“Misdemeanor.”
“Possession of a concealed weapon without a CCW.”
“Misdemeanor.”
“Aiding and abetting a known trafficker. Obstruction of justice. Concealing information from a federal law enforcement officer. Resisting arrest. Breaking and entering. I think we’re getting into some pretty good felonies now.”
Cammarata scowled. “What the fuck do you want, Hooper?”
“I’d like you in prison. But I’m giving you an offer.”
“I’ll take my attorney.”
Dean slammed his palm on the table. “That’s not an option.”
“I’m sorry, when was the Constitution repealed?”
“I don’t like you.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
“The only reason you’re here is because Sonia thinks you will help.”
At the mention of Sonia’s name, Cammarata’s eyes shifted. He swallowed uneasily, asked gruffly, “She okay, after today?”
Dean didn’t answer the question. “This is the deal. You help us locate the Chinese women Omega transported into the area, and I let you go.”
“If I knew where they were, I would have told Sonia.”
“Just like you gave her the journal? A day late and a dollar short?”
Cammarata leaned forward. “You don’t know anything about me or Sonia.”
Dean wasn’t going to rise to the bait, but his gut churned. “I know you pretend to care about her, but she’ll be the first you’ll sacrifice if it gets you what you want.”
“What do you know about what I want? My record was stellar.”
“Your record was built on the backs of other agents you used or sacrificed so you could take the credit and glory. You’re right, I don’t understand you. I don’t understand how you could sell your own partner and not even send in backup.”
“We saved dozens of innocent civilians.”
“And you were willing to let Sonia die.” Dean stood. “Sonia has more compassion in her little finger than you have in that huge ego you carry. She seems to have forgiven you. I haven’t. I never will. You have two choices. Agree to help, share all information you know, adhere to all my conditions, and I’ll grant you immunity for your part in this fiasco. Or you can go back to jail and I will have you prosecuted for every last charge the U.S. attorney and I can come up with. But you will
Dean walked out and shut the door. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, took a deep breath. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to work with that bastard. But they had little to no choice at this point. Time was running out, and Sonia’s idea was that somewhere in that man’s memory was information that would lead them to the women. If that was the case, Dean had to use him. Lives were at stake. Sonia’s life was at stake until they stopped this ring of traffickers.
He didn’t have to like it.
Bob Richardson came around the corner. “Did he agree?”
“He’s thinking.”
“I sent out the press release and photos of Ling and Devereaux and am giving a statement as soon as the media gets here. This is a risk.”
“I know. But we have to do it. Devereaux is in hiding and as long as he’s free, Agent Knight is in danger. Not to mention the captive women. I feel like we’re damned if we do, damned if we don’t.”
“I hear you. But you’re right, it’s our only option at this point. You take anyone you need.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Richardson walked away and Dean glanced at his watch. He walked back into the interview room.
Without looking at him, Cammarata said, “I’ll do it. I want it in writing.”
“My word is going to have to be good enough for you.” He uncuffed him, but didn’t let down his guard.
Cammarata looked like he wanted to punch him, but didn’t.
“Show me what you have.”
Sonia tensed when she saw Charlie walk into the conference room. Neither he nor Dean looked happy with the arrangement, and she wasn’t one hundred percent sure they were doing the right thing. But they were stuck. Devereaux, or someone else on his orders, had already brutally murdered three of the women and Sonia had no doubt they would kill others if it would further the criminals’ goals.
Sonia made a quick introduction of Charlie Cammarata as a civilian consultant in this investigation and caught Dean’s eye. She couldn’t read him again, but she’d never forget his brief, powerful emotions in his apartment. Dean Hooper was the personification of the saying “still waters run deep” and Sonia would never doubt his compassion or honor.
“Mr. Cammarata has some knowledge of Xavier Jones’s movements during the weeks prior to his murder and can hopefully help us narrow the search.”
Sam said, “I’m concerned that if we start an open search we’ll spook them and they’ll run.”
“They’ll kill the women first,” Sonia said, glancing at Charlie for confirmation. He nodded. She continued, “Based on information Mr. Cammarata had from Jones, the women are likely being held in a secure facility in the foothills. It needs to be accessible to small planes or helicopters, as well as vehicle traffic. But it also needs to be remote and a place where a civilian wouldn’t stumble onto it by accident.”
Dean crossed the room and stood next to her. “It’s privately owned and most likely on Rio Diablo tribal lands.”
“Rio Diablo?” Sam said. “We can’t go there.”
“That’s exactly why it’s there,” Dean said. He gestured toward a whiteboard where he had columns of numbers under the headings of RIO DIABLO, WEBER, OMEGA, XCJ SECURITY, XCJ CONSULTING. “After we went further back into XCJ Consulting records, we came up with these large transactions. The statute of limitations has expired on this, but it shows a pattern that we were then able to overlay to current payments.” He quickly went through the list. “You can see that payments increased over a twelve-year period, from the time Jones opened his consulting firm. Secondarily, the three clients paid Jones’s security company for personnel and other security measures that are incredibly difficult to track or confirm. The lobbying activities are suspect as well, as the money paid to XCJ is far more than what similar companies would make from the same sort of clients.”
Charlie asked, “So what’s your point? They were paying Jones, probably paying him for protection or as a bribe. Big fucking deal. There is far more at stake here.”
Sonia cringed, realizing that she had thought something similar when she first learned of the racketeering and money laundering investigation. She said, “Charlie, the point is, Agent Hooper has figured out how Jones laundered his trafficking money.”
“He’s dead, so there’s no point. You can’t put him in prison, Eliot Ness,” Charlie said smugly.
Dean ignored Charlie and said, “We now believe that Jones was giving the three entities the money to pay his fees. There was two hundred fifty thousand the first year, three hundred the second year, and it’s gone up exponentially since-last year it topped fifteen million.”
Sam shook his head. “So he receives the money as legitimate income, pays taxes, and it’s clean.”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t believe this,” Charlie rolled his eyes.
Sonia snapped. “I don’t care what you believe, Charlie. You’re missing the big picture. Rio Diablo is a recognized Native American tribe. We have no jurisdiction. We can’t go search their land or issue search warrants. We have to go through their tribal council-”
“Which will take time and cost us in leaks,” Dean finished for her.
“That’s it,” Sonia said. “They’re there, on that land.” She turned to the big map, took a red Sharpie, and traced the boundaries of Rio Diablo land. “That’s about a thousand acres.”
“I’ll go check it out,” Charlie said.
