6
Brady raised a brow. “I’m pretty sure I would agree with that. At least not without protection. We’ll make sure you have that.”
“We will?” Derek asked. Brady scowled at his younger brother and Derek held up a hand. “We will.”
“No, no,” Emily said. “I don’t want to put you out.”
“You’re not putting us out,” Brady said.
“Absolutely not,” Derek agreed. “I wasn’t protesting, I was just surprised he was offering. He’s not usually so quick to do something like that.”
Brady snorted. “Thanks, Derek.”
His brother flushed. “That’s not what I meant. You’re a nice guy who likes to help people. I just meant you’re not an impulsive kind of guy. You usually take thirty minutes to order at a restaurant because you think through each choice on the menu. Offering protection for someone you just met is so out of—” Linc punched him in the arm. Derek winced and glared at his brother. “What’d you do that for?”
“Shut up,” Linc said.
Brady shot Derek a dark look but could feel the heat climbing into his cheeks because he didn’t have a good argument. “Yeah, good time to stop talking. Why don’t you go call Elaine or something? Come on, let’s go.”
They loaded into Linc’s King Cab pickup. “Who’s Elaine?” Emily asked.
“Derek’s on-again, off-again fiancée.”
“Ouch. Which one’s afraid of commitment?”
“Elaine. Surprisingly enough.”
“So are they on or off right now?”
“On. I think.”
Linc drove them back to the smoldering cabin and Brady climbed out, wincing at the sight of the blackened shell. “So much for returning it the same way I found it,” he muttered.
Firefighters continued to monitor the area, making sure the fire was truly out. He flashed his badge and his brothers did the same.
Allowed access to the area, Brady led Emily to his truck. She reached for the passenger door handle, but he laid his hand on top of hers to stop her. “Let me have a look first.” His hand lingered a second longer than he’d intended, triggering the thought that he liked her. A lot.
You don’t know her. Keep her safe and move on. Just like you should have done with Krystal. It was a good plan. He just hoped he stuck to it.
The side of the truck facing the cabin had been scorched but, other than that, looked like it had survived relatively unharmed. “My dive gear.”
He moved quickly to the storage box that ran the width of the truck behind the window and spun the combination lock. Inside, he found his gear untouched and apparently unharmed. Relief pounded him and he was grateful he’d put it back into the box once he’d finished diving instead of leaving it in the cabin bedroom. But it was habit. Always be prepared for a call no matter what. Thankfully, that had paid off tonight.
Further inspection showed the contents of his glove compartment had been scattered over the front seat. Using the hem of his shirt, he opened the door.
Linc stepped up beside him. “They searched your truck.”
“Just the glove compartment.”
“Looking for your address,” Linc said.
“No doubt.”
“They find it?”
“I don’t know. Registration card is still here, but they could have snapped a picture of it.” He raked a hand through his hair. “The fact that they left everything out on the seat means they don’t care if I know they now know where I live.”
“Not just you, but Ruthie and me too,” Derek said.
“And considering these guys like to play with explosives, I’m not real comfortable with that,” Linc said.
“I’m going to put Ruthie on notice that she’s not to go home until we have coverage on the house,” Derek said. “I’ll arrange that too.”
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said. “This is my fault you all got dragged into this.”
Brady turned to find Emily with tears swimming in her eyes, deepening them into a shade of purple he couldn’t quite name. “Aw, Emily. Don’t.” He pulled her into a loose hug. She stiffened and he almost lowered his arms. After all, they’d just met a few hours ago. It felt like longer than that. Then she wilted and dropped her head to his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “Don’t forget that the guy shot at me. I have a bit of a personal stake in this as well.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“Maybe a little, but I still mean it.”
A tiny laugh escaped her. At least he thought it was a laugh. Whatever it was, it seemed to lighten her burden slightly. He’d take it. He caught Linc watching and the speculative, albeit slightly worried, look in his brother’s eyes had him giving a mental grimace. He rolled his eyes and Linc simply raised a brow.
Emily stepped back and swiped the tears. Then lifted her chin, narrowed her eyes, and gave a sharp nod. “All right, if these guys want to play dirty, then that’s what we’ll do. Tell me what I can do to help.”
The change that swept over her made him blink. The helpless victim was gone. A woman with focus in her gaze and determination in her stance now faced him.
“Um . . . okay. What just happened? It’s like you went through some weird mutant transformation. What do you know about fighting dirty anyway?”
She let out a short, humorless laugh. “As a teen, I lived on the streets for a year and managed to survive. Part of that survival involved fighting dirty. The other part was pushing down emotions that aren’t productive for survival, because being perceived as weak can have really bad consequences. Fighting these guys is going to require much of the same skill set, I would suspect.”
Brady’s jaw dropped a fraction and Derek stared while Linc’s brows rose. Then his brothers turned their gazes to him.
Brady cleared his throat. “Hopefully, we’ll be able to keep you safe and you won’t have to do much of the fighting. Now, stand back while I check for anything that might go boom.” When he found nothing that concerned him, he helped her into the front of his truck and handed her the keys. “Start it up and get the heat going if you want to.”
He shut the door, heard the engine growl to life, and turned back to Linc and Derek. “Okay, that was interesting, and I have even more questions that I want to ask her.”
“Be careful,” Derek said, “you might not like the answers.”
“I’m a big boy, I can handle it,” he said. A glance at Emily’s firm jaw and narrowed eyes had him amending that. “Maybe. That being said, I still want you on my side and at my back. I want y’all on this investigation with me.”
Linc hesitated. “Not that I’m not willing, but you guys and the Columbia police department are more than capable of handling this without FBI input. The kidnapping took place in Sicily, so that’s where the investigation is going to start. Since you know so many of the cops over there, you shouldn’t have any trouble working it.”
“I do know the cops in Sicily,” Brady said. “They’re not going to mind if I butt in.”
“Nope. But they will think you’re crazy,” Derek said. “Every detective on the force is overworked.”
“I know, but this is something I have to do.”
“Then they’ll probably hand the case to you on a silver platter,” Linc said. “I’d check with your captain, though.”
“Of course.”
Derek shrugged. “I’ll do what I can to help. OCN is busier than ever and it took a lot of negotiating to get the next few days off so we could come babysit you.”
“Babysit me?” He laughed. “Seriously? So, that’s what you guys were doing so close to the cabin and how you got there so fast?”
“Guilty,” Linc said. “But, I have to admit, I was looking forward to it.”
“Yeah, me too.” Derek sighed. “But now we’ve got an attempted murder to figure out.”
“If you count arson,” Brady said, “it’s essentially another attempted murder.”
Linc nodded. “And Emily’s kidnapping. As soon as I hear something back on the security footage, I’ll pass it on to the locals and they can take it from there.”
“Right. Keep telling yourself that.”
Derek laughed and Linc scowled. Brady sobered. “It’s about to get busy, boys,” he said. “But first order of business is to get me a phone. Mine is fried to a crisp.”
“I need one too,” Emily said.
He looked over to find she’d rolled the window down. “We’ll get you one,” he said.
“I’m afraid I don’t have any money or anything on me. Most of my belongings were in my purse when I was snatched.”
“We’ll take care of everything,” Brady said and headed for the driver’s door. “Ready when y’all are.”
Emily rode in the passenger seat of Brady’s truck while Derek and Linc followed. The events of the last few weeks blipped across the screen of her mind. It had all started with seeing Jeremy Hightower walk into the bank and into her boss’s office. Pure rage and a white-hot hate had nearly taken her to her knees. The emotions had shocked her, as she’d thought she’d come so far in putting him out of her mind—her life. Guess not.
“What are you thinking about?”
She jerked at Brady’s question then cleared her throat. “A lot of stuff. Why?”
“You looked really intense.”
“I was just thinking how life can be so fickle. That just when you think you have it mostly figured out, it throws you a curve ball that takes you by surprise and before you can react, you get slammed right between the eyes. Or taken down at the knees. Either way, it’s not good.”
“I was right. That’s intense. Is that what the kidnapping did to you?”
“No, that happened a couple of weeks before the kidnapping.”
He slid her a sideways glance. “You’ve had a rough time of it lately, sounds like.”
“I’ll admit I’ve had better weeks.” She tugged on the sleeves of the too-large sweatshirt and let the cuffs cover her fingertips. Then stopped and pushed them back to her wrists. She would not revert to behavior she’d overcome years ago.
“So, what happened before the kidnapping?”
“I saw someone I haven’t seen in a long time.”
“I didn’t know he was back in town and it was a shock to see him. Especially walking into my bank.”
“A shock, huh?”
“Yes.” She frowned. “Why?”
“You didn’t say ‘surprise.’ In this instance, shock has bad connotations here. So, I’m deducing that he hurt you once upon a time.”
Emily sucked in a breath. “That’s just scary.”
“It’s my job. Sometimes I’m wrong, but not often.”
“Well, don’t do that anymore, it’s creepy.”
“Does he have something to do with those scars on your arms?”
She fell silent. Then rubbed her forehead. “Yes,” she finally said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” She sighed and gave a small shrug. “It was years ago. I’ve done a lot of healing since then.” And a lot of helping other teens just like the one she’d once been. She’d told her story many times over in an attempt to encourage others that they, too, could overcome whatever bad stuff life handed them. But for some reason, she didn’t want to tell Brady.
He glanced at her. “I’m glad.”
She shot him a faint smile. “Thanks.”
“How are your wrists?”
“They sting, but they’re fine. How’s your knee?”
“Sore, but at least it’s my left one and I can drive.”
“This is some pretty stilted conversation. What is it that you really want to ask me?”
He raised a brow. “You’re kind of good at reading between the lines yourself, aren’t you?”
“Call it survival instinct.”
“I want to hear about that later.” Fingers tapping the wheel, he pursed his lips and shook his head. “For now, tell me what happened the day your past walked into your bank.”
“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”
“Not if it will help us figure out if it had something to do with you—and me—almost getting killed.”
She groaned. Did she even want to get into it? Then again, her past walking into her bank—as Brady put it—was the reason she’d found the whole suspicious money trail in the first place. “His name is Jeremy Hightower. I went to high school with him. Basically he was a jerk to the nth degree and I never wanted to have anything to do with him ever again. And didn’t think I’d have to when I heard he went to college out west.”
“Ouch. High school bully?”
“To put it mildly. Anyway, when he came into the bank, he had a meeting with my boss, Calvin Swift. He went straight to Calvin’s office, so he didn’t see me cowering in the corner.”
“I have a hard time picturing you cowering.”
She wanted to laugh but couldn’t quite manage it. She had cowered—and that shamed her. Never again. “Thanks, but . . .”
“So, he didn’t see you, but you saw him.”
“I did. It didn’t take long for the shock to wear off and the rage to start boiling. I was going to speak to him. Be very controlled and professional just to prove to myself that I could, that he had no power over me anymore. So I walked over to Calvin’s office. The door was cracked and I could hear them talking.”
“About?”
“I . . . I don’t know. As soon as I heard his voice, I ran to the bathroom and threw up.”
“Emily,” he whispered.
She held up a hand. If he got all nice and compassionate, she’d never finish. The fact that she hadn’t been able to face Jeremy without getting sick frustrated her. Shamed her. “Once I was sure he was gone, I looked him up to see if he was in the bank’s system. And he was. Five weeks prior, he’d opened four new accounts, each with an initial deposit of around nine thousand dollars—all under different business names.”
“Not so weird in and of itself.”
“No, but . . . something just didn’t set right with me, so I kept digging. He had all the paperwork, ID, addresses, et cetera that he needed. The business addresses are all post office boxes or apartment complexes. The Articles of Incorporation were from Florida and New York.”
“I see where this is going. Those are two high-volume human trafficking states.”
“Yes. And he kept the deposits under the required cash reporting threshold.”
“Funnel accounts?” Brady asked.
“That’s what I was thinking. And then two days later, large sums went out to different accounts, withdrawn from towns not too far from Sicily. One in Columbia, one in Lexington, one in Irmo, and one in Richland County.”
“Now I’m really not liking where this is going.”
“Exactly. Over the course of the next week, cash deposits between nine thousand and ninety-five hundred went in each day. I couldn’t leave it alone. I continued to research the deposits and withdrawals. Most deposits were made between 10:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. at various branches around the city, and then within two days, the funds were withdrawn and moved.”
“Whose names are on these accounts?”
“Corporations and businesses with Jeremy as the contact person, but I don’t think he was the head of the organization. I think he was simply the dispatcher—and the one who’s being set up as the fall guy. I think he’s the one who takes the calls and sets up all of the appointments.” She grimaced at the word. “And I think he has someone who is doing the actual money laundering for him. Purchasing property, cars, and other things.”
“What were the businesses?”
“Two cleaning companies, one restaurant, and two travel agencies. I’ve been trying to track down where the money winds up—to see who the head honcho is, but it’s almost impossible. When I call the companies, I do get a receptionist. She said she was part of a call center for the companies and would pass along any messages. I asked her to have someone call me but never heard from anyone. And there was a lot more that made me sit up and take notice, such as all of the transactions on the accounts were never for anything related to cleaning or restaurants. The travel agency did have some travel expenses, but because it was opened by Jeremy on the same day as the others, it was still on my radar. Anyway, I was trying to tread carefully, but”—she shuddered—“obviously I left some footprints somewhere. Like with the receptionist.”
Brady pursed his lips. “All of that raises some serious red flags for me. Especially the deposits made late at night and early in the morning. That’s classic human trafficking funds movement.”
“I thought so too. I was trying to get more information before taking everything to law enforcement, only I didn’t have a chance.”
“Someone didn’t like you looking into the transactions.”
“Yes. But I can’t figure how they found out—unless it was the message I left with the receptionist.”
“Did you tell anyone what you were doing?”
“Just a close friend, but she wouldn’t say a word because she’s helping me look into everything.”
His eyes narrowed. His skeptical expression tightened her nerves.
“She wouldn’t.”
“Who’s this friend?”
“The friend I told you about back at the cabin. Heather Gilstrap.”
Again his eyes cut toward her. “What does this friend do for a living?”
“Why?”
“Humor me.”
“She’s . . . a writer.”
He snorted. “For which paper?”
Emily jerked. “You’ve really got to stop doing that.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d be straight with me.”
“She’s an investigative reporter and works for the Columbiana. She’s the friend I tried to call back at the cabin before it blew up. I need to try her again.”
“A reporter? You trusted a reporter?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Of course. We’ve been working on this for weeks.”
“And you think she’s going to keep her mouth shut?”
“She will if she wants the exclusive. We have a deal. She waits on me to complete the investigation before she writes a word.”
He shrugged. “Maybe.”
“No maybe about it. We’ve been friends since fourth grade. I trust her.”
“I hope that doesn’t come back to haunt you.”
“It won’t.”
He grunted. But she didn’t care. She knew her friend.
“Sounds like we need to talk to Jeremy Hightower.”
“I know, but not yet. I just need a little more time to gather more evidence about the transactions, then I can turn everything over to whoever will be in charge and they can run with it.”
“I don’t think you need anything else. It sounds to me like you have enough for a grand jury subpoena or even a search warrant for those records. You probably shouldn’t wait much longer.”
“But I don’t know where the money finally lands. I don’t know who the ringleader is.”
“The feds can figure that out. I’m going to let my boss put some surveillance on Hightower and see what they can find out. Is that okay?”
“If he knows you’re on to him, he’ll disappear. And trust me, he has the money to do it. I mean, he’s not a millionaire or anything—he’s not that high up in the organization—but he’s well paid.”
He gave her a half smile. “Hightower won’t even know they’re there.” She waited while he set up the surveillance. When he hung up, he asked, “What about your boss? Did he know anything?”
“No, I never said anything to him.”
“Why not?”
She rubbed her eyes. “Because when I present something to him, every t has to be crossed and every i has to have its dot. I learned that the hard way a couple of times and I wasn’t about to make that mistake again, especially when we were dealing with millions of dollars. I was also talking to other banks to see if they were having some of the same activity as we were. And they were.”
“Only none of their investigators were kidnapped.”
“As far as I know, I’m it.”
She fell silent until he pulled into the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour all-in-one superstore.
“Wait here, okay? I’ll be two minutes in and out. Derek and Linc are right behind us, watching out for you.”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
True to his word, he returned quickly with two phones—and a pocketknife. “I hate these packages. They’re impossible to get into.”
“I think that’s the point. Shoplifters, you know.”
He shot her a smile and cut into the plastic. “Right.” He gave one phone to her. “Go ahead and program my number in there.” He recited it and she punched it in. “And Linc’s and Derek’s.” He rattled off their numbers.
“Anyone else?”
“Probably, but that’ll do for now.”
Emily dialed Heather’s number. And just like before, it went straight to voice mail. “Heather, ignore the last number I left you and call me on this one as soon as you get this.” She hung up and dialed her voice mail for the phone that had been lost.
“Emily? This is Heather’s mother.” Emily jerked and sat up straight. Brady shot her a concerned look as she listened to the message. “I need you to call me when you can. I’m afraid something terrible has happened to Heather and I need to know if you’ve heard from her. And if you’re safe. The police came by and said they had a 911 call from Heather’s phone. They think she was attacked in the parking garage outside of her work and are looking into it. But no one’s heard from her and she said you were in danger too!” Mrs. Gilstrap’s voice wobbled. “I really need to hear from you.”
She turned the speakerphone on so Brady could hear. Three more of the same type of messages.
Emily dialed Mrs. Gilstrap’s number and got her voice mail. “It’s Emily, Mrs. Gilstrap. I didn’t know about the 911 call. Give me a call back when you can. I’m fine at the moment, but now I’m very worried about Heather too.” She gave her the new number, hung up, and closed her eyes. “Something’s wrong,” she said. “Something’s very, very wrong. What if they got her too? Only she didn’t have someone around to rescue her? The 911 call certainly seems to indicate that, doesn’t it?”
“We can try to find out. Where does she live?”
“In the same apartment complex that I do. She’s on the first floor, I’m on the third on the other side of the same building.”
“Give me the address. We’ll head that way and check out her place first. I’ll call Derek and get him to look into the 911 call.”
Emily gave him directions and then logged in to check her email while Brady spoke with Derek. When he hung up, she glanced at him and frowned. “I have a full inbox, but nothing from Heather. That’s completely out of character for her on so many levels.” She signed out and set the phone in the cup holder. “This isn’t good. Those messages from her mother combined with me not hearing from her? She’s in trouble. Big trouble.”
“Let’s not worry too much until we know something for sure, okay?”
She cut him a glance. “Didn’t you hear her mom’s message? Heather made a 911 call. The police went by their house looking for her. They went by her place and she wasn’t there. None of this is adding up to anything good.”
“I know, but I was trying to be encouraging.”
Chills danced over her skin and she rubbed her arms. “I appreciate it.”
“But it’s not working?”
“Sorry.”
“Okay. Then, I’ll admit, you’re right. It’s not sounding good.”
“Could have kept that to yourself.”
He huffed a short, humorless laugh and fell silent, the tense set of his jaw saying he found the situation anything but amusing. Emily leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. Please, God, let Heather be all right.