Midwife Cover - Cassie Miles (18 page)

In Durango, they drove the same route as Dr. Smith. It appeared that he was just taking care of errands, making stops at a hardware store and a grocery store. After they grabbed a couple of chicken sandwiches at a drive-through, they returned on the same road they drove into town.

About five miles from Kirkland, they exited onto a two-lane road into a pine forest. Studying the GPS map, Brady noted there were few turnoffs on the road. He considered getting out of the truck and walking closer to where Smith made his stop but decided to see where they were headed first.

“At the next fork in the road, go right. Smith stopped at one-point-three miles, but we’re going to drive past.” He remembered what happened when he attempted the same maneuver at the Lost Lamb. “No stopping. I doubt Smith would recognize our truck, but it’s better if we’re not seen.”

“Got it,” she said.

“Tell me when we’ve gone a mile.”

She nodded and sat up a little straighter behind the steering wheel. A sweeping curve in the road led to a more rugged area where the trees blended with jagged rock formations.

“It’s a mile,” she said. “One-point-one.”

In the flash of their headlights, he saw the multilevel house with a deck that jutted into the forest like the prow of a boat. The modern architecture and redwood color seemed to grow organically from the forested surroundings. As they got closer, moonlight illuminated a very large house. Smith’s SUV was parked in front.

It wasn’t exactly clear what Dr. Smith did for the human trafficking organization, but he was obviously well-paid.

Chapter Sixteen

Dodging on foot through the moonlit forest, Petra was glad she’d taken the time to dress appropriately. Her sweatshirt protected her from low-hanging branches, and her hiking boots allowed her to move quickly, keeping pace with Brady’s longer stride.

They’d parked the truck in the driveway of a vacant house that was about a mile and a half down the road from Smith’s sprawling home. She’d gotten only a glimpse of the place as she drove past, but she was impressed.

Brady turned to check on her progress. Even though they were still quite a distance from Smith’s house, he kept his voice low. “Are you doing all right?”

“Yoga isn’t my only exercise. I jog a couple of miles, twice a week.” Her heart was pumping harder than usual, but it wasn’t because of the exercise. She was excited. Brady might go chasing after bad guys all the time, but she didn’t. “What do you expect to find here?”

“I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even know for sure that this is Smith’s house. The mailbox had numbers but no name.”

“We don’t even know for sure that Smith is his name. The first time he introduced himself, I almost laughed. Smith is such an obvious alias.”

Brady leaned his back against a tree trunk. In his dark cargo pants and black jacket with his Beretta clipped to his hip, he looked like he could handle anything. “Finding this place is a break for us. There’s a lot we can learn if we don’t get caught.”

“We won’t.” She pumped up her positive thinking to counteract his negative attitude. “We’re going to get close to the house and observe. We will find evidence. Then, we’ll go back to the truck.”

He rubbed his hand across his T-shirt. “I should be wearing my bulletproof vest. And I should have brought one for you, too.”

“When you’re undercover, you can’t be prepared for everything.”

“Risky,” he muttered.

“Stop it.” She grabbed his arm and gave a little shake. “No negative vibes. This is going to turn out well. I promise you it will.”

He ducked his head and gave her a light kiss on the cheek. “You’re right.”

The easy intimacy startled her, but she liked it. “We’re going to get these guys.”

Pushing away from the tree, he started climbing the incline at the side of the road, and she followed. The incline wasn’t steep, but the sliver of a moon gave off very little light. The footing was difficult, and she stumbled more than once.

At the top of the ridge, Brady found a path that was wide enough to allow them to walk side by side. She hoped he knew where he was going. It was easy to get lost in the mountains in the dark.

Quietly, she said, “I had the impression that Smith hasn’t been working at Lost Lamb for very long.”

“Same here. Margaret said something about how things were easier now that they had a doctor.”

“How is he affording this house? Francine is tight with the purse strings, and she wouldn’t pay him a lot to deliver babies.” She glanced at Brady. The moonlight slanted across his high forehead and strong jaw. “What do you think is going on?”

“Smith is more than a baby doc. His skill might have something to do with the surrogates.” He turned toward the right. “We’re close. It’s this way.”

“How can you tell?”

“My unfailing sense of direction,” he said.

“You must have been a star in Boy Scouts.”

He held up an electronic device. “Or it might be this handy-dandy GPS unit. I programmed the address in here.”

She hadn’t known that the GPS unit could give walking directions. His little gadget was probably a super-FBI version.

At the top of the hill, he paused and pointed. They were looking down at the multilevel, modern house. The top floor, closest to where they were standing, had one wall that was all windows—perfect for them to peek inside. Unfortunately, the room was dark. The only lights were on the middle floor where there were a lot of windows and a wide deck.

Brady hunkered down beside a chunky granite rock, and she sat beside him. Excitement rushed through her. This was a real investigation, the kind of thing she’d envisioned herself doing if she’d become an FBI agent. She wished that she had a gun, but Brady was already beating himself up because they didn’t have his-and-hers bulletproof vests, so she decided not to mention the lack. “Should we get closer?”

“Not unless there’s something to see.”

That was logical and, at the same time, didn’t make sense. “How do we know if—”

“Sit quietly and observe. We want to figure out how many people are in that house.”

“Like guards?”

“It’s possible, especially if the house belongs to one of the bosses. And it’s likely that the area is protected by motion detectors or mini-cams.”

“How can you tell?”

“If we move closer, I can spot the surveillance equipment, but we’ll probably set off the alarms.” He dug into one of the pockets in his cargo pants and took out a set of binoculars that he handed to her. “These are regular and night vision.”

She held them up to her eyes. Using the infrared vision, she scanned the area. Details became clear. “I can see everything.”

“That’s the point.”

“No guards.”

“Keep looking.” He sat on the ground beside her and draped his arm loosely around her shoulder. “They don’t know we’re here. We’ve got time.”

Peering through the windows on the middle floor, she wasn’t able to see anyone or anything unusual. There was no one outside. The landscaping and the architecture were, however, spectacular. Even the firewood was stacked artistically. Clear water bubbled through a fountain shaped like a pagoda in a rock garden.

After a while, she got tired of searching and not finding. She leaned back, fitting herself into a comfortable position against Brady’s chest. Her ear pressed against his T-shirt and she listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart. The cool of the night contrasted the warmth of his body. She should have been relaxed and cozy, but she was too amped about being on what amounted to a stakeout.

His embrace felt so very wonderful. Only a few hours ago, she’d been in his bed.
And she’d turned him down.
Was she crazy? Maybe Brady wasn’t meant for a long-term relationship with her, but there was no way she’d refuse to make love to him again.

His hand tightened on her arm. “Something’s happening at the house.”

The lights in the top level went on. Through the windows, they could see into what appeared to be a huge bedroom with an equally huge bed, a giant television and an exercise bike. Using the binoculars, she spotted Smith’s bald, white head. “It’s him. Alone.”

Instead of a pristine lab coat, he was wearing shorts and a T-shirt. He climbed onto the stationary bike and used a remote to turn on the television news.

“What do you think?” she asked with a grin. “Should we call out the National Guard?”

“This is way too normal. He’s not even watching cable.”

“Even bad guys have their favorite news anchors.”

“Back to the truck.” He stood and held out a hand to help her up. “There’s one other place that the GPS tracker showed him stopping. It’s between here and Lost Lamb.”

She bounced to her feet and handed the binoculars to him. “We certainly don’t want to miss one thrill-packed minute of Dr. Smith’s day.”

“Welcome to the wonderful world of investigation,” he said. “There’s a lot of watching and waiting and being bored to death. Then, blam.”

“Blam?”

“Like the night we met, when we found baby Miguel and his mother.”

She remembered it well, especially the sight of him diving through the air, risking his life to save Miguel and his mom. “That was maybe too much excitement.”

As they headed back toward the place where they’d left the truck, she kept her eyes down, watching her footing on the rugged terrain. Even though the night was quiet and the road was utterly deserted, she had the feeling that they weren’t alone. She heard nothing but the wind through the tree branches. She saw no one else but felt a prickling between her shoulder blades as though someone was watching.

Descending the hillside, she slipped. Although she caught herself before she went sprawling, she went down on one knee. Facing the opposite hill, she looked up and saw the distant silhouette of a figure on horseback.

Brady stepped in front of her, cutting off her vision. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

When she looked around him, the horse was gone. Nothing there. She’d probably imagined it.

* * *

E
VEN THOUGH THEY HAD
no evidence that pointed directly toward an arrest, Brady wasn’t disappointed with their progress thus far. When he turned the address of Smith’s house to the FBI techs and researchers, he knew they’d come up with some interesting connections. The sheer luxury of that house was an indication that serious money was involved.

The route leading to Smith’s last stop was fairly desolate. Unlike the forested approach to the house, they drove through open terrain with barbed wire fencing. As far as he could see in the night, the land was covered with dry brush and low scrub. If they got too close, their truck would be noticed.

“It’s about two miles from here,” he said. “Find a place to pull over and park.”

“There’s nowhere to hide the truck.”

He pointed. “There’s a turnoff.”

She drove down a short dirt road to a metal gate fastened with a chain and a lock. He figured this was a field for grazing cattle, but there were no animals in sight. “Back around so we’re facing nose out.”

“Right,” she said, “so we can make a quick getaway.”

He hoped a speedy escape wouldn’t be necessary. Finding no evidence was preferable to finding danger. “We’ll walk from here.”

With the truck parked, she climbed out from behind the driver’s seat. “I wish I’d eaten more dinner. Did you happen to bring any water?”

“Always prepared.” He kept a six-pack of bottled water in the back of the truck for use in just this sort of occasion. He climbed into the bed and grabbed one for her and one for himself.

After they climbed through the barbed-wire fence and started walking in a southeast direction, he considered the preparations he’d made for tonight and admitted to himself that he’d fallen short. At the very least, Petra should be wearing a bulletproof vest. She should also be armed with two extra clips of ammo.

It wasn’t like him to be haphazard. Clearly, he was distracted by her. Half his brain was thinking about what was going to happen later tonight, when they were alone in the house. He concentrated on bringing his focus back to the investigation.

Keeping his voice low, he said, “This is another good dropoff point for the traffickers. There’s nothing around. No witnesses.”

“What happens to these people when they’re dropped off?”

“It’s like any other type of distribution,” he said. “They’re delivered to the highest bidder. The lucky ones are used as low-paid or nonpaid field-workers or given jobs in factories.”

“Why don’t they escape?”

“Fear. Not only are they scared of what the traffickers will do to them, but they’re also afraid of being picked up by police and tossed in jail.”

“No hope,” she said.

In the distance, probably a mile away, he saw lights and the shapes of a couple of barn-size buildings. “We should be quiet from here on. Stay low.”

He jogged in a crouch toward the lights. They were bright. Floodlights. The compound was lit like a prison yard. What the hell was going on here? He wouldn’t be surprised to encounter armed guards, and there could well be surveillance cameras as well. He and Petra needed to stay invisible.

A barbed wire fence marked off the property line about a hundred yards from a barn, a trailer and a low, flat-roofed building. He signaled Petra to halt and they crouched beside a fence post. There were only a few scraggly trees and the ruins of a former ranch house that looked like it had been destroyed in a fire. Five vehicles were parked outside the barn; one was a motor home.

Petra whispered, “Should we take license numbers?”

“No need.” He took out his binoculars. “Tomorrow, I’ll make sure the FBI has this compound under aerial surveillance.”

The barn door was closed and latched. Using the binoculars, he scanned the side entrance. That door was also closed. Anything could be happening inside the barn. It was big enough to hide a semi. Lights inside the trailer were lit, and Brady figured it was being used for living quarters.

He couldn’t guess at the function of the low building that looked like it had been constructed recently. There was only one window. The center entrance was a double-wide door.