Fatal Secrets

Jones made a mistake and brought a boy to his house. He escaped. What do you know about it?”

“He was kept in the garage of the old house, over a mile away. I didn’t even know he’d been brought there until I was told he’d escaped. I looked, couldn’t find him, and Jones was worried about it, and-Oh!”

“Yes?”

“Someone told Agent Knight about the kid. Anonymous.”

“Not you?”

He shook his head. “No, not me, I didn’t tell her, someone else told her. I swear to God.”

“Who knew?”

“A lot of people. Everyone on the inner security team. We all were looking. Donny, Juan, Chuck, Lars, his accountant I think, Chris-”

Ignacio interrupted. “There’s no Chuck on this list.”

“Who’s Chuck?” Noel demanded.

“Ch-Chuck Angelo. Jones’s driver.”

“Why is he not on your list?”

“That list was the people Agent Knight knew about. She didn’t ask about Chuck, so I didn’t tell her. He’s new, three or four months.”

Driver. Noel had made a mistake. He’d assumed Jones drove himself to the restaurant. Jones often met with principals alone-or so Noel had thought. Where was the driver last night? Had Jones’s driver witnessed his assassination? Or had Jones left him home?

“Where can I find Chuck Angelo?”

“He lives on the property. The old caretaker’s house.”

“Is that anywhere near where the kid escaped?”

“I–I-I guess. Walking distance.”

“Is there anything you have neglected to tell me? Anything?

“No. I swear.”

“If you lie to me, I will know. And your wife will suffer greatly. Perhaps you’d like to see your child carved out of her stomach?”

“Please, please, I told you everything Knight knows, everything I know. I don’t even know where the shipment went after it arrived in Stockton. I don’t know, I don’t know where they are, I don’t know where the meeting is, please, please let us go. I’ll disappear, I’m so sorry.”

Noel said to Ling, “I think we’re done here.”

Ling aimed his gun at Kendra Vega’s head and shot her three times.

Vega screamed. “No! NO! You bastard! You prom ised!”

“I said she wouldn’t suffer. I didn’t say you wouldn’t.”

Noel took the knife he had in his hand and cut out Vega’s tongue. Vega’s screams of agony gave Noel neither pleasure nor remorse. Murder as punishment was simply a job that needed to be done; Noel didn’t dwell on it. He stabbed the blade into Vega’s stomach up to the hilt. He’d live ten minutes. Maybe a little more, or a little less. Though Noel was certain he wouldn’t survive, he wasn’t about to take chances.

“Ignacio, stay for a while. If he’s not dead in twenty minutes, put a bullet in his head.”

Noel left with Mr. Ling. The sky was just on the lighter side of night. “Will he be alive at sunrise?” he asked.

“What time is sunrise?”

“Four fifty-eight A.M.”

“No,” Ling said.

“Do you want to wager?”

“A hundred?”

“You’re on,” Noel said.

They got into the rental car and Noel said, “Find everything you can on this Chuck Angelo. He may be a mole. And I want renewed efforts put into tracking down the boy. If he’s in federal custody, we have a problem.” Two kids-the Zamora boy and the girl Tobias failed to kill and dispose of properly-were the greatest threats to his freedom. “I want that boy and the woman in the hospital dead.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I have to take care of Agent Sonia Knight.”

“I agree.”

“She’s not going to be easy to take out.” His anger had been simmering from the minute he heard Sonia’s name. She had been a pain in the ass since the minute he laid eyes on her. He should have killed her years ago when he’d had the chance. “Mr. Ling, when we get back to the hotel, pull together whatever information we have on her. Address, adopted family, friends, habits-anything you can find.”

“Sir, if I may?”

It’s what Ling always said when he had an idea Noel wasn’t going to like.

“Go ahead.”

“A sniper’s bullet is the best way.”

Noel knew he was right. But it wasn’t what Sonia Knight knew about this upcoming transfer, it was her activities in general that negatively impacted his business. He wasn’t going to give up the entire western states because one bitch had made it her personal vendetta to stop people like him. In actuality, Noel offered poor girls a chance to get out of the farms where they were already virtually slaves by being born into the decrepit, poor villages. He removed them from the squalor they lived in and employed them. Sex was a viable commodity. They provided a good fucking-or whatever the client wanted-and Noel and those he sold to made sure they had a place to live, food to eat, and medical care. Hell, most of the girls he handled had never seen a doctor before Noel took them for brothels around the world.

Sonia Knight would never be able to stop this profitable business. It was getting stronger every day. But she could hurt his bottom line, and Noel took that very seriously.

Especially coming from her. He wanted to see her face when he killed her. He wanted her to know who he was before she went to her grave. He wanted to make her suffer for every dollar she’d cost him over the years.

Of course, he didn’t want to be caught. He was in his prime, his business thriving especially after he took over when his father died.

“Very well, Mr. Ling. We’ll do it your way.” He sighed. “Too bad I can’t take her back to Mexico and make her work off all the money she’s cost us-on her back.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The sun had barely crept over the Sierra Nevada Mountains far east of the Sacramento River when the Sheriff’s Department underwater rescue team dove to recover the first body.

Dean crossed the parking lot of the closed restaurant. One deputy muttered, “We have Sac P.D., Sac Sheriff’s, Immigration, and now the FBI.”

Not being based in Sacramento meant that Dean was not only an outsider because he was a fed, but also because he didn’t know any of the local cops. He should have brought Callahan with him, but he’d left him in charge at Jones’s house. Or, rather, the cabin that Cammarata had been staying in. Until there was confirmation as to whether Jones was in fact dead, Dean couldn’t enter his house without permission. And he didn’t see Jones’s attorney giving it.

Dean walked to the back of the restaurant and spotted Sonia. Maybe it was just seeing a familiar face, or maybe it was because she was so beautiful and regal that Dean stopped for a moment just to watch her.

She stood straight, legs slightly apart, hands behind her back, in the middle of the pier in a short-sleeved black T-shirt with police ice in large white block letters. Her hair was up and looked more red than brown in the early-morning light. Her tan face glowed from the morning chill, colder here on the river.

Her call to him had been brief. He had a million questions for her but couldn’t ask until he’d swept