As we talked, Trigger’s phone began to ring, and everyone got quiet. He answered, once again putting it on speaker.
“He’s at the Heritage Inn in Round Rock, Texas. Address is 934 Augusta Road,” Tex announced. “He's been staying there for a few days, paying cash. From nearby security cameras, it looks like he’s there right now, and there’s a warrant out for his arrest for attempted murder.”
“Thanks, Tex,” I said, relief washing over me, and once the call was disconnected, I stood. “I’m going to get him.”
“Not without backup. I’m going with you,” Trigger said. He turned to Gillian and gave her a quick, heartfelt kiss, promising he’d be back quickly.
“I am, too,” Oz added.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “It’s my dad, and my responsibility. And he might be packing. I’m not sure.”
They didn’t answer, just gestured towards Trigger’s truck with scowls on their faces, and I followed them. I was grateful for their help, which I told them as Trigger pulled out of the driveway.
“No need to thank us, man. You’re family,” Oz said.
Once we had an address, my dad was surprisingly easy to catch. No busting down doors, no guns drawn, no shots fired. The bastard opened the motel door when I knocked and gave himself up. Trigger called the cops to execute their arrest warrant, and we piled into my dad’s room and waited for them to come for him.
Once he was in handcuffs, Trigger dropped me back at Grover’s house. I said goodbye to my friends, and made my way to the county jail to make sure they booked him, and the next morning I attended his arraignment, making a statement that seemed to convince the judge to set bail too high for him to pay. He’d be stuck in jail for the foreseeable future, and I made it clear that I was to be notified if my dad left the grounds, even for something as small as picking up trash on the side of the road. I wasn’t risking him around my family again.
6
EVAN
Once my dad was incarcerated, my mom was out of the hospital, and my sister felt comfortable with handling things on her own, I returned to DC and to my job. My first day back, I spent the morning returning emails and voicemails, and after lunch, I got caught up on my cases. As I’d asked, the team had kept an eye on Kassidy while I’d been gone, and hadn’t noticed anything suspicious, or anything that would put her in danger. We still weren’t sure what she was hiding, though, so I decided to call her and check in.
“Hey, Kassidy, it’s Evan,” I greeted her when she answered the phone. “I just got back into town, and I wanted to check in with you. How are you doing?”
“I’m fine,” Kassidy said, but she didn’t sound fine. She almost sounded annoyed.
“Are you sure?” I asked. “Maybe I could come by your office this week. We never finished our conversation from the other day because of my family emergency. I’m sorry for rushing out on you like that, by the way.”
I noticed her hesitation over the phone before she finally spoke. “I have a really busy week at work, so I don’t know if that’s the best idea,” Kassidy said.
“Okay. What about after work tonight? You can come here to the FBI office, or I could meet you somewhere.”
“I’m busy this evening,” she answered.
“What about tomorrow after work?” I asked. I knew I was being weirdly persistent, but for some reason, this woman got under my skin. I was beginning to suspect she’d been under there since Afghanistan. I still needed to see if she remembered me, but now wasn’t the time.
“I’m not sure if I’m available then.”
“Kassidy, it feels like you’re trying to avoid me,” I said, running out of patience. “I know you’re hiding something about Paradise Cruises, and I’m going to find out what it is one way or another. You can lie and try to pretend all you want, but you’re just digging yourself a bigger hole and making yourself look guilty. If that’s —.”
“Fine!” Kassidy interrupted me. I stayed quiet, and after a few moments, she finally told me the truth. “One of the men I mentioned from Paradise Cruises, William Reeves, asked me out after the meeting. I’ve gone on a few dates with him, to try and get more information about what they're doing. And I’ve put bugs in his car and in his office, to see if he admits anything.”
I ignored the fact that she’d bugged someone's car and office, at least for now. “Wait,” I told her. The name sounded familiar, but I needed a moment to remember exactly why. When it finally hit me, I was furious. “You mean William, one of the men you overheard talking about trafficking people who don’t speak English, asked you out. And you said yes.” When she didn’t respond, I continued. “How many dates have you gone on with him?”
“Three,” she admitted quietly. “And we’re going on another one tonight.”
My mind was reeling with everything she’d just admitted, and I was starting to regret pushing her for the information. Thinking of her going on dates with another man under false pretenses made me nauseous. The fact that she was putting herself in danger by spending time with a human trafficker was bad enough, but for some reason, the thought of her dating anyone bothered me more than it should’ve. Imagining another man’s hands on her had me seeing red.
“Please tell me this is a joke,” I pleaded with her.
“It’s not,” Kassidy answered, sounding regretful.
“Why would you do this?” I asked. I didn’t know what to think. “Do you actually want to date him? Do you have feelings for him?”
“No! He’s an awful person, and I despise him,” Kassidy said, and I heard the sincerity in her voice. “Have you seen American Psycho?”
That question was unexpected. “I’ve seen parts of it.”
“William is just like that guy. The psychopath who murders everyone,” she told me, and I was torn between laughing at the strange turn the conversation had already taken, and yelling at her because I was worried. I didn’t do either.
“Has he hurt you?” I asked, fighting to keep my voice calm.
“No,” she answered.
At that moment, I hated being so good at detecting when people were lying. Just from the inflection in her voice over the phone, I could tell that William had hurt her, or at least done something she didn’t like. Instead of calling her out on it, I decided to rephrase my question. “Has he put his hands on you?”
I heard something in the background, maybe someone talking to her in her office, and then she spoke again. “I’ve got to go, Evan.”
“You didn’t answer my question,” I said.
“I don't have an answer,” she replied. “I’ll let you know if I learn anything useful.”
“You don’t need to go on a date with him,” I said, trying to keep her on the phone, as if she’d be safe if she just stayed on the line a little bit longer. “If you’d just give me some time to investigate, I’ll catch these guys. You don’t have to put yourself in danger.”
“The people on those ships don’t have time,” Kassidy argued.