Page 37 of Love Me Darkly
“What’s up, Bossman?”
“When we catch up with R.K., I think I’ll have a little chat with him about our friend Tariq here. Tell him exactly who was responsible for the NOLA house raid.”
Donovan stroked his chin. “While you’re at it, you might mention what we turned up at the warehouse. But, you know, maybe don’t bring Morrison and Wilson into it.”
Suede’s complexion had gone ashen, and his gaze darted back and forth between Mateo and Donovan. “I want a lawyer.”
He’d nearly whispered the words bringing the entire interrogation to a screeching halt, but Mateo had heard them. Pounding his fist on the table, he turned for the door.
“Suit yourself. Donovan, get him a phone.”
Mateo slammed the door and leaned against it, letting out a frustrated sigh. The gnawing sensation in his stomach was nearly unbearable, exacerbated by his irritation. He’d thought they were getting somewhere with Suede but had just hit a dead end. They had more than enough to convict the pimp and his accomplices, but they needed more. They needed the owner of Valemont.
“Uh … someone! Come! Help! Please!”
Darcy’s raised voice drew Mateo toward her office door. It hung open and he found her inside, standing in front of her monitors. Her rolling chair had been pushed back and overturned, and her cat-eared headphones lay on the floor beside it. She jumped up and down, pointing at her screens.
“I did it! I found him! I fucking found him!”
Mateo wrinkled his brow, glancing from one monitor to the next to make sense of what he was seeing. On one of them, a photo of a man with fair skin and Slavic features stared back at him. Light blond hair was scraped back from his forehead and slicked, flaunting the square jaw, high cheekbones, cat-like blue eyes, and long, sharp nose. His piercing eyes seemed to penetrate the screen, sending a chill down Mateo’s spine.
“Who?” he urged while putting Darcy’s chair upright. “Who did you find?”
Rolling her chair back into place, she clicked her mouse a few times. “Prepare to bow down and name me the Queen of Everything. Meet Roman Korenic, owner of Valemont Holdings and Solstice nightclub, uber-rich trust fund kid, and all-around douchebag. This guy layered his assets better than a lasagna. Everything loops through trusts, LLCs, and offshore shells.”
“So how did you find him?”
“He slipped. Once. Left a digital fingerprint on a logistics invoice tied to Gulf Atlantic Freight. A burner email with the name [email protected] was used to register the document. Probably meant to delete it and didn’t.”
She clicked her mouse again, pulling up a dark web screenshot with a forum thread highlighted in yellow.
“Azrael’s Gate’ and dosage experiments are mentioned all throughout this forum. One of the uploaded BAZ-024 design files had metadata from a device labeled ‘Korenic-Win11.’”
“He named the device after himself?”
Darcy snorted and shook her head. “Criminal mastermind … bad at IT hygiene.”
“How long has he been active?”
“The RK crate tags match shipping routes going back three, maybe four years, all tied to Miami warehouses under other aliases. But the pattern repeats—same shipping loops, same shell corps, same name fragments.”
“Criminal history?”
“A few charges for aggravated assault and obstruction, but it looks like Korenic’s daddy has long money. He was able to sweep it all under the rug.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, Mateo allowed himself to smile. He rested a hand on Darcy’s shoulder and squeezed.
“Good fucking job, Queen of Everything. We got him.”
Darcy beamed up at him. “You bet your ass we do. Oh, and I’m still working on that little side project. The number from Ms. Johnson’s burner phone is a match for one Tariq has been calling from his, but when I trace it I hit a dead end. The number is also a burner with no registered information. But, I’m chasing a few leads, and I think I might be on to something.”
Mateo wanted desperately to ask Darcy what she knew, how much information she’d been able to dig up on Melody. But it was too soon. Waiting until she had a full profile to present to him would be the smart thing to do. Besides, he had just figured out how to get Suede to talk.
A few hours later, Suede had agreed to cooperate fully with the investigation, giving up locations of brothels and warehouses in other states, as well as details on how shipments were orchestrated, and how the victims were recruited. His lawyer had negotiated the terms, pressing at first for complete immunity and witness protection. Mateo had laughed in the lawyer’s face, reminding him of the severity of the charges. In exchange for his cooperation, Tariq Hayes would get no more than a plea deal and a reduced sentence. If he was lucky, he’d only do ten to twenty.
By then, Williams, Smith, and Jones had arrived, fed, freshly showered, and professionally dressed. He would leave Suede’s debriefing to Williams, who would ensure every bit of information was properly documented. Jones and Smith had tasks of their own to carry out, and Darcy had declared her intention to go home for lunch and a nap before resuming her online sleuthing.
Right before leaving the interrogation room, Mateo had stood over Suede, who was still chained to the table. His lawyer hovered in the corner, briefcase under one arm.
