Unfinished Business (18 page)

 
Christy leaned forward in her chair as she read the information on her computer screen. Vanuatu was a small island in the South Pacific located three-quarters of the way from Hawaii to Australia. The land area was slightly larger than Connecticut and had the natural hazards that were associated with islands in that region, namely, cyclones and typhoons. The terrain was mainly mountainous islands. The legal system was a unified one created under both French and British rule, and the three official languages were English, French, and Bislama.

She continued reading and lifted a brow when she read that a large amount of the island’s money was made from imports. She couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps some of those imports were human beings being shipped illegally.

She turned from her desk and picked up the information she had printed out of her computer earlier. It was a list containing the ships that had left the port the same morning Mark had gotten killed. What she’d found interesting was that there was a huge shipping vessel owned by Dove Distributors, and the destination had been Vanuatu.

A chill crept up Christy’s spine, but she refused to shake off the feeling. It didn’t take much to be convinced that a ship headed for Vanuatu the same day Mark was killed was more than just a coincidence.

Switching her attention back to the computer, she checked to see what ships were due in the Vanuatu port within the coming weeks. She scanned the list, murmuring the names aloud. Her breath caught after saying one particular name. The ship owned by Dove Distributors was on the list and was due in port in two days.

She wondered if the ship was linked to any Philly high-rollers or politicians. After an entire hour of checking several sites on the Internet and coming up with nothing, she decided to make a call to a college friend who worked for the governor of Pennsylvania. Judith Akins did some checking and called her back within an hour with some very interesting information. Pennsylvania’s Senator John Harris’s family owned Dove Distributors. Judith indicated that fact had been a bit hidden, since the senator was not involved in any activities relating to that particular business.

Christy ended her conversation with Judith and shouted, “Bingo!”

She glanced back at the computer screen and again read the information that the ship was due into the Vanuatu port in two days. What she was thinking about doing was pretty damn risky, but she intended to do it anyway. Her passport was up to date, and this was the break she had been waiting for. If there was human cargo on that ship, then she intended to expose them.

A part of her wanted to call Alex and ask him to go with her, but after tonight she knew how he felt about her involvement in the Patterson case. If he had any idea what she planned to do, he would probably try and stop her. She wouldn’t put it past him to call her brothers and get them involved.

No, she couldn’t tell Alex what she planned to do under any circumstances. The less he knew of her travel plans, the better.

“Now that you know I’m a federal agent, will you put that gun away?” Ford asked in a somewhat shaky voice. He was twenty-eight and had been with the Bureau for a couple of years. Recently he had begun thinking that this wasn’t the type of job he was suited for. Returning to Iowa and going back to work for a police department sounded real nice, especially now.

“Not until you tell me what’s the Bureau’s interest in Christy Madaris.”

Ford sighed. “I can’t divulge that information, and if you continue to hold that gun on me you’ll find yourself in real serious trouble.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed. “No offense, but I don’t give a damn. It’s you who owe me an explanation, and I want one.”

Ford frowned. “I can’t give you one. I’m merely following orders.”

“From who?”

“My boss.”

“Then let’s get him on the phone.”

Alex stepped back as Ford walked back to the car, opened the door, then eased slowly into the seat. He punched some numbers into a phone that was installed in the car’s console.

“Put it on speaker,” Alex ordered, keeping his gun leveled on the man.

Within seconds a voice came on the phone. “Baker here.”

“This is Ford.”

“Yeah, Ford?”

“It’s about the woman I’ve been ordered to watch.”

“I’m glad you checked back in,” the deep masculine voice said. “I ran the license number of that car through the system, and it’s rented to an Alexander J. Maxwell. Your suspicions were correct. Maxwell does have a background in law enforcement. It seems that he used to be an agent with us before leaving to start his own detective agency a few years ago. I’m pulling contacts now to determine his involvement in all of this. If your guess is right and he
is
the woman’s boyfriend, we might have problems. From what I understand from someone who used to work with Maxwell, he’s a boy wonder when it comes to solving cases. And I’ve also heard that he isn’t someone you want to tangle with.”

Without taking his eyes off Ford, Alex leaned forward and reached out and pushed the talk button. “Baker, this is Alexander Maxwell. Your advice came too late. Ford
has
tangled with me and I suggest someone come up with some answers real quick to get him untangled.”

A couple of hours later, back in his hotel room, Alex poured coffee into four mugs, then turned to the three men standing in his hotel room and handed each a cup.

It had been an hour since the two agents had arrived and had identified themselves as Oran Baker and Stan Coulter. But still, Alex hadn’t been told what he wanted to know. He didn’t need a sixth sense to figure out when someone was leading him in circles. One thing about a circle: there wasn’t a point in it.

He stared at Oran Baker, who was evidently the boss, and said, “Don’t you think it’s time you leveled with me and let me know what’s going on?”

Baker slowly poured cream into his coffee. “Like I told you, this is a highly confidential investigation and—”

“And like I told you, I don’t give a royal damn about that when my fiancée is involved.”

Baker lifted a brow. “Fiancée?”

Alex’s gaze didn’t waver. Christy wasn’t his fiancée but she was
his
and he wasn’t going to apologize for staking his claim. Besides, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. “Either you tell me what’s going on or I’ll find out for myself.”

Alex watched as the three men exchanged glances before Baker sighed deeply. “Your involvement might impede our investigation.”

Alex lifted his dark brow. “Frankly, I don’t give a shit.”

Baker took a sip of coffee before saying, “You should, unless you want to place your life in danger.”

Alex shrugged. “It’s been there before. Danger doesn’t bother me any.”

“Then are you willing to place your fiancée’s life in danger?”

Alex moved around the bed and sat down, leaving the three men standing. “The way I see it, her life could be in danger anyway, but I really don’t know, since the three of you seem to have locked jaws.”

Baker drew in a deep breath. “You’re making this rather difficult, Maxwell.”

“Good.”

Baker took another sip of coffee and Alex exhaled slowly. He knew what the man was doing—trying his patience, toying with his control. But he refused to back down.

It took a few minutes for the reality to dawn on Baker that Alex’s position wouldn’t change. “The street name is the Body Snatchers, but the official name of the organization that stretches over several countries and continents is the Kantar Cartel,” he said finally. “Have you heard of them?”

Alex shook his head. “No.”

Baker nodded slowly. “Then let me tell you about them,” he said, taking a wingback chair in the room. “Three years ago an informant working a drug bust brought to our attention that teenage girls—mostly runaways—were being snatched off the streets in Philly and shipped out of the country to be part of a slave trade. It started out as a small operation, but now it has escalated into a billion-dollar business and expanded worldwide.”

Alex released a long whistle. “That’s some business.”

Baker stared into his coffee and said, “Yes, which equates to a lot of young girls being sexually abused and exploited, most between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.”

He lifted his head and met Alex’s gaze. “It took the Bureau a solid two years to piece together information, follow up on leads, and plant informants in the right places before we discovered a growing network behind this operation that included the involvement of wealthy businessmen from all over the world and highly respected leaders and politicians from various countries.”

After taking a sip of coffee, he continued, “The girls, and oftentimes young boys, are exploited as sex slaves for tourists who consist of both Western and Eastern males traveling to specific countries for the sole purpose of fulfilling their sexual fantasies. Within the past eighteen months, we have tightened our investigation, and it’s just a matter of time before we close in on the operation. We would have done so sooner, but Mark Tyler’s death set us back. Somehow he found out about the kidnappings, and it was brought to our attention. Since the runaways felt comfortable talking to Mark, he was assigned to the investigation on a local level. Once he began asking questions, the cartel didn’t hesitate to take him out. Luckily for Morganna Patterson, no one took her seriously, until your fiancée came along. If word gets out that she’s snooping—if it isn’t out already—it could mean bad news for Miss Madaris as well as bad news for us. It will set us back again, which means more girls will be taken against their will. So it’s imperative that Christina Madaris stop her investigation.”

Alex inhaled deeply at the thought of the danger Christy was now in. “What about Cincinnati’s FBI Agent Horace Mansfield and Lieutenant Jones of the Philadelphia Police Department? Christy got stonewalled when she questioned them.”

“They’re working with us and were operating under our direct orders. We couldn’t let anything or anyone impede our investigation when we were so close to ending this nightmare for those young teens.”

Alex leaned forward. “What about the guy who manages the dock in Philly?”

Baker’s lips drew in a serious line. “Hank Adams is definitely tied in with the cartel, and we have more than enough evidence to prove he was involved in Mark Tyler’s death. And if the cartel knows about your fiancée’s meddling, it’s because Adams tipped them off.”

Baker sighed deeply. “As a former agent, I think you can understand how important it is for us to do whatever we can to bring an end to this cartel.”

Alex nodded. He did understand and Christy would understand, too, if he could give her the same facts he’d just been given, but he couldn’t. He knew how the FBI operated. There was a trust factor involved, and men’s lives—namely those of their agents and informants—were at stake. Baker didn’t know Christy like Alex did. To Baker she was a reporter, and reporters went after stories. She might agree to stop her investigation, but they couldn’t take the chance that she wouldn’t decide to publish the story at the least opportune time.

“We know the players in this sick game and the names that head the list are of a number of well-respected politicians in this country. But there are more. Fortunately, we have been able to get two respected world leaders to assist us by joining the cartel and becoming informants.”

“Who are they?” Alex asked.

“One is a high-ranking official within the French government, and the other is a wealthy sheikh from the Middle East. Both men have proven to be resourceful and trustworthy and have provided us with a ton of valuable information while placing their lives in danger.”

Alex knew how important trusted informants were in any undercover operation.

“Now that I’ve told you everything,” Baker was saying, “I’m sure you can understand the importance of Ms. Madaris ending her investigation as soon as possible, and we need to count on you to make sure that happens.”

Alex inhaled, thinking of the argument that he and Christy had had earlier that night, and knew meeting Baker’s request wouldn’t be an easy task. But then, the man was right. Until the Bureau brought an end to things, innocent girls would continue to be sexually exploited.

“Can we count on you, Maxwell?”

Alex shifted his gaze from Baker and fixed an unblinking stare on a flashing sign that could be seen outside his hotel room window. Christy’s snooping could get her killed, and Alex couldn’t let that happen. The thought of losing her that way was too much for him to bear.

He looked back at Baker. “Yes, you can count on me.”

Knowing that Malcolm arrived in the office early, Christy was at her desk before dawn waiting for him. It took less than an hour to convince him that she needed more time. He gave her an additional week. She wished it could be more, but she was grateful for what she got.

By ten that morning she was packed and ready to go. She had called and spoken to her parents. Without divulging the nature of her trip, she had told them she was on her way out of town on business.

A couple of times she had been tempted to call and talk to Alex, but something had held her back. She was still upset with him. She hadn’t planned to be gone but a few days and would deal with Alex when she got back.