Chapter 29 #2
“Yeah, what’s this got to do with anything?” Weeks demanded.
Ryan and the detective shared a look. She pulled out a file and spread a series of papers across the table, the writing too small for Lovell to read.
“Ron Beeker’s sister is married to Keshaun Low, the driver for Sweet Dreams clients and now known as Ken Low,” she started.
“You and Ron go way back to the days of running the streets as kids in Atlanta. You grew up, parted ways, but stayed in touch. When Beeker, who’s been working for Sweet Dreams for five years, needed help in Atlanta, you stepped in to do the job.
And don’t bother denying you know Beeker, that’s a fact we’ve already established, along with the fact that the gun we confiscated from you was the same one used to kill him. ”
Weeks’s lips thinned as the detective paused, giving him a chance to react. When both he and the lawyer remained silent, Ryan picked up the narrative.
“The help Beeker needed in Atlanta was running people up to New Jersey. Kids, young adults, people who wouldn’t be missed but could be groomed to meet the needs of Sweet Dreams’ clientele.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Weeks said. The lawyer’s eyes sharpened, but he remained silent.
“Human trafficking for the purpose of supplying sex to paying customers,” the detective said.
“Is this a new charge?” the lawyer asked.
Ryan nodded. “The paperwork is in your inbox. Filed twenty minutes ago.”
“Hardly sporting, Chief Warwick,” he replied.
Ryan inclined his head. “And we apologize about that. But the information came in this morning, and we wanted to ensure it was taken into account when he has his bond hearing tomorrow. Everything we talk about today will be in the file provided to your office.”
An annoyed look flashed across the lawyer’s face, but it was also the face of a man who’d been doing his job long enough to know what fights to fight.
“Proceed,” he said.
“As we said, charges have been added to Weeks’s arrest warrant. One of those is human trafficking with the intent to use for sexual crimes,” Ryan said.
Weeks’s eyes darted between the two law enforcement officers. “You’re crazy.”
Ryan cocked his head. “I don’t think we are.” He set several more photos down on the table.
“HICC has been busy,” Daphne muttered. The pictures showed Weeks and Beeker at various locations, but the most damning included the two of them and a van full of young people, some bound, most looking drugged.
“Here’s what I think,” the detective continued.
“Beeker pulled you into this human trafficking ring a couple of years ago. It’s occasional work but pays well.
Then when his bosses needed James Church dead, they turned to someone they trusted, Beeker, who brought you in again.
The timing couldn’t have been better because you have gambling debts with a few very unforgiving people. ”
The lawyer closed his eyes for a moment, but didn’t stop the process.
“You don’t know shit,” Weeks said.
“You owe Freddy Montagne $153,000, Mr. Weeks,” the detective said. “The horses haven’t been kind to you.”
Weeks opened his mouth. His lawyer shook his head. Weeks looked as if he’d override his counsel, but then snapped his lips shut.
“The payout you’d get for the hit would go a long way to clearing your debt, so you accepted the job,” she continued. “Two weeks ago, you and Beeker traveled cross-country, landed in Reno, stole a truck, drove to Mystery Lake, and stalked Church.”
“With the help of intel from Terry Palance, who managed to track his phone,” Ryan added. At the mention of that name, Weeks paled.
“I think he just realized they aren’t winging it here,” Daphne said, her voice laced with humor and admiration.
“You took a shot, missed, then kidnapped Ms. Parks in the hopes of using her as leverage to finish the job you’d fucked up once already,” Ryan continued.
“Then when that went sideways, Beeker started getting cold feet. He couldn’t afford to get caught because he’s the sole support for his ailing mother.
But you needed the money to buy time with Montagne.
You solved the argument by taking Beeker out of the picture, then continued with the original plan to kill James Church. ”
Daphne hit the button to unmute the call. “How the hell did you dig up all this information overnight?”
Callie and Ava laughed. “We’re that good,” Ava said, Callie agreeing with a “Hear hear.”
“This is better than my books,” Daphne added.
“Not quite,” Ava said, “but glad you’re impressed. Fiction is much sexier than real life.”
“That’s why it’s entertainment,” Daphne replied. “Seriously, though, I don’t need all the details of the crimes, but when we’re back, when this is all wrapped up, I want to know how you acquired the knowledge. That’s the interesting part to me.”
“Cook us a meal and you’re on,” Callie said. “At least to the extent we can talk about it.”
“Deal,” Daphne said as Weeks’s voice cut across the line.
“I want a deal. Can I get a deal?” he asked, his eyes darting between his lawyer and Ryan.
The lawyer visibly sighed, then looked to Ryan, too.
“You know the drill, counselor. Come with a proposal and we’ll discuss it with the DA,” Ryan said.
In turn, the lawyer nodded. “Could you give us the room, please?”
Ryan went through the motions of officially ending the interview, then he and his colleague departed.
“Now what?” Lovell asked, as Ava and Callie filled the screen.
“Now we wait to see the proposal the lawyer will put forward,” Callie said.
“I wasn’t much help,” he said.
“We weren’t sure how the interview would go, which is why we wanted you there,” Callie replied. “Don’t think of it as a waste of time, though. If the DA strikes a deal, we’ll want you to fact-check his statements about your siblings to the extent you can.”
Ava chuckled. “Buckle up, boys and girls, the ride is about to get bumpy.”