Sonia did the math. “Four weeks was about the time they were kidnapped.”
“There were signs of repeated rapes. Bruising, tearing. I have the embryos for DNA testing against possible suspects. You find them, I’ll nail them. Gladly.”
“How’d they know the girls were pregnant?” Sonia thought out loud.
“What? You think they knew?”
“They had to. It makes sense.” Her stomach churned and she swallowed uneasily. “You don’t just kill your meal ticket for no reason. They must have given them pregnancy tests when they arrived.”
“Oh shit, I think you’re right.”
“What evidence could you have?”
“The test sticks. You know-you pee on them and they turn blue if you’re pregnant. When we were processing the scene we found dozens of them tossed into a corner with trash.”
“Do you know exactly how many?”
“Just a sec-” Sonia heard the shuffling of paper. “Thirty-seven.”
“And three were blue?”
“Possibly, I don’t have that here, and the biological evidence would be contaminated at this point. But why kill the pregnant women?”
“Because abortions are more expensive than murder.” Sonia’s voice cracked. “And they wanted to intimidate me.”
“That’s sick.”
“You don’t know the half of it. Let me know if you find anything else.” She hung up and squeezed her eyes shut. Took a deep breath, then another, then another. But the damn tears came out; she couldn’t stop them.
They were so close, but they needed more information. Better information. Jones’s journal was their only hope, but the analysts had only theories, no facts.
But Charlie could help. He knew more than he was saying. He might not know exactly where, but he’d been with Jones for months. He could narrow it down, make an educated guess.
Dean walked in, dressed in a white T-shirt and Dockers. She hadn’t seen him looking so casual. His hair was still wet and he was holstering his Glock. “Ready?” He looked at her and frowned. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
She wiped away the remnant of her tears. “The women who were killed in the warehouse? They were pregnant. I think that’s why they were killed.”
Dean hugged her tightly. There really was nothing to say.
Sonia relished the comfort, breathed in Dean’s fresh-scrubbed scent. She wished she had more time. She took a deep breath and said, “I want you to let Charlie help.”
Dean’s entire body stiffened and he stepped back, his face unreadable. But she felt his anger, and disbelief, vibrating off his rigid body.
Sonia continued, nervous but gaining confidence in her idea. She began to pace, a bad habit but the constant movement helped her focus her thoughts. “I promised him I wouldn’t arrest him if he met with me. He gave us good information. He lived up to his end of the deal. And we now know he didn’t lead the sniper to us, that was Gleason and the bug in the conference room.”
“You don’t know that he wasn’t party to that,” Dean said in a low voice.
“For what reason?” She threw her hands up in the air and stared out the window. Downtown traffic had decreased on the tail end of rush hour. Time was slipping away.
“You had him fired, for one.”
“That was ten years ago.” She turned around, faced Dean. She didn’t like that she couldn’t read him, that he stared at her so dispassionately. Bile rose up her throat as she thought about what might have been. She had thought he understood her, but maybe she had been wrong. Maybe she wasn’t worthy of love or any of the security she’d longed for.
She said, “Charlie could have killed me the other night in my house. Dean, please listen. Please understand. He doesn’t want to kill me, and he’s not working with the bad guys.”
“I cannot believe you are defending him.”
Sonia took a deep breath. Her uncertainty and confusion turned to anger. “I’m not! I’ve never defended him or what he did to me. Dammit, Dean, you didn’t live through it! You weren’t there. I’ve lived with what happened for ten years. Not just what happened to me, but going through the hearings, telling what happened to a panel full of bureaucrats-most of whom had never been in the field, who had no idea what we faced every day. I was cross- examined, I was questioned, I was made to feel guilty even though I had nothing to be guilty about-except naivete and trusting my partner. This righteous anger of yours-don’t take it on for me. There’re more important things at stake. Charlie can help. He was in Jones’s operation for months. He may know something to help us find those women before it’s too late!”
Dean stepped toward her and grabbed her by the arms, pulled her to him so their faces were inches apart. She thought he had been still as a rock, but she felt his muscles vibrating. “I hate him for what he did to you. That man is selfish, he doesn’t consider anyone but himself, never thinks of the consequences or who might be hurt. I can’t forget, it’s eating me up inside. I can’t forget because it happened to
Dean was shaking. Tears rolled down Sonia’s cheeks and she reached for his face. His mouth turned and kissed her hand, then his arms were around her, holding her tight, his lips on her lips, pulling her as close as he could, close to his body, his heart, his soul. Sonia felt every ounce of anger and passion and love pouring out of Dean. It humbled her and empowered her.
She kissed him, her hands around his neck, his hands fisted in her back. He kissed her neck, her ear, got down on his knees and held her, his face pressed against her stomach. His body shook and she dropped to her knees, took his face into her hands.
“Dean-” she whispered.
He stared at her, his eyes red with unshed tears. “I can’t lose you, Sonia.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You won’t.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
Dean sent two agents to bring Charlie Cammarata from the West Sacramento jail to FBI headquarters. Sonia was working with Sam Callahan in the war room putting together a map and search grid. She was certain that the women were being held on property owned by Jones or one of his three primary clients, and Dean concurred. Unfortunately, though the analysts were making great headway with Jones’s journal, they’d been premature in their declaration of knowing where the girls were being held. They did confirm, however, that Jones had paid two thousand U.S. dollars for their abduction.
Sam and Sonia were more than capable of coming up with a game plan. Dean needed to meet one-on-one with the man who had become a wild card-not only in this investigation, but in Dean’s relationship with Sonia. Whether Sonia realized it or not, Cammarata stood between them and the future.
The agents brought the former immigration agent into an interview room. Cammarata took one look at Dean and scowled.
Dean motioned for him to sit.
“How about taking off these handcuffs?”
“Not until we have an agreement,” Dean said. He waited for the agents to leave, then sat down across from Cammarata.
“You can’t hold me. You have nothing on me. No case. I haven’t done anything.”
“Possession of fake identification and social security number, which is a federal crime.”
