“Exactly. Because of her we were able to drop the hammer on half a dozen serious meth dealers and two manufacturing houses. It may not mean much in California, but here in Oklahoma it was a big deal.”
I said, “A good case is a good case—it doesn’t matter where it is.”
“I don’t know about you guys, but meth has just been killing us the last few years. Everyone talks about fentanyl, but meth is the big problem around here.”
“We have our own issues in San Francisco. Cocaine deaths have been on the rise and the opioid crisis hit us hard.”
“I’d trade you both of those problems for meth. At least in the scope of the cases we work here in Oklahoma. But I’m sure you don’t need me to preach to you how important good police work is.”
I gave Captain Johnson everything we had on the case so far and ended by asking her, “Do you think those Oklahoma meth dealers could’ve been angry enough to come out here and murder Tina?”
After a long pause, Captain Johnson said, “My instinct is that it’s unlikely. This isn’t like the mob in the movies. These were all local dealers. They’re basically just a bunch of hillbillies who figured out how to make a profit by ruining people’s lives. They wouldn’t have the resources to reach out to a victim in California.I’m not sure they even care after the fact. If they could’ve kept her from testifying, they might have done something. They don’t murder witnessesafterthey testify.”
I thanked the captain. I typed out everything Randy Hicks would need to know in an email and sent it to him. Then I noticed Brady sitting in his office. After I strolled over and knocked on the doorframe, he grunted for me to come in.
I had a good relationship with my current lieutenant, who was also Yuki’s husband. His reputation around the department was stellar. I had always found him to be quite insightful when it came to bigger issues. Maybe it was his quiet manner of letting other people talk until they’d already said too much. Maybe it was just his muscular appearance. He stayed in impressive shape and wasn’t afraid to sit on surveillance with us.
I laid out everything I’d learned in the last few days. From the bodies found at Marshall’s Beach and Golden Gate Park to Cindy’s story about the missing girls in San Julio. Through my entire narrative, my lieutenant never said a word. When I was done, he looked at me for a few seconds before he spoke.
He said, “If I follow everything you’re saying, you’re thinking there could be some sort of trafficking group that might be responsible for the disappearance or murder of all these women.”
“That’s correct.”
“Then why are you in here talking to me and not out on the street kicking ass?”
It was hard not to smile. This was the kind of boss you dreamed about. It was a case a lot of people would’ve shied away from, but he was telling me to attack.
That’s what I intended to do.
CHAPTER18
CINDY THOMAS PACEDin front of her open computer. She was in the middle of a Zoom call with her agent, Bob Barnett. The DC-based literary agent had guided her through several tricky negotiations with nonfiction books. Cindy appreciated his insights. But his calm personality and demeanor meant just as much.
She could see on the screen that Bob was looking at the photographs she’d sent him of the missing girls. She knew that look of concentration, where a weird little wrinkle ran up the middle of his forehead.
Finally, Cindy couldn’t wait any longer and said, “Well, what do you think, Bob?”
He mumbled, “Interesting.”
She knew that was one of the “placeholder” words he used while he was thinking. Some of the others were “unusual,” “thought-provoking,” “it has possibilities,” “let me think about this.” She let him continue to look at the girls and read the short synopsis she’d written for him.
Bob glanced up at the camera on his own computer. He had a paternal look. Cindy wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
Then he said, “There are a lot of ifs in this proposal.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Ifthese girls didn’t run away from home, then we have to askiftheir disappearances are connected. Thenifthey are somehow connected, the police must wonderifthe girls went with someone willingly or not. Then we have to worry about the practical side of the book.Ifthere’s a real story here, would we be able to sell it? We could,ifit’s compelling enough. This may be a little premature.”
Cindy sat in her desk chair so that she was also looking directly into the camera of her computer. “Bob, I know it’s early. I have a gut feeling telling me to jump into this with both feet. Tell me what you think. Is there enough for a nonfiction book?”
As he did with everything, Bob Barnett took his time in answering. Slowly he nodded his head. “There’s enough here for a compelling story, but I don’t know if it’d be a big hit financially. That makes it problematic for the New York publishers.”
“So you don’t think I should proceed?”
“I didn’t say that. If these girls are part of some human-trafficking ring, this is an important story. This is a story that needs to get out into the public. The public may not want to read about it, but we need to bring it to their attention. And we’ll need a title. The victims are young, attractive—and there are more of them than anyone realizes.”
“Dozens, in this case, maybe more.”
