Chapter Seven #2
“Maybe.” Stefanie smiled, wondering if Campbell would prove to be her own knight in shining armor when all was said and done.
Bella suddenly got to her feet, wearing an apple-red halter tankini, and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a swim.”
“Me too,” Stefanie told her with a smile. Before she could lift up, wearing a green-and-white cap-sleeve one-piece swimsuit, Bella had already dived into the pool. Stefanie followed her, jumping into the water, anxious to put her swimming skills to work.
* * *
CAMPBELL AND GEORGINA arrived at the Braison Family compound, along with additional armed members of the Reston Hills Police Department and a K-9 unit that included drug detection canines, to execute a search warrant on the premises.
They were met at the gate by two men. One Campbell recognized as Juan Barrientos, Kenneth Braison’s top sidekick, having encountered resistance from Barrientos during a previous encounter at the compound.
The other man was African American, in his thirties and just as muscular, with black hair styled in cornrows and a Garibaldi beard.
Campbell walked up to the men, presented the search warrant and said, “Now, if you’ll kindly step aside and let us do our work, we can be in and out in no time flat.” Or longer, if we find reason to stick around for a while, he thought.
Barrientos gazed at the search warrant, glared at him and said to the other man resignedly, “Let them through.”
They both stepped aside as Campbell and Georgina led the way inside the compound, where everyone spread out, while looking specifically for any illegal drugs or weapons on the premises.
Of particular interest was the presence of illegally manufactured fentanyl or IMFs, or the detection of fentanyl analogs, such as carfentanil.
As well as any evidence they came upon that suggested that Mia O’Dell’s death had begun at the compound before ending in Reston Hills Park.
When Campbell approached Kenneth Braison—or actually, more the other way around—the cult leader’s forehead was creased in three places as he muttered, “You’re back again…”
“I’m sure that doesn’t come as a surprise,” Campbell shot back. “I told you we’d return with a search warrant, which Juan Barrientos got the first look at.” He handed the warrant to Kenneth. “Now it’s your turn.”
Kenneth barely glanced at it. He sneered at Campbell and said, “Go ahead, look wherever you like. We have nothing to hide. You won’t find anything, Detective,” he said confidently.
Campbell retorted, “We’ll see about that.”
“Yeah, right,” he said mockingly.
Campbell peered at him. “Mind showing me which cabin Mia O’Dell was staying in before she died?”
“I’ll be happy to take you to it,” Kenneth replied. “I instructed everyone to leave everything as it was. Wouldn’t want you to think we’d tampered with evidence or anything.”
Yeah, I bet, Campbell thought as he followed him while directing a K-9 team to join them.
When they arrived at the cabin, Campbell asked Kenneth to wait outside as the search for evidence ensued.
To Campbell, the cabin where Mia had supposedly lived alone was almost too tidy to be believed, leading him to suspect that any potential evidence may have been tampered with. They went through the motions nonetheless, hoping to get lucky.
“Find anything?” Campbell asked the K-9 handler.
Sergeant Vivienne Olmstead, fiftysomething with auburn hair in a flip bob, tightly held the leash of her German shepherd/Belgian Malinois mix canine partner, and said ruefully, “Nothing. No drugs detected whatsoever. At least not inside the cabin.”
“All right.” Campbell was wearing nitrile gloves as he did his own search through the cabin, with its wicker furniture and standard household items—coming up empty with anything that could tie solidly to the commission of a crime.
Outside, he met up with Georgina, who had the same results. “We haven’t come up with any illicit drugs or illegal firearms,” she said stiffly.
Campbell frowned. “Looks like they cleared out anything that might come back to bite them,” he reasoned, similar to his previous search for drugs and drug paraphernalia that had yielded no positive results. “We’ll have to see if we can connect any outside drug traffickers to the Braison Family.”
Georgina nodded. “As well as ask around to try and learn who Mia may have been hanging out with inside or away from the compound that may have something to say about what she was up to the day she died.”
“Yeah,” Campbell concurred, wondering to what extent, if any, the Braison Family was behind the death.
They checked out more places, spoke to a few of the followers—none of whom seemed willing to say much on or off the record—and rendezvoused with the rest of the team, before deciding there was nothing more to do there at the moment.
As they were leaving, Kenneth and his sidekick Juan walked up to them.
Kenneth regarded Campbell and said gloatingly, “I take it you found nothing of use to you, Detective, while searching for answers in Mia’s death?”
“Not yet.” Campbell jutted his chin, knowing this was precisely what the cult leader had anticipated. “Doesn’t mean we won’t stop trying.”
Kenneth responded, “As you should. Believe me, I’d like to know how Mia ended up OD’ing as much as you. The Braison Family isn’t a haven for drugs or drug use—and we wouldn’t stand for putting that poison into our bodies.”
“If you say so,” Campbell said sarcastically.
“I do.” Kenneth sighed. “It was the same when my father was at the helm of the Family and your father was trying to put the squeeze on an innocent man when another cult member fell prey to poison being put into her system. Wishing for something to be true doesn’t mean it is—”
Campbell glared at him, knowing Kenneth had managed to get under his skin by bringing his father into the current case. As well as reminding him about the failure to get the evidence needed to charge Wendell Braison with murder.
Maybe you won’t be so lucky when this is over, Campbell thought, and walked away from the cult leader and a hard-nosed Juan Barrientos.
Outside the compound, Georgina pouted and said, “Braison’s a real piece of work.”
“And probably a lot worse,” Campbell told her.
“Whether or not that rises to the level of cold-blooded killer remains to be seen.” No matter his dislike of the man, he wouldn’t jump the gun by indicting him without the hard evidence to prove his case.
Any more than my dad was willing to do when going after Kenneth’s father, even if it meant letting the case grow ice cold, Campbell told himself as they headed for his vehicle.
* * *
KENNETH WATCHED FROM behind the gate as Detectives Sawyer and Alvarez drove off, along with other law enforcement personnel.
He hated that they had invaded his territory like they owned the place.
But, as expected, they had come up empty-handed.
This didn’t mean they had gone away for good.
As long as Mia’s death remained unsolved, the cops figured to be a problem.
“What do you think?” Juan asked, ill at ease, as they walked back inside the compound.
Kenneth ran a hand across his mouth thoughtfully. “I think we need to tread carefully,” he answered. “With Mia dead and fingers pointed in our direction, we have to stand strong and not allow them to break up everything my father worked so hard to achieve.”
“That won’t happen,” Juan assured him. “They have nothing, and we have each other. The Braison Family is solid enough to push back anything the police can try to drum up against us.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Always.”
Kenneth smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good soldier for the cause, Juan.”
“I try my best,” he told him.
That would have to be enough, as far as Kenneth was concerned. As was the case for every member of the Family. It was the outside influences that most concerned him. The same ones who may have been responsible for Mia losing her way.
Assuming there wasn’t one or more traitors within their midst, deliberately breaking the rules in a misguided attempt to stop the movement. And everything that it stood for.