Fatal Secrets

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.”

“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“I’m sorry, when was the Constitution repealed?”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 never get out of prison. Those are your choices. You have five minutes.”

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.

“No,” Sonia and Dean said simultaneously.

“We go in smart,” Dean said. “No mavericks in this. If we’re going to get a conviction we need to do it right.”

“What about the girls?” Charlie said. “You fucking Fibbies only care about your clearance rate. Do you even care about the fate of those China dolls?”

“Charlie!” Sonia said and crossed the room. “Don’t even go there. If we don’t catch the people responsible, they’ll keep doing it, and they’ll be smarter next time. The only reason we’re this close to nailing them is because ICE and the FBI are working together and sharing information. Something I know you have a hard time with. Either you help us or you can go back to jail.”

“So you drank the Kool-Aid,” Charlie mumbled.

“I don’t know you,” Sonia whispered, deep sadness spreading through her chest.

Charlie looked stunned. “Sonia, I am trying to help, which is why I need to go in alone. I know that area. I’ve been on Rio Diablo land. Jones went up there every week. He’s tight with the three leaders of the tribe. There’re only a dozen people in the tribe, I didn’t think much of it, but what a scam. They’re building a casino, great location, too.”

“Even if I trusted you, you’re not going up there alone. But if you really want to help, go over to that map”-she pointed-“and identify where those girls are being held.”

He wanted to say something; she saw it in his face, in the way his mouth opened slightly, then snapped shut. He walked past her and she breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed her forehead.

When she looked up, Dean was watching her. He gave her a half-smile and nod, and her headache faded to the background. He held her gaze for a moment, then followed Charlie to the map.

“This is all pretty heavily forested,” Charlie said.

Sam stood next to him. “I know this area fairly well. Not Rio Diablo land, but the Sierra Nevadas. This was all mining country, from Nevada County up north, down to past Calaveras. Gold, silver, copper. There’re roads all over … here, here, here.” He highlighted them. “All those can handle a good-sized truck.”

“Where’s the casino going?” Charlie asked.

Dean pointed to a green pin. “It’s almost complete. Supposed to open next spring.”

“I don’t see planes coming in and out of here,” Charlie said. They don’t need much room, but it’s hard to see if there’s a flat enough area to build a runway.”

“Can they land on a road?” Sam asked. “Here’s a straight stretch on Salamander Gulch Road, and the road ends here.”

“Definitely possible, especially if the road is in good shape,” Charlie said. “Though they’ll land just about anywhere as long as they have the clearance.”

“International private plane travel is heavily restricted and regulated,” Sonia said.

Charlie dismissed her comment with a wave. “They cross the border any number of places-no way we can cover every mile of border twenty-four/seven. They’re damn geniuses when money is involved, and they take physical risks on land, air, and sea. Low-flying planes, commercial vehicles, boats of all sizes. Jones flew into Mexico last week and it was a snap. No questions.”

“How?” Dean asked sharply.

Charlie didn’t want to tell him, more out of spite than to keep a secret, but he relented. “He has two planes. They flew into a small private airstrip near the border in the middle of the desert, drove through showing fake I.D. and passports, and picked up a plane in Alicia.”

“What was he doing in Mexico?” Dean asked.

“That has nothing to do with this.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

Charlie turned to the map and ignored Dean. Sonia put a hand on Dean’s arm, his muscles hard and tight. She squeezed.

Charlie said, “They need to be close. They won’t require much space, but they’ll need a place to wash.”

“Why?” Sam asked.

“Would you buy a woman who’d been sleeping in her clothes for a week and walking around in her own waste?”

“Charlie,” Sonia said sharply. “We’re on the same team right now, aren’t we?”

He glared at her, but lost his venom. Sonia was growing weary of the game.

“So water source,” Sonia said, “and shelter. Secure, so they don’t have any runners. Where no matter how loud the women were, no one would hear. Though they would be quiet, out of fear.”

Trace Anderson came into the room. “I got her in your interview room.” He stared at Charlie, stunned.

Sonia said simply, “He’s helping us.”

“I’ll be right there,” Dean said. To Sonia he said, “Do you want to interview Christopoulis with me?”

“Who?” Charlie interrupted.

“I don’t believe this is your business,” Dean said coolly.

“He said ‘her.’ There’s only one female Christopoulis. The queen bitch, Victoria.”

“You know her?” Sonia said.

“In my other identity as Chuck Angelo. Let me do this.”

“Hell no,” Dean said.

“I can bluff her. I know some of her dirty secrets-Jones shared them after I met her.” Charlie’s eyes widened in excitement and for a split second, Sonia saw the old Charlie, the younger, idealistic Charlie who had once been a good agent and a valuable mentor. “I’ll tell her Jones was turning state’s evidence. It’ll freak her out. She’ll turn. I promise, if you let me do it, she’ll turn.”

Sonia nodded to Dean and motioned to leave the room. She walked out with him and closed the door.

“I think he’s right. If she knows where they are, this will save us a lot of time. Let him go with you.”

“It’ll open us up in court-”

“Dean, you don’t even have to say who he is. It’s a bluff. She’ll think what we want her to think without either of you saying a word. He can lie. Hell, he can tell her we faked Jones’s death and he’s in witness protection as we speak. The only problem with that is if she was part of it.”

“I see your point.” Dean ran his thumbs down her face, across her lips, dropped his hand. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m good.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t have to.”

Dean didn’t want to do this, but he understood the strategy and he could see it working. He rubbed the back of Sonia’s neck as they returned to the conference room. Cammarata was watching. “Sam, find out where the assistant U.S. attorney is-she’s someplace around here-and ask her to observe. Cammarata, you’re with me.”

Dean knew the interview would be a success from the minute they walked into the room. Victoria Christopoulis’s rigid back was to them and Dean walked around the table and introduced himself. “Ms. Christo poulis, I’m Assistant Director Dean Hooper with the FBI, and I think you’ve already met Charlie Cammarata-though you knew him as Chuck Angelo.”

Cammarata walked around and sat down across from the regal Greek matriarch of the Christopoulis clan. He leaned back and grinned, looking younger and confident while he pretended to be laid back. “Vicky! Good to see you again. I had a feeling I’d be seeing you in prison one of these days.”

The shock on the woman’s face was priceless. The shock was followed by disbelief. “I–I don’t understand. I don’t know why I’m here.” She gained confidence as she spoke. “I’ve been harassed by your government all day.”

“I’ll apologize for my partner, Agent Callahan,” Dean said. “He can be a bit tenacious.”

Victoria’s eyes kept going back to Cammarata. “I don’t understand what you’re doing here.”

“You don’t? You’re smarter than that, Vicky.”

“Victoria,” she snapped.

“Right. Tori. Got it. Well, I didn’t exactly advertise it, but I was working undercover. Xavier was a very naughty businessman. You heard about the FBI raid the other day.”

She stared at him with disbelief bordering on hatred. “You? You bastard.”

“So I’ve heard.” He glanced at Dean. Dean had never seen such calculation and cold strategy in anyone before.

“Well, see, after that Xavier realized he was dead meat. My man Dean, here-same guy who took down two mob families in Chicago and our own local homegrown boy Thomas Daniels-killed him, too, didn’t you, Dean? — well, Dean had Xavier hook, line, and sinker. Xavier knew it and was willing to deal.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“He sat right where you are. I know. I drove him here.”

Victoria was doing her best to keep a stiff upper lip, but Dean saw her composure waver. Cammarata said, “I helped negotiate terms for his testimony against your son, the principals of Rio Diablo, Weber Trucking, and-”

He pulled out the photograph and pointed to the picture of Devereaux in the middle. “And him.”

Victoria paled. “Noel-”

Dean didn’t physically react to the new name. Cammarata hadn’t clued him in on this part of his strategy. He was a loose cannon.

“Noel baby is going down.”

“He’ll kill you.”

“Me? No, I don’t think so. Thing is, Tori,” Cammarata said, “Jones got himself popped. So did Greg, very sad.” Cammarata sounded like he was dancing on their graves. Dean shifted in his seat. “So, babe, let me lay it out to you. My man Jones squealed. Gave us some good faith info for us to verify, but wouldn’t take our protection. We thought he might run, so we confiscated his plane, froze his accounts, the whole nine yards. Hoop here was tracking him, lost him near the river, and bang. He’s dead.”

Dean interjected before Cammarata went too far. “We have Jones’s statement, and it will hold up in court at least to the extent that I can get a warrant to verify everything he said, such as Omega’s latest shipment from Hong Kong.”

Victoria stared at him and didn’t say anything. She played with her diamond and platinum watch with shaking hands.

Cammarata leaned forward. “Xavier told us about your penchant for young boys. Fourteen, fifteen? Georgie ran all the way to America to get away from you, but you followed him. Of course, he’s too old for you to be screwing anymore, but there was that special order of yours.”

Victoria looked down, lip quivering, and Cammarata slammed his hand on the table. “Look at me, bitch!”

She jumped, stared at him, eyes wide. “You think I don’t know?” he said. “He was thirteen and your son brought him up from Chile, along with a shipment of slave labor into Mexico. Then he asked Xavier to fly down and retrieve him for you. You had him for two weeks, locked in a warehouse. When you had enough, you flew home. Only, you didn’t tell anybody to fetch him, did you? Did you, you fucking bitch!”

Dean straightened. “That’s enough,” he said firmly.

Victoria said in a small voice, “I want immunity.”

“No,” Cammarata said. “You need to pay for the lives you destroyed and the people you killed.”

“I’ve never killed anyone!” She sobbed, tears leaking, making her excessive makeup run in rivulets down her face.

“Leaving a minor to die of dehydration? That’s murder in my book, babe.”

“Immunity and protection. You don’t know Noel Marchand.”

“Tell us,” Dean said.

“I want a deal on the table. I want my attorney and a deal and then I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Fuck, she’d asked for her attorney.

“Let’s go, Cammarata.”

“No.”

“Now.”

“There will be no deal. We have you dead to rights … unless you give us something we can verify. Something that might help. Where are the girls?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turned her head. She was visibly shaking, but held her chin high.

Cammarata made a move to backhand her and Dean grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm behind him. He pushed him out the door and slammed it shut.

“I don’t care who she is or what she did, you will not hit a suspect in my interview.”

Cammarata was red-faced. “That kid’s not the half of it.”

“Callahan,” Dean said without taking his eyes off Cammarata. “Watch him.”

The assistant U.S. attorney was frowning. “She asked for her lawyer, Hooper.”

“I know.”

He went back in.

Victoria was crying, her body shaking violently. “He’ll kill me. He killed Xavier, he killed Gregory. He’ll kill me. You have to protect me.” She implored him. “Please. I’m not scared of dying. But you don’t know what he does to people.”

“I want to make a deal,” Dean said. “But I have two questions and I need you to answer them truthfully, okay?”

She nodded.

“Where are the young women your son brought from Hong Kong earlier this week?”

“I don’t know. I swear, I don’t know!”

“Do you have a good guess?”

She nodded, eyes wide and her nose leaking as much as her eyes.

“Please, Victoria. If we find them in time, I will personally go to the judge on your behalf.”

She sniffed, wiped her face with the back of her hand. Her spotty hands showed her age. “I don’t know exactly where, but George told Jordan Weber to take them to the mine.”

“The mine?”

“That’s it. That’s exactly what he said. I don’t know where it is. I don’t know, I swear, I don’t know. If I knew, I would tell you.”

Sam had said there were mines all over the Sierra Nevadas. Could there be one on Rio Diablo land?

“I believe you.”

“You do?” She smiled. “Thank you. I’m telling you the truth.”

“One more question.”

Dean took out the photograph of the traffickers. “You said this man was Noel Marchand.”

She nodded. “Yes. I’ve known him for years. But that fishing trip was the first time we met.”

“Where was this taken? Our analysts believe Acapulco.”

“Near Acapulco. It’s a small town, Tres Palos. Noel lives in a fortress there.”

“What was this fishing trip about?”

“I–I think,” Victoria said, her chin held up, “I’ll wait for my attorney before I answer any more questions.”

Dean left the room feeling ill. He didn’t want to tell Sonia the news, but he had to. Better to come from him than anyone else.

Cammarata said, “You did pretty good.”

“You sound surprised,” Dean said.

He shrugged. “Sonia doesn’t like idiots.”