Chapter Four
The following morning, Landon stood in a conference room at the Bureau’s field office on Caughman Farm Lane.
He was holding an Art Crime Team briefing on the situation pertaining to Eddie and the investigation underway.
Sitting in brown PU leather chairs around a black rectangle table were Katie Kitagawa and Special Agent in Charge Shannon Whitfield.
Forty-five, long-legged and shapely, with blue eyes and a sandy-colored jellyfish blunt haircut, she was on her second round of running the FBI Columbian field office after being transferred back there seven months ago from the FBI field office in Albuquerque, New Mexico.
Standing was Special Agent Zach Fajardo, who worked within the Transnational Organized Crime division.
Hispanic, short, and solidly built, and on his second marriage, he was pushing forty but looked younger, with black hair in a fade crew cut, brown eyes, and a chevron mustache.
His focus was primarily on the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, or RICO provisions, criminally and civilly, of the laws pertaining to TOC groups and individuals.
Shannon clasped her hands and asked, “And you think this is related to your investigation?”
“I’m pretty sure it is,” he answered matter-of-factly.
“Prior to the bombing, Eddie left me a voicemail, indicating that he was certain they were onto him as my CI and believed that he was in trouble on the boat. By the time I got there, it was on fire—what was left of it—and Eddie was nowhere to be found.” Landon took a breath.
“His personal and burner cell phones have gone dead,” he added, definitely no pun intended, even if the eerie parallels to Eddie’s absence went without saying.
Katie leaned forward and asked, “What about the person spotted fleeing the scene, seemingly in a hurry?”
“Definitely a person of interest,” Landon told her candidly and put an image on the monitor.
“A surveillance camera picked up the unsub near the marina store. Can’t get a good read on him, with a hood over the head and half facing away from the camera—we’re trying to line this up with other video footage—but we believe the suspect is a tall white male with black or brown hair, probably in his thirties or forties.
And he may be driving a white Hyundai Santa Fe SUV or a silver Honda Accord.
A BOLO has been issued for both vehicles. ”
“Any word on Jernigan’s vehicle?” Shannon asked interestedly.
“Yeah.” Landon’s inflection dropped an octave as he switched images on the monitor.
“Eddie’s white Audi Q4 Sportback e-tron was picked up by a Flock camera an hour after the explosion as it crossed Eighth Street and Ropper Road.
The license plate reader couldn’t make out the driver, which may or may not have been Jernigan.
The car was found abandoned near a farmhouse three miles away.
Witnesses reported an adult man wearing a hoodie running away from the scene, but no positive identification has been made. ”
“So, if Jernigan was the driver,” Zach put forth, “then he may have hitched a ride with someone else. Or stolen another car to get away.”
He shook his head to both suggestions. “There are no reports of any stolen vehicles in the area,” he pointed out, while keeping an open mind that the unidentified driver could have been Raquelle’s brother.
“Eddie’s vehicle is being examined for DNA and dusted for prints.
As far as hitching a ride, I doubt that he was making a concerted effort to drag someone else into this.
” Definitely not Raquelle, Landon told himself, as Eddie had apparently made no attempt to contact her since he went missing.
It was as though he was unable to—more than unwilling to—which concerned Landon in and of itself.
“I also can’t rule out that Eddie could have been kidnapped and is being held against his will in either seeking to gain intel from him or as a bargaining chip down the line… ”
Shannon asked, “So, where do things stand in the investigation, with the CI strangely absent from the picture—dead or alive, abducted or not—as it relates to the case?”
Landon had anticipated the question and contemplated a response.
“The case is still continuing and moving in the right direction,” he said levelly.
“Eddie was supplying useful intel in building a solid case against forty-seven-year-old art dealer Ivan Pimentel.” Landon put the image of the suspect on the screen.
He had an oval face, blue eyes, and bleached hair in a long quiff and a Van Dyke beard.
“Pimentel has a number of art galleries throughout South Carolina, including several in and around Columbia, one in Charleston, another in Summerville. He also owns a gallery in Miami, Florida, and another in London, England. We believe that Pimentel is using the art galleries to buy and sell both stolen and forged works of Native American art and laundering the significant proceeds from it, while defrauding some unsuspected buyers and working hand in hand with others knowingly. His criminal enterprise has international ties in conspiring with others to commit art and cultural property crimes.”
Zach jutted his chin and said in an almost giddy yet serious tone of voice, “If played right, the RICO charges—such as conspiracy to commit art theft or steal and dispose of pieces of cultural heritage, forgery, money laundering, bank, mail and wire fraud, aggravated identity theft, and interstate or international transportation of stolen property—will blow this illegal operation wide open.”
“It could at that,” Landon acknowledged.
“We get it.” Katie laughed. “Calm down, Fajardo. It’s still a work in progress.”
“I’m just saying,” he voiced with a chuckle.
Shannon pursed her lips while peering at Landon. “Do you have enough to make arrests that can stick—with or without Jernigan’s cooperation?” the special agent in charge asked pointedly.
“Yes and no.” He hoped to buy more time.
“We can certainly make a strong case against Pimentel and his associates as is. But I’d still like to dig in a little deeper to truly tighten the screws on his criminal network.
Moreover, if Pimentel was involved in Eddie’s disappearance and bombing of his boat, along with burglarizing his apartment—which I believe is a strong possibility—then we’d have even more serious offenses we can hang on him. ”
“Makes sense.” Shannon ran a hand through her hair. “But not enough to drag this thing out for who knows how long. Especially if your CHS isn’t available to provide useful intel.”
“About that…” Landon pressed a hand flat on the conference table.
“Actually, I was thinking of going undercover myself as an art collector to try and get more incriminating evidence of stolen or phony works of art from Pimentel.” It sounds like a good idea anyway, while also getting a read on the circumstances surrounding Eddie’s disappearance, he told himself, watching everyone’s surprised reaction. Especially Shannon’s look of shock.
The special agent in charge furrowed her brow.
“Not sure that works for me,” she said boldly.
“It was one thing to convince Eddie Jernigan to be an inside source of info, but given your personal connection to him, throwing caution to the wind by going in and assuming he hasn’t already spilled his guts to the other side doesn’t make sense.
And it could jeopardize the investigation. ”
Though he fully understood her point of view and didn’t necessarily disagree, Landon pushed back nevertheless.
“I wouldn’t exactly be throwing caution to the wind,” he insisted.
“I would take precautions and focus on identifying some specific Native American art that was stolen or faked—to label as evidence of criminality.”
Shannon wasn’t buying it as she responded steadfastly, “I’d rather keep you on the outside in this instance.
” She eyed Katie and Zach. “On the other hand, if you’d still like to dig a bit more surreptitiously, I say we have Special Agents Kitagawa and Fajardo go undercover, posing as a couple who’s interested in Native American art as part of their broader art collection. ”
Just as Zach started to protest, Katie said swiftly, “I’m game. As an Indigenous Hawaiian, and just as keen on preserving our culture through art, artifacts, and other means as Native Americans are, I can definitely pull this off on my end.”
With all eyes now on Zach, he relented, acquiescing, “If Katie is willing to jump into the ring on this, count me in.”
Shannon smiled softly. “Then it’s settled.”
This should be interesting, Landon thought with amusement, knowing that both Katie and Zach were in serious relationships in their real lives. I only wish I could say the same, he told himself, but he said out loud, “We’ll make it work.”
“If you say so,” Katie quipped, adding, “Whatever it takes to reach the ultimate goal of taking down Ivan Pimentel and his associates.”
Zach said, “Agreed.”
“To that point,” Shannon voiced as she stood up in her dark-colored windowpane pantsuit and peered at Landon, “Agent Briscoe, you need to find out, one way or another, if Eddie Jernigan is still a CHS. If not—because he’s deceased, held in captivity, or freely chosen to go underground—we have to know if he left behind valuable intel that can move this investigation along. ”
Landon nodded respectfully. “I understand.” The show had to go on, whether Raquelle’s brother was still among the living or not.
I owe it to her to see to it that Eddie did not die in vain, if that’s the outcome, he thought.
And if his previous brother-in-law was in possession of more damaging evidence that could be used against Pimentel and was still accessible to the Art Crime Team, he needed that information.