“DidyouroldbuddyLeonard send you out there tonight to kill Charlotte Cavanaugh?” It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and Andi had been hammering at Kimball for a few hours. “Come on, Vince, be honest.” She leaned close and lowered her voice, as if to keep their conversation between the two of them. “Aren’t you getting tired of doing his dirty work all the time?”
His face was scraped up on one side from Hawk grinding it into the gravel. Not that anyone would blame him—the asshole was going to kill Charlotte, after all.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. And I got nothin’ else to say without my lawyer.” He tried to cross his arms atop his belly, but the chain from the shackles wouldn’t reach that far. So he crossed his hands in his lap instead.
Time to play their ace card.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Vince.” She grabbed her legal pad, stood, and rolled her chair beneath the table. “Maybe Helene will be more cooperative.”
“You leave her out of this!” He shot up from his chair, made a move toward her, and was tripped up by the shackles around his ankle. His girth threw him off balance, and he tipped forward and landed on his hands and knees.
“Well, that’s a pitiful sight if I ever saw one.” Andi stood by the door and watched as he struggled to stand. Once he managed to get himself off the floor and onto the chair, she said, “You okay, Vince? You’re breathing kinda heavy over there.”
“Helene doesn’t know anything.” His chest heaved up and down.
“Huh, that’s interesting, because her prints were all over the GPS tracker we found in Charlotte Cavanaugh’s bag.” Total bluff. Hawk destroyed the device before they could check it for prints.
Andi wrapped her hand around the doorknob and started to turn it.
“You found … but … No, wait.” He sputtered and fumbled over his words. “I can explain—”
“Sorry, Vince. You had a chance to help us out but chose not to.” Andi shrugged. “I’ll tell Helene you said hi.”
She tapped the pad on the side of her leg and left him alone.
“Wait! Come back here!” He pounded his fist on the table. “I want a lawyer! You can’t keep me here!”
Cole stood in the darkened viewing room, arms crossed, legs wide, and stared at Kimball through the two-way glass. The asshole kept yelling and tugging on the cuffs.
Do your best, he thought.
Idiot could work at getting free all night, but it would be a waste of time. Those shackles were stronger than the ones used by traditional law enforcement.
He flipped the speaker off, and a few seconds later, the door to the viewing room opened and light spilled in from the hallway. Andi entered and shut the door behind her.
“That guy is an absolute dolt, and right now, he’s super conflicted. His loyalty to Everett is being tested tonight. Makes me wonder what else he’s handled for the guy over the years.” She tossed the notepad onto the table, crossed her arms, and stood next to Cole at the window. “I’m going to let him stew for a bit while I question Helene.”
“We’ve got her across the hall. She’s pretty freaked out.” It’s not every day a person is rousted from their bed in the middle of the night by a bunch of guys decked out in tactical gear, then hauled to a secret location.
“Good, that makes it all the more fun.” Andi was tough as nails and had zero tolerance for shitty people. “How’s Luna doing on the bus thing?”
They continued watching Kimball, who’d apparently run out of steam and was pouting in his chair like a child.
“She found all of the manifest and scheduling information for them—pickup dates, times, and locations—but there are inconsistencies,” Cole said.
“What kind of inconsistencies?” Andi turned to him.
“At the end of a trip, all of the bus drivers are required to input their actual trip mileage into a specially designed database. However, the numbers they’ve been recording don’t match up to the trips on the official travel logs.”
“Wait, so they’re not sticking to their designated routes or something?” Andi lowered her arms.
“Doesn’t look like it.” He shook his head and ran his hand down the side of his beard. “And nobody’s ever bothered to keep track.”
“But why would they—”
They looked at each other.
“We were right. They’re trafficking those kids. That son of a bitch.” She stormed out of the room.
