Jase steeled himself, and they went to work.
Two hours later, he headed in to take another shower—this one cold—then he sat back down in front of his laptop. Finally able to concentrate, he pulled up Google and keyed in Paradise Massage.
The website popped right up, a three-story building on Bissonnet, which, in the webpage photo, looked slightly run-down. Jase remembered hunting a skip in the neighborhood a couple of years back. It was an area known for prostitutes.
He started working ownership files, but it looked like the building was leased from a corporation. He needed to know the names of the owners. He dug out the disposable he was using and phoned Tabby’s number.
“Hey, hot stuff,” he said. “You got time to give me some help?”
“Sure, stud muffin. Whatcha need?”
He laughed. “Okay, I deserved that. I need to know the ownership of a building on Bissonnet off the Southwest Freeway in Houston. The lessee is Paradise Massage. I think whoever is running the business may be involved in sex trafficking. Can you get me some info?”
“I’ll call you right back.”
“Be sure to use this number.”
“Okay, will do.” The line went dead.
Kate wandered over and stood looking down at the photo of the building on the website. “I wonder if they keep the women there.”
“Could be. Area’s known for prostitutes.”
“We’re getting close, Jase. It feels like it’s all starting to come together.”
“Unfortunately, the closer we get, the more dangerous it is.”
“I know.”
He continued to dig around on the net while Kate checked in with her office, and the day slipped past. “I could sure use something to eat,” he said.
“I noticed a coffee shop down the road. Why don’t I go get us a sandwich and bring it back?”
He couldn’t stay with her every minute, he told himself. Still, he didn’t like leaving her alone. “Why don’t we both go?” he said.
They ended up eating there, a nice little café with great pastrami sandwiches. On the way back, they stopped at a grocery store to pick up some food: bread and lunch meat, some pastry and a fresh bag of coffee. Long as they had leads to follow, they wouldn’t be leaving Houston.
The disposable rang as Jase walked back into the apartment. It was Tabby. He put the phone on speaker. “Hey, Tab, what have you got?”
“Building’s owned by the Atrias Corporation. Which is owned by the Winman Company, which is owned by Briton, Inc.”
“I’m guessing these guys don’t want to be found.”
“Wait a minute,” Kate said. “Briton. I know that name. Briton has offices in Dallas. They’re on our potential client list. One of my employees, Robin Murdock, had a meeting with the VP of Mergers and Acquisitions a few months back. They were thinking of going public, wanted to be sure they had all their ducks in a row.”
“What happened?” Jase asked.
“They postponed the offering. They never ended up hiring a consulting firm, as far as I know.”
Tabby spoke up. “I’ll see what I can find out about that. Also, I figured you’d need names, so I cross-checked some other info and dug a little deeper. Two names popped up, connected to all of this in some way. Maximillian Schram and Arthur Wiedel. I’ll send you their bios. That’s it for now.”
“You’re the best, Tab. Thanks.” Jase ended the call and looked up at Kate. “Your connection to Briton might come in handy.”
“I’ll call Robin, see if she knows anything useful.” While Kate used the burner phone he’d given her, Jase brought Paradise Massage back up on the screen and found their phone number. He dialed it and waited while the call rang through.
“Paradise Massage,” a female voice answered.
“My name’s Tom Wilford. I saw your website on the internet. My back’s killing me. Any chance you could fit me in sometime today?”
