Chapter 18
“Okay, here’s where things stand as of today.”
The conference room was silent, eyes trained on Mateo as he paced to the wall holding every scrap of evidence they had gathered.
Williams and Smith had organized it all, and used lengths of red twine to make connections.
There were some gaps, but the wall now looked more like a meticulously drawn map than a scattering of disjointed puzzle pieces.
“Interviews with the victims from the NOLA house confirm that these women were brought in from out of state. Six of them came from cities where the UNSUB has killed. The drives Darcy copied revealed connections between Valemont Holdings and several shipping companies and warehouses in those states. There are shipping schedules, manifests, locations and dates. It’s enough for a nationwide sting.
Carlisle is currently working with the DOJ to clear the red tape.
The effort will be coordinated, all the stings going down at the same time.
At best, we’re looking at seventy-two hours, at worst, a week. ”
“So that settles it, then,” Williams offered between sips of coffee. “Roman Korenic is the UNSUB. He fits the profile and has the money and power needed to move the way the UNSUB does.”
Mateo hesitated before giving voice to his doubts.
He had to acknowledge that Williams had a keen instinct for these things.
The evidence wasn’t entirely conclusive, but it was enough to show that Korenic was the man they were looking for.
At the same time, Mateo couldn’t ignore the voice in the back of his mind whispering that it couldn’t be this simple.
“Possibly,” he hedged. “For the moment, we can only tie him to Valemont and Gulf Atlantic Freight. That, plus the testimony of Tariq Hayes, is enough for us to put Korenic under surveillance. I’ll take that on myself once the court order goes through.
We’ve also got the tactical surveillance team installing more wiretaps in the back rooms at Solstice.
I have some intel indicating that meetings happen there.
Once Korenic comes back to town, I’m sure he’ll head straight to the club to meet with his underlings.
He will want to know how the NOLA house and Berenger Warehouse were compromised.
He’ll be scrambling to cover his ass. As far as the rest of the profile goes, we need to dig deeper into Roman’s background to see if anything aligns with what we already know about the UNSUB.
It isn’t enough for him to be rich and well-connected.
Aveline Marchand told us that The Veil is made up primarily of elites.
That means we’re looking for a rich guy in a haystack of other rich guys.
We can’t just assume the first one we identify is our guy. ”
“What about tattoo guy?” Jones spoke up. “The one from the club.”
Mateo glanced at Smith. “Smitty?”
Smith stood and cleared his throat, approaching the wall and indicating the area where his photo surveillance of ‘tattoo guy’ had been pinned.
“I managed to follow Tattoo Guy around for a few days. Didn’t see anything immediately suspicious.
The guy’s a loser—spends his days drinking and getting high, his nights at Solstice. Except for Saturday night.”
“What happened on Saturday?” Donovan asked.
Smith pointed to a grainy image of an old, abandoned mansion. The aerial view showed the entire structure and its grounds, darkened and isolated.
“He went here and met up with a bunch of other shady characters,” Smith said. “I couldn’t get close enough to see inside without giving myself away, but I managed to snap a few shots.”
The others left their seats, coming closer to the evidence map. They stood shoulder to shoulder, studying the images Smith had managed to capture—people coming and going from the mansion shrouded in black, mostly men.
“Security is tight,” Smith went on. “Seems like only certain people are allowed in. They stayed all night.”
“Darcy, what have you found?” Mateo asked.
“Satellite imaging indicates that Saturday night events are a norm at the mansion,” Darcy replied. “Every week, there’s a spike in electricity use, and a stream of cars coming and going. Deliveries are made on Mondays before dawn. The rest of the time, the place is a shell.”
“Could be a meeting place for The Veil,” Williams offered. “If Tattoo Guy is going there, what else could it be?”
“Yes,” Mateo agreed. “That’s a strong possibility, but we need more information. Darcy, what did you find out about the owner of the building? Is it Valemont?”
Darcy shook her head and wrinkled her brow. “That’s the crazy part. The owner is listed as another shell company called Vestra. The owner is listed as a G. Vale.”
“Probably another alias for Roman,” Mateo mumbled. “Find me something I can use to press for surveillance on the mansion. We need to get inside.”
“Done and done,” she replied, already on her way to her office.
Mateo turned to Williams. “I’m putting you in charge of handling the logistics of the raids.
You’ll be the point of contact for Carlisle.
Keep me informed of every detail. When you aren’t doing that, there’s still footage from those security cameras around Solstice.
Go back over them. We might have missed something. ”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Smith, stay on Tattoo Guy and try to get some photos of his face so Darcy can do what she does. I want to know who he is and what his connection might be to Valemont and The Veil.”
“Got it, Boss.”
“Jones, keep your ear to the Solstice wiretap. I know things have been quiet since the NOLA and Berenger raids, but we should start getting movement soon.”
“Yes, Sir.”
As everyone else melted away, Donovan stood facing him. His gaze was sharp, intent, focused straight on Mateo. When he didn’t speak, Mateo raised his eyebrows in question.
Donovan cleared his throat. “Are you good?”
Mateo rubbed a hand over his bristled jaw. The stubble was starting to itch. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Donovan sighed. “Okay, let’s cut the bullshit. I followed you last night.”
Mateo’s blood ran cold. He had been so preoccupied with Melody that he’d been unaware of all else. So preoccupied that he hadn’t felt the eyes watching him.
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
“Because you’ve been walking around like a zombie for the past week,” Donovan argued. “And because you wouldn’t answer your phone, and Darcy and I were afraid you might be in a gutter somewhere with your throat slit. The UNSUB already got to you once.”
Mateo cursed under his breath, annoyed with himself. Of course his disappearance and silence had worried his team.
“I was exhausted,” he said with a shrug. “I slept through your calls. It won’t happen again.”
“And your little trip to Solstice?” Donovan challenged. “You seemed awake enough for that.”
Mateo gritted his teeth. “If you have something to ask me, then ask.”
Donovan shifted closer and lowered his voice, eyes darting to make sure they weren’t overheard. “You went to see her. Melody.”
Mateo raised his chin a notch. “And if I did?”
“You have surprisingly little intel to share about whatever it is you found. In fact, her name hasn’t come up once in any of your briefings, even though you’ve spent as much time monitoring her as we have Suede, Wilson, and Morrison. Even though I know you had Darcy run a full background check.”
Mateo clenched his hands into fists, and an overwhelming surge of protective annoyance welled within him. Who the fuck did Donovan think he was, questioning him?
“If I find anything worth sharing, I’ll share it,” Mateo ground out, his jaw beginning to ache from how tight he clenched his teeth. “So far, all I know is that her identity is fake, and she works at the club.”
A bald-faced lie. He knew far more about Melody than he was willing to admit.
He knew her art and her taste in music. He knew her clothes, her love and care for plants, and her perfumes.
He knew her feel and her taste and her scent.
More than that, he knew where she had come from, where she had been born, who had raised her.
He knew what she had lived through, what she had survived. He knew it all.
“Oh, so that’s it?” Donovan prodded, either unaware of how he irritated Mateo, or not caring. “Your interest in this woman is all related to the case? Nothing else?”
“That’s not your concern.”
“Like hell it isn’t.”
Mateo backed away before he was tempted to put his hands on Donovan.
The young agent was only doing his job, which didn’t only require him to follow orders.
He wasn’t technically a member of the team, and had his own pull with the bureau.
If he thought Mateo was slipping, he could have him under investigation with a phone call.
“She’s a suspect, nothing more. When I have more to tell you, I will. In the meantime, I need you to interview Wilson and Morrison again. They haven’t said a word other than to turn on each other. We need to know what ties they might have to The Veil.”
Donovan stared at him in silence for a long moment. His eyes were unwavering, gleaming silver in the fluorescent overhead lights. Despite his youth, there was a good amount of wisdom in those eyes. There was the kind of intuitiveness that made a person a good agent. No, a great one.
“I’m on it,” he replied. “But this thing with Melody … if I feel like it’s gone too far, I will put in a call to Carlisle. We just barely escaped discipline for your little surveillance mission. We can’t afford to bring the paper pushers down on our heads.”
Mateo closed his eyes and sighed, still battling irritation. The room was closing in around him, pressing him in on all sides. The smells of coffee and ink and paper overwhelmed his senses, and the air in the room had grown stagnant and stale.