The Partnership

Home > Suspense > The Partnership > Page 21
The Partnership Page 21

by Dustin Stevens


  “That being said, there is no way, simply no way, that we cannot be a part of this.”

  Extending the same hand toward Reed, she said, “We all heard the detective this morning. His contact stated flat out that she was brought here from China, she and her family promised the moon and more, and was forced right into the sex market.

  “How is that not directly under Immigration purview?”

  Giving no outward response to the hand extended his way, Reed remained silent, flicking his gaze over toward Preston and Gott, waiting for them to reply.

  Much of the afternoon had gone in such a manner, each of the various divisions taking a turn at stating their case for inclusion. Thus far, each one had been rebutted with some form of the same argument, more of the same no doubt just seconds away.

  The entire stance the FBI seemed to have was that the situation was too delicate to risk overexposure. Having been called on from Interpol directly, this seemed to be part of a much larger scheme that was just taking hold in the United States.

  As far as anybody knew, this was what appeared to be the first official sighting of such a thing occurring domestically, the information that could be gleaned from their apprehension a boon of resources with international repercussions.

  With each passing hour, the story seemed to escalate in grandeur, Reed sensing that Tucker was growing increasingly comfortable with the concocted tale, adding a bit of exaggeration with each retelling.

  By midnight there was no doubt that he would include talk of death threats on the Pope and the Queen of England, an eventuality that was starting to look more likely as time ticked by.

  Just as anticipated, the agent extended a finger toward the ceiling and launched forward with the same dialogue, Reed’s attention waning as he felt his phone vibrate against his hip. Leaning back a few inches in his seat, he kept the item below the ledge of the table and checked the screen, expecting to see one of his parents pop up, wanting to know if he would be joining them for dinner.

  Already dreading what the answer would be, not knowing if the rate they were going he would even get dinner, he glanced down at the screen to see something else entirely.

  Staring back at him was a string of numbers, the call coming from someone that he hadn’t known long enough to enter as an actual contact, but recognized just the same.

  Pushing back a few more inches, he turned his chin into his shoulder and leaned toward Grimes, whispering only, “I have to take this.”

  The captain grunted softly in affirmation, his focus never leaving Tucker as Reed stood, tapping the side of his jeans lightly to draw Billie up from the floor beside him. Together they exited around the outside of the room, Reed catching Greene’s eye as he went and shifting the top of his head out to the hallway.

  Without a sound, the senior officer stood and followed, catching the door as Reed held it for him, both stepping into the silent corridor.

  After the confined chaos of the conference room, it was a welcomed change.

  “Got something?” Greene asked, stopping in the middle of the hallway as Reed walked to opposite side and turned back, the phone extended before him.

  “Don’t know yet,” Reed said, “but I can’t imagine this guy would be calling unless something was up.”

  Without waiting for a response, he accepted the call, lowering the volume several notches so it was just audible to the two of them.

  “Reed Mattox.”

  “Hey, Detective, this is Caleb Basel.”

  He spoke in a quick cadence, his voice a bit hushed, as if talking in a faux whisper.

  Picking up on the tone instantly, Reed glanced up to Greene, seeing the same realization on the man’s face.

  “What’s wrong?” Reed asked.

  For a moment there was nothing but heavy breathing on the line, as if the younger man was laboring, trying to piece together the right words to say, nothing coming to mind.

  “Caleb?” Reed inserted, trying to prod him along. “What happened?”

  “She’s gone,” Basel managed, the words sounding pained.

  Snapping his attention up toward Greene, Reed felt that same dreadful feeling within ratchet up again, the reaction becoming far too common for his liking or own well-being.

  “Tek-Yen?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Positive,” Basel said, not a shred of doubt in his voice.

  Checking the time stamp in the corner of the phone, Reed saw that it was just minutes before the hour. At such a time, the afternoon traffic would just be starting to thin, but not by much.

  Not that it mattered in the slightest.

  “Where are you right now?”

  Chapter Forty-Four

  It was the same coffee shop Basel had met with Bethanee and Yek-Yen in less than two weeks before, a small mom-and-pop affair on the north end of Columbus. Just a few miles from the spot where he had been staking out the girls in actual distance, it was light years away in basically every other form.

  Sitting more than a half mile above the edge of Clintonville, the place had a mailing address of Worthington, putting it in one of the more posh suburbs of the city. Gone were any of the boarded storefronts or derelict cars that littered large swaths of High Street, in their place buildings made from brick and cars that trended toward BMW and Audi, so much so that Basel’s Honda seemed an eyesore as Reed pulled into the lot for the place and climbed out with Billie.

  Three minutes later, a cruiser carrying Greene and Gilchrist arrived, the two officers stepping out to join them.

  Once the call came in, Reed hadn’t bothered to re-enter the room. Instead he had sent a text to Grimes letting him know what had transpired and what he was planning.

  Within seconds he got a response telling him to do just that, adding that he would keep them apprised of any new developments that occurred in the meeting.

  Bureaucracy being what it was, Reed could almost sense even from the text message that his captain held just as much faith as he did that anything positive would actually come to pass.

  At the same time, Greene had managed to catch Gilchrist’s attention through the glass in the door, beckoning him out, the younger man almost jumping at the opportunity to flee.

  Behind him, McMichaels and Jacobs sat with looks that bordered on pleading, Reed able to respond with nothing more than an apologetic shrug as he waited for Gilchrist to join them before the group headed toward the stairs.

  While Greene was the senior of the four officers Reed so often worked with, the only reason he had been chosen when the call arrived was the simple fact that he was sitting closest to the door. In his previous life at the 19th, Reed had seen far too much deference given to seniority and playing favorites, something he now avoided at every chance possible.

  “How do you want to play this?” Gilchrist asked, the two officers – both still in full winter uniform – stopping just off the curb where Reed and Billie stood.

  Most of the ride over had been spent in silence, the lone exception being a quick call home to tell them not to bother waiting for him, the response being just as he suspected, no small amount of unspoken disappointment in his mother’s voice. Beyond that, he had sat and mulled over the very question just posed to him, trying to figure out how to best approach things.

  The fact was, the previous conversation with Basel had been nothing more than a few quick sentences, enough to let them know that Tek-Yen was gone, and that he felt supremely awful about it.

  From there, Reed had simply told Basel to put some distance between himself and the corner, being careful to watch his tail and to stay somewhere public and visible.

  They would be along shortly.

  As such, there was a great deal more information Reed still needed before being able to formulate a plan, or even a next step, with any degree of certainty.

  “Not sure yet,” Reed replied, glancing between them. “Right now we need to know what he knows. From there, we’ll figure it out
.”

  Across from him Gilchrist’s mouth opened slightly as if to respond, closing just as fast, no words escaping. Beside him, Greene only nodded, the response seeming to be in line with what he already suspected.

  Turning on a heel, Reed led the group to the front door and stepped inside, a wall of warmth and the overpowering aroma of roasted Arabica beans hitting him square in the face. Holding the door open for Billie to pass in beside him, he automatically reached into his pocket with his free hand and extracted his badge, waving it to the woman behind the counter.

  Seemingly used to detectives stopping by, she nodded in acquiescence, even going as far as offering an upward turned thumb.

  Behind him, the officers both stepped inside as well, Greene taking the door from him as Reed walked two steps forward and scanned the space.

  Arranged in a more open format than the typical Starbucks, the center of the room dipped down into a hollow, a leather sofa lining the outside of it, a few beanbags on the carpeted floor in the well. Around the outside of the room were a series of small tables, everything made from dark wood.

  In total there were no more than a dozen people present, many in knit caps and thick framed glasses, only a couple glancing up at the odd cluster of men and dog that had just entered.

  Swinging his gaze almost the entire expanse of the building, Reed spotted Basel sitting in the back corner, his elbows resting on the table, his shoulders bunched up below his ears as he sat and stared straight ahead.

  “Back in the corner,” he said, glancing to the officers beside him. Shifting his attention to the barista, he raised his voice slightly and said, “Large iced tea, lot of sugar, please.”

  Nodding once, she focused on the other two and asked, “For you gentleman?”

  “Large black,” Greene replied.

  “Vanilla soy latte,” Gilchrist added.

  Under different circumstances, Reed might have made a comment, or at the very least cracked a smile, knowing Greene would join him in a little playful ribbing of their young charge.

  As it was, he waited until the woman went to work on their order before heading straight for to the corner.

  “Down,” he said upon arrival, Billie lowering herself to the floor as he took up the chair beside Basel, the officers taking the two seats opposite them.

  Not until all three were seated did he even seem to register their presence, Reed noticing that both of his thumbnails were rimmed with blood, as if he had been chewing on them, waiting for their arrival.

  “Caleb Basel, these are Officers Greene and Gilchrist, they work with me out of the 8th Precinct. Officers, Caleb Basel, freelance photographer that was doing some contract stuff with Bethanee Ing.”

  He didn’t bother adding upon her demise to the end of the sentence, knowing they had been present for his briefing that morning, were already fully aware of who he was and his role in the case.

  Glancing up to them, Basel only nodded, nervous energy seeming to roll off of him in undulating waves.

  “So what happened?” Reed asked, bypassing any further lead up and getting right to it. The entire ride over he had spent wanting more information, the amount they didn’t know so large, there was no best place to even begin prodding.

  Before he could answer, the woman from behind the counter arrived with their order, the three cups balanced on a small black tray.

  “Just settle up with me at the counter when you’re done,” she said, setting them down in front of their corresponding party, each of the men nodding their thanks as she did so.

  None so much as touched their beverage as she left, each looking to Basel, waiting for him to continue.

  After more than a full minute, he again tracked his gaze around the table, his tongue darting out over his bottom lip, before saying, “Okay, so I know you said to stay away, but I’m sorry, I had to go back.”

  At that, he focused in on Reed, seeming to wait for some form of admonishment. When none came his way, he continued, “I know it was risky, but I was afraid that our field trip last night might have gotten her in trouble, so I posted up a few blocks away with my camera, just to make sure she was there and alright.”

  More than once the same concern had arisen within Reed, a series of palpitations fluttering through his chest.

  He himself had had nothing to do with bringing Tek-Yen across town, but that wouldn’t make him any less culpable if something happened to her.

  “But she wasn’t?” Reed asked.

  “No,” Basel said. “I got there about a half hour before I called you, just after dark, when they normally line up.”

  On the far side of the table, Gilchrist reached out and took up his drink, his partner remaining stony as they listened to Basel explain the scene, making it sound as normal as folks waiting at a bus stop.

  “From where I was I had a pretty good vantage,” Basel said, “could see most of the usual faces, but no Tek-Yen.”

  “And there was no way she’d already been picked up?” Greene inserted.

  Having never seen the girl, it was a reasonable question to ask, though Reed already knew the answer to it before a response ever came.

  Nobody, not even the most vile of pedophiles, would ever willingly take her, especially not with their pick of all the others still standing nearby.

  “None,” Basel said, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “In the week-plus I’ve been on surveillance, I’m the only person that’s ever done so.”

  Glancing past them to the room, he added, “When we first met here, Beth even seemed to suggest the girl might be in trouble if she didn’t start drumming up more business soon.”

  Thinking back to the night before, to the young girl that had sat and ate soup and crackers, had seemed in awe of Billie as she played with her hair, Reed couldn’t help but feel rage within him. Nothing more than a kid, she had done nothing wrong, had only been acting in good faith to the arrangement her family had made, wanting to help.

  Now this was her reward for it.

  “You’re sure that’s it, though?” Reed asked. “She wasn’t home with the flu or something?”

  Remembering back to the outfit she’d been wearing and the bitter cold outside, it wasn’t an unreasonable suggestion, even if Reed knew it was a longshot at best.

  Again casting a sideways glance, Basel said, “No, because I got out and approached again.”

  Letting a low grunt slide out, Reed said nothing, knowing there would be a time for coming down on him later, but that now was not the right moment.

  “A few of the girls recognized me from last night,” Basel continued, “and came my way. I doubt Tek-Yen told them what had really happened, but she must have at least said I wasn’t a danger, because they walked right up.”

  Having not spent much time working sex crimes, Reed had never thought about such matters, though it did serve to make sense. As with any business, word of the better customers to work with would certainly get around.

  “Any good will they had vanished the second I asked about her, though,” Basel continued. “And I wasn’t even conspicuous about it, just made it seem like we’d had a good time and I was hoping for a repeat performance.”

  With each thing Basel said, Reed could feel his insides constrict tighter, wishing the young man had not put himself out there in such a way, but knowing he desperately needed whatever information the ill-advised attempt had produced.

  “But like I said, they clammed up on the spot,” Basel said, “started talking to each other in Chinese, stumbling all over themselves to get away from me.”

  “Just like that?” Gilchrist asked.

  “Just like that,” Basel replied. “And let me tell you, they were scared.”

  Feeling his brow come together, Reed shifted his attention toward the center of the room, chewing on what had just been shared. The two chunks of information worked as standalones, though taken together they didn’t quite seem to fit.

  Had she done something wrong, she would have been pu
lled from the street and most likely made an example of, explaining both her absence and the fear the young girls displayed upon mentioning her name.

  At the same time, if she was in trouble for going with Basel, the young man would not have been let go without recourse, would not be sitting here with them right now.

  Something more had to have been going on.

  “So they didn’t know where she was?” Reed asked. “Weren’t able to provide any useful information about her at all?”

  “No,” Basel said, “that ended the conversation there, but I’ve been sitting here thinking about it, and I have something that might be able to help.”

  “What’s that?” Reed asked.

  “Do you still have that stack of pictures I gave you yesterday?”

  For the first time since arriving, Reed felt a tiny spark, already suspecting where Basel might be going with the statement.

  “They’re at the precinct, but we still have them,” Reed responded. “Why?”

  “Because there are a few shots in there of a guy,” Basel said, shifting his attention up to Greene for a moment before looking back to the table between them. “I didn’t think of it at the time, because he certainly didn’t look the part. I thought he might even be a customer, but now looking back on it...”

  His voice faded for an instant as he seemed to process the thought, it apparent that he had not yet even considered the notion before this very instant.

  “Big guy, black, bushy beard, always wears this long leather jacket.”

  Having glanced through the pictures, Reed had a vague recollection of someone that could fit the description, though each time he had gone through the photos, his attention had been much more focused on the girls.

  Any men he had seen had simply been ancillary, filed away as a prospective client and nothing more.

  “What about him?”

  “He was around too much to just be a customer,” Basel said. “Not necessarily a pimp, but some sort of overseer. Stopped by most every night at some point.

 

‹ Prev