Chapter 8 #2
"This is Emma Blackwater. Date is March seventh.
Patient is female, twenty-two years old, presenting with multiple contusions, possible broken ribs, vaginal tearing consistent with sexual assault.
Patient states she was trafficked from Seattle six months ago.
Forced into prostitution. Attempted to escape twice.
Both times, a federal agent threatened her with deportation if she went to law enforcement. "
The recording continues. Emma asks gentle questions.
The woman's voice is barely audible, broken by crying, but she tells her story.
How she came to the US on a work visa. How the job turned out to be a lie.
How they took her passport. How the federal agent showed up after her first escape attempt and told her she'd be deported as an illegal if she talked to police.
How she believed him because he had a badge and credentials and spoke with authority.
Emma's voice stays steady throughout, professional and kind. But I can hear the controlled fury underneath. The determination to document every detail, every name, every threat.
My hands curl into fists on the table.
Cara pauses the recording. "Emma documented multiple victims over months. Every single one describes the same federal agent. Same threats. Same pattern."
She opens a photo file. The image shows a man in his fifties with graying hair, hard eyes, and FBI credentials visible on his belt. It's Lyle Haywood.
"Emma photographed him at a roadhouse outside Palmer," Cara says. "Meeting with Julian Montrose before he was killed."
I study the photo. It's clear, no question about identity. Emma built a case that any prosecutor could take to trial.
"Why didn't she tell Rhys?" Sela asks.
"Timing," I say. "Rhys and I were working a homicide at the time. Tourist hunter killed another hunter. Big case for a two-man office. Emma probably planned to tell him when things settled down."
"She never got the chance," Cara says.
"They ran her off the road," I say. My voice sounds distant. "Made it look like an accident. I found the crash site. Called Rhys. He got there in time to hear her last words. She told him it was a black truck that forced her off the road. But she died before she could tell him anything else."
"They were looking for the evidence," Sela says, speculatively.
"Yes. But Emma was smart. She'd already hidden it.
" Cara looks at her. "Your hospital locker.
She wasn't keeping it at home where it might be found.
She was safeguarding it until she was ready to report.
" She looks back at me. "Emma did everything right, gathered proof, protected it. And they killed her anyway."
She followed every procedure, trusted the system. And the system fed her to the wolves.
Finn breaks the silence. "So what's our move?"
"We need corroborating testimony," I say.
"Audio recordings are good, but defense attorneys will tear them apart.
Emma was a civilian. She had no authority to make the recordings and there are no affidavits as to their veracity.
We need live witnesses willing to testify that Haywood threatened them.
That he facilitated trafficking operations. "
"How many of Emma's victims are still alive?" Sela asks.
Cara pulls up a spreadsheet. "Based on what I can find, some of them are alive and locatable. A few are in Alaska. Others might be harder to find. We can start looking in the Pacific Northwest, but they could be anywhere by now."
"Will they talk?" Finn asks.
Cara shakes her head. "These women were threatened by an FBI agent. They've been through hell. Asking them to testify against him means asking them to relive trauma and put themselves at risk."
"We need someone they'll trust," I say. "Someone who understands what they've been through. Someone who can approach it the right way."
Silence fills the cabin. Everyone knows what I'm saying but nobody wants to voice it. Approaching trafficking victims requires finesse. Trust. The kind of rapport you can't build with a badge and official questions.
Sela sets down her mug. "I could do it."
I look at her. "What?"
"I'm a nurse. Same as Emma. I can reach out as a follow-up on their care. Check on how they're doing. Build rapport. If they're willing to talk, I can explain what we're trying to do."
Every instinct I have screams no. She's already a target. Already has contractors trying to kill her. Putting her in contact with victims means exposing her even more.
"No," I say immediately.
"Why not?"
"Because it puts you at risk. Haywood's already trying to kill you. You think he won't notice if you start contacting his victims?"
"He won't know it's me. I'll use my credentials from Palmer Regional. Approach it as routine follow-up. These women trusted Emma. They might trust another nurse."
Cara nods slowly. "It could work. If Sela's careful about how she makes contact. Uses encrypted communication. Meets in public places."
"It's too dangerous," I say.
"Everything about this is dangerous," Sela counters. "But if we don't get testimony from these women, Haywood walks. And Emma died for nothing."
"Emma died trying to do the right thing," I say. My voice comes out harder than I intend. "I'm not letting you—"
"It's not your decision to let me do anything." Her voice stays level but I hear steel underneath. "I found Emma's evidence. I'm involved whether you like it or not. And I'm a hell of a lot more useful getting testimony than sitting around waiting for Haywood's contractors to find us again."
She's right and I hate it. Hate that the smart tactical move is putting her in more danger. Hate that I can't keep her safe and still do what needs to be done.
Finn looks between us. "She's got a point, Marc."
"She's a civilian."
"So are the women we're trying to protect," Cara says. "They need someone who understands their situation. Someone who isn't law enforcement. Sela's right. As a nurse, she can build rapport in ways we can't."
My gut still says it's too dangerous. My training says don't put civilians in operational roles. But the playbook didn't work for Emma. Didn't work for Lisa Reynolds. Hasn't stopped Haywood from running trafficking operations for years.
I look at Sela. She meets my eyes without flinching. Waiting for my answer but not backing down. She's made her decision and nothing I say will change it. I can either work with her on this or watch her do it anyway without proper support.
At least if I'm involved, I can set up protocols. Ensure she has backup. Minimize the risk even if I can't eliminate it.
"If you do this," I say to her, "we do it my way. Secure protocols. Backup at every meeting. You don't take any risks I haven't cleared first."
"Agreed," she says.
Relief flashes across her face. She was ready to fight harder if she had to, but she's smart enough to accept the compromise.
Finn refills our mugs. "So we're doing this. Building a case against a federal agent with survivor testimony and Emma's evidence."
"Yes," Cara says.
"And when we have enough, we take it to who exactly?" Finn asks. "The FBI's compromised. We can't trust anyone in the bureau until we know who else Haywood owns."
"Department of Justice," I say. "Public corruption unit. Bypass the FBI entirely. I've got some old contacts there from my CID days."
"Will they listen?" Sela asks.
"If the evidence is solid enough, they have to." I look at Cara. "Can you put together a complete package? Everything Emma documented plus any new testimony we get?"
"Already working on it."
"Good." I stand. The weight of what we're about to do settles over me.
Going after a federal agent with resources and connections.
Putting Sela in contact with victims who might panic and run.
Building a case that has to be airtight because we'll only get one shot at this.
"Rhys and Harlow will be here soon. We'll need their help coordinating.
And we need to move fast. Every day we wait, Haywood consolidates his position.
Finds more contractors. Covers more tracks. "
Sela stands too. "So who do we start with?"