Chapter 45
“ G ood work, Callie,” Stella Zatoro said over the speakerphone.
Beside her, Sabina nodded, as did Leo and Chad, who sat across the conference table.
Two days had passed since she’d set up her war-room-on-steroids, and in that time, she’d uncovered four more bribes Aiden paid, about ten million he’d skimmed from the company accounts, and four videos (thanks, Leo), of him engaging in behavior with girls far too young to be in the business they’d been forced into.
It hadn’t hurt that Rian had given Leo unfettered access to the IT infrastructure of Nolan Enterprises.
“Now we need to find the agent who’s assisting him,” Chad said, flashing her a look. He’d been with the FBI before joining HICC as well, and while neither of them believed everyone at the Bureau was all justice and light, it still sucked knowing at least one of them wasn’t.
“Any luck with that, Sabina?” Hunter, Stella’s husband, asked.
“We’ve narrowed it down to three people,” she answered. “One deputy director in the unit Callie worked in and two directors in two other units. Both still white-collar units.”
“What’s the holdup?” Hunter asked.
Sabina didn’t take offense at the comment. “One of them has a bit of an arrangement with Aiden. After lunch. We don’t have any proof, outside of her monthly contact with him, that she’s engaged in anything that even borderlines on sketchy, but it’s possible there’s pillow talk.”
“She has bad taste, but we’re not sure about anything else?” Stella clarified.
“Correct,” Leo said. “I’m leaning toward just the bad taste. Which, considering what else we know about Aiden, is almost criminally bad, but not the kind of crime we’re looking for.”
“What about the other two?” Hunter asked.
“Delano Rose and Larry Kline,” Sabina said.
“And they are sketchy. We haven’t connected them to Aiden’s brand of sketchy yet, though,” Leo said.
“How sketchy?” Hunter asked.
“Intimidating witnesses, buying people off, both are on payrolls of organized crime families—different ones—and I’m pretty sure one of them abuses his wife,” Sabina said.
“Charming,” Hunter drawled.
“What’s it going to take to find the connection to Aiden?” Stella asked.
“Any chance one of those families is New York-based?” Callie asked.
Leo and Sabina looked at her, then at each other, before Leo answered. “The family Rose works for is New York-based.”
“Can you review the chatter, see if two of theirs disappeared in the past few days?” she asked.
The room fell silent, then Stella spoke. “You’re thinking that the hitman from Utah might have come from that family?”
“And that they wouldn’t be happy he failed,” Sabina said, nodding, her fingers already flying over her keyboard.
“It’s a long shot, but a possibility,” Callie said. “We’d have to then prove the family sent the hitman at Rose’s request and that Rose’s request originated from Aiden.”
“But it’s worth looking into,” Hunter said.
“Done. I put a few feelers out already. We’ll follow up tomorrow,” Sabina said.
Stella exhaled and shifted, as if sitting forward in her chair. “Good job, team. It goes without saying that regardless of whether it’s Rose or Kline in Aiden’s pocket, both are going down, so go do your thing. Keep us posted as things develop, and we’ll go from there.”
Callie murmured her goodbye, marveling at the difference between the HICC and the FBI.
She no longer second-guessed leaving the Bureau, but at HICC, she did all the things she loved about her work—digging into the dirt and numbers and finding patterns and bad guys (and girls)— and she had bosses that said thank you, trusted the team, and expected results without yelling or pressuring or questioning.
A small part of her wondered if the way she’d been raised made her more easily accept—maybe even feel more comfortable in—the FBI, a place that constantly questioned her, that constantly had her wondering if she was good enough to be there. But that was an issue for another day.
“What are everyone’s plans tonight?” Sabina asked as they gathered their belongings.
“Joey and I are headed over to Mantis’s for dinner. Charley’s cooking,” Leo replied.
“What about you and Philly?” Sabina asked. “Once this is over, you two should take a honeymoon.”
“We’ve been talking about it, actually,” Callie said, dipping a toe in that blurry space between personal and professional.
“We’ll see. Speaking of traveling, any news on Aiden’s whereabouts?
” Yeah, the other thing they’d discovered in the past two days: Aiden Nolan hadn’t traveled to Seoul as he’d told Rian.
So far, though, they hadn’t been able to track him.
“The private flight he chartered landed on Grand Cayman island,” Leo replied. “But then it hopped back to Miami. I’m working on getting the CCTV from the island airport to see if he stayed there, but it’s…”
She tossed him a grin as they headed toward their respective offices. “Shouldn’t accessing CCTV be a walk in the park for you?”
Leo flashed her a wry smile. “The private side of the airport is used to having people fly in and out who would rather remain anonymous, so the coverage in those areas is nearly nonexistent. I did check the hotel he’s stayed at the past five times he’s been, but he’s not there.
Doesn’t mean he couldn’t be somewhere else, though. ”
They paused in the hallway; turning right led to her office, the left to the cyber lab. “What else are you looking at?”
He grimaced. “I’m searching every local shop, bank, or business in the area that might have footage and seeing if I can get a glimpse of him that way.”
“Yikes,” she said.
“Yeah, that about sums it up. I’ve had worse situations. The island isn’t that big. But it takes time.”
“Is he still telling Rian that he’s in South Korea and having problems finding a flight back?”
Leo nodded. “Rian told him today not to bother since Joe has been upgraded again. He knows his dad isn’t in Seoul and figured if he stopped pressuring him to come back, then maybe Aiden would get more comfortable.”
“Comfortable enough to make a mistake?” Leo inclined his head. “What about at Miami? Could he have continued on to that destination rather than staying on the island?”
“It’s possible,” Leo replied. “But the airport in Miami has a similar setup to the one in the Caymans, although at a different scale. The plane taxied into a private hangar. An SUV arrived a few minutes later, windows so tinted I couldn’t see inside, then it left again fifteen minutes later.”
“And we have no idea if he was in that SUV,” she said, more to herself.
“Maybe we shouldn’t narrow our focus to Rose and his connection to the New York crime family.
The hitman was a New Yorker. But assuming he works for a New York-based family versus a Miami one is an assumption I shouldn’t have made.
Any idea where the SUV went after it left the airport? ”
“To a hotel—where Aiden did not check in—then to a residence in Coral Gables.”
She stared at him. “How in the world did you track all that?”
He shrugged. “Long story. We used to do it manually—find our target at one traffic cam, then look at all the others nearby until we spotted him again. It was tedious. And while it still takes a while, Collin developed an app that will scan all the footage for us and find the route. It’s not infallible, not yet, but it’s way better than the old way.
And before you ask, we’re looking into who owns the house.
It’s buried in a bunch of layers of ownership, but Collin thought he’d have it figured out by tomorrow. ”
She took the information in and let it percolate.
After a few seconds, one thought bubbled to the surface.
“How many other cases or ops are you supporting?” she asked.
This wasn’t his only one, and she supposed that was one of the drawbacks of HICC.
At the FBI, when a case got this close, it was all hands on deck and the focus of an entire team.
HICC didn’t operate that way; they wouldn’t drop their existing ops or cases or stop taking on new ones.
Leo lifted a shoulder. “We’re focused on five others. There are more operatives in the field than that, but not all of them need cyber support.”
A pang of guilt twisted her stomach. The team probably had more pressing life-or-death situations to deal with than the Nolans.
“Don’t,” Leo said. Her gaze darted to his.
“Don’t go making this something it isn’t.
You’ll learn soon enough that while HICC is a job, in a way, it’s a family, too.
We take care of our own. It’s one of the reasons so many people want to work here but also why so many people don’t make the grade.
Hundreds of people have the qualifications to do the work, but Stella and Hunter toss about 99 percent of the applications—not that there are traditional applications, but you know what I mean.
You made the cut, that means something—both skill-wise and your integrity and values.
Which makes you one of ours.” He paused, then added with a smile.
“And this ‘family’ has a tendency to find themselves in interesting situations, so don’t doubt there will come a day when you’re in my position—juggling six different situations.
You do what you can and keep plugging along. ”
Younger than her by several years, Callie thought Leo far more mature than his age warranted.
And also reassuring. The team wasn’t helping with the expectation of her “paying them back,” but the possibility that she might be able to at some time in the future made it easier to accept the burden she placed on their shoulders now.
“What are your plans tonight?” Leo asked, glancing toward his office.
“I’m picking up pizza from Teodoro’s on the way home, and it will be pizza and movie night at our place.”
“My favorite,” he said with a smile. “Although dinner by Charley is a close second.”
They said their goodbyes, and she headed to her office to close everything down for the night. By the time she pulled out of the lot, Sabina’s car was gone, and she glimpsed the taillights of Leo’s turning onto the road toward town.
Waving to the security guard, she followed in the same direction as Leo, her mind drifting, as it always did, to everything they’d discovered in the past few days.
Liza would be proud of her. And was probably preening in whatever afterlife she believed in.
She’d been right—so right—about the Nolans.
Despite all the pushback that the Bureau had thrown up to stop her, she’d been right.
She followed the map on her GPS to Teodoro’s, pulling into a spot on the back end of the small lot. Trucks, SUVs, and all-wheel-drive cars filled the other spaces, and while Mystery Lake wasn’t a small-small town—it had a population of about fifty thousand people—the packed lot surprised her.
When she stepped in, though, it all made sense. The high school football game must have ended recently, and students and parents alike crowded the booths and tables.
“Hi, you here for pickup or eat in?” a man about her age asked, his gaze darting to the overflowing restaurant as he asked.
“Pickup, but I didn’t call it in,” she said, wishing she’d had the foresight. She had her e-reader with her, though, and could pass the time.
He smiled, obviously relieved at not having to make her wait for a table. “Not a problem, we can get something in the oven for you fast. No more than a twenty-minute wait.”
“Perfect,” she said, placing an order for two pizzas.
They’d never finish both in one night, but Gabriel had always loved cold pizza, and she took a gamble that that trait hadn’t changed.
The man took her order, then offered her a glass of wine or beer while she waited, a kindness she didn’t turn down.
Taking her pint of local IPA, she found a single chair tucked in the corner by the front window, took a seat, and pulled out her book.
Nineteen minutes later, they called her order, and a few minutes after that, she headed back to her car with two pizzas that smelled so amazing, she planned to steal a piece for the drive home.
Halfway across the lot, her phone rang, and she pulled the device from her purse, smiling when Gabriel’s name flashed on the screen. “I got the pizzas, and I’m headed to my car, then home,” she said after connecting the call.
“Pizzas? As in plural?” Gabriel asked. She paused as a truck cruised by, then continued toward her car. Her gaze flickered to the woods on the edge of the lot. An errant thought teased her mind but receded when the door to Teodoro’s opened and the sound of raucous laughter filtered out.
“I took a gamble that you still like cold pizza. Figured I’ll bring you breakfast as well,” she said.
“One of the many reasons I love you.”
He’d said those three words many times in the past few days, but it all still felt a little surreal. Not too good to be true—because what they shared was both very real and very true—but she couldn’t believe how lucky she was—how lucky they were—to have found their way back to each other.
Her car unlocked when she touched the handle of the passenger door, and she slid the pizzas onto the floor.
“Want me to pick up any wine or beer on the way home?” she asked, shutting the door and rounding the back to the driver’s side.
She paused, the earlier thought she’d had but that drifted away resurfaced.
Looking up, she found the cause. The light that covered this corner of the lot had gone out, casting the woods into darkness.
Still, other lights in the area were on, as were a few streetlights across the road.
“No, I grabbed a growler of beer from Rita’s today,” he said as she walked the last few feet to her door. “An IPA from a new brewery near Sonora. The brewmaster just started distribution outside the brewery, and it’s damn good.”
Pizza and beer. Two of her favorite things. And Gabriel. She was a lucky woman.
“Perfect,” she said. “I’ll be home in fifteen minutes,” she said, tossing her purse into the car.
“Drive—”
The rest of what Gabriel intended to say was nothing more than a distant echo as a rope closed around her neck from behind and her phone clattered to the pavement.