Fatal Secrets (38 page)

Dean slammed his palm on the table. “That’s not an option.”

“I’m sorry, when was the Constitution repealed?”

“I don’t like you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“The only reason you’re here is because Sonia thinks you will help.”

At the mention of Sonia’s name, Cammarata’s eyes shifted. He swallowed uneasily, asked gruffly, “She okay, after today?”

Dean didn’t answer the question. “This is the deal. You help us locate the Chinese women Omega transported into the area, and I let you go.”

“If I knew where they were, I would have told Sonia.”

“Just like you gave her the journal? A day late and a dollar short?”

Cammarata leaned forward. “You don’t know anything about me or Sonia.”

Dean wasn’t going to rise to the bait, but his gut churned. “I know you pretend to care about her, but she’ll be the first you’ll sacrifice if it gets you what you want.”

“What do you know about what I want? My record was stellar.”

“Your record was built on the backs of other agents you used or sacrificed so you could take the credit and glory. You’re right, I don’t understand you. I don’t understand how you could sell your own partner and not even send in backup.”

“We saved dozens of innocent civilians.”

“And you were willing to let Sonia die.” Dean stood. “Sonia has more compassion in her little finger than you have in that huge ego you carry. She seems to have forgiven you. I haven’t. I never will. You have two choices. Agree to help, share all information you know, adhere to all my conditions, and I’ll grant you immunity for your part in this fiasco. Or you can go back to jail and I will have you prosecuted for every last charge the U.S. attorney and I can come up with. But you will
never
get out of prison. Those are your choices. You have five minutes.”

Dean walked out and shut the door. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to work with that bastard. But they had little to no choice at this point. Time was running out, and Sonia’s idea was that somewhere in that man’s memory was information that
would lead them to the women. If that was the case, Dean had to use him. Lives were at stake. Sonia’s life was at stake until they stopped this ring of traffickers.

He didn’t have to like it.

Bob Richardson came around the corner. “Did he agree?”

“He’s thinking.”

“I sent out the press release and photos of Ling and Devereaux and am giving a statement as soon as the media gets here. This is a risk.”

“I know. But we have to do it. Devereaux is in hiding and as long as he’s free, Agent Knight is in danger. Not to mention the captive women. I feel like we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t.”

“I hear you. But you’re right, it’s our only option at this point. You take anyone you need.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Richardson walked away and Dean glanced at his watch. He walked back into the interview room.

Without looking at him, Cammarata said, “I’ll do it. I want it in writing.”

“My word is going to have to be good enough for you.” He uncuffed him, but didn’t let down his guard.

Cammarata looked like he wanted to punch him, but didn’t.

“Show me what you have.”

Sonia tensed when she saw Charlie walk into the conference room. Neither he nor Dean looked happy with the arrangement, and she wasn’t one hundred percent sure they were doing the right thing. But they were stuck. Devereaux, or someone else on his orders, had already brutally murdered three of the women and Sonia had no
doubt they would kill others if it would further the criminals’ goals.

Sonia made a quick introduction of Charlie Cammarata as a civilian consultant in this investigation and caught Dean’s eye. She couldn’t read him again, but she’d never forget his brief, powerful emotions in his apartment. Dean Hooper was the personification of the saying “still waters run deep” and Sonia would never doubt his compassion or honor.

“Mr. Cammarata has some knowledge of Xavier Jones’s movements during the weeks prior to his murder and can hopefully help us narrow the search.”

Sam said, “I’m concerned that if we start an open search we’ll spook them and they’ll run.”

“They’ll kill the women first,” Sonia said, glancing at Charlie for confirmation. He nodded. She continued, “Based on information Mr. Cammarata had from Jones, the women are likely being held in a secure facility in the foothills. It needs to be accessible to small planes or helicopters, as well as vehicle traffic. But it also needs to be remote and a place where a civilian wouldn’t stumble onto it by accident.”

Dean crossed the room and stood next to her. “It’s privately owned and most likely on Rio Diablo tribal lands.”

“Rio Diablo?” Sam said. “We can’t go there.”

“That’s exactly why it’s there,” Dean said. He gestured toward a whiteboard where he had columns of numbers under the headings of
RIO DIABLO, WEBER, OMEGA, XCJ SECURITY, XCJ CONSULTING
. “After we went further back into XCJ Consulting records, we came up with these large transactions. The statute of limitations has expired on this, but it shows a pattern
that we were then able to overlay to current payments.” He quickly went through the list. “You can see that payments increased over a twelve-year period, from the time Jones opened his consulting firm. Secondarily, the three clients paid Jones’s security company for personnel and other security measures that are incredibly difficult to track or confirm. The lobbying activities are suspect as well, as the money paid to XCJ is far more than what similar companies would make from the same sort of clients.”

Charlie asked, “So what’s your point? They were paying Jones, probably paying him for protection or as a bribe. Big fucking deal. There is far more at stake here.”

Sonia cringed, realizing that she had thought something similar when she first learned of the racketeering and money laundering investigation. She said, “Charlie, the point is, Agent Hooper has figured out how Jones laundered his trafficking money.”

“He’s dead, so there’s no point. You can’t put him in prison, Eliot Ness,” Charlie said smugly.

Dean ignored Charlie and said, “We now believe that Jones was giving the three entities the money to pay his fees. There was two hundred fifty thousand the first year, three hundred the second year, and it’s gone up exponentially since—last year it topped fifteen million.”

Sam shook his head. “So he receives the money as legitimate income, pays taxes, and it’s clean.”

“Exactly.”

“I don’t believe this,” Charlie rolled his eyes.

Sonia snapped. “I don’t care what you believe, Charlie. You’re missing the big picture. Rio Diablo is a recognized Native American tribe. We have no jurisdiction. We can’t
go search their land or issue search warrants. We have to go through their tribal council—”

“Which will take time and cost us in leaks,” Dean finished for her.

“That’s it,” Sonia said. “They’re there, on that land.” She turned to the big map, took a red Sharpie, and traced the boundaries of Rio Diablo land. “That’s about a thousand acres.”

“I’ll go check it out,” Charlie said.

“No,” Sonia and Dean said simultaneously.

“We go in smart,” Dean said. “No mavericks in this. If we’re going to get a conviction we need to do it right.”

“What about the girls?” Charlie said. “You fucking Fibbies only care about your clearance rate. Do you even care about the fate of those China dolls?”

“Charlie!” Sonia said and crossed the room. “Don’t even go there. If we don’t catch the people responsible, they’ll keep doing it, and they’ll be smarter next time. The only reason we’re this close to nailing them is because ICE and the FBI are working together and sharing information. Something I know
you
have a hard time with. Either you help us or you can go back to jail.”

“So you drank the Kool-Aid,” Charlie mumbled.

“I don’t know you,” Sonia whispered, deep sadness spreading through her chest.

Charlie looked stunned. “Sonia, I am trying to help, which is why I need to go in alone. I know that area. I’ve been on Rio Diablo land. Jones went up there every week. He’s tight with the three leaders of the tribe. There’re only a dozen people in the tribe, I didn’t think much of it, but what a scam. They’re building a casino, great location, too.”

“Even if I trusted you, you’re not going up there
alone. But if you really want to help, go over to that map”—she pointed—“and identify where those girls are being held.”

He wanted to say something; she saw it in his face, in the way his mouth opened slightly, then snapped shut. He walked past her and she breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed her forehead.

When she looked up, Dean was watching her. He gave her a half-smile and nod, and her headache faded to the background. He held her gaze for a moment, then followed Charlie to the map.

“This is all pretty heavily forested,” Charlie said.

Sam stood next to him. “I know this area fairly well. Not Rio Diablo land, but the Sierra Nevadas. This was all mining country, from Nevada County up north, down to past Calaveras. Gold, silver, copper. There’re roads all over … here, here, here.” He highlighted them. “All those can handle a good-sized truck.”

“Where’s the casino going?” Charlie asked.

Dean pointed to a green pin. “It’s almost complete. Supposed to open next spring.”

“I don’t see planes coming in and out of here,” Charlie said. They don’t need much room, but it’s hard to see if there’s a flat enough area to build a runway.”

“Can they land on a road?” Sam asked. “Here’s a straight stretch on Salamander Gulch Road, and the road ends here.”

“Definitely possible, especially if the road is in good shape,” Charlie said. “Though they’ll land just about anywhere as long as they have the clearance.”

“International private plane travel is heavily restricted and regulated,” Sonia said.

Charlie dismissed her comment with a wave. “They
cross the border any number of places—no way we can cover every mile of border twenty-four/seven. They’re damn geniuses when money is involved, and they take physical risks on land, air, and sea. Low-flying planes, commercial vehicles, boats of all sizes. Jones flew into Mexico last week and it was a snap. No questions.”

“How?” Dean asked sharply.

Charlie didn’t want to tell him, more out of spite than to keep a secret, but he relented. “He has two planes. They flew into a small private airstrip near the border in the middle of the desert, drove through showing fake I.D. and passports, and picked up a plane in Alicia.”

“What was he doing in Mexico?” Dean asked.

“That has nothing to do with this.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Charlie turned to the map and ignored Dean. Sonia put a hand on Dean’s arm, his muscles hard and tight. She squeezed.

Charlie said, “They need to be close. They won’t require much space, but they’ll need a place to wash.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Would you buy a woman who’d been sleeping in her clothes for a week and walking around in her own waste?”

“Charlie,” Sonia said sharply. “We’re on the same team right now, aren’t we?”

He glared at her, but lost his venom. Sonia was growing weary of the game.

“So water source,” Sonia said, “and shelter. Secure, so they don’t have any runners. Where no matter how loud the women were, no one would hear. Though they would be quiet, out of fear.”

Trace Anderson came into the room. “I got her in your interview room.” He stared at Charlie, stunned.

Sonia said simply, “He’s helping us.”

“I’ll be right there,” Dean said. To Sonia he said, “Do you want to interview Christopoulis with me?”

“Who?” Charlie interrupted.

“I don’t believe this is your business,” Dean said coolly.

“He said ‘her.’ There’s only one female Christopoulis. The queen bitch, Victoria.”

“You know her?” Sonia said.

“In my other identity as Chuck Angelo. Let me do this.”

“Hell no,” Dean said.

“I can bluff her. I know some of her dirty secrets—Jones shared them after I met her.” Charlie’s eyes widened in excitement and for a split second, Sonia saw the old Charlie, the younger, idealistic Charlie who had once been a good agent and a valuable mentor. “I’ll tell her Jones was turning state’s evidence. It’ll freak her out. She’ll turn. I promise, if you let me do it, she’ll turn.”

Sonia nodded to Dean and motioned to leave the room. She walked out with him and closed the door.

“I think he’s right. If she knows where they are, this will save us a lot of time. Let him go with you.”

“It’ll open us up in court—”

“Dean, you don’t even have to say who he is. It’s a bluff. She’ll think what we want her to think without either of you saying a word. He can lie. Hell, he can tell her we faked Jones’s death and he’s in witness protection as we speak. The only problem with that is if she was part of it.”

“I see your point.” Dean ran his thumbs down her
face, across her lips, dropped his hand. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m good.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t have to.”

Dean didn’t want to do this, but he understood the strategy and he could see it working. He rubbed the back of Sonia’s neck as they returned to the conference room. Cammarata was watching. “Sam, find out where the assistant U.S. attorney is—she’s someplace around here—and ask her to observe. Cammarata, you’re with me.”

Dean knew the interview would be a success from the minute they walked into the room. Victoria Christopoulis’s rigid back was to them and Dean walked around the table and introduced himself. “Ms. Christo poulis, I’m Assistant Director Dean Hooper with the FBI, and I think you’ve already met Charlie Cammarata—though you knew him as Chuck Angelo.”

Cammarata walked around and sat down across from the regal Greek matriarch of the Christopoulis clan. He leaned back and grinned, looking younger and confident while he pretended to be laid back. “Vicky! Good to see you again. I had a feeling I’d be seeing you in prison one of these days.”

The shock on the woman’s face was priceless. The shock was followed by disbelief. “I-I don’t understand. I don’t know why I’m here.” She gained confidence as she spoke. “I’ve been harassed by your government all day.”