Chapter Seventeen
Huntsville Police Department
Wheeler Avenue
Ben sat next to Brenda as she explained all she had learned this afternoon about Mallory Lawrence and how she had not been able to contact her since around eight last night, and even then she had not been able to speak with her daughter.
“But,” Detective Shelton said, “you asked Ms. Lawrence to take your child and hide out. Isn’t that correct?”
Ben wanted to punch the man, and if it were not for being arrested and separated from Brenda he would. Damn it. But he couldn’t risk allowing her out of his sight with all that was happening. The situation had escalated to the worst possible scenario.
“That’s correct,” Ben answered for Brenda when she only stared at the detective.
“But there were specific instructions attached. Now we’ve learned that Ms. Lawrence lied about being able to take the child where she told Brenda she was taking her.
Ms. Lawrence’s own mother has not heard from her in days.
Not to mention, Ms. Lawrence specifically said that her boyfriend was going with them to the cabin.
As it turns out, she dumped her boyfriend a month ago. ”
“Maybe she has a new boyfriend,” Shelton tossed back.
The man was trying Ben’s patience in the worst way. “Regardless,” he argued, “Ms. Lawrence clearly had an agenda not known to Brenda. Now Janey is missing. I’m confident we both understand the law and the proper procedures for this sort of situation with a vulnerable minor child.”
Shelton eyed him for a moment. “We do, yes. Well.” He turned to Brenda. “Let’s get that paperwork done, shall we?”
Ben’s cell vibrated. He leaned toward Brenda. “I have to take a call. I’ll be right outside the office if you need me.” He looked to Shelton then. “I’m sure the detective has everything in hand to take the necessary steps.”
As much as he hated leaving her for even a moment, he stepped out of the office but stayed close. Brenda was beside herself with fear for her child, and she had every right to be. This was an increasingly dangerous situation.
He drew out his phone and accepted the call from his colleague. He’d hoped to hear from him today. Brenda was swiftly running out of hope. “What do you have for me, Max?” he asked. “Something that will help us crack this one, I hope.”
“Maybe not anything that significant,” Max allowed.
“But perhaps a little something to help you along. The numbers you provided are definitely account numbers. We’ve narrowed them down to the bank—which was not readily discernible since the first part of the numbers were actually the routing numbers, but they were written in a pattern that had to be deciphered. It took a minute.”
Ben had anticipated there was an issue with the numbers, but he had known Max was the man for the job. “Are the accounts listed under either Scott Devers or Tate Jenner?”
“Actually,” Max explained, “they’re listed under the name Brenda Devers.”
That was something Ben hadn’t seen coming. “That would mean only Brenda Devers could access them.”
“More or less,” Max agreed. “Anyone who presented with the proper identification as Brenda Devers and who knew the account numbers as well as the passcodes could access whatever funds the accounts contain.”
“Did you find anything else on Mallory Lawrence?”
“I have a list of former addresses and employers. I forwarded those to your email along with the rest of my findings. I am digging deeper for any addresses that might still be active under her name. As far as any criminal record, there isn’t one under that name or involving those fingerprints.”
That was possibly a good thing. “Anything new on the cartel’s activities in the Huntsville area? I sent you the name Dirk Lanier. He had a fake driver’s license that listed him as being from Birmingham.”
“There’s nothing on the name Dirk Lanier.
But I tapped into the database the Huntsville Police Department used for running his prints.
As the detective told you, there is nothing in the database, but I also ran him through Interpol.
I’m not sure why the detective didn’t do the same since Lanier is suspected of being associated with a South American drug cartel.
The good news—or bad depending on how you look at it—is that I got a hit at Interpol.
As you suspected, the alleged intruder, Dirk Lanier, is an alias for a known cartel assassin.
Interpol should be contacting the detective about him as well as about the unidentified victim from the explosion.
His DNA results had not been sent to Interpol until I borrowed them and sent them along. The guy is cartel as well.”
The information about Lanier and the other explosion victim confirmed what York had told them.
The cartel was aware that Brenda might be the key to getting whatever it was that Devers had taken from them—most likely money.
Otherwise, Lanier would have killed her and Janey the night he entered their home.
In Ben’s opinion, these details also confirmed that Lanier was likely the intruder.
Even the address left under the Barbie elevator was obviously part of the game.
Had Scott Devers suggested the man use a hiding place like that to ensure Brenda found it?
Probably not. Ben had a feeling Devers was staying far away from anyone related to the cartel.
More likely, Lanier was one who did his homework and drew his own conclusions.
“Anything else?” Ben was grateful for the information. It was far more than they had gotten from the detective or the Bureau. Even tying up one or two loose ends was useful in an investigation like this one.
“The special agent you mentioned… Cummings.”
“Yes. Did you find something relevant on him?”
“Nope. That’s the problem. He doesn’t exist.”
Well, now, that would certainly explain the aura of deceit Ben had picked up on in the man’s presence. “Do you have any specifics at all?”
“Since I don’t have his fingerprints, I ran that pic you snapped by a friend at Interpol.
He says this guy is some high-up mucky-muck involved with the cartel.
We can’t confirm this, of course, without prints.
But he was pretty sure based on the photo.
If someone that far up the food chain is there, watching your client and pretending to be a part of the investigation, then this is big.
Really big. I sent you what I learned on him—assuming he’s the man my contact thinks he is.
If he is, that would explain why nothing related to the investigation is reaching Interpol. ”
“Thanks, Max. I’ll get back to you. If I find a way to get Cummings’s prints I’ll shoot them your way.”
“You got it.”
“Wait.” Ben had been mulling over the partner, Tate Jenner.
“See if you can find anything else on Tate Jenner and his wife, Lena. With all that’s happened seemingly connecting Brenda to what Scott was doing, let’s see if the same was being done with Jenner’s wife.
” Then he gave his colleague a quick update on the news from Ginger York, the blonde from LAX.
“Thanks for the update,” Max said. “I’ll call when I have something.”
The call ended. This was all good information, but none of it was good news. Brenda was in way, way over her head here. So was Detective Shelton for that matter. His investigation was going nowhere because he was trusting Cummings to coordinate between local PD and places like Interpol.
Bottom line, Scott Devers had screwed up royally.
Either that or he’d built a multilayered cover to hide what he was really doing.
Had Tate been killed to take him out of play…
so all was forfeited to Scott? That scenario was suddenly gaining momentum for Ben.
Once he had something more to go on, he would move in that direction.
He rapped on the detective’s door before entering his office. Brenda was just signing the necessary paperwork. Good timing.
“We’ll get the Amber Alert going,” Shelton assured her. “As soon as we hear anything at all you’ll know.”
Ben made a curious face. “I haven’t seen your friend Agent Cummings around today. Should we be worried he’s disappeared as well?”
Shelton got to his feet, following Brenda’s lead. “Got no idea. The feds do what the feds do. You should know that.”
No question. “We all set?” Ben looked to Brenda.
She nodded. “I really need to go home right now.”
“Of course.” As they reached the door, Ben paused and glanced back at Shelton. “We’re counting on you to help us find Janey.”
Shelton nodded. “I’m on it.”
“Maybe,” Ben suggested, “you should check in with Agent Cummings’s superior. There’s something about him.” Ben shook his head. “I’m not sure he’s got your back, Shelton.”
The detective said nothing. When it all came out, he wouldn’t be able to say Ben hadn’t warned him.
The worst part about this case, Ben concluded, as they made their way out of the building, was the fact that so far they had found no one at all they dared to trust. Evidently Scott Devers was correct in warning his wife not to trust anyone.
Outside he went through the usual routine before they climbed into the car. It was tedious but unfortunately necessary.
“Did your colleague give you any news?” Brenda asked as they drove away from the police department.
“When we get to your house we’ll go over the details in the email Max sent me.”
“Then,” she said, staring at his profile, “I’m going out to find my daughter and I’m not going to stop until I do.”
“We’ll do it together,” he agreed.
He wouldn’t sleep again until he found her.