Page 22 of Secrets

“Meaning?” frowned Jean.

“Meaning, they could subpoena her to appear in person.”

“You know as well as I do that if he gets that approved, he’ll make sure she’s dead before she leaves this building. And what about all the money they made? We’ve seen photos of the home they lived in. It’s not the typical home we would see associated with men like these.”

“I couldn’t agree more there,” said Fowler. “We’ve been searching for the money for years now and haven’t found one damn dime. I have two men who’ve turned state’s evidence and verified that Jay personally collected the money himself, and it was always cash. We’re talking thousands and thousands of dollars.”

“And no bank accounts, no credit cards, nothing,” said Mac.

“Nothing. Listen, I know how good you guys are, but we’re not exactly slouches when it comes to tracking the money. We haven’t found one damn thing.”

“Can we talk to him?” asked Kegger.

Fowler stared at the four men, shaking his head. If Jay saw the four of them, he might just shit his pants. He might, if he were any other man. But Jay Fraser was a psychotic, brutal animal who enjoyed killing. Worse was that he wasn’t stupid. He was highly intelligent and never forgot a face.

“I’ll petition his attorneys to allow that to happen. However, I seriously doubt if they’re going to allow it.” The four men nodded, frowning at him. He lowered his voice and leaned forward. “Listen, if you have another way, I’d be open to hearing it.”

“I’ll let you know if we figure that out,” said Jean. “Let me ask you a question. Why are you so invested in this? I mean, we often get invested in a particular case when victims have been brutalized, cruelly treated, victimized. No doubt Millicent was treated like shit, especially by her older brother, but it feels like there’s more.”

“She was lucky that her father and brother Tick didn’t allow Jay to get to her in the way he wanted. I found her in the shed that day because I’d just been given an anonymous tip that she was going to be sold. Part of the deal that Jay made with the Dyatlov brothers. They would get his sister.”

“Fucking hell,” muttered Rafe. “What kind of deal was this?”

“That’s what I still don’t know. It was money and the sister, but I have nothing else. I don’t know if there was a contract involved or anything else. I heard the information and raced to the house. As I was waiting at the corner, the father and brothers took off. I knew she was there alone, but I couldn’t find her in the house, then I got an anonymous tip from a neighbor that she’d been placed in the shed.”

“Was she bad?” asked Kegger.

“Not as bad as I expected. It was clear they’d beat her, but I suspect they’d held back somewhat. It was my fault. I tried to get her to speak to me, to trust me when I interviewed her at school. They walked in, and I knew I’d fucked up. My only thought was to make sure she knew she could call me.”

“But she didn’t. She was beaten and placed in that shed and almost died because you got greedy and careless,” growled Mac.

“I know, I know,” he said, raising his hands. “We had her in several safehouses, and then the father and brothers showed up with back-up from the Dyatlov family. They killed several agents and three officers. In the process, Tick, the younger brother, was killed. The old man was taken into custody but in the initial hearing took the gun off the bailiff and tried to shoot his daughter. He ended up dying in the process.”

“But the lunatic wasn’t,” said Jean, glaring at him.

“No.He wasn’t.”

“What do they think they’re going to get from her with a live court appearance?” asked Mac.

“Jay is trying to prove that he was a good big brother. Protected her from their businesses, bought her clothing, fed her, sheltered her, the ever-present, ever-protective big brother. He forgets that we know he was going to sell her to the Dyatlovs.”

“She’d never make it out of the courthouse,” said Jean. “We would damn sure do what we do, but I’m going to guess he has a plan for that.”

“I have to get to a meeting, but I’ll stay in touch and let you know if I can get you into the prison. Will you stay a few days?” asked Fowler.

“Nowhere else to be,” said Jean.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

As Griffin guided the vehicle out of the neighborhood, he stopped in front of a large train platform, frowning.

“What? What’s wrong?” asked Bull.

“This. The Brown Line station. Why, if you had all that money, would you buy a house so close to a main transportation line? You’d get noise, pedestrians, tourists, all manner of traffic coming through.”

“Maybe that’s why,” said Bull. “Their clientele could arrive on the train without ever being seen as suspicious by the public. They’d look like any other commuters or tourists. They could walk from the station to the house and back again. No vehicles parked outside, no motorcycles.”

“We need to get footage from the trains during the last two years they were in that house,” said Whiskey. “Code?”

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