Visible Threat (10 page)

25

B
RINNA OPENED THE DOOR
to a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

“Brinna Caruso?” the delivery woman asked.

“That’s me,” Brinna answered, surprised almost to the point of speechlessness. She was conscious of her mother’s presence behind her.

“Oh, Brin, they’re beautiful. Who are they from?” Rose inquired.

“There’s a card, if you’ll just sign here.” The woman pushed a clipboard at Brinna.

Brinna handed the flowers to her mother so she could sign for the bouquet.

“Enjoy,” the delivery woman said as she left.

Back inside the house, Rose placed the arrangement on the dining room table, plucked out the card, and handed it to Brinna.

“You haven’t mentioned anyone in your life lately,” she said, managing to sound hurt.

“That’s because there isn’t anyone. I have no clue who these are from.” She studied the envelope and frowned.

“Only way to find out is to open the card,” her mother said impatiently.

Rolling her eyes, Brinna did just that.

“Dave the paramedic?” Her mother regarded her with raised eyebrows.

“Yeah, he took me to the hospital yesterday. I’ve met him a couple of times. He’s a nice enough guy, but we’ve never gone out or anything.”

“From the look of this bouquet, he’d like to change that.”

“Oh, don’t jump to conclusions. He’s probably just being nice.” Brinna waved her cast toward her mother with a nonchalance she wasn’t sure she felt. Dave was cute, no denying that, but when it came to flowers, she found herself a bit disappointed that they weren’t from Jack.

“Harrumph” was Rose’s response.

Brinna glared at her mother only to have any reply interrupted by a second assault on the doorbell.

“What now?” She set the card on the table and answered the door. Jack and Ben stood on her porch.

“We were in the neighborhood, visiting all the sick, lame, and lazy cops in the area,” Jack teased with a grin.

“Ha-ha. The fat, dumb, and happy detectives visiting the
sick, lame, and lazy? Sounds like the start of a fairy tale to me. Especially since your shift is over.” She stepped aside and invited them in.

“You know the saying
 
—no rest for the weary.” Jack chuckled.

“Didn’t know you had company.” Ben nodded to Rose. “Hello, Mrs. Caruso. We can come back if this is a bad time.”

Brinna made a face and waved her hand. “It’s my mom, not company. You guys want coffee?”

“Coffee is always welcome, and today I feel as though I’ve had five gallons,” Jack said. “Nice to see you, Mrs. Caruso.”

“It’s good to see you both, and please, it’s Rose. Stop making me feel like the middle-aged matron I am,” Rose said. “I’ll get the coffee. You guys have a seat.” She cast a glance at Brinna. “Since my daughter never gives me much insight into her life, I think I’ll enjoy hanging around and eavesdropping for a bit.”

As her mother headed for the kitchen, Brinna shrugged. “I don’t mind if you hang out, Mom. You always find ways to get insight into my life anyway. At least today it will be firsthand and not what you manage to wring out of Maggie.” She motioned for Hero to get off the couch, and Ben and Jack sat down.

“I’m guessing your visit has to do with Ivana,” Brinna observed as she relaxed in the recliner.

“Good guess,” Jack said, accepting a cup of coffee from Rose. Rose then pulled a chair from the dining room and joined them.

“Ivana is the girl Brinna pulled from the flood control?” Rose asked.

Jack nodded and looked to Brinna.

“You can fill her in,” Brinna said.

Jack gave Rose the Reader’s Digest version of everything they knew about Ivana so far. Brinna noted that even though he was gentle, Rose was understandably horrified.

“We figure the odds are good that Alice is Ivana’s missing sister.” Jack turned to Brinna when he finished updating Rose.

Brinna sucked in a breath, hoping they wouldn’t ask her to break the news. “I considered that connection as well. Too close a description.”

“We didn’t want to hit her with it while she was in the hospital, but once she’s out, we’ll put together some pictures and hopefully get a positive ID,” Jack continued.

“How much more horrible can this get for that poor girl?” Rose interjected. “Just when I think I can’t be disgusted any more by the evil in this world, I am.”

Jack gave Rose a look that said he understood and agreed. “I don’t want to inflict any more indignity on her by putting together a weak case.”

“Amen,” Ben agreed.

“Right now Ivana is our only witness to the traffickers and, if Alice turns out to be her sister, our only connection to Alice and perhaps to a murderer. We’d like to keep her accessible,” Jack explained.

“ICE wants her in a women’s shelter since their addresses are closely guarded,” Ben continued. “You know how that works. Keeping her whereabouts secret is important for her safety, but we might have a difficult time getting to her when we need her.”

“I can see that,” Brinna agreed. “But what does this have to do with me?”

“How’d you like a temporary roommate?” Jack asked.

Brinna’s eyebrows arched, and she searched the two detectives’ faces for signs they were pulling her leg. She saw none.

“Me?” She pointed back to herself with her thumb. “You want me to let her stay here?” The suggestion caught her by surprise. She’d felt a connection to Ivana and would do everything in her power to catch the bad guy, but she was totally out of her element with the thought of having to nurture the girl.

“ICE is overworked and stretched thin. I have to believe that they would be okay with having her stay here. Chuck is checking for us. Strictly speaking, your house is a nongovernmental entity. And you’re off work for a bit, so this would be a perfect place to stash her.” Jack looked around the living room.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure I like the idea of being a Holiday Inn. I
 
—”

Rose cleared her throat, and the trio looked her way. “I have a nice spare guest room. There’s nothing I’d rather do with my home and free time than make a poor, abused girl welcome and comfortable.” Rose smiled, her tone pleasant, nothing in what she said meant as a chastisement for Brinna.

“You?” Brinna leaned forward and stared at her mom. She knew her mother liked to have people stay in her guest room, but this girl was the victim of a serious and brutal crime.

“Of course. I’m very nongovernmental. Since your father died, I’ve had several houseguests the church has sent over. I
house missionaries home on furlough, so I’m used to taking care of strangers. I’d be more than happy to offer safe haven to this young woman.”

Brinna sat back and watched as Jack and Ben exchanged glances. She could tell they were considering the idea as a positive solution. She almost objected and then wondered why the proposal bothered her. Ivana did need to be accessible and safe. And she would be more comfortable in her mother’s guest room than on a couch in Brinna’s living room.

“Thanks, Rose,” Ben said. “That’s something we hadn’t considered. We’d need to run it by Chuck. We could put a decoy up in a shelter and then send Ivana to you through the back door.”

“Actually,” Brinna cut in, “it’s a great idea. Tracy Michaels has my address, and everyone knows that once a reporter knows something, there’s a good chance other people do too. My mom’s place will work much better.”

“Of course it will work.” Rose preened and Brinna stifled a chuckle. Rose would be in her element fussing over a guest in her home. “And I’ll get everything ready as soon as I get home tonight.”

“Mom, make sure you consider that this could be a long commitment,” Brinna said, “and we really know nothing about this girl. Be comfortable with every aspect before going forward with this.”

“The only thing that’s important to me is the one concerning Ivana’s well-being. I very much want to help.” Rose held Brinna’s gaze, and Brinna saw peace and resolve reflected there. Oddly, that one look gave Brinna peace as
well. Suddenly she knew. The best place for Ivana would be with Rose Caruso.

She smiled and nodded at her mother.

“By the way, we got a lead on that blanket you found.” Jack’s voice took her thoughts away from Mom, and she gave him her full attention. “There’s a possible vendor down in Shoreline Village.”

“Shoreline Village?”

“A place called Black Sea Folk Art and Collectibles. Ever heard of it?”

Brinna shook her head, but her mother spoke up. “I have. I’ve been there several times,” Rose said, frowning. “It has a lot of interesting knickknacks. You don’t think they’re involved in this horrible trafficking mess, do you?”

“We’re not sure. We stopped by on the way over here, but the owner wasn’t there. We left a card and hope she’ll contact us tomorrow.”

“Even if the killer bought it at this shop, it doesn’t necessarily mean the shop is involved,” Brinna told her mother.

“I certainly hope not.” Rose rubbed her hands together. “I’ve met the owner. She’s a lovely woman. I couldn’t imagine her being involved in anything this distasteful.”

“Sometimes appearances are deceiving.” Jack shrugged. “I never take preconceived notions with me into an interview. We’ll see what she has to tell us. Hopefully it will be a useful lead that points us to the killer.”

26

M
AGDA’S EYES BURNED
from reading the computer screen. She rubbed her temples, trying unsuccessfully to erase the headache pounding there. She’d perused every government website she could find, wanting to ascertain what the lost girl’s status would be. While she had absolutely no intention of helping Simon retrieve the girl, she needed to know if there was any way she could use the girl’s status to her advantage.

She’d already made one call, an anonymous tip to the embassy, and fear crawled through her belly because of that. Paranoia from the time Communism permeated her country lurked in Magda’s consciousness. She remembered as a girl listening to her father talk about how there were no secrets from the government. Their eyes and ears were everywhere, especially where you least expected it, he’d said. Magda had never seen the American government as threatening. But if they somehow discovered she was the one who’d called and then Demitri found out . . . She shivered at the thought.

She’d learned what the authorities called the crimes Demitri committed:
human trafficking
. She was familiar with the concept. Anton had a cousin who’d been lured from her small, squalid village to the brothels of France two years ago. He’d spent months trying to help the girl’s family find her and bring her home.

The French authorities were no help. They seemed to turn a blind eye to information that the trafficking of human beings might be occurring in their country. Even so, they did locate the girl for the family but took her word that she had come to the country willingly, never considering that perhaps she’d been coerced. Finally Anton began spreading money around and smoked out someone who was able to help. He ended up buying the girl’s freedom and sending her home, but she was never the same. She died of a drug overdose within months of arriving back in her native country.

More guilt infused Magda. She’d tried to ignore the broader implications of her involvement with Demitri, but it was all punching her in the face at the moment. She feared the strain would tear her apart before anything could be resolved.

27

F
IRST THING
T
UESDAY MORNING
Brinna reported to occupational health. The note they gave her said she’d be off work for at least three weeks. After that time she would be reevaluated and perhaps given a modified duty position until the doctors released her for full duty. She tried not to think about Rick, still stuck in the hospital, as she considered her forced hiatus.

What it meant to Brinna was that she had even less time to work with Hero, if, in fact, she did lose the grant. Stepping into the sunshine in front of the OH office, she took a deep breath and forced herself to look at the glass as half-full. The grant funding could stay in place. She punched in Sergeant Rodriguez’s number as she walked to her car.

“Brinna, good to hear from you. How’s the arm?”

“I’m off duty for three weeks, per occupational health.”

“Sorry to hear it, but do try to rest. Don’t go off on any searches; you might hurt yourself worse since you’re not 100 percent.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing any searches, but I was wondering if you’d heard any more about Hero’s grant money.”

“Not a word, sorry.”

Brinna thanked her and hung up, disappointed on one hand, but energized by the fact that now she’d have extra time to help Jack and Ben, even if her help was unofficial. She climbed into her car for the ten-minute drive to the station.

The occupational health paperwork needed to go to personnel. Once that task was done, Brinna wished she could turn around and go home. But even before hearing from OH that morning, she’d gotten a call from internal affairs. It was time to face the music for ignoring Lieutenant Harvey’s order when she chased Corliss. After leaving the paperwork at personnel, she would meet a union rep at IA, where she’d hear the entire complaint against her and be interviewed about the incident.

I’ll just tell them the truth,
Brinna thought.
I’m not ashamed of the outcome, and if there are consequences for my actions, so be it.

*   *   *

Magda nearly fainted when she saw the note left for her at the cash register. She’d arrived to work late after being up most of the night and had had to call a clerk in to open for her. The business card with the Long Beach Police Department logo might as well have been a dagger in her chest.

They know,
her mind screamed as she sank into her desk chair, heart pounding. She clutched her chest and tried to calm down so she could think.

How could they know?
she asked herself finally and
concluded that, in spite of her fright, they couldn’t. The card must just be some horrible coincidence. The note her clerk had left said only that the detectives dropped by to ask her some questions. They wanted her to call and let them know when the most convenient time for them to contact her was.

Convenient time to talk to the police?
Magda blew out a breath and grabbed a Kleenex to dab the perspiration from her forehead. It was not warm in the shop; she’d yet to turn on the heater. But the fright she’d experienced had caused her to break out in a cold sweat.

As her heart rate slowed and her thoughts cleared, Magda decided that this card, this request from the police, might work in her favor. Her mood brightened considerably as she thought that maybe she could use this police contact to her advantage. She just had to think carefully about what she would reveal when she called them back and most of all when they came to ask her their questions.

Conversely, it might not have anything to do with the poor girl who ran from Simon. It might be totally unrelated.
Then again, I was the one who placed the call to the Bulgarian embassy,
she thought.
What if they’ve discovered that?

No, they couldn’t have, she decided. She’d used a pay phone
 
—the only one she knew of
 
—and she’d had to drive to San Pedro, where she paid cash. They couldn’t know it had been her.

Magda stood and straightened her skirt.
No matter. Whatever comes, I will find a way to work this to favor me. I knew when I called the embassy that there was no turning back. Now I will ride the wave my action has created.