Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1) (11 page)

BOOK: Chained Guilt (Hidden Guilt (Detective Series) Book 1)
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“Hello?” I called out, gun drawn.

I saw a rat scurry away at the sound of my footsteps. Could this informant have picked a worse place  for this meeting of the minds?  For the predicament I found myself in, I was being as cautious as I could. With gun in hand, whoever was here would at least know I wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Don’t turn around.”

A male voice. I froze.

“And lower your weapon. Now!”

At that moment, I felt the first trickle of fear.  I had made a mistake. In my eagerness to find out what had happened to Miranda, I had stepped into a trap, no backup. I never should have come here alone or at least without telling someone where I was going. I was afraid my life was about to end.

Before I could reply, a sharp retort caused me to hunch down.  A bullet whizzed past my ear.

“What the hell are you doing?” I yelled.

“Just wanted to give you some incentive to make sure you don’t try something stupid. I know how you John Wayne cops are.”

I tried to place the voice, but couldn’t. My back tensed, awaiting the impact of a bullet.

“I used to work for Carter,” the man said. “I was low man in his entourage.  I know why he made your wife disappear. What I don’t have is proof. I can tell you where to dig and what to look for, but you’ll have to do the legwork yourself, super cop. And by the way, I don’t like you. Let’s get that out of the way now. I’m not doing this for you. I hate Carter even more than I hate you.”

“Okay, I’m okay with you not liking me,” I said, turning slightly.

“Don’t do it, Porter, I told you not to turn around. You turn around and I stop talking.”

“Okay,” I said, freezing again. My heart pounded in my chest, waiting for him to tell me about Miranda.

“I did everything I could for Carter. I lied when I needed to lie, covered up what I needed to cover up. Whatever it took. I picked up his damn kids from school, bought flowers for his stuck-up ass of a wife when he forgot his anniversary. First chance that prick had to get rid of me, I was out. I have a family too, ya know. He ain't the only one who needs money. So one day I overheard him say I was replaceable and useless. On top of that, he blackballed me.”

I wondered how long he would continue to whine about his sorry life. I kept my mouth shut.

“Now I can’t get work anywhere, and over a mistake I didn’t make. We’ll see about that; we’ll see how useless I am. I’m going to enjoy watching him rot in jail.”

This guy was obviously bitter and hurt, but it would be interesting to see how much he could help me.

“I get it,” I said. “But why did he let you live if you know something that will get him thrown in jail?”

“Hey, I’ll do the talking here. He threatened my family. I have three kids, Porter. Plus, he doesn’t think I have the balls to do it or the proof. Which, like I told you, I don’t have.”

“We’ll protect your family,” I said. ”Don’t worry about that.”

“Shut up!” he shouted. “You couldn’t protect your own wife. How the hell are you going to protect mine?”

My blood boiled but I tamped it down. “In all fairness, mister, I didn’t know my wife was in danger or I would have, trust me!”

“Playing the I-didn’t-know card? Being a super cop and all, how could you
not
know, with all the digging she’d been doing?”

“She didn’t tell me the details of her investigation. Actually, she didn’t want my help. She wanted to do it alone, so I let her.”

“Well, this is what I know. For starters, Carter has a laptop detailing all of this business hidden in a safe in his wine cellar. He doesn’t know I know about the laptop or where it is. I have a few secrets of my own. I don’t have to tell you that besides being the mayor, his family left him with more wealth than he could ever spend.”

He paused, but I remained standing where I was, waiting impatiently for him to continue. What the hell did he know about Miranda’s disappearance?

“I always felt that if a man had too much money, he’d eventually do something bad with it. Carter went on a trip to Dubai early last year, minus his wife. There were five of us on that trip. By the way, you’ll be glad to know your tax dollars paid for it.” He laughed. “Carter told the media he fronted the bill. He has money tied up in several businesses there, and that was the nature of our trip. While we were there, he met with a man named Abu Da Hussein. Remember that name. He was offered a piece of Hussein’s business to be a partner.”

“What kind of business?” I asked.

“International sex slave trade.”

“What?” My heart skipped a beat. The mayor was involved in trafficking human sex slaves? “Is this what Miranda found out about?”

“I’m getting there,” the man replied. “We’re almost out of time. Let me finish. Several of us advised it was a bad move that would only end in scandal, but Abu made it clear there would be no ties back to Carter. He detailed how his money would be covered and moved from company to company and bank to bank to avoid suspicion. Hundreds of businessmen travel to Dubai every year for this very reason. It’s a popular and lucrative business, Mr. Porter. Carter has even visited the boutiques on more than one occasion. He fit Abu’s investor profile, which is why he approached him with the offer. The five of us who traveled to Dubai are the only ones who know about the deal.  I was never approached, talked to, or asked about it again after that day. Actually, I tried my best to forget it.”

“I doubt that only you five know,” I said. “I mean, there’s too big a chance that someone would talk. It just doesn’t make sense. Why would he take that kind of risk?”

“Why do evil men do what they do, Porter? Pick a public scandal and then ask yourself why the person did it. Why do serial killers kill seemingly innocent people?  Look, I don’t have time to play these games with you. I shouldn’t be here in the first place. And like I said earlier, you can’t protect me or my family. If I went into protective custody, wouldn’t that tell Carter I talked?” He spat. “You know, for a cop, you’re pretty stupid. Aren’t you like some big renowned crime scene expert? They should really make you guys take some sort of aptitude test or something. We’re on his payroll. Money
is
the root of all evil. Surely you’ve heard that before, right super cop?”

I shrugged, still with my back to him. “I guess I’m smart enough not to get involved in something that would eventually ruin my life and my career, especially something so highly immoral and stupid. I have daughters. With that said, it’s hard for me to understand someone who can or does. So you’re saying if I can get to Carter’s laptop, I’ll have everything I need to find my wife?”

“Here we go again with the stupid questions. Yes. Like I told you, I hate Carter for what he did to me. I hope you’re as good as they say you are. So far you haven’t impressed me much. But I’d like to be able to visit Carter in prison one day. Good luck and I hope you find your wife.”

“Any special info?” I asked before he left the building. “Like a good time to try to get this laptop or whether the safe requires a key or a combination? Can you tell me where it is in the wine cellar? Is the cellar locked?”  I stopped spewing questions and waited for a response but heard nothing. “Are you thinking or waiting for me to ask a more intelligent question?”

Nothing. I turned around. He was gone. I ran out the door and around the back of the old feed store, but saw no trace of him.

“Damn it!”

I hurried back to my car, armed for the first time with something I could run with. I decided I couldn’t trust anyone with this information, not even Wilcrest. My next challenge would be getting inside Carter’s wine cellar and putting my hands on the laptop. Maybe I would find out what had happened to my wife. Maybe, just maybe, I would find her still alive.

One thing did trouble me. How had Miranda stumbled onto this? I might never find out, but it did explain why they took her laptop. It didn’t, however, explain why they’d left the note blaming me. Maybe it was to throw me off the trail. It had worked . . . till now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

17

 

 

 

 

I knew the first thing I had to do in order to stack up a case against Carter was get a tap on his phones. But to do that, I’d need a warrant, which would mean I needed probable cause. Not to mention everyone in the department would know. What if Carter had someone working on the inside? I couldn’t risk it. Time to call in a favor from a friend.

“Tracy, it’s Porter.”

“Hey, David. What’s up, sweetie?”

“I need a huge favor, and I’ll owe you big-time. I already know that.”

“Just tell me what you need, honey.”

“I need trace and tap put on a few phone lines.”

“That’s it? Way too easy. Okay then, who’s the future inmate?”

“John Carter.”

“You mean like Mayor John Carter?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, David, I’ll do anything for you. You know that. But this could be big trouble.”

“I know, I know, but I have no choice. You’ve got to trust me on this one. I’m flying solo here. Just sit back and watch the skeletons fly out of the closet. I promise you I’ll be revealing some pretty nasty ones in the next few days.”

“You know I hate you, right, David?”

“Yeah, I know you do.” I smiled. “Let me know when it’s a go. And remember, I’m on my own on this one. I’ll get you a plane ticket somewhere nice when this is over.”

“Yeah, yeah, but this better be good,” she said with a sigh. “This is a ball you can’t afford to swing and miss on.”

I knew I could count on Tracy to get the taps quickly and stay quiet about it. Next, I needed to call the girls and check in on them, as the day had turned into much more than I had originally anticipated. My oldest daughter answered the phone.

“Hilary, I got some info I have to run with. I’m going to be out later than I expected. Let your grandparents know, okay? And keep an eye on your sister for me. Everything okay there?”

“Yeah, Dad. Just do what you promised. I love you.”

I drove downtown and parked on a side street within view of city hall. I sat in my car, waiting, my laptop on the passenger seat. Some time ago, I’d downloaded the software I needed to monitor communications I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to tap into.  Tracy had come through with the tap and hooked me into the system, so now it was just a waiting game. After an hour, I finally got something. Someone from Carter’s office was making an international call. I perked up and listened in.

“Abu, we have a problem.”

It was the mayor! My heart pounded as I adjusted my earpiece, not wanting to miss a syllable.

“Hello, my American friend. We were never to talk on the phone, so why are you calling me?”

Abu’s accent was thick, but his intent was quite clear.

“I wouldn’t have called you unless it was urgent,” Carter said. “A reporter here found out what’s going on. She’s out of the picture now, but I don’t know if she had backups to her report or who she might have told.”

“Friend, you are obviously looking for the wrong person. I mistake you for someone else,” Abu said. “I am bad with names and voices. Unless you travel to Dubai so I might see your face, I am afraid I don’t know who you are. Have a good evening.”

I heard Carter slam down his phone. Less than two minutes passed before he made the first of several calls requesting an emergency meeting with his private staff.  Within an hour, Carter left his office and headed down the street to a popular local bar.  I followed a discreet distance behind.  I had no ears inside, so I just watched and waited, trying to sort out what I’d learned so far. Carter’s phone call to Abu confirmed at least some of what the man had told me at the old feed store. Miranda’s disappearance, it seemed, was a direct result of her report; I was certain of that now, too. With the information I had, including Carter’s partial admission to being involved in Miranda’s disappearance, I felt I could bring Wilcrest in.

An hour later, I learned Carter and his crew had booked flights to Dubai and would be in transit soon. Because I’d flown worldwide speaking at forensics and crime scene seminars, my international flight status and passport information were already in place. Still, I knew I could not simply fly to Dubai without telling my boss.  I would indeed have to bring Wilcrest up to speed.

I grabbed my phone to call Wilcrest.

“Cap? Porter here. I need you to meet me in an hour at the park.” I didn’t wait for a response, but simply hung up.

I drove to the park and waited. I’d changed my mind about getting my hands on Carter’s laptop—for now. He’d probably take it with him anyway. Plus, I needed to be in Dubai when Carter arrived. It’d be much harder to track him otherwise. I needed to stay one step ahead of him. I sat in my car on the east side of the park, waiting for Wilcrest. In no time at all, he pulled his car up behind mine and slid into the passenger seat next to me.

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