Page 49 of The Lies We Tell
“Speaking of which, you’ve got the real books of what money is being laundered through there, right?” Davis asks.
“I’ve got a log of what I’ve been asked to clean, but it’ll be my word against theirs. As you said, it’s not what you know but what you can prove.”
Davis smirks. “These guys are sloppy. Uneducated. How hard can it be?”
This even gets a rise out of Weicker, who looks at Davis like he had a frontal lobotomy.
I say, “You’re wrong on several fronts. First, they are suspicious. They live on high alert. Cell phones are encrypted. They’re paranoid. And they have tight leadership. A unanimously elected president and vice president. Rules. They aren’t sloppy. And maybe they aren’t educated in an academic way, but their street smarts are endless. Vex is the kind of technical wizard who makes our guys look like they’re sleeping on the job. They have military guys: Halo was a goddamn Navy SEAL. Spark was in the Marines. They can plan a raid with precision the ATF can’t replicate.”
Davis raises his hands. “Obviously touched on a sore spot. What happened to the mic the other day? Thought you were going to get whoever did the drop-off to talk about the cash.”
I glance out the window. The gray sky has cleared, and the sun is high, even if the early October weather is a little cooler than it has been. I wish I were outside on my bike. Spark texted and said he might be home tonight. Maybe I should message him and see where he’s headed in from and—
“Miller?” Davis says, interrupting my line of thought.
I shake my head for a moment, trying to force my brain back in the game. Undercover has become natural. This feels forced. It takes a lot of emotional energy to walk these two lives in parallel and switch between them on demand. I’ve been doing this every day for two years, remembering every detail, real or false. Hell, the club would routinely test me on it during that first year. They’d question me on shit I’d told them two weeks previously. “You got to know how to read these guys. I’m starting to tell when they want to talk about shit and when they don’t. And that day, they didn’t. Not to me. There was no point risking being caught on that day for nothing when I could save it and record them another time.”
Weicker nods, but I doubt Davis believes me.
“Did you follow up on the lead I gave you?” I ask Weicker before Davis can say anything else.
Davis perks up. “What lead?”
“I accompanied Tyler Hyatt to the docks—”
“Spark?” Davis says. And the way he says it chaps my ass. Like he’s somehow down with the cool kids because he knows my friend’s road name.
“Yes, Spark,” I answer, trying to hold back my sarcasm. “And a girl escaped from a truck. She’s been abducted and beaten. The club figured out where the guy lived from the license plate.”
“You said the girl wouldn’t file a report with the local police,” Weicker says.
“She overheard one of the men say two police officers were helping them out. I’m thinking they were on the payroll. She didn’t feel like she could.” It’s an oversimplification of everything Briar has been through.
“What are you hoping we’ll do?” Davis asked. “Like before, it’s not what you know but what you can prove. Can you prove any of this?”
I shake my head. “We have a name and an affiliation. Joseph Hosea, Righteous Brotherhood. We think he’s part of a sex trafficking ring trying to find good American women to become their wives. And they’re operating in or around New Jersey and the docks.”
“You found this girl near the port?” Davis asks.
“Yeah, one night when Spark was dropping off payment to an informant at the docks.”
Davis taps the table. “I’m not sure this is the best use of your time. Following up on missing girls.”
I roll my eyes. “I know. That’s why I gave the details to Weicker. This could be an op twofer. The club and the traffickers.”
“I passed it to the FBI, but without a witness and proof, their hands are tied. You’d need to blow your cover to come forward. They are under-resourced for the work they’re supposed to be doing without going off on a goose chase. The girl doesn’t even want to give a testimony.”
“So, the bottom line is you aren’t going to do anything?”
Weicker puts his hands out. In surrender. “I didn’t say that. I just said that without the woman, it’s hard to make it a priority.”
I close my mouth, refusing to give them details about Briar. Maybe it’s from hanging around the club, but I’m becoming a paranoid fucker. If I tell them about her, that she’s staying with me, they might find some way to get her out of there so I can focus.
And perhaps her presence is the only thing keeping me sane right now.
“I mean, we don’t know if this woman was actually abducted or if she’s one of those women who have a few drinks with a group of guys, lead them on, and then cry rape when they do what she went home with them for. She could be a pissed-off girlfriend for all we know.”
I stand and shove the chair back. “Her hands were raw from being tied up. She was bruised.”
