Fatal Secrets

Noel continued. “Jones and I disagreed on one key point. He picked men with families because he felt that the implied threat to your ‘loved ones’ would keep his men in line. I, on the other hand, prefer employees who are unattached. Individuals who enjoy the unique benefits of our business. And until now our different philosophies have never been a problem.”

Ignacio retrieved the bug he’d planted earlier from under one of the kitchen chairs and held it up. Noel gestured at the bug and saw the fear in Vega’s eyes. Fear was useful in getting information, but it wasn’t a beneficial emotion. Especially since there wasn’t anything Vega could say or do to save himself.

“Now we’re done with the lies. Answer my questions or your wife will suffer.”

Noel bent over Vega, who futilely fought his restraints. His nose had been broken from the brief scuffle in the bedroom, and dried blood covered his face. Noel had already cut off one earlobe, which continued to slowly drip blood onto the white T-shirt Vega wore. His legs were bare, only boxers covered his ass.

Noel took his knife and stabbed it into Vega’s bare foot so hard that it went all the way through the carpet and padding and into the hardwood floor beneath.

Vega screamed and spouted profanities. No one heard him, though; he lived in the country, a nice five-acre spread in Galt. Probably thought it was a good place to raise kids. Probably thought it was safe.

“Talk now or the next knife goes through wifey’s stomach.”

Kendra Vega screamed against the cloth in her mouth. Noel had told Ling to gag her when her sobs and pleas began to irritate him.

Vega’s teeth clenched and sweat poured off his face. Noel impatiently tapped his own foot. He nodded to Ling, who hit the woman across the head so hard her chair fell over on its side.

“It wasn’t the FBI!” Vega screamed. “Don’t touch her again, you fucker! Don’t touch her!”

“You’re lying-” Noel considered Vega’s words. “If you didn’t talk to the FBI, who did you talk to?”

Vega’s squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m tell you. Please don’t hurt my wife. I’ll begging. Kill me. Don’t hurt her. Please.”

Noel didn’t respond. He waited.

Vega had been in this business long enough to know there would be no survivors. His choice was to die with pain, or without pain. Vega broke down when the silence extended into the third minute.

“Immigration.”

Noel pulled a blackjack from his pocket, the leather-wrapped weight solid and comfortable in his grip. He hit Vega across the cheek. Blood and a tooth fell from his mouth and onto the floor. “You brought ICE down on my operation?” Noel’s voice was a mere whisper.

Vega shook his head, spat blood onto the carpet. “Not you. Just Jones. I swear to God, just Jones.”

“You never mentioned my name?”

“No! No one. I told them I didn’t know any of the players. I just wanted out. I wanted to disappear. She only wanted Jones.”

Of course ICE wanted Jones. Jones knew all the players, knew where all the money came from and where it went. Noel was certain Jones had records, somewhere, of his activities. Jones was a meticulous bastard, he’d have something. By the time the FBI found it, Noel would be out of the country, so he wasn’t hugely worried about incarceration. What bothered him was rebuilding his business. It would cost him an extaordinary amount of money, not to mention rebuilding trust with his clients after something like this.

If Vega was lying, ICE-and probably the FBI at this point-knew him as Noel Marchand. That name was now in their ridiculous law enforcement database. But Jones didn’t know the Devereaux identity he used in the States, and therefore Vega also couldn’t know it.

But there were still other issues to contend with.

“Does ICE know about the pending shipment?”

“No details. Just that it’s going to happen. I didn’t have the time and location. Mr. Jones always tells me right before. I swear. God, please, let my wife go.”

Noel asked, “Who’s your contact?”

“Agent Sonia Knight. I swear, she’s the only one I’ve talked to, and I haven’t spoken to her in days. I’m supposed to call when I have the details about the next exchange, and that’s it. I swear, I never mentioned you or anyone else, she’s just after Jones. God, please, I swear.”

Noel’s blood ran cold. “Sonia Knight.”

“Y-Yes.”

He hadn’t thought about Sonia Knight in some time. He’d known she’d been in the San Francisco office of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, but had not known about her transfer to Sacramento’s regional office. Or was she here solely because of Jones? What did she know? This was a complication Noel couldn’t afford.

“How did you pick Agent Knight?”

“I–I didn’t. I contacted their hotline. Two months ago. She’s the one who met with me. I’ve only met her face-to-face once, talked to her a couple times. I swear to God, please-”

“What does she know?”

“She has no proof. I think … I think she has theories but no proof.”

“And you were willing to give her the proof?”

“Only on Jones! I swear, it was just him. I needed out. I needed out, and he doesn’t let people walk.”

“Of course not.” Noel didn’t like this development. The FBI played by strict rules. Homeland Security, and ICE, had arms that stretched much farther and crossed U.S. borders.

“What exactly did you tell her?”

“I told you!”

“She wouldn’t get you out without something tangible.”

Vega swallowed nervously, shaking, glancing at his wife. Noel stepped to the left and blocked his view. “You will answer me.”

“I confirmed information that she already knew.”

Noel pulled the knife from Vega’s foot and the traitor cried out, his muscles straining as he fought the pain and restraints. He put the knife to Vega’s neck and said, “Specifics.”

“The Omega Shipping Lines is controlled by Jones’s people. That he uses the Sacramento Deep Shipping Channel but moves the merchandise before they reach the Port of Stockton. I confirmed the operatives she knew, but didn’t give her any she didn’t-she had about half of Jones’s people.”

“I want the list that she has.”

“Okay.”

“Now.”

Vega recited names and Noel ordered Ignacio to take them down.

“What else?”

“J-Just that he uses multiple holding facilities. She’d discovered one two years ago and-You must know this, she took the girls.”

Noel didn’t know; Jones had hidden that raid from him. If he weren’t already dead, Noel would kill him far more painfully than the easy way he had, the bastard.

But Noel wasn’t going to tell this cabron that he hadn’t known. “I only confirmed it,” Vega said. “And I gave her two more abandoned facilities-you know, for g-good faith, so she’d get my wife protection.”

“She’s certainly done a good job, hasn’t she?” Noel stepped aside so Vega could see his wife, still tied to the chair, lying on the floor.

“God please God please, please, please,” Vega begged.

“Does she know how we move the women when they get here?”

“No, she assumes trucks, and I didn’t correct her. I was holding back in case she tried to renege on our agreement.”

Vega seemed motivated by Noel’s calm demeanor to keep talking, as if his compliance now would save his life. “She knew about the Omega shipment from China, and they searched Omega ships headed for Stockton, but couldn’t find them. She’s frustrated, and-”

He was rambling and saying nothing important, so Noel cut him off. “Do you know where the Zamora kid is?”

The confusion on Vega’s face made it clear he didn’t know the kid’s name. Noel elaborated. “Last week,