards.
For the first time Russo looked cautious.
Van Cleave sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “You do know we have translators? And my grasp of Spanish is pretty solid. The men and boys were fairly talkative once we assured them you would be in no position to ever harm them again. And that we wouldn’t be pressing charges against them, or turning them over to ICE.” His fist came down on the table, making Russo jump. “We know what you did. We know how you farmed out—literally—the men and older boys.” He leaned in closer. “We found the floor safe with money, drugs, and the records of your sex trade operation. You thought you had those boys terrified into submission. But one of them with more guts in his little finger than you have in your whole body was spying on you, learning your secrets, and told us all about them as soon as he got here. I went back myself late this afternoon and had a locksmith crack the safe. We have clients and transactions. We have the drugs you used to keep some of your victims under your thumb.”
Meg laid her hand on Van Cleave’s arm to draw his attention. “You forgot to add in the charge of possession with the intent to deliver.”
Van Cleave’s smile was full of satisfied glee. “My mistake. I did forget.” He turned back to the man across the table, who grew paler with each passing minute. “Are you familiar with mandatory minimums for drug charges, Russo? Granted, considering the list of charges you have against you and their combined sentence, that may be the least of your concerns. You’re never going to see the light of day again. No prisoner reentry for you.” The smile got broader as Russo’s eyes went wide. “Yes, we know all about your little recruitment scheme. Luke Reed died before he could tell all, but we found out about it anyway.” He looked at Meg. “We could add conspiracy to commit a felony too.”
“We absolutely should,” she agreed.
“Wait, wait.” Russo’s hands spread wide until the handcuffs snapped them back. In his sudden rush of panic, he’d forgotten he was bound. “I want a deal.”
Van Cleave turned to Meg. “And suddenly he wants to deal.”
“Too bad that’s up to the district attorney. Not our call.”
“Get the DA on the line.” Russo’s clenched fists hit the table in a rattle of bone and steel. “I’m done talking until we talk about a deal.”
“You heard the man,” Meg said. “Guess we’ll have to talk to the DA.”
Without another word, Meg and Van Cleave left the room. Meg nodded to the agent stationed outside the interrogation room door and followed Van Cleave toward his office. He surprised her by turning into the lunchroom instead.
“Coffee?”
“We’re going to stop for coffee?”
“At least.” Van Cleave glanced at his watch. “Let’s give him twenty minutes to cool his heels.”
“What about the DA?”
“Already done.”
“What?”
He laughed as he pulled out a coffee pod and loaded it into the machine. “I’m so far ahead of him, it isn’t funny. You didn’t answer—coffee?”
“Sure, thanks.”
He leaned against the counter while the machine hissed and dripped out the first cup. “I didn’t have a chance to update you. What you don’t know is that I called the DA from the car on the way back from the second visit to Washington Street. This is big, Meg, too big for just this one guy. When the whole thing started, I thought we were looking at a sex ring, but now I’m seeing how wide it stretches and into how many aspects of human trafficking. Also into how many major players we might have. Players who we should respect, who should know better. Who are giving up their sworn tenets to uphold the law to make a quick buck.” His brows drew together as his jaw tightened.
“For someone who has spent a lifetime trying to stop this kind of exploitation, that must feel like the worst kind of betrayal.”
Van Cleave handed her the cup and set up a second. “Pretty much.” He looked up and the anger had morphed into determination. “I don’t want to get just one guy. I want them all.” His hands on his hips, he stared down into the cup as the liquid level slowly rose. “You know, we could have missed the whole thing. If your firefighter buddy . . .” He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed at his forehead. “Sorry, it’s been a long day and it’s only just past lunch. What’s his name?”
“Lieutenant Todd Webb. And give yourself a break. You’ve been up since yesterday morning.”
“I’m going to have to take thirty at some point today before I walk into a wall or start making mistakes that could jeopardize the case. Anyway, if Lieutenant Webb hadn’t caught sight of that van, and if it wasn’t a visceral part of the two of you to help the helpless, we would never have caught the thread that led to this entire case. Mary would have died under those bleachers. Emma would have died in the swamp. McCord and Lieutenant Webb never would have made that jackass move to go meet with Russo and you never would have followed him to find that house. Most of those victims would have died.”
“Who knew at the time that one chance sighting would have so many ramifications?”
“The ramifications are for the people involved who are steering this nightmare. The rest we’ll do our best to save.” He took a sip of his own coffee and sighed in pleasure. “Damn, I needed that.”
“I’m sure you do. Do you have the okay from the DA to deal?”
“Yes. When she discovered how many charges are levied against Russo, she was happy to swap out a few of the less serious charges. It will sound like a great deal to Russo, but the other charges will put him away for life anyway, so she can be flexible. She understands the bigger picture and she’s willing to compromise here to bring down the ringleaders.” He glanced down toward the floor. “Where’s Hawk today? It’s weird to see you without him.”
“It’s weird to be without him, let me tell you. We’re usually attached at the hip. McCord’s got him. I wanted to leave him with someone familiar for a few hours, and my sister is too far away and Todd is still helping with the recovery operation. That left McCord.”
“He’s okay with dog sitting?”
“To progress the case he’ll break first? Sure, he is. Any news about our missing girls?”
“Nothing definitive yet, which is why I didn’t bring it up, but the Norfolk PD think they’ve got a line on at least one of them. They’re following the lead, hard.”
“Then we may catch a break after all.” Meg glanced at the clock on the wall. “Think that’s enough time?”
Van Cleave pulled out a chair, propped his feet up opposite and wrapped both hands around his coffee cup. “Not yet. I want him nervous and on edge in there. The longer it takes for us to come back, the more uncertain a deal might be in his head.”
“Because you’re having trouble con
vincing the DA that it’s a good idea.”
“Exactly.”
When they entered the conference room for the second time, Meg could see that Van Cleave’s strategy was paying off. Russo was trying to look cool and collected, but the rattle of the handcuff chain against the table from hands he couldn’t hold still gave him away.
Van Cleave sat in the chair and made a show of picking up the papers in the folder and tapping them on the desk to fine-tune the already perfectly aligned edges. He exuded an air of overall dissatisfaction.
“What did he say?” Russo demanded. “Do we have a deal?”
“It’s she, and yes, we have a deal.” Van Cleave threw the papers back into the folder. “Although she was too damned easy on you, in my opinion. She’s willing to drop possession with intent to deliver, acting in a manner injurious to a child less than seventeen, and unlawful imprisonment, as long as you give us names.” Both hands landed palm down on the table with a slap. “And I don’t mean any names, I mean the people running this organization. Anything else is wasting my time and I’ll tell her you weren’t going for it.”
“I don’t know everyone involved.”
“Well, let’s start with who you do know. And I want details, Russo. You just give me names, with no evidence to support it and are unwilling to stand as a material witness as part of the bargain, then we’re done here and you can rot in jail for as long as you live.”
“You know about Luke Reed. There’s another guy, Vic Hermes. He runs a group of massage parlors—”
Van Cleave pushed back from the table so abruptly it shifted, pinning Russo in his chair on the far side. “We’re done here.” He looked at Meg. “Let’s go.”
Meg stood and started to move toward the door.
Storm Rising Page 22
