A Voice from the Field (28 page)

“What does all that have to do with this?” He didn't sound angry but genuinely curious.

“She's been quiet for a while. The girl, that is. I think all the drinking has been my way of trying to keep her that way. I don't want this shit in my head. At least, I didn't.”

“And now?”

“After the van, after that night, she came back. Told me the girl in the van needs me. That she's waiting for me.”

“She told you all that?” Tia could hear disbelief in his voice. She couldn't blame him.

“Yeah, Ben, she did. I know how it sounds, but I don't care. I know I can't explain it and neither can you. But I'm not crazy.”

“I'm not saying you're crazy, Tia. But don't you think maybe there might be some reasonable explanation? I don't know. Something that doesn't involve … time travel, ghosts, and the supernatural?”

Tia sat forward as if accepting his challenge. “Okay. Then explain this to me. She was in the field last night. She led me to the auction. I was in the middle of a cornfield I'd never seen before in my life. In the middle of one of the craziest thunderstorms of the last ten years. Believe me, all I wanted was to get the hell out of there, but it was like she pulled me into that shed.”

Ben spent a moment and she could tell he really was thinking about it, but she knew he still wasn't convinced.

“All right then, explain this. You didn't find the girl from the van, Tia. Why not?”

Tia got his point and looked away. Ben wasn't about to let her off the hook.

“Sure, you found some other woman, who definitely needed finding, but weren't you expecting the girl you saw in Milwaukee?”

Tia shook her head. “I thought of that, yeah. And the truth is, I don't know. But I don't think it matters either. I heard a voice. I followed it and, well … You know the rest.”

“I don't think you're taking enough credit, Suarez. Sounds to me pretty much like business as usual for you. It's not the first time you pulled a rabbit out of the hat.”

Tia looked at him doubtfully. “Come on, Ben. You know this goes beyond anything like that.”

“Okay, Tia. Fine. I get it. You had a crazy night. But—”

“She's real, Ben.”

“The girl in the van?” he asked. “I know that, Tia. And I should never have doubted you.”

“No. The girl in my head. She's real. Maybe not the way you and I are. She's not walking around, have a beer with you real. But in some way. In some strange way we
can't
understand, she's real.”

“Have you told anyone else about this?” His voice was hesitant.

“No.” She got his meaning. “Don't worry; I'm not going to.”

He sighed in relief. “Probably just as well.”

“But I'm not going to ignore it anymore either. I'm not going to disrespect her like that.”

Silence fell, but it was comfortable. Tia felt more at peace than she had in as long as she could remember. He must have felt it, too, she thought, because he squeezed her hand and smiled at her in a way that he hadn't in a long time. A smile free of worry.

“So what now?” Ben asked.

“I don't know, but I'm not waiting around for Stahl and his team. We've still got a kidnapping case. I say we work that.”

To her surprise, Ben didn't immediately disagree. “You got a starting point?”

“Maybe,” Tia said.

Ben huffed. “Let me guess. You're going to tell me not to ask any questions and you need to work alone.”

“That's why you're the chief, smart guy.”

“The answer is no.”

“I don't remember asking you.”

“Look, Tia—”

She cut him off. “Chief, the deal was I get to work this case, no restrictions. If you still want my resignation, fine. But hear me on this.” Tia leaned forward and looked directly at her boss. “I've sat on my hands for damn near a week while some girl is going through who knows what. Why? Why haven't we done something about that?”

Tia waited for an answer and when none came she went on. “Exactly. There's no reason. A bunch of yahoos show up, stringing together some bullshit about national security, puffing their chests out, making phone calls, telling us they've got the authority of the federal government, and we sit back and do nothing? The hell with that and the hell with them. They can work whatever op they want. But I am going to go find that kid and get her out of there. If I have to do it as a private citizen, fine.”

Ben said nothing and Tia stood. She looked down at him as she said, “Sir, effective immediately, I resign my position with the Newberg Police Department. I appreciate everything you've done for me, but I think this is where I step out.”

She'd taken only a few steps back toward the street when he called out, “Resignation not accepted.”

She turned back. “Excuse me?”

“I said, I don't accept your resignation.” Ben stood. “Damn, Suarez, don't you know there's all kinds of paperwork I have to fill out when someone resigns? Personnel forms. Pension stuff. And you have to write a letter.” He quickly closed the distance between them. “So whatever it is you've got planned, for now, you are a Newberg police detective and you've got all the authority that comes with it. You understand what I'm saying?”

Yeah,
Tia thought.
You're saying you got my back.

“I hear you, Chief,” Tia said. “Thanks.”

“Be careful, Tia.”

“Will do, sir.”

They walked around the house together, both lost in thought. The rest of the Sawyers were still clustered on the front lawn. Tia gave Jake one more hug and said it was time they took in a Brewers game. “Just the two of us, huh?”

His smile was so bright it was practically incandescent.

Tia took Chief Norgaard's hand in both of hers and shook it warmly. “Good seeing you, Chief. Keep fighting your way back, okay?”

The old man spoke, but Tia couldn't make it out.

Alex translated, “He says you look good, too.”

When she pulled away, she glanced back to see their smiling faces. Except for Ben. His expression was somber and his message clear. He was there for her; she knew that. But the time had come. She was on her own and she needed to get this done.

 

ACT III

 

THIRTY-FOUR

Tia slipped up to the back entrance of the Crossroads Café, pulling open the battered screen door that led down a long, narrow hallway. The rusty spring on the door went off like an alarm and the door slammed shut behind her. Tia stopped and waited for some sort of reaction, but no one seemed to notice. She heard the sizzle of grilling meat, along with voices singing in Spanish to the Latin dance music, coming from what she assumed was the kitchen.

By the accents, Tia made them for Oaxacans. A white woman in a flowered muumuu lumbered toward her, filling the space from wall to wall. Feeling trapped, Tia was prepared to give ground, but the woman turned off, squeezing through the restroom door. Tia's anxiety level climbed as she continued down the hall to the dining area. Her heart raced and sweat beaded across her forehead. Everything served as a reminder of the diner in Danville. The linoleum tile on the floor was damn near identical. The stale odors of pike and walleye. Up ahead a stout waitress poured coffee, making small talk with a man at the counter.

No time for one of your ridiculous flashbacks, Suarez.
There was something about meeting a cop she barely knew in an unfamiliar café that caused her to grip the four-shot derringer in her jacket pocket a little tighter and make sure the safety was off. Even that didn't give her much in the way of comfort. Faces from the not-so-distant past flashed across her mind. Paranoia kicked in. What if it was a setup? What if Stahl and Delafield were getting her off by herself? Where would two agents of a semi-legit spook agency draw the line when it came to protecting their case? She rested her trigger finger along the pistol's short barrel and walked into the crowded café.

Looking around at the signs advertising blue-plate specials and “kids eat free,” the place struck her as the kind popular with locals. Delafield sat at a booth alone. The café's dozen or so other patrons—who appeared to be average citizens—were enjoying hearty breakfasts, but Delafield sat stiff backed, a single, untouched cup of coffee on the table. His gaze was fixed on the front entrance and Tia was able to make it all the way to the booth undetected. She clapped him on the back and heard him gulp with surprise.

“Hey, Delafield.” Tia slid into the opposite side of the booth. “The clock's been ticking for a while on this, so I'm not here for long. What did you want to talk about?”

Delafield put his hands out and his gaze darted around the café. In an urgent whisper, he said, “Jesus, keep it down, Suarez.”

Tia didn't lower her voice, but his reaction pretty much convinced her that Delafield was not in cahoots with anyone. Like Tia, Delafield was acting on his own. If that was the case, she wanted to be sure she was the one calling the shots. “I don't really care who hears. I'm done playing games.”

Tia saw the apprehension in the man's face as he looked over his shoulder, in the direction Tia had come from. “Were you followed? Were you careful?”

“Jesus, Delafield,” Tia said. “What are you so worried about? Who's going to follow either one of us?”

Delafield's voice was insistent. “Were you followed?”

“No. I wasn't. But it doesn't much matter if I was. Like I said, I'm done dealing with you people. This is just a courtesy visit. I've decided the best thing for me to do is head over to the Waukesha County Courthouse and swear out an arrest warrant against Tanner. While I'm at it, I'll get a search warrant for his place. I'll do my best not to step on your operation, but you should probably tell Stahl that if he wants Kane he'd better go ahead and pull the pin.”

Delafield didn't exactly relax, but he was able to give a nervous laugh. “Trust me on this, Suarez. You won't be getting any warrants against Jessup Tanner or Gunther Kane.”

“Are you kidding? After what I walked away from last night, I'm just worried the judge might have me arrested for dereliction of duty.”

Delafield shook his head. “If anyone enters Tanner's or Kane's name into a courthouse database, Stahl will know it. You start swearing out warrants? Graham will shut that down with one phone call.”

“Thanks for the warning, but I'm in pretty good with the presiding judge in Waukesha County. I'll give him a heads-up. I think he'll be a little harder to push around than a county sheriff.”

“Really?” Delafield said. “Patricia Graham is a U.S. attorney attached to the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Court. Unless your judge-buddy wants to end up hearing traffic cases in a Sheboygan night court for the rest of his career, he'll stay off her radar screen.”

“She's FISA?” Tia couldn't keep the shock out of her voice.

Delafield ignored Tia's question. “All I'm saying is that Stahl and Graham are connected. Trust me, nothing good will come out of going straight at either one of those two.”

“Bring it,” Tia said, accepting the challenge. “Like I already told you, Delafield, you guys are out of control.”

“I don't disagree with you, but even if we're out of control, we have some heavy-duty backup. Now, do you want to hear my idea or not?”

The waitress approached the booth. Tia waved her off, then waved at Delafield, encouraging him to continue.

“Kane is financing his illegal purchases with money made through human trafficking.”

There it is
, she thought. Tia recalled the conversation in Sawyer's office, when Sheriff Solo revealed the intel his deputies had gained through the illegal tracker. No way she was giving that information to Delafield. The trust wasn't there yet. She looked at Delafield across the table, her face deadpan. “Go on. I'm listening.”

“I'm not talking about the strip club stuff; forget about that. Kane's got a guy on the West Coast who identifies good targets for their little business. He calls Kane, and Kane and Tanner head out there to pick up the merchandise.”

Tia played along, curious to see how much Delafield was willing to talk. How much he really knew about the crimes of Kane and Tanner. “The merchandise?”

“Women. Young. Just across the border and alone. The kind of girl nobody is going to report missing.”

Even with what Solo had already provided, it was hard to hear. Tia sat in silence and allowed Delafield to go on.

“Kane and Tanner are hooked up with a coyote. After he IDs the target and notifies them, he hangs on to the girl until Kane and Tanner come out and close the deal.”

Tia felt the anger building inside. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. That cops would sit by and allow such crimes to occur. Allow innocent girls to be kidnapped and raped. Treated as nothing more than slaves. Fighting for control, she could hear the tremor in her voice.

“How many times? I mean, how many girls have they brought back?”

“So far? At least four,” Delafield said. “They got a regular circuit. Starts in LA. Then Vegas. From there they hit a dozen or so truck stops, a bunch of labor sites, roadside hotels. They were just getting back from the last run when you came across them. Kane surprised everyone when he tried to snatch you off the street.”

The fury began to boil over and still Delafield had more to tell.

“Kane's got an arrangement with a pimp down in Chicago. Once Kane's done with 'em, he sells the girls off for a few hundred bucks. Then they walk the blade in Cicero. Bottom-rung shit.” Delafield shrugged. “From the time Kane makes the snatch until he gets rid of them is usually about three months. I figure he's cleared about thirty or forty-K per girl.”

“Jesus.” Tia shouted in frustration, covering her face with her hands. She had never imagined that Stahl and his team could have been so complicit. So negligent.