Reunited in Danger (18 page)

“Oh, he uses them.” Wattana squinted up at him. “Craig has at least three of them
at his house. Watching the kids, cleaning. He also uses girls in his restaurant, in
the kitchen.”

At least now Logan understood how the man afforded all the luxuries in his life. And
why he never let anyone inside his home.

An hour later, Wattana had finished writing his confession and Logan took it to be
typed up, then returned to his desk.

Quinn stuck his head around the partition. “Search warrant is ready. Captain called
in a favor with the judge. We gotta move.”

He rose and grabbed his vest, following him out.

What was he missing? Everything had fallen into place, but someone else called the
shots in this smuggling ring. Someone close to Craig? Logan thought of Charlie, Ben’s
secretary, and his defensiveness about his briefcase. But Charlie didn’t have the
aggressiveness or the arrogance to run an underground human trafficking organization.

Something nudged him—a fleeting thought—and then it was gone.
Hell
.

They piled into their police cruiser, sped from the lot, and hit the lights and siren.
Three more black and whites screamed after them.

Blood pumped hard and fast through his veins. They were close to solving this case.
But how many people were involved, and who the hell was calling the shots?

…

Keely stood outside the old church, only the streetlights illuminating the area. Charlie
had acted suspicious when they’d asked about his briefcase. Time to find out why.

Last time she was here, Logan had been by her side. But time to face reality. She
might not ever have him by her side again. Besides, it wasn’t as if Charlie would
hurt her. But whatever he was acting cagey over, maybe knowing that would help figure
out why her father and Margaret had been hurt. And if they were still in danger.

She lifted her hand to ring the bell just as the big church door swung open.

“Charlie,” she said, stepping back. “Hi. I was just coming to talk to you.”

Her father’s secretary held the door open and tucked his briefcase under his arm.
“Sure. Come on in.” He motioned for her to follow, and she fell into step behind him.

He took a seat on a worn but sturdy bench in the hallway outside the offices and perched
his briefcase on his knees.

Keely glanced from his briefcase to his face. His lips were pressed in a thin line,
and his gaze flickered around the hallway to the floor, the pictures on the wall,
and the briefcase. Everywhere but her face. Nervousness? Or was he planning something?
She eyed the open doorway, making sure her exit was clear.

“I don’t believe you would hurt my dad, Charlie, but don’t you see how suspicious
it made you seem when you wouldn’t show Logan what’s in your briefcase?”

He lifted his chin and finally made eye contact with her. “Of course I know how it
appears.” Slowly, he unclicked the locks on his briefcase with two loud snaps.

“That day, I had a letter of resignation in my case,” he said quietly. “I was thinking
about leaving for another job, but I’ve decided to stay.” He laid the case on his
lap and opened the top. “Go ahead, look for yourself.”

She peered inside. Sure enough, inside was a letter of resignation, addressed to her
dad. Under it was just a jumble of other church-related documents. Relief flooded
through her so fast that she wanted to get up and hug the man. Charlie hadn’t broken
her dad’s trust. “Thanks for showing me.”

“Don’t tell your dad, okay? After the attack, I decided I wanted to stay. I’m sure
he’d understand, but I don’t want to hurt Ben’s feelings.” He glanced up at her worriedly.

“Okay. I’ll have to tell Logan, of course.”

Charlie nodded.

Now that she could cross Charlie off the list, she needed to recheck others close
to Ben. They posed the most danger if they had anything to do with the attack because
her dad wouldn’t believe his friends would hurt him. But unlike Margaret, Keely wasn’t
strong enough to face down a bad guy by herself. She’d dig around the office and see
if she could generate any leads through the paperwork, and call Dunnigan if she found
anything she could pass on to the police.

“Do you mind if I check my dad’s files again?” she asked Charlie. “Maybe there was
something I missed last time, something that will make sense now that more time has
passed since the attack.”

Charlie stood, looked at his watch. “I’m late for a dinner meeting, but I’ll unlock
the main office for you. The keys to your dad’s office are in my top drawer. Lock
everything up behind you when you leave.”

Keely spent the next few minutes searching the files. Nothing new, nothing that tied
into the attack on her dad, the strange things going on at the Bittingers, or Margaret’s
shooting. She jingled the keys in her hand, and glanced at Dave’s door. Would it be
ethical to search his office? No. But she didn’t have to adhere to the same rules
as the police. This could be her one shot at finding out something new. A note on
his calendar, a file, something incriminating on the Bittingers…anything.

She unlocked the door with the same key used for her dad’s office and flicked on the
light. A row of tall, beige metal cabinets stood at the far end of Dave’s office.
She crossed the room and tugged at the first top drawer.
Damn. Locked.
Moving fast, she checked all of them. All locked. She moved to Dave’s sparsely-covered
desk. Only a desk calendar—without any writing on it—a desktop computer, half-filled
cup of coffee, and a pencil holder graced the top. All the drawers were locked, and
neither of the keys opened them.

With a sigh, she settled her hands on her hips. Well, at least she’d learned about
Charlie’s briefcase. The trip wasn’t a total bust. Her gaze settled on his trash bin,
partially hidden under the desk. An airline logo on a piece of paper caught her attention,
and she pulled it out of the bin.

A confirmation email for a ticket to Thailand. In Dave’s name. Keely’s fingers trembled.
Dave had traveled to Mae Sot, Thailand.

Su Lin was originally from Mae Sot. So was Amy Bittinger.

What the hell did that mean?

“Hello, Keely.” Dave stepped into his office.

She whipped around, holding the paper behind her back.

“What are you doing in my office?”

Her heart slammed and she worked to keep her voice steady. “I needed paper for my
dad’s printer. Do you have any?”

“What’s that paper you got there?” Dave asked, moving around the desk.

The blood rushed from Keely’s face. “Recycling.” She crumpled it up and lobbed it
at the trashcan, where it landed inside.

“Nice swoosh. You should be my assistant coach next year for the youth team.”

Keely forced a laugh. She didn’t want to risk retrieving the paper from the bin. She’d
tell Logan the airline and date. He’d be able to get a copy.

Dave moved toward her, toward the trash bin. Every bone in her body shook. She couldn’t
run past him—he blocked the way. Keeping his gaze on her, he pulled the wadded paper
from the trash and unfolded it on his desk.

“This is what you were holding?” He glanced at Keely.

“I’m not sure. I didn’t look.”

Dave rubbed his jaw with his thumb and forefinger and then glanced at Keely. “My name
is on here.”

“Oh?”

He smiled and moved closer. Not a friendly smile. A smile that sent shivers up her
spine.

Suddenly he was cupping her elbow. “I travel all the time. Meet up with old friends.”

Keely grimaced. “That’s great.” Her voice shook. He was not traveling to Mae Sot to
meet a friend.

His eyes were cold and distant. “Keely. You’re looking at me like I’m the Big Bad
Wolf when I’m really your friend.”

She shrugged out of his grip. “Yes, of course you’re my friend. And my dad’s friend.”

She turned to move around Dave, but he blocked her way.

And then he pulled out a gun.

She gasped at the weapon, suddenly unable to breathe.

“You saw the flight info, Keely. And that means we have a problem.”

Her mind couldn’t get past the cold steel pointed at her.

With his free hand, he smoothed out the paper she’d wadded up and spread it on the
desk. “Funny you ended up seeing this. It’s one of the things I’d tried to get back
from your father.”

She gritted her teeth and glared at him. “What are you talking about? My dad didn’t
have this paper.”

“He took the wrong briefcase. I couldn’t let him see this or the fake IDs inside.”

Oh God
. “Fake IDs? Dave, what have you done?” she whispered.

He lifted and dropped a shoulder. “What any businessman would do. I arranged to get
it back. If he’d only let those boys take it, he would never have gotten hurt.”

Keely’s chest constricted as rage filled her. Dave was the one who arranged the attack
on her father? The betrayal rocked her to her core. But she needed to focus—not lose
her head and freak out. Dave was a big man and he had a gun pointed at her chest.
If she kept him talking, kept him distracted, she could reach the phone in her pocket,
call for help. “But you’re his friend. Why would you hurt my dad?”

“Get your hands where I can see them, Keely.” He gaze slid to her jacket. “I don’t
want to hurt you, too, but I will if I have to. And your dad wasn’t even supposed
to be there. He was supposed to be at the damn airport, but that stupid girl’s flight
was changed.”

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, working to keep her voice from shaking, to keep
from moaning. “How on earth would someone like you end up— My God. Surely, you’re
not involved in human trafficking?”

He made a pained face. “Such an ugly word.”

“It’s an ugly thing. Why, Dave? I don’t understand.”

“A friend arranged the first woman for me. I bought her to help my parents. They’re
old, and, well…I couldn’t afford to pay for help. Not on a church manager’s salary.
Free help was… free.” He looked like he thought he was clever. But not contrite. Not
a shadow of guilt in his eyes. “Then I found that others needed the same kind of help,
too. And a lot of the teens I coached at church had let’s say…connections. I saw a
business opportunity.”

She wanted to kick his ass, tell him to go to hell. “Heaven forbid you pass that up.”

“I’m glad you see that.”

All she saw was red—and a desperate need for revenge. But she’d play along for now,
wait for her chance to strike back. Because staring down the barrel of a gun didn’t
give her any other option.

“You’ll be coming with me now. No way am I going to let Ben’s busybody do-gooder daughter
ruin my business plan.” He held the gun to her temple and moved behind her. “Go ahead.
Lead us out of here. Things will go better for you if you do as I say.”

She nodded and bit her lip until she tasted blood, trying to think of ways to escape.
Wait until they were outside and make a run for it? Maybe—

Her cell phone rang.

“Get going,” Dave said, pressing the gun into her temple.

Forget running once she got outside. She might not even make it that far. She whirled,
stomped on his insole, and sprinted for the door. But she wasn’t fast enough.

Dave’s arm swung at her. The cold metal of the gun smacked against her skull, and
everything went black.

Chapter Seventeen

Logan shifted his body to the right in the police cruiser as Quinn took a fast corner.
Two unmarked cars led the way to Bittinger’s house for the raid. The siren blared
and adrenaline pulsed through every vein, and to every one of Logan’s limbs.
Human trafficking
. He fisted his hands so tight his short nails dug into his palms.

He relaxed one hand enough to dig out his phone and call Keely again. “Come on, come
on, baby. Pick up.” For a second time, her phone went to voicemail.

“You calling Keely?” Quinn floored it and the patrol car sped along a straight stretch
of deserted city street.

“Yeah.” Logan shook his head. “She left me a message earlier saying she’d staked out
Craig Bittinger’s house, and then went to talk to Charlie at the church.” He’d broken
up with her, but thank God she’d heeded his earlier words about her safety being at
risk. Having a cop know her whereabouts was a smart move.

Except he had no idea where she was now. Why wasn’t she picking up?

Quinn cut the lights and siren, and whipped around to look at him. With only the dim
city streetlights to illuminate the interior of the car, Logan couldn’t make out the
expression on his partner’s face.

“Bittinger didn’t see her, did he?”

“I sure as hell hope not.”

Quinn steered behind the Bittinger’s townhouse. Two more squad cars and two undercover
sedans, with headlights turned off, rolled silently into place.

They’d synchronize their entry to be sure nobody got hurt and nobody escaped. There
were children in the house, but there was no way to get them out without tipping off
the adults. Tension built. This was the kind of take-down they all lived for. An adrenaline
rush. The part when all of the legwork and investigating was finally going to pay
off.

God, it felt good.

Quinn chomped his gum. Logan took a deep breath, readying himself for the bust. Movement
inside the house revealed several shadows. His body tensed, his muscles coiled and
bunched. He was ready to spring into action.

They waited for a signal from the captain. Every man and woman had to be in place,
then they’d storm the house in seconds. Logan tapped the steering wheel.

The SWAT commander raised his flashlight.

Officers jumped from vehicles and raced into place. Logan and Quinn drew their guns,
crouched behind their open car doors. SWAT would go through the front. A chorus of
shouts from the front and the sound of splintering wood alerted them SWAT had made
entry.

Seconds later, the sliding glass door on the lower level opened and the upstairs deck
door also slammed open. A half dozen women rushed from the house, headed right for
the waiting officers.

Quinn and another patrolman flicked on their spotlights at the same time. Blinded,
the women stopped.

“Police. Freeze!” the captain shouted.

A translator shouted instructions in Thai.

“What’s going on?” a shrill female voice called.

“Hands in the air,” Logan shouted.

Four petite women with wide eyes stood frozen on the grassy fenced-in yard, hands
raised. Amy and her five children stood on the back deck. Shadows behind them closed
in and a SWAT agent grabbed Amy, held her hands behind her.

“Go,” Quinn yelled.

Logan and the others rushed into the yard. He let the others handle the women and
raced up the back porch steps to Bittinger’s wife. “Where’s your husband?”

Amy glared at him through watery eyes. She glanced at the officers escorting her small
children. “How dare you? Get your hands off those children!”

Logan stood in front of her. “Where’s Craig?”

A cold breeze kicked across the deck, scattering dry leaves. Despite the late hour,
neighbors opened windows and gathered on nearby porches. Logan stared at Amy expectantly.

“I’m not talking to you. This is ridiculous. Why would you force your way into our
house like this?”

The SWAT agent cuffed her hands behind her back and she lifted her chin.

“We’ll have a nice chat about our reasons when we get you to the city jail, Mrs. Bittinger.”

The woman’s eyes widened and she paled.

He needed to find out who her husband’s boss was. He was so close to cracking this,
he could feel it. Could he figure it out before anyone else got hurt?

And where the hell was Keely?

…

Logan crossed his arms and stared at Amy Bittinger across the table. Hours earlier,
he’d been interviewing her brother in this same room. He’d been one of the boat crewmembers.
Now they’d both be behind bars. Logan nodded at Quinn, a silent message for his partner
to jump into the questioning when he saw fit. Good cop, bad cop.

Logan liked being the bad cop.

Amy’s makeup ran down her cheeks in black smudges. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes.
Logan couldn’t help mentally comparing Keely’s fresh, girl-next-door, freckled face
with Amy’s perfectly made up one. Compared to how real and open Keely was, Amy seemed
fake.

“Your kids are asking for you,” Logan said. Low blow? Maybe. Using a mother’s maternal
guilt or instincts often worked to get a confession. In the end, that made the tactic
useful. Sure had worked on her brother. “The faster you tell us who is bringing these
girls into the country, the quicker we can let you see your kids. Maybe you’re not
even a part of this, Mrs. Bittinger. Maybe it’s all on your husband. If so, you can
leave without any charges being pressed. Get back to your kids.” Possible. Not likely.

She blinked several times, sniffled, and then sat up straighter. “You can’t hold me
here. I can call my lawyer.”

“We can’t stop you from calling your lawyer. You’ve been read your rights.”

“But I’m innocent. I didn’t do anything, so I don’t need a lawyer.”

Logan stood. If the thought of her children being upset didn’t do the trick, he’d
have to move to a different tactic. He needed to find the mastermind behind this organization.
Anger burned inside him at the woman for not giving up the information he needed.

“I’m having a very busy night, Mrs. Bittinger. I’ll have the on-duty officer escort
you to a holding cell. We’ll talk in the morning.” He turned for the door.

“What? I’m not spending the night in jail! You can’t do that.”

“I can and will put you in jail,” he said, calmly. “I already know your husband arranged
to have women shipped into this country illegally. What’s your part in it? Did you
train the girls? Did you threaten them? Did you transport them from another country
to the US?”

“I certainly didn’t do anything illegal. Someone else did all that.”

“Someone from Loving Arms?” When she remained silent, he continued. “Someone from
the church?”

At that, her gaze flickered.

Aha. That meant something.

Wait—

The tickle in the back of his mind that had been pestering him for days suddenly clicked.
Lenny and Chayce were locals, well-known in the community. Dave was active in the
church’s outreach programs, hanging out with the local teens. Dave had said he’d never
met the boys, but that didn’t seem right, given how active the man was with the local
youth. A picture of Dave and a winning basketball team had been at Ben’s, prominently
displayed. Logan struggled to recall the images in the picture. He yanked out his
phone and scrolled to his camera roll, to the pictures he’d taken at Ben’s house after
the robbery. He enlarged the photo of Ben’s dining room shelf. In the picture of Dave
and the winning team, Lenny and Chayce’s images smiled broadly at him. They’d been
younger then, but
they were in the picture
.

Dave had lied—he’d known both boys, and had known them well. They’d been the goddamned
stars of Dave’s winning team.

“Dave,” he said aloud.

Amy’s eyes widened in panic.

“Can’t hide anymore, Amy.”

“Dave did everything.” She bit her bottom lip, as if she couldn’t believe she’d said
it aloud.

Logan and Quinn exchanged a knowing glance.

“Everything?” Logan crossed his arms on his chest and hovered over the woman.

“Once after visiting Mae Sot, I mentioned how many girls were desperate to leave the
country and get jobs in the US. After that, he started traveling there and bringing
girls back each time. Dave went to Thailand once a month to stalk the bus stops and
street corners. He went to California, Mexico, too. He’s the one who shipped them
off and got the money from his customers. Not me. I didn’t do any of the bad stuff.
I treated those girls with kindness. I fed them, gave them—”

Logan smacked the wall and Amy jumped. “Don’t you mean they cooked for you?”

She glanced at Quinn. “I’m not talking to him anymore. He’s rude. I’ll tell you what
you want to know, though. You promise it will get me a more lenient sentence?”

“We’ll absolutely let the court know you cooperated. Judges take that into consideration
at sentencing.” Quinn stepped forward. Amy had just walked straight into their trap.

She nodded. “Dave sold the girls, not us. Craig used them in his restaurant, and I
helped them learn useful skills around the house, but I never hurt them.”

Logan ground his teeth. He hated this woman for her stupidity, was furious at her
for her selfish thoughts. Wanted to rage at her for what she’d done to so many innocent
girls.

Then a realization sank in.

He hated her, was furious with her, but he didn’t want to hit her. He wouldn’t hit
a woman, and he wouldn’t hit a child.

His father never would have been able to sit across the table from someone who made
him so angry and still manage to keep his hands to himself.

But Logan could. He
wasn’t
a brutal jerk like his father. Never would be.

Keely had given him the key to realize what he’d believed his entire life had been
a lie. That he didn’t need any kind of violence to express his feelings.

Because of Keely, he now knew he was capable of love.

And the woman he loved was Keely.

Amy leaned back in her chair with wide eyes. “Why are you smiling like that?”

What a ridiculous time to realize he was in love with Keely—in the middle of a major
investigation, in the middle of a key interview.
Hell
. Who said love was sensible?

He focused back on Amy. He still had a job to do. “Were you aware that the girls you
so kindly taught household skills were being shipped off and sold?”

“Well, yes, but they were nice households and—”

“Were you also aware that the sale of a human being is considered human trafficking
under Maryland law?” If stupidity and selfishness were trees, Amy Bittinger would
be a forest.

She pressed her lips together.

“What did Ben Allen have to do with this? Why was he attacked?” Logan asked.

Amy rolled her eyes. “That was his own fault. He took the wrong briefcase from the
church offices. Before he left for the airport, Ben went into Dave’s office. Craig
was there. Ben took the briefcase with the passports Craig had made and some of Dave’s
papers. Craig told me Dave arranged to have it taken care of.”

“And that would be how?” Logan asked, making notes on his notepad, even though he
knew the video camera was getting the whole interview on tape. He knew the answer
already—Chayce and Lenny had to be who Dave had called. “Those two boys who were killed.”

Her eyes opened wide.

“Chayce and Lenny,” he prodded.

“Yes. Dave told them to get the briefcase, but then Ben fought them, and they had
to hurt him. See? It was his own fault.”

“What about Margaret? Did Dave tell Chayce and Lenny to shoot Margaret?” He intensified
the anger in his tone, trying to scare her, and forced himself to look into her empty
eyes. All she cared about was herself. She wasn’t telling him any of this to help
with the investigation, and she sure as hell wasn’t showing any remorse.

“Oh, no. Not Dave. Someone else told them to kill Margaret. She’s a busybody. Took
pictures when she shouldn’t have.”

“Who ordered Chayce and Lenny to shoot Margaret?” He leaned in close, practically
shouting in her ear.

“The other ones! The two drug dealers!” She pressed her lips together and looked around
the room.

Shit
. Had she finally realized she needed a lawyer?

“Go on, Mrs. Bittinger. You’re being a big help. We’re going to take good care of
you, I promise,” Logan said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
Come on, come on…tell us how the dealers were involved.
“Who are the other two drug dealers?”

Amy shrugged. “The important ones. The ones who helped connect Craig with druggie
parents willing to sell their kids.”

…

Logan stood outside the interrogation room. Amy’s words had made him sick to his stomach.
Twice he’d tried to call Keely, but the calls had gone straight to voicemail. He needed
to warn her, needed to tell her who’d hurt her dad. And he also needed to tell her
he loved her.

But first he had to find Dave. He speed-dialed Ben.

“Logan?”

“Is Keely with you? Is Dave there?”

“No, she isn’t here yet. Should be here any minute. And Dave left ages ago.”

Logan tensed. He tried not to picture what Keely could have gotten herself into by
being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe she hadn’t charged her phone, maybe
she’d left it at home. Damn it, she needed to answer his calls.

“Is something wrong?” Ben asked.

As much as Logan wanted to protect Ben, he had to be honest. “I don’t know. I can’t
get in touch with Keely, and Dave might be involved in something very bad.”

“Dave?” Ben sucked in a breath. “What do you mean? What did he do? I mean, he can
be a bit abrasive and wants things his own way, but I can’t imagine him doing anything
wrong.”

“I can’t get into it now. Tell Beatrice what I’ve told you. Tell her to cuff Dave
and read him his rights if he shows up, and have Keely call me as soon as she gets
there. I’m heading to the church now to look for her. Stay put, Ben. I’ll find her.
I promise.”