Sean cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the room. ‘The tracker,’ he began, ‘transmitted a tamper alert at 5.45 this morning, while in the vicinity of the morgue. It was moved from the morgue, but the battery died a little later, at the corner of Fourteenth and Race. I’m assuming it was en route to CPD.’
‘Shit,’ Demetrius muttered. ‘Who got killed?’
‘The tracker was assigned to Charles Anders,’ Ken said, ‘one of five workers that we sourced on March fourth, three years ago.’
Demetrius turned on his iPad and, after inputting several passwords, unlocked the spreadsheet where he kept his contracts and sales information. Ken had been averse to Demetrius using the electronic tablet at first, but since it wasn’t hooked up to the Internet and couldn’t be hacked, he’d finally agreed to it. It could be physically stolen, but then again, Demetrius had pointed out, so could Ken’s notebooks, and Demetrius’s tablet would be a helluva lot harder for the thief to break into and read.
Each member of Ken’s team kept their own records and none was accessible on the Internet. If one of them was caught, whoever had done the catching would not be able to see their entire operation. Joel’s data was the most damning, since he kept the actual books, but Ken knew where Joel was at every moment, thanks to the cell phones that each of them carried. Hidden tracking software showed Ken the location of every member of his leadership team. They didn’t know he was tracking them. He knew they’d be displeased if they ever found out.
His own phone was the only device that was not tracked. He’d made sure of it.
Reuben’s phone had stopped transmitting a few minutes after they’d spoken that morning, but Ken hadn’t realized that fact until he’d checked his tracking software after speaking with Demetrius earlier. The last place the phone had been active was on the road that Reuben would have used to get to the office. Either Reuben’s battery had gone dead, or the entire phone had been destroyed.
‘On that date, we imported eight units from Southeast Asia,’ Demetrius said as he flicked through the spreadsheet. ‘Most of our acquisitions are placed on the West Coast, but we did bring one shipment here. Ah, yes. On that date we processed a family unit of five recruited from the Philippines – father, mother, two daughters, fourteen and thirteen years old, and a son, nine years old. The father’s previous work experience included teaching biology at university level and manual labor on a farm. The mother had been a nurse.’
‘Were you able to pinpoint positions on the other four trackers, Sean?’ Ken asked.
‘Yes. Two of them – the two males – are in what appears to be a factory northwest of Dayton. It’s the middle of nowhere. Google Earth shows a large warehouse structure with a parking lot.’ Sean turned his laptop around to show Ken and the others. ‘Keep in mind that Google also says this image is three years old, so it may not look exactly like this anymore, but this is the location.’ He turned his laptop back to face him. ‘The other two trackers are located in Anders’s main residence in Hyde Park.’
Ken lifted his brows. ‘Main residence?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Sean said. ‘I ran a background check as soon as you gave me his name. He’s purchased a condo in Vail and a small property in southern France, both as corporate assets.’
Dave Burton, acting head of security until Reuben returned, leaned forward, his elbows on the table. ‘The men I sent to sit outside Anders’s house say that he is there right now. They’ve seen him pacing in front of the windows.’
‘I’ll bet he’s pacing,’ Ken said grimly. ‘He knows he should have contacted me hours ago. Make sure your men don’t let him leave.’
‘They won’t. They’re under orders to watch the house, and if they see Anders, his family or any of his assets trying to leave, to pick them up and transport them to our safe house.’
Meaning it was a house safe from scrutiny. Anders, Ken thought, was far from safe. ‘Perfect. So the wearer, who is likely still in the morgue, was one of the females.’
Burton frowned. ‘Don’t you know which tracker was placed on which wearer?’ he asked, his disbelief and disapproval apparent.
Everyone tensed. ‘No,’ Ken said with a tight smile, ‘we do not. I’ll let your question go this time, since this is your first time dealing with us directly.’
Burton looked around the table, saw the stares and glares, then swallowed hard. ‘I’m sorry. I meant no disrespect. It’s just that how can I know which live people to chase if I don’t know who’s missing and presumed dead?’
‘We don’t keep any more information than we absolutely need to,’ Demetrius explained, his deep bass rolling over the table like quiet thunder. ‘No trail for our competitors or the authorities to follow.’
‘I know which female it was,’ Sean said. ‘At least I think I do. I had Decker listen to the tracker’s audio feed. Most of what he heard at first was just idle chat at the morgue, but then a man started talking about getting her processed and logged in.’ He tapped a key on his laptop and an older man’s voice came out of the speakers: Unidentified female, late teens, early twenties, of Asian descent. Multiple gunshot wounds with a large-caliber weapon, one to the abdomen, no exit wound, the other to the left temple, exit wound. Paramedics were called, victim was transported to the hospital, where she was pronounced DOA.
Sean paused it. ‘He goes on to X-ray her torso, where he finds the bullet. Then this.’ He hit PLAY again. No broken bones in the upper thighs, knees and . . . What the . . . What is that? A short pause, then a huge sigh. Hell.
‘After that, he seems to make two phone calls,’ Sean explained. ‘What we hear next is this.’ He hit the PLAY button again. Vince, I got something here that you need to see . . . Yeah, I mean right now. The gunshot victim from the alley . . . Thanks, man. Another pause, a second phone call. Carrie, I need you to come in a little early. We got a homicide in this morning and I just got to processing her. She’s wearing an ankle tracker . . . No ID on her, but I’ll have her printed by the time you get in here . . . Already called him. He’s on his way.
Sean hit pause again. ‘“Vince” refers to Vince Tanaka, head of CSU. “Carrie” is Carrie Washington, the head ME. The guy on the tape reports to Dr Washington. What we hear next on the audio is what sounds like him taking the victim’s fingerprints, and then CSU arrives and cuts the tracker off the wearer. I checked the CPD dispatch log. They responded to a matching scene this morning at about three A.M., three blocks north of the Meadow homeless shelter.’
Demetrius scowled. ‘That’s where the dealers and hookers hang.’
And he ought to know, Ken thought. That was where Demetrius had grown up. ‘What else did you get from the CPD dispatch log?’ Ken asked Sean.
‘Initial reports say the wearer of the tracker was with a man when she was shot. The man was also shot, but apparently not injured badly enough to be transported. He was treated at the scene.’
Ken frowned. Not good at all. ‘Who was the man?’
‘He was questioned at the scene and released,’ Sean said. ‘The log didn’t list his name, but I have someone in CPD who owes me a favor and can find out.’
‘Do it,’ Ken snapped, then looked at Demetrius. ‘We need to find Reuben and Jackson. They didn’t just disappear into thin air. Someone took them. That Reuben disappeared right after this tracker was cut . . . We can’t assume it was a coincidence.’
‘When I left Jackson’s house,’ Demetrius said, ‘I drove to Reuben’s place, then drove the route he would have taken to work. I saw no evidence of his car. No wrecks. No sign of any struggle.’
Burton shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘I know where his car is.’
All eyes swung to Reuben’s right-hand man. ‘Where?’ Ken demanded.
A long hesitation. ‘In the parking lot of a hotel near the airport,’ Burton finally said.
An even longer silence. ‘Excuse me?’ Demetrius asked. ‘He went to the airport?’ He turned to Ken, eyes dark with rage. ‘And you’re only mentioning this to us now?’