23

Adam poured another cup of coffee. He’d lost count of how many he’d had. He probably wouldn’t be able to sleep for another twenty-four hours.

The press had gotten wind of Friday night’s events and descended overnight on the sheriff’s office in far greater numbers than was typical.

But no one was talking.

The sheriff hadn’t been thrilled he’d been left out of the loop until the warrants were already being served, but he understood the need to run the operation as tightly as possible. And to his credit, he’d put a gag order on everyone associated with the case.

“No one’s going to benefit from these people’s suffering,” he said. “I will tolerate no grandstanding or political posturing. That this went on as long as it did—right under our noses—is a tragedy. A stain on our county and on our law enforcement community. We’ll have plenty of time in the weeks ahead to discuss how this happened, where we dropped the ball, and what we can do to ensure nothing like this ever happens again, but for now our focus is undivided. We’ll see that the victims are protected and given everything they need to start their lives fresh. And we’ll see that the men and women who perpetrated these heinous crimes pay for their actions.” The sheriff then threatened to fire anyone caught talking to the press and told them to get back to work.

At five in the morning, Adam was in the observation room watching the captain and Gabe interview Barclay Campbell. Barclay’s lawyer had arrived at the sheriff’s office before Barclay did. Barclay had been processed first and even though his lawyer was demanding he be sent home immediately, Barclay had the look of a man who knew he was going down.

He wasn’t going to make it easy on them, but he knew.

A deputy peered into the room. “Investigator Campbell?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but there’s a woman downstairs who says she wants to speak to you and only you.”

“Who is she?”

“It’s Mrs. Van Storber.”

Five minutes later, Adam sat across the table from Mrs. Van Storber. She’d been at the gala and was a person of interest, but there was no proof she knew what was going on.

“You wanted to speak to me, ma’am?”

“You were at the gala tonight.”

“Yes.”

“You knew this was going to happen.” She didn’t say it as a question.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the specifics of the investigation,” he said. The truth was, he hadn’t known at all. If they hadn’t found those shacks occupied and the people ready to talk, none of this would have happened.

“Well, I’m here to tell you that you haven’t looked far enough. Not yet. You’ve only scratched the surface.”

“Are you telling me you knew about the women in the basement of your spa?”

She twitched in her seat. “There was nothing I could do.”

“You could have come to the police. You could have made an anonymous phone call.”

Her eyes widened at his words.

“It was you,” he said. “You’re the source of the tip about the girls at Barclay’s spa last year.”

She didn’t confirm it, but she didn’t deny it either.

“Why would you try to get those girls free and not the ones on your own property?”

She snorted. “It isn’t my property.”

“You’re his wife.”

“He bought me.”

Adam’s mouth went dry. Oh, Father. No.

“We have children. Four of them. They are my life. I couldn’t risk it. He would’ve had me killed, and then he would’ve raised my sons to be just like him. No.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t take that chance.”

“Mrs. Van Storber—”

“Please. Call me Greta.”

Somehow he got the feeling this was more about her wanting to avoid hearing Van Storber’s name than about her trying to achieve any sort of familiarity.

“Greta, you’re going to need an attorney. A good one. Because unless you have proof . . .”

She stood and turned her back to him. She reached behind her and lifted her shirt.

Bile rose in Adam’s throat. Her back was covered in scars . . . and fresh stripes.

She lowered her shirt and turned around. “I have proof.”

Adam still couldn’t speak. How could he tell her the physical beating—while horrific—wouldn’t stand up in court unless she could somehow prove her husband had done it.

“Mr. Campbell, Lisa Palmer trusted you. She’d done her research. She said you were the one who would be able to see this through. She told me if anything happened to her, you were the one I should talk to.”

She removed her watch and slid it across the table to Adam. “It’s in there.”

Adam studied the timepiece. The hands weren’t moving. He turned it over and opened the back.

One microSD card rested where the watch gears had been.

“I need to leave before my husband finds out I was here,” she said. “I trust you won’t tell him where you found this.”

“Of course,” he said. “But, Greta, take your children and leave. Now. Don’t stay there another hour.”

She stood. “You make it sound easy. There’s nothing easy about this. Even from a jail cell, he still owns me. I’m not here for my own freedom. I’m here for theirs. Take care of that, Mr. Campbell. People died to get it to you.”

“Wait.”

She paused at Adam’s word.

“Do you know who killed Lisa?”

“Some men who work for my husband, but I don’t know their names. But I know they didn’t mean to kill her. At least not right away. They didn’t know she was sick. They waterboarded her . . . and she died.”

That explained the drowning.

“The men who were torturing her panicked when she died before she gave them what they needed. They tried to make it look like a suicide and hoped it would just go away. One of them drove the car into the lake and put her behind the wheel and swam out. Then they went to her house and took her computers. They went back to the lake Sunday morning and realized the car was visible, so they pulled her out of the water.” A small sob escaped Mrs. Van Storber, but she pressed on. “They pulled her out and one of the men pretended to be a hero.”

“How do you know all this?” Adam asked.

“My husband was furious when he found out. There was a lot of yelling. It wasn’t hard to put it all together.” She shrugged. “If they had told him what they’d done, he would have disposed of her body himself. But he was out of town, and by the time he found out, her body had been discovered and the police were already searching her house. That’s when he decided to blow up her house. He didn’t know she’d left the insurance policy with me. If he ever finds out, I’ll be next.”

She walked out the door and he let her go. He couldn’t hold her, and he feared if he tried to and her husband got wind of it, he’d have one of his men beat her. Or worse.

He called Sabrina.

“Hey.” Her voice was filled with fatigue.

“Any chance you could come here or I could meet you at your lab?”

“What’s going on?”

“New evidence. A microSD card.”

“Have you looked at it yet?”

“Are you kidding me?” He knew better than that. “I haven’t even touched it yet.”

She laughed. “Good. Can you meet me at my lab around six thirty?”

“Yes. And Sabrina, make sure someone comes with you. I don’t want you driving alone.”

“Why? We got them.”

“I know. Humor me?”

“Fine. I’m sure Anissa won’t mind.”

By 7:00 a.m., Sabrina had made a copy of the memory card and gone to work. It took her no time at all to find the files. None of them were encrypted. Lisa Palmer had laid it all out there for them.

Most of it they’d already figured out. Mr. Van Storber had been the ringleader. He had the connections with the recruiters who actually took the money and got the people to the States.

Barclay Campbell had gotten involved after some late-night poker games went south a few too many times. But once he was in, he was all in. He’d gone from a reluctant participant to a full-fledged supporter. He’d been influential in bringing in Senator Carson. They’d been friends for a long time. He’d convinced him it would be an easy way to save hundreds of thousands of dollars per year. Of course, it also meant they now had him over a barrel.

Lisa’s notes told them things they hadn’t known. That the Sullivans owed so much money that they were about to go under and the senator had made the connections that brought The Porterhouse into the mix.

That FreedomForAll wasn’t a dirty charity after all, but that the traffickers had been intentional about volunteering with the organization so they would be able to deflect suspicion away from the worst offenders.

That Mrs. Johnson had no idea her yacht staff were slaves.

The group had stuck with labor trafficking until last year, when they’d ventured into sex trafficking. The women who had been sex trafficked had been kept separate from the other victims and had either died or been sold to their abusers, who had then taken them out of state.

The information went on and on. Some of it wouldn’t hold up in court, but it was more than enough to get all the search warrants they could handle. Assets were frozen. Homes and offices and everything in them were sealed.

As Mrs. Van Storber had said, it was far bigger than they’d realized. They would be working this case for months. Maybe years. It was complicated and messy and the kind of thing that left Adam wishing he could somehow bleach his brain and get all the evil images out of it.

Adam’s phone rang. It was Gabe. “What’s going on?”

“You’re not going to believe what they found in the Dumpster at Barclay Campbell’s office.”

“You sound happy, so I’m going to assume it wasn’t a body.”

“Nope. Sabrina’s phone.”

“Hang on. I’m going to put this on speaker so Sabrina can hear.” He tapped the button and set the phone on the desk. “Say that again, Gabe.”

“We found Sabrina’s phone in the Dumpster behind Barclay Campbell’s office.”

“You’re kidding.” Sabrina shook her head in disbelief.

“Nope. He’s not talking to anybody about anything. Refuses to answer any questions at all. But the phone was in his Dumpster. And it was last emptied on Saturday, so the timing works.”

“Yeah.” The timing worked, but Adam couldn’t make it make sense.

“Guess what else we found in there.” Gabe was clearly enjoying dragging out his story.

“What?” Sabrina still looked stunned.

“A piece of an RPG launcher.”

“A piece?” Something was very off about this whole situation, but Adam couldn’t put his finger on why he felt that way.

“Yeah. Just one. I’m guessing they disassembled it and dumped it in different places around town.”

Adam didn’t understand enough about RPG launchers to know, but he had to ask. “Is there any way to know if it was from the one used on us?”

“Unlikely. But forensics will check for prints and all that good stuff.”

“Certainly does seem to tie them to all the attacks. But I can’t wait to find out why they were determined to take out Sabrina.”

“Maybe they knew how big of an advocate she is for human trafficking victims. Maybe that made it personal to them.”

“Maybe.” Sabrina didn’t sound convinced. Neither was Adam.

“Although, I have one other theory, but I don’t think either of you will like it,” Gabe said.

“Let’s hear it,” Sabrina said.

“They knew Lisa Palmer had gone to Adam. That’s why they killed her.”

“We already know that,” Adam said.

“True, but if that’s the case, what better way to derail you than by taking Sabrina out?”

Adam met Sabrina’s eyes. If she’d died last Monday, or Thursday, what would he be doing now? Grieving. Planning a funeral. The very idea sent chills down his spine.

But would he be working this case?

Not likely.

“But we weren’t, you know . . .” Sabrina frowned.

Gabe laughed. “You weren’t together? Technically not. I’ll grant you that. But anyone with half a brain knew how Adam felt about you.”

“I didn’t,” she said.

“That’s because you’re an overthinker. That massive brain of yours was a hindrance to you, my dear.”

Sabrina actually looked flattered rather than offended.

“Regardless,” Gabe continued, “the captain wants to pull back on the security detail. We need every deputy we can spare working this case.”

“I don’t like it.” Adam couldn’t shake the sense that they were missing something.

“I think it’s wise,” Sabrina said. “I don’t need babysitters, and if it frees up people to help the victims and bring the perpetrators to justice, then I’m all in favor.”

“I still think you need to use caution,” Gabe said. “We don’t yet have proof of what was going on. We don’t know if our guy in the morgue is the same one who fired the RPG or even for sure if he’s the one who attacked you Monday morning. So don’t do anything crazy. Make sure Adam knows where you are.”

“I will.”

Adam disconnected the call. Sabrina walked to her office window and stared out into the parking lot. “Someone’s going to need to tell Tyler to stand down.”

Adam joined her. Tyler was making a circuit around the building. “Would it be wrong for me to forget to tell him? Maybe for another couple of weeks?”

Sabrina smiled, but there was a sadness in her eyes.

“What’s on your mind?”

She sighed and bit her lip. “My mom.”