Fatal Secrets

she slid a photo of the river victim in front of him, “this man who tried to kill her. Now, he’s dead.”

Krueger couldn’t resist glancing down at the picture of Kirsten’s attacker. Surprise crossed his expression before he became stony again. Dean was surprised that after hours of interrogation and nothing, five minutes with Sonia had sparked a reaction.

“I have your DNA. I have an eyewitness identification. I have you and I have your knife, and surprise surprise, your knife matches another knife used in another murder.”

Nothing.

“Who do you work for?”

Nothing.

“Where did the girl come from?”

Nothing.

“Who paid you to kill her? To bring her here?”

Nothing, nothing. The man was a statue. Clearly frustrated, Sonia slammed her fist on the table.

“I work for Immigration. You are a German national. You are going to pay for this, no matter what, no matter who you know, who you pay, who wants you alive …” she paused. “That’s it. You talk, you die.”

A blink.

“Oh. I get it. Great. You don’t want to talk to me? Fine. Don’t. You don’t have to say a fucking word.”

She turned to Dean and he knew exactly what she had in mind.

“Agent Hooper,” she said, “can you put a press conference together?”

“Absolutely. When? Who do you want there?”

“As soon as possible. In time for the noon newscast. Radio and television, might as well get print in as well. We have a witness.” She glanced at Krueger, then turned to Dean. “Do you think we can get witness protection?”

“If he gives us information.”

“Can you work on that? I want to prepare for the press conference announcing that we have a witness who is in protective custody. I don’t want to give away his identity …”

“Why not simply say it’s the pilot of the helicopter who was the last to see the minor rape victim before she was attacked?”

“Oh, that’s good! Thanks.”

Krueger spoke with a growl, “You won’t say a word.”

Sonia whirled on him. “Watch me.”

She left the room.

“Bitch,” Krueger said.

Dean looked at him. “If you don’t think she’ll hold that press conference, just wait.”

“She doesn’t scare me.”

“Who does?”

“Someone who should scare you, Agent Hooper.”

Dean left and heard Sonia telling the chief corrections officer to monitor the prisoner’s phone calls.

“We aren’t allowed to eavesdrop without a warrant, and not if he’s talking to his attorney.”

“But you can find out what phone number he dials, right?”

“You’re certain he’s going to call someone?”

“Oh, yes.”

“I can get the number.”

“Who’s his attorney?”

The guard looked it up. “Bernard Cline.”

“Cline? Is he a big defense lawyer or a public defender?”

“Private. Never heard of him before, never seen him in the pen.”

“Thanks.” She gave the guard her contact information. “Just let me know what number he calls and when.”

They walked out into the bright mid-morning sun. Dean said, “You rattled him.”

“Good. Sometimes you just have to shake a lot of trees before you spook a rat.”

“I don’t think I’ve heard that expression before.”

“I just made it up.”

Dean stopped walking, took Sonia’s arm, and pulled her to him. She was surprised, but then got a shy smile on her face and her incredible eyes stared at him seductively.

“I’m really beginning to like you, Agent Knight.”

She licked her lips. “I’m right there with you, Agent Hooper.”

He kissed her. He couldn’t resist those lips. “Let’s solve this case fast so we can do something fun.”

“Are FBI agents allowed to have fun?”

“Twice a year. It’s in the manual.”

“You’re on. What do you do for fun?”

“Is this a trick question?”

“You brought it up. I don’t think I know what ‘fun’ is. The last time I remember having fun was at Disneyland with my family when I was sixteen.”

“That does sound like fun. So, how about Disneyland again?”

Sonia laughed. Dean loved the sound coming from her. Sonia was passionate in everything-in her job, how she laughed, with her family, in his bed. Though technically they hadn’t made love in a bed. Yet.

“Agent Hooper, you just solved the most complex case in human trafficking. Where do you want to go? Disneyland!” She giggled and kissed him. “You’re on.”

Her phone rang and she grabbed it. “I knew he’d call someone.”

She frowned when she answered the phone. “I want to talk to you … Dammit, Charlie, this is … No! Don’t-” She slammed the phone shut. “Fuck!”

“What happened?”

“Charlie! He said he could only decipher part of Jones’s journal and left it in the main public library.”

“That’s a big library. Where?”

“Behind a book on serial killers by Harold Schechter. Let’s go-the library’s right down the street.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Sonia:

I decoded Jones’s journal and discovered that he created a secondary code. I’m sorry, I should have given this to you earlier. I know you’ll figure it out, or know someone who can.

I lied to you the other night. I recognized one of the men who killed Jones. Sun Ling. He’s an American citizen born in Chinatown, San Francisco. He’s ruthless and has been involved in trafficking for as long as I’ve been in the business of stopping it. I don’t know who he works for now, I’ve been out of the game too long.

But he’s not in charge. He’s never in charge.

Please forgive me for everything. I’ll make it up to you. I have a favor to ask. Find Ashley Fox. I know she’s in this book somewhere. Find her and return her to her mother. Please. I’ve worked too long and hard on this to have it mean nothing. She needs to be rescued. I know you’ll save her.

I’ve always loved you, Sonia.

C.C.

Sonia sat alone in the FBI’s task force room, surrounded by humming computers and mountains of paperwork. But all she saw was Charlie’s letter.

She read and reread the letter he’d left with the journal in the main Sacramento Public Library. She was so frustrated she wanted to throttle him. Damn straight he should have given her the journal the other night. The