FBI Agent Jade Monroe: Live or Die 02-Blood Trail Page 5

  Hope nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Say you’re sorry.”

  “Sorry, Leon.”

  “That’s better.” Leon relaxed as he pulled the stack of cash out of the envelope and counted it for the third time. “Damn, I could get used to this.”

  Gary snickered his response. “That’s our intention, as long as nobody screws it up.”

  Hope grabbed at Leon’s hands. “I want my share.” She pulled back when Leon fanned the money in her face.

  Gary jerked his head to the right. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? You two don’t get a share this time. That’ll teach you not to let girls die. We’d have another thousand bucks to split up if it wasn’t for your stupidity and negligence. That’s not to mention pissing off Charlie because we reached Central City late. You’re lucky I made up a bullshit story about having to change one of the tires. If he knew we had to dump a dead girl, we’d lose this gig for sure.”

  Leon huffed. “And that’s if Charlie was feeling generous. Chances are, we’d all be tossed into a ravine, too, since dead people don’t talk.” Leon looked over his shoulder at the girls. “Charlie’s no joke, and it would benefit you both to remember that.”

  Gary tipped his chin at Leon. “Put the damn money away, and make yourself useful. Reserve two rooms for the night at a motel near the bus station.”

  “Yep, on it.”

  They were on their way back to Denver. They would get rooms for the night then part ways the next morning. Leon and Hope would board the bus from Denver to Cheyenne, pick up the beater, and drive back to Rapid City. Gary and Claire would head for Casper in the truck. With the pizza delivery decals still on the sides of it, Gary felt safe enough to be on the interstate during daylight hours. Once they arrived in Casper, the truck would go into the storage garage until the next round of abductions. They had another delivery scheduled in less than a week, and the pizza decals would be swapped out with different ones.

  Forty-five minutes later, Gary parked in an all-night lot across the street from the Mile-High Manor, a two-bit motel only a block from the bus station.

  Hope groaned after they entered the building. “Come on. This place sucks. Let’s get out of here, and I’ll put the rooms on my credit card to make up for our mistake.”

  Gary grabbed her arm. “Not happening. I’ve told you both no more credit card use since I’m sure your folks are monitoring every transaction. If you need to take cash advances, that’s fine, but no more swiping cards, and you better not be doing it behind our backs. We’re making enough money now that everyone can pay their fair share in cash.”

  She jerked away from him. “All right, already, geez.”

  Leon looked back before walking up to the counter. “And this is where we’re staying tonight, so deal with it.”

  After checking in and dropping off their bags, the four of them went to the diner across the street from the motel. During that dinner hour, they discussed the next round of abductions. So far, the two deliveries they’d made to Charlie came from towns along the I-25 and I-90 routes between Casper and Rapid City. Continuing that same route was too dangerous since Gary was sure state troopers had begun patrolling those interstates more than usual. It was time to mix things up. They would go over other options once they were back at the motel, but one truck would leave from Casper, and the other from Schaeferville, South Dakota. Each time the haul would get bigger, and their income would grow faster.

  They ate dinner and walked back to the motel. The Cheyenne bus was scheduled to leave the station at seven fifteen a.m. the next day. That night, they would make tentative plans for the next round of abductions then leave Denver first thing in the morning.

  Chapter 10

  After breakfast, we checked out of our hotel and were off to the Blackhawk RV park for our nine a.m. meeting with Deputy Tim Jenner. We would listen to his account of that day then walk the area. Jillian had been missing for more than a week, and it was unlikely that any of the campers who were there a week ago would still be there that morning, yet my intentions were to talk to the current campers and ask if anybody had been trolling the campground who didn’t seem to be staying there. If suspicious-seeming characters were roaming around without an RV or a designated campsite, it would be imperative to find out why.

  We waited in our vehicle at the park entrance, and at three minutes before nine, a Meade County deputy sheriff’s car pulled up next to ours and lowered the passenger-side window.

  “Agents DeLeon and Monroe?”

  “That’s us,” Renz said. “Deputy Jenner?”

  The man tipped his head. “Follow me. I’ll take you to the campsite the Nances used.”

  The site was occupied by a different family, so we parked along the road. Deputy Jenner climbed out of his car, shook our hands, and went on to explain that RV site forty-seven was the one that had been occupied by the Nance family. It was deeper into the park and near a hill of pines that almost beckoned people to come explore. In the distance, I saw the interstate with cars zipping by, but as far away as they were, the sound was only a low hum and nothing that would interrupt the peace and quiet at their campsite. I wondered how the alleged argument between father and daughter went over in that seemingly serene location.

  “Deputy Jenner, were there occupied campsites all around the Nances’?”

  “There were, Agent Monroe.”

  “And all the people were interviewed?”

  “Absolutely. Other than hearing the argument between Mr. Nance and Jillian, then seeing her storm off in that direction”—he pointed toward the pines—“there was no indication that anything else was wrong. Nobody heard her yell for help or saw a suspicious vehicle barreling out to the highway—nothing. She just walked away and never came back.”

  Renz pointed toward the trees with his chin. “Can we take a walk?”

  “Sure thing, sir.”

  We reached the hill of pines several minutes later. From our elevated position, we could see the entire park with all the roads that went to different campsites.

  “One way in and out that turns into six different roads.”

  “Yep, with campsites on both sides and right next to each other,” Jenner said.

  I frowned. “As pretty as it is up here in the trees, down there doesn’t remind me of any childhood camping experiences that I recall.”

  “No, ma’am. It’s more like a trailer park in the country if you ask me.”

  Renz did a three sixty. “There aren’t any amenities here, but maybe that’s what people like. No Yogi Bear stuff, just wilderness with an interstate a half mile away.”

  “Maybe the kidnappers liked it too.” I noticed campsites farther back, and if the perps had been there, chances were, they saw everything going on below them. They would also see if someone was walking their way. “The kidnappers could have pulled in here to take a break, saw an opportunity with Jillian, snatched her up, and casually left without drawing any attention to themselves.”

  “That is possible,” Renz said, “but wouldn’t they need a way to draw her in?”

  “Sure, but if they’re who we assume they are, what sixteen-year-old wouldn’t think it’s cool to be with young men and women in their twenties? When I was that age, I would have thought I was hot stuff to hang out with older people, especially if they seemed rebellious.”

  Renz rolled his eyes. “I guess, and you may be onto something, Jade. The kidnappers could entice the girls with beer, booze, cigarettes, or weed. Who knows? I’d venture to say most teens would go for it though.”

  I turned around. “Let’s head back down. I’d like to speak to a few of the campers before we leave.”

  Back at campsite number forty-seven, I asked neighboring campers if they’d seen any unusual vehicles or white box trucks come into the RV park, but nobody had. We thanked them and left, then followed Jenner back to the interstate and headed north to Sturgis.

  Tracy’s parents agreed to meet us and Deputy Jenner at the campgrou
nd. I appreciated their offer since it would save us time by not having to drive out to their home in Bear Butte, east of Sturgis. Deputy Sheriff Ben Tilley said he would be there too.

  Once again, introductions were made, and we were shown the site that the Bast family had chosen for their camping experience. Their account of the events were exactly like what was on the written report. Nothing varied, was added, or taken out.

  They explained that it was Tracy who was the main caregiver of the family’s Jack Russell terrier, Riley, since it was Tracy who’d begged for a dog.

  “That afternoon, Tracy took Riley for a walk, just like she’d done every day. She’d walk the park with him after breakfast, usually at nine in the morning and again late in the afternoon. If the dog needed another walk after dark, we’d go out as a family,” Mrs. Bast said.

  I glanced over the report. “And you guys were here for how many days?”

  Mr. Bast responded. “A week. It originally was meant to be five days, but once Tracy disappeared, it was hard for us to leave. We hoped she’d somehow wander back.”

  Ben Tilley took over. “Our deputies and volunteers walked the entire park. We had the Meade County helicopter go over twice with heat-seeking radar, but we came up empty. Tracy wasn’t anywhere in the area.”

  I wasn’t surprised, and I was sure the purpose of those box trucks was to snatch and go. The girls were long gone, but to where, we still didn’t know.

  We thanked the sheriff’s office for their help and gave the Bast family as much hope as we were comfortable giving. We didn’t want to make false promises, and if the missing girls had actually been sold off to an underground organization, finding them would be nearly impossible. I was more than familiar with the statistics, and they were horrifying. Eighty percent of abducted kids were over the age of twelve, and in the United States alone, a child went missing every forty seconds.

  Renz and I drove into Sturgis and had lunch. As we sat at a table at the far end of the room and quietly discussed the case, we reviewed the information we had and who we’d spoken to so far.

  I rubbed my forehead as I gave Gary and Leon some thought. “Why can’t we haul them in for questioning or have them followed? It seems like that would end the abductions quickly, or am I missing something?”

  Renz somewhat agreed with my theory. “That would seem like a logical remedy, but nobody has witnessed them doing anything wrong. As of last month, both men have completed their incarceration and paid their debt to society. They’re hopefully law-abiding citizens, and until we can prove they aren’t, we can’t harass them simply because they were once in prison. We need hard evidence against them and possibly Claire and Hope too. Also, keep in mind, that the small fish will eventually lead us to the big fish.”

  I was shocked. “What exactly are you saying?”

  “Like I said, we need hard evidence implicating them, like actually catching them in the act. We can use that against them and hope they tell us who the big players are or, depending on Taft’s recommendation, follow them to the drop-off location. Chances are, that person is just a middleman, then we keep going up the ladder, get the Justice Department involved, and try to find out where the kids are held until they’re sold.”

  My mind was reeling. “I can’t imagine what those kids must be going through, Renz. Isn’t it more important to shut down the abduction right out of the gate?” I thought back to my early years at the Washburn County Sheriff’s Office and the case against Matt and Jeremy—the brothers who kidnapped girls and kept them in cages in their basement. They sold them on the black market through the dark web to the most vile men from every walk of life. I had to shake those thoughts out of my head and focus on our current case.

  “Jade, if Gary and Leon are involved in trafficking teenagers and we take them in, they’ll be replaced within minutes by someone else chomping at the bit to take over their positions. As low-level as they are, and without undeniable proof that we can use to scare the bejesus out of them, the abductions will continue without the slightest hiccup in the process. We need the big dogs, and my guess is we’ll have to go through a half dozen other people to get to them. It’s highly unlikely that Gary and Leon even know who they are.”

  “Then what difference do they make?”

  “We have to get the goods on them with real proof, follow them with the girls to the next-tier guy, and go from there.”

  I let out a long sigh. “I feel like we’re in a holding pattern until tomorrow when we convene in Buffalo. Why don’t we knock out the visits with the parents now and get that out of the way?”

  “Not a bad idea, but I’m not sure we want to show our hand to Gary’s and Leon’s folks. We don’t even know if their parents have contact with them on a regular basis, but if they do, we don’t want them to warn the guys that the FBI is sniffing around. On the other hand, Claire’s and Hope’s parents are the hovering ones. They’ll tell us everything they know about their daughters, and that information should prove helpful.”

  After lunch and two cups of coffee, I suggested we forgo the hotel rooms in Sturgis. “We’ll be passing through Gillette tomorrow anyway. Why not get a room there and save ourselves needless hours of driving back and forth?”

  “Good idea.”

  Renz waved down the waitress and asked for the check. I tossed a ten on the table and gathered my purse and briefcase, and we were on the road five minutes later.

  I climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up. “Gillette is an hour and a half away. I’ll make the calls while you drive.”

  Chapter 11

  I called Hope’s mom, Diane, and she offered to contact Claire’s parents on our behalf since Claire’s and Hope’s families were close friends and had been for years. Diane suggested we come to her home and said she would make sure that Mr. and Mrs. Usher were there as well. Not only would that allow us to talk openly and candidly, but it would also give us the opportunity to run ideas by both sets of parents at once.

  After thanking her and saying they should expect us around two p.m., I ended the call.

  As Renz drove, I stared out the window. I’d loved road trips for as long as I could remember. During my years as an FBI agent, I’d traveled all over the country, and that would be my dream under different circumstances. The rolling hills, tall trees, and ragged sandstone formations of South Dakota were beautiful and a sight to behold.

  If only we had time to tour around, but I know better—someday, maybe.

  I sighed as I enjoyed the view.

  “You seem relaxed.” Renz looked over and gave me a smile.

  “I am and would love to pitch a tent, build a campfire, and watch the stars all night, but that’ll have to wait for another time. Right now, I need to fire off a text to Fay.” I lifted my phone from the cup holder, tapped Fay’s name, and told her about our change of plans, and that we would be getting a hotel in Gillette that night. I also said we would be on the road for the next hour, so if they needed help with anything, I would be able to work from my phone. Several minutes later, a return text came in. I read it as Renz drove then paraphrased it for him.

  “Fay sent the contact information for John Moretti, the parole officer for Leon Brady. He’s located in Rapid City, so that will definitely have to take place via phone call. She asked if we could take care of contacting him and said that they’d already stopped in the office of Ken Demmler, Gary’s parole officer in Casper. Apparently, she and Tommy are swamped right now and would appreciate the help.”

  “Yeah, go ahead. Make sure Mr. Moretti emails you copies of every appointment Leon has attended and the dates for his appointments through the end of the year.”

  “Got it.” I reached over the seat, grabbed my briefcase, and pulled it to me, then took out a pen and notepad. I would use the briefcase as my tabletop for writing purposes.

  I made the call to John Moretti and told him who I was and what I needed. My notes already showed that Leon’s prison release date was August 13, but up to that
point, I didn’t know who he’d been assigned as a parole officer. Mr. Moretti told me that Leon had had his introductory meeting with him on August 20, after he’d had a physical address to put on record. Since then, Leon had had two appointments, both of which he’d attended. They’d been on September 5 and September 12. He had one more scheduled for September 29, then they would go monthly for six months. If he remained out of trouble during that period of time, his meetings would end, and he would go forward as a man completely free of all legal restraints. He would be a regular member of society, like everyone else. I gave Mr. Moretti my email address, asked for all Leon’s records and appointment dates, thanked him, and shook my head as I hung up.

  Renz gave me a side-eyed glance. “What?”

  “Leon must put on the good-boy show every time he meets with Mr. Moretti.”

  Renz laughed. “Yeah, just like every ex-con who meets with their parole officer. Don’t worry about it. If Leon and Gary are doing what we think they are, their freedom is going to be short-lived.”

  “I need Fay to email me the dates of Gary’s meetings. We’ll compare his to Leon’s then compare both to the dates girls have gone missing. With any luck, those dates should help us put the nails in their coffins.”

  “Yep, and maybe in Claire’s and Hope’s too.”

  I tapped off a message to Fay saying I’d spoken with John Moretti and had him email me every appointment he’d had and had scheduled for Leon. I needed Fay to do the same with Gary’s dates. I would compare them and the dates the girls went missing when I had my computer set up later.

  My phone buzzed two more times—one from Fay saying she would email me everything we needed and the other from Diane Daniels, who said the meeting was all set with Claire’s parents. Both couples would be waiting for us at the Danielses’ home.

  “Good, everything is set. Now we just have to get to Gillette, and after we talk to the parents, we’ll check into a hotel and compare all the dates.”