Midnight Crossing (25 page)

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Authors: Tricia Fields

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #United States, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Police Procedurals, #Women Sleuths

BOOK: Midnight Crossing
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Josie pursed her lips and nodded. “Okay. I get that. Then I will talk to the prosecutor, and I will let him know that you cooperated fully in this conversation. That you gave the information freely. That will definitely hold weight with Mr. Holder. Deal?”

He nodded his head. “And my own cell until I get out of here. I don’t want to share a cell with someone anymore.”

“I’ll talk to the sheriff.”

He narrowed his eyes, looking at Josie like he wasn’t sure if he could trust her. “We were going to Albuquerque. In the South Valley. Have you been there?”

“I know the area vaguely.”

“There’s two blocks they call the Maid’s Quarters. It’s where the apartments are for the girls that work in the hotels.”

“You have an address?”

He nodded and Josie slid a pad of paper over to him with a pen on top. He held his hands up with the handcuffs and she shook her head. “You can write with those on. You keep telling the truth and you might get those off one day. But you have some work to do first.”

He picked up the pen with his right hand and rested his left hand on top while he scrawled out the address.

“Write the name of the contact person on there too.”

He looked at her for a moment. “It’s not really a name. They call him Big Ben.”

She motioned toward the paper. “Write it down. Just make sure what you’re giving me is accurate.”

He nodded again. “Totally accurate. I swear.”

“Now the phone number.”

She watched as he wrote down a number.

“So how do I connect with Big Ben?”

“Nobody calls. You send a text message that says the word
ready
with a question mark. He texts back for the date and time and you send it to him. He says okay. That’s it.”

“Then what?”

“You go to that address. It’s like a crappy apartment building. Go to the office on the first floor and ask for him by that name. You tell him you have a load and he says meet me in back. That’s it.”

“Then what?”

“You drive behind the apartment building and unload the women.”

Like cattle
, she thought. “You’ve done this before?”

“I made a few trips.”

Josie nodded and decided to address that issue at a later time.

“It’s not hard. They aren’t really very careful. It’s not like there’s a secret handshake or whatever. You just give him the women and their fake passports and IDs, and he gives you an envelope with a check in it.”

“Who’s the check made out to?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I wasn’t allowed to look.”

“Who’s your boss?”

“I told you. I don’t know. She never said.”

“Will this Big Ben be expecting the delivery at any certain time?”

“Not really. It’s not like we’re the only ones delivering girls to him. And he knows they’re coming from far away. That’s why you text him when you’re ready to deliver.”

“Won’t he question when someone other than you delivers the girls?”

Josh gave her a dismissive sneer. “He doesn’t care who delivers. As long as you send the text that says
ready
, he’ll know you’re legit.”

“You don’t think he’ll be wary about the women from West Texas being found? It’ll be on the news,” she said.

“Seriously? Big Ben lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico. These women in West Texas won’t make headlines out of Arroyo County.”

“Okay,” Josie said. “I think we’re done here.”

She stood and he looked up at her. “I don’t want to go back into that jail cell.”

“You should have thought of that a long time ago.”

“You said you’d get me my own cell! Since I helped you here?” he asked, suddenly sounding desperate.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Josie walked out into the hallway and found Roy standing just outside the door.

“You get what you needed?” he asked.

“I did. I seriously appreciate this.”

Roy waved it off. “Nail that woman and we’re even.”

“Deal.” Josie started off and turned back. “Also. Josh would like a private cell, since he’s been such a good prisoner.”

He rolled his eyes. “That’s my top priority.”

*   *   *

Josie was glad to see the parking lot as empty as when she’d arrived. As she pulled out of the lot she called Dell. “What do you think about driving to Albuquerque in the morning? Leave about five o’clock?”

“You bet. You driving that little pickup?”

She smiled. Dell was cheap about everything except his truck. “How about you drive and we take your limo?”

“Deal. I’ll pick you up at five sharp.”

*   *   *

Josie stopped in front of Manny’s Motel and saw the light on in the room where her mom was staying. She felt a wave of guilt at the lack of time she’d spent with her since she’d arrived. Josie knocked on the door, and her mom opened it wearing a bathrobe, reading glasses perched halfway down her nose and a paperback book in hand.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in!”

“Are you headed for bed?” Josie asked.

“Already there. But I can still visit. Come on in.”

Josie shut the door behind her and sat in a wicker chair beside the bed. The covers were rumpled up on the side next to the lamp where her mom had been reading. The homey sight made her ache for something more than they had.

She wanted to call her mom when she had a lousy day, and feel better when she hung up. She wanted her mom to be able to call when something good happened in her life. And she wanted her mom to know that she loved her, but she had no idea how.

“I’ve been listening to the radio. Sounds like you got a heap of trouble,” she said.

Josie sighed. “It’s a mess.”

“What’s it all about?”

“The mayor thinks I accused someone of something that isn’t true.”

“Isn’t that what police do? You arrest people. Then you let the judge and jury decide if they’re innocent or guilty?”

Josie made a face. “Sort of. But you can’t arrest someone without probable cause. You need solid evidence that’ll convince the prosecutor that the person committed a crime.”

“Did you have solid evidence?”

Her mom had settled back down under the quilt and was leaning against the headboard, seeming keenly interested. Josie could imagine her mom having a similar conversation with her dad when he was a young cop, still imagining he could make a difference in the world.

“I think it’s solid. But some of the information is coming from pretty sketchy people. That’s the problem. And I’m accusing someone who is considered to be an upstanding community member.”

Her mom hummed. “That’s a tough one. A reliable witness thing.”

Josie smiled. “Exactly.”

“You just need more evidence.”

“That’s partly why I’m here. I’m going out of town tomorrow. I’m trying to track down some evidence that might clear this mess up.”

“So you’re telling me you won’t be around tomorrow,” she said.

“That’s pretty much it,” Josie said.

“You know, I was a cop’s wife. I get all this. I remember what it was like when your dad missed suppers and birthdays. It wasn’t like he wanted to. It’s just what had to be done.”

“I appreciate that,” Josie said.

Her mom held up her book, suddenly looking uncomfortable with the personal nature of the conversation. “Anyway, I got a good book to finish tomorrow.”

Josie stood, briefly contemplated giving her mom a hug, but just as quickly decided it would be too awkward and walked to the door. “I’ll be on the road about sixteen hours tomorrow, up and back. I’ll call you along the way.”

Her mom waved her book in the air. “Good enough. Go catch those bad guys.”

*   *   *

Because the police department was off-limits, Josie drove home and set up shop with her laptop at the kitchen table, where she searched the Internet and found phone numbers for the Albuquerque Police Department. She finally connected with an officer in the Criminal Investigations Bureau, who then put her in touch with an officer named Townie Davison, who was very interested in the information she had to share. He said that he’d been investigating the Maid’s Quarters for several months and would gladly trade information.

“Based on our intel, it’s a growing organization. Most of the trafficking crimes in Albuquerque are small-scale. Some guy who decides he can make more money selling his girlfriend than he can selling drugs and guns.”

“Jeez,” she said, resting her forehead in her hand.

“No joke. They feed on the most vulnerable. They get girls, and some guys too, down on their luck, needing help, and they exploit them.”

“The sex trade?” she said.

“Sure. Some sleezy guy connects with a runaway girl. He gets her hooked on cheap heroin. After that, she’ll work for dope, food, and a place to sleep.”

Josie imagined Isabella and the other three women, and wondered if that might have been their fate.

“Easy money,” he said.

Josie explained the case she’d been working. She gave Townie the address and the name, Big Ben, and he laughed and yelled at someone in the background.

“Chief Gray, you just made my day. New Mexico thanks you and the great state of Texas.”

They spent the next several hours planning Josie’s venture into the Maid’s Quarters in downtown Albuquerque.

*   *   *

When Dell picked Josie up the next morning at five, she’d only had two hours of sleep. She dressed for her role that day, wearing ripped jeans and a faded red IU sweatshirt. She ate a granola bar once they were on the road, then told Dell roughly what they’d be doing that day. Outside of El Paso, she finally gave in and fell asleep for the next four hours until they reached the outskirts of Albuquerque. She felt a tap on her arm and pulled herself up from the corner of the window where she’d been sound asleep, struggling past the bizarre dreams that had pursued her during the long drive north.

She tried to focus on Dell’s voice. “Wake up. Let’s get you some caffeine.”

She shook her head, trying to clear the fog. Dell pulled off the interstate and filled his gas tank, buying them both a Coke and a bag of pretzels, while she walked around the truck and mentally woke herself up.

Back in the truck, she gave him directions to downtown Albuquerque, and they spent the next twenty minutes navigating through narrower and narrower streets, down one-ways and around construction barrels, until they found the address that Townie had provided. Josie and Dell took the steps to a brownstone apartment building and knocked on apartment number nine.

A man with red hair, freckles, and bright green eyes answered the door. He motioned them inside and smiled at Josie as if he already knew her. Without asking her name he said, “You have any trouble getting here?”

“Nope. Directions were good.”

“Okay. I got four women ready to ride with you. Let’s get you set up.”

“You’re Townie?” she said.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry. I’ve already seen pictures of you. Googled you. Saw the press about you and the Medrano Cartel. It’s a wonder you’re still breathing.”

Josie smiled but didn’t respond, hoping to keep the conversation focused on the current drama. She introduced Dell as a department consultant and driver.

“Dell will be in the parking lot, waiting in his truck, until we’re done today.”

“Works for me. You said Big Ben doesn’t expect a certain person?”

“According to my source, all we do is send the text that says,
ready?
Then we send the time we’ll be there.”

“Let’s do it. You’ve got the number, right?”

Josie nodded and pulled the piece of paper out of her jeans pocket. She texted the number and a few minutes later her phone buzzed.

The message read,
Date and time
.

She gave Townie a thumbs-up and asked what time.

He glanced at his watch. “Tell him today at three.”

Josie texted back and less than a minute later she received the okay response that Josh had told her to expect.

Townie laughed and gave her a high-five. “That gives us about an hour and a half. Let’s get you set up.”

She looked around the apartment and was surprised by how normal it appeared.

“I’d expected a flophouse,” she said.

He laughed, a short choppy sound that made her smile back. “A friend of mine lives here. She’s also a cop. I didn’t want to chance taking you into the station. And we had to get you wired up somewhere.”

They had agreed on the phone that, since Josie was more familiar with the trip from Guatemala and the arrangements that had been made by locals from Texas, it would make more sense for her to actually deliver the undercover females to the drop-off point. Given the distance between Artemis and Albuquerque, there was no worry about small-town news coverage of the human trafficking case reaching Albuquerque and blowing her cover. However, she hadn’t gone into the mayor’s backstory with Townie, nor the fact that she’d been stripped of her gun and badge. She’d deemed that information irrelevant, and hoped like hell she hadn’t made a terrible decision.

A female walked out of a doorway wiping her hands on a towel and smiled at Josie. “I’m Officer Tammy White. I work homicide for the city.” She put a hand up to her mouth like she was shielding the words from Townie. “And I date him on the side.”

“Ah,” Josie said, not sure yet what to make of them.

“I’m here to help you get the wire on. Townie’s an old-fashioned guy. He figured you’d prefer having a female help you get your wire set up. Come on in the kitchen. I have it laid out.”

Josie followed her into the kitchen, where a black device that looked similar to a pen cap lid with a clip on it sat on the counter.

“Obviously there’s no wire anymore. We still call it setting up a wire because it’s easier than telling you we’re connecting a digital voice recorder.” Tammy smiled and turned to look at Josie. “You ever work undercover before?”

“No. Not like this.”

“Nothing to worry about. This is just a voice recorder. It works best if you slip it right inside your bra and clip it. It’s flat enough you can’t see it through your clothes. And it’s less obvious than some of the sunglasses or jewelry recorders people wear.”

Josie lifted her sweatshirt up and the woman helped her clip the voice recorder to the edge of her bra.

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