No Escape (13 page)

“I’m afraid it goes much deeper than shady club escapades,” Tessa said in a low voice. “What kind of people would put a girl like Kelly to work as an escort or—or worse?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t found anything on a Kelly Martin in national missing persons databases yet. So we’ll have to pull all the missing girls named “Kelly” who are in their teens and check out each one. That’s going to take a while, assuming Kelly is even her name.”

“It is. I told you, the polygraph for that part of the interview showed no evasion or lying,” Tessa said.

“I hope so. Because every lie she’s told is just another obstacle to jump over. It’s a waste of our time. And that is one thing that could be running out for her,” Luke said.

“We have to keep pushing. I feel like this is an onion, and every time we manage to peel back a layer we find another one.” She gave a wobbly smile. “All that we have to show for it is a bad smell and tears.”

“Don’t lose faith, Swiss. I’m working as fast as I can.”

She took the comforting hand he offered her and tried to ignore the delicate shiver of awareness she felt when he wrapped his warm fingers around her chilled ones.

“I know you’re doing your best. We all are,” she said.

It would have to be enough.

Santa Monica, California

Monday afternoon, March 8

T
he following afternoon, Tessa was once again seated at her makeshift desk in Luke’s office. There were too many distractions in her own building, with coworkers popping their heads in to socialize and ask questions about the cases she’d transferred to them. So she had set up a temporary workstation inside Luke’s company and was making herself at home there.

That way, they would cut down on the commute and any time needed for updates. Since they were together all day, nothing happened to one that the other wasn’t aware of immediately.

While the arrangement did nothing for her nerves or her unwilling awareness of the chemistry building between the two of them, it was benefiting the case. And that was reason enough to continue working six feet away from Luke Novak.

Besides, Tessa rationalized to herself, it was obvious that her office at work wasn’t a safe place to keep important documents anymore. Luke had been pushing her to shift to his
building since he’d heard about the break-in at her office. Frankly, he’d worn her down.

Straightening the largest of her stacks of file folders, Tessa caught herself humming. Despite the stress of the last few weeks, she was more focused than she’d been in a long time. She was working hard on an important case that was going to make a difference in someone’s life. That knowledge gave her the strength to get up after only a few hours of sleep and the will to keep pushing against the wall of bureaucracy she was running into on a daily basis.

“I never would have guessed you were a slob by looking at you,” Luke said from across the room.

Tessa smiled complacently. “I know where everything is.”

Her cell phone rang, cutting off any reply Luke might have made. Still smiling, Tessa pulled her phone out of the charger and answered.

“This is Kelly.” The voice was tense and low, so that Tessa had a hard time hearing the girl.

“Are you all right?” Tessa’s voice was sharp with worry, bringing Luke out of his chair and over to her desk. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the bus station. I don’t have much time to talk, just wanted to tell you that I’m okay, and not to worry.”

“You disappeared from Three Sisters, and I haven’t heard a thing from you since—of course I’m worried.”

“I didn’t disappear. I just got tired of the place, so I called my cousin to come get me,” Kelly said.

“I know Jerry Kravitz isn’t your cousin. What kind of hold does he have on you?”

There was a long pause. “Look, I’m sorry for causing any trouble. I got mad at Jerry, and that’s why I made up the story about Sledge. Now I just want things to calm down so I can go back to my life.”

“What, as a stripper? Or maybe even a prostitute?” Tessa asked, ignoring the audible and pain-filled breath Kelly took. “We know all about what’s going on at Club Red. I’m
not giving up until you’re out of that situation and safely back home.”

Kelly was silent for so long that Tessa was afraid she’d hung up. “What’s your damage, lady?” There were angry tears in the girl’s voice now, and a stubborn determination that anyone familiar with teenagers knew meant trouble. “You’re not my mother, you’re not even my friend. Why can’t you leave me alone?”

“Prove to me that you’re okay. Meet me for coffee and let me see for myself,” Tessa said.

“No way. You’re crazy, like, obsessed or something. What I do with my life is none of your business. You’ll only make things harder for me if you keep trying to butt in where you’re not wanted.”

“Kelly, if you’re being pressured into doing this, I can help—”

“God, listen to yourself. You’re so prissy, you don’t even have a boyfriend. How would you understand? Why don’t you just get a life and leave me alone?” Kelly’s voice rose on the last word, then she hung up.

Tessa closed her cell phone with shaking fingers. Up until now, she’d been sure Kelly was being manipulated in some way. But the girl’s words before hanging up had been cruel and calculated. Anyone who could aim that well with verbal jabs didn’t win too many points in the sweet and innocent department.

“What did she say, Swiss?” Luke squatted in front of her chair and took her cold hands in his. He could see by her expression that the conversation hadn’t been pleasant.

“She said she was fine,” Tessa said. “She told me to leave her alone.”

“Where was she calling from?” Luke took her phone and scrolled through menus to pull up the number of the last caller.

“She said she was at the bus station. I guess she’s going home.”

“Let’s run a check on the number,” Luke said. He beeped MacBeth and gave him the information, then returned to Tessa’s desk. “I’m betting it won’t be from the bus station. What else did she tell you?” Luke asked.

Tessa looked up at him with shiny eyes. “She said to get a life and leave her alone. She made it sound like I was an obsessed stalker or something. Oh, and she seems to think I need a boyfriend to take my mind off her situation.”

“What was going on beneath the words?”

“What do you mean?”

“What was her tone of voice? Did it sound like she was alone? Could someone have been there pushing Kelly’s buttons?” Luke asked.

“Her voice sounded…strained. And I think she started crying after I mentioned prostitution. I could tell she was upset that I knew.”

“Okay, so that doesn’t make sense with what she’s saying, does it? If she were happy with the situation and wanted to be left alone to turn tricks, I’m willing to bet she’d give you some story about loving sex, how the money is great, stuff like that.”

Tessa swallowed around the gravel in her throat. “I read about that in some of the articles on teen prostitutes. That they tell themselves it’s a glamorous life, and they are in control of their bodies.”

“Did Kelly give you any of that attitude?” Luke prodded.

“No. She sounded tired. She got angry at the end, but it was more a hurt kind of angry than rebellious. At least that’s my impression—maybe I’m being blinded by my emotions. She certainly knew how to stick the knife in my back.”

“Don’t give up on her, Swiss. She may have been coached. You have to trust your instincts and what they tell you.”

“My instincts tell me to go get Kelly right now, wherever she is. But my brain says that at best I may have pushed her back into a very difficult situation.”

“And at worst?”

“I may have put her in real danger,” Tessa said.

“The only way to find out is to keep pushing. We’ll trace the number she called from, if possible. And we’ll keep looking for answers,” Luke said. He would have promised to do anything to put the color back in Tessa’s cheeks.

“Even if they’re not what we want to hear?”

“Sometimes those are the most important answers of all.”

Los Angeles, California

Thursday afternoon, March 11

“Q
uit whining,” Luke said. “I’m tired of talking to law enforcement agencies, too. But the information has been good enough that we can’t walk away.”

“Yeah, but when are we going to stop gathering information and actually do something with it?” Tessa grumbled.

“Have you been reading my cue cards? I’m supposed to be the one advocating action over analysis,” Luke teased.

“I’m beginning to think that you’re a sheep in wolf’s clothing—you talk like a cowboy, but underneath you’re as conservative as an underwriter.”

Luke chuckled. “Just don’t blow my cover with McKeltie and the FBI. He believes I’m one of the lucky ones who got out. In fact, I think he’s angling for a job, which is why he’s willing to share information with us off the record.”

He held the door of the Federal Building open and escorted Tessa through security and across the lobby. They were shown up to the office of Frank McKeltie, a senior Special Agent with the FBI. Luke’s networking over the previous few days had turned up the fact that McKeltie had
worked part-time on the task force investigating Club Red. He had recently been reassigned to take a leading role in another case, but still had up-to-date information on the FBI’s progress against Ricky Hedges.

The fact that McKeltie was reaching early retirement age and looking to get out of the Bureau gave Luke reason to hope he’d be extremely helpful. He wasn’t above dangling a Novak International job in front of McKeltie to encourage that spirit of cooperation. That prospect, combined with the knowledge that Tessa was Paul Jacobi’s daughter, should help smooth any issues that might arise from an FBI agent sharing information with others not officially involved with the investigation.

Luke greeted McKeltie and introduced Tessa. In turn, they were introduced to a female FBI agent who specialized in sex crime investigations, including interstate prostitution rings and teenage runaways.

“I asked Agent Beals to sit in on the discussion,” McKeltie said. “Once I heard that you were looking at the potential for teenage girls being involved in Club Red operations, I figured she’d be the best resource.”

Luke nodded and turned to Tessa. “It’s your show. Where do you want to begin?”

Tessa still had trouble adjusting to the fact that Luke didn’t mind turning the running of these interviews over to her. Most men—hell most everyone—she’d ever worked with had issues of territory, seniority, and good old-fashioned work-place competition. That meant that in nearly every case Tessa had worked with colleagues, she’d spent at least as much energy fighting her own team as working to solve the case.

The fact that Luke chose to sit back and play second fiddle from time to time was refreshing. Especially when he was actually more qualified and experienced than anyone she’d ever worked with except Ed. It spoke to his supreme self-confidence that he readily handed over the lead to her without worrying what others would think of him.

Unfortunately, she had always found confidence extremely attractive.

But there were enough potential land mines in Kelly’s case to keep Tessa occupied. She shouldn’t borrow trouble by continuing to think things like that about Luke Novak.

Aware that everyone was waiting for her response, Tessa cleared her throat. “I wanted to thank you for your time. While we aren’t sure if our investigation into Kelly Martin’s complaints is going to overlap the work of the task force, I think it would be wise to coordinate our efforts where possible. I’d hate to jeopardize an ongoing investigation of the FBI by pursuing a local case.”

Luke swallowed a grin at Tessa’s sincere tone. Right now, she was playing the self-deprecating novice, and Frank McKeltie was lapping it up. The FBI always liked to think that its investigations were more important than local law enforcement’s because the Bureau only dealt with serious federal crimes. Tessa was delicately acknowledging the tensions that existed between federal and local authorities on joint investigations, and at the same time letting the Feds know she wouldn’t dream of getting involved in their big, important case.

Luke didn’t believe it for a second. But it made for a good icebreaker, and Tessa knew it.

He wondered who had given her the idea that she somehow wasn’t capable of pulling her own weight, that her observations weren’t as worthy of attention as those of other team members. He knew better. While she lacked experience in some aspects of criminal investigations, she learned quickly and never made the same mistake twice. And her passionate dedication to the victim kept her going long after most would have quit. He couldn’t ask for more in a partner.

Plus her inexperienced prosecutor act tended to put other people off guard, as if they felt she offered no threat or competition to them. That would be very useful as he and Tessa
made their way through the law enforcement agencies investigating Ricky Hedges.

She continued, “It would be helpful for us to understand what activities at Club Red are under investigation, and what you think the larger ramifications might be.”

McKeltie opened a file in front of him. “I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you the relationship between organized crime and the high-end food service and entertainment industry here in LA.”

Tessa interrupted with a slight laugh. “I think it would be better to assume that I don’t know anything. That way you can explain it to me from your point of view.” She hesitated, wondering if she’d laid it on too thick. But if she had, McKeltie didn’t seem to care.

“The strip clubs, nightclubs, bars, and restaurants are a prime Mafia target for a couple of reasons. First of all, they need a lot of contract services—linens, dishwashing, garbage pickup, recycling, liquor, cigarettes—and some Mafia families are heavily involved in the provision of these services. Then there are the illegal services that we believe are offered at establishments like Club Red. The Mafia wants a cut of this action as well, both in the supply and sale. This includes prostitution, drug use, extortion, credit card abuse, and so on.”

Tessa knew this already, but nodded and took notes.

“Then there’s the fact that these are cash businesses. That makes it possible for the Mafia families to collect tributes without leaving an accounting trail. And, of course, there’s the whole money laundering angle.”

“Is that what you think is going on at Club Red?” Tessa asked.

“We hadn’t found any evidence of that on a large scale by the time I left, which was puzzling.”

“How so?” Luke asked.

“If they were laundering money at Club Red, it would
prove to us that the Ianelli Family is involved in operations there, because that’s the new focus of the LA branch of the family. But so far, nothing. At this point, we have to wonder what the Family would be getting from a possible relationship with Club Red.”

“What kind of revenues are we talking about?” Tessa asked.

“That’s tough to estimate,” McKeltie said. “We have a hard time proving where the illegal profits are coming from, and where they’re being hidden, because Club Red is a cash-based business. Ricky Hedges could be hiding all his profits in a secret stash somewhere. Or it could be in banks in Switzerland or the Caymans. We just don’t know at this point.”

“And you won’t until he tries to spend it, either as an individual or a corporation,” Luke said.

“Yes. That’s why we were looking for evidence of money laundering—it’s the only thing that would explain where the profits are going. So far, we’ve got nothing. No evidence of illegal profits, yet no evidence that he’s laundering profits, either. It’s a conundrum.”

“Could that be because there
are
no illegal profits on a large scale?” Tessa asked.

“That’s a possibility,” McKeltie admitted. “If that’s true, though, then the lack of capacity to absorb illegal profits is going to be a liability that holds back the growth of the Club Red empire.”

“Has anyone looked at the Ianellis in depth?” Tessa asked. “For example, if they are looking around for a business partner to launder their drug profits, wouldn’t that imply that Club Red isn’t willing or able to provide this service?”

McKeltie flipped through the file. “I hadn’t looked at it like that,” he said. “We’ve been looking for outflow from Club Red. But as far as I know the Ianellis are always eager for someone to launder their money, and Club Red falls in their turf. They aren’t major players in California organized
crime, and their volume is small enough that the other clans like the Russians and Chinese just leave them alone as long as they stick to their territory.”

“So if Club Red isn’t laundering money, and isn’t hiding illegal funds anywhere you guys have found, where do their profits come from?” Tessa asked.

“Aside from the nightclub revenues, so far it looks like smart and legal investments. We’ve pulled the club’s financial records for the last few years, and our team hasn’t found anything out of order.” McKeltie pulled a thick packet of paper out of his file. “I’ll admit, however, that by the time I left no one with a background in accounting had looked over the stuff. I think that’s in the budget for the next quarter, though.”

“Why has it taken so long to look over the books?” Luke asked. “No offense, but that seems like a first step.”

“It is. But you have to understand the challenges we at the FBI have faced since September 11. We’ve had our resources—which were always tight—reassigned on critical national security and antiterrorism projects. How do you argue for funds to go after a nightclub and small-time organized crime family operating in the Southwestern US when you have critical budget shortfalls and terrorists living inside the US? Cases have to be prioritized. To be honest, this investigation into Club Red has ended up simmering on the back burner for the last eighteen months.”

“Until it starts to boil over,” Tessa murmured.

“Exactly. It’s called brushfire management—nothing gets dealt with unless it’s a huge wildfire. Consequently, a lot of little fires get overlooked. Some die out, while others keep growing until one day they’re raging out of control,” Luke said.

Agent Beals spoke up. “That’s one of the reasons it’s so difficult for my division to get funds and manpower. Let’s face it—illegal prostitution just isn’t a high-level national security issue.”

“I know. It was one of the most frustrating things I dealt with at the sheriff’s department.” Luke glanced over at Tessa, who seemed to be lost in thought. He raised an eyebrow at her when she looked up.

“Would it be possible for me to see the financial records?” Tessa asked. “Maybe even keep a copy? I’m sure I won’t find anything, but it would be such a great learning experience for me.”

Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth,
Luke thought.

And the FBI just handed the papers over, confident that Deputy District Attorney Jacobi wouldn’t be able to find anything that would make them look bad.

“I’ll have a copy made before you leave. They’re public records, really, but I’m sure you’ll be discreet with them,” McKeltie said.

“Absolutely. Would you explain some of the terms?” Tessa asked.

As McKeltie spoke, Luke pulled his chair closer to Tessa’s, and they both flipped through the financial records for Club Red, Inc. He saw Tessa focus on the company’s declared assets and expenses, especially deductible ones.

“It looks like Ricky Hedges is quite the real estate entrepreneur,” she said slowly. “He’s made a lot of land purchases in the LA metro area. Is this a deduction on interest here?”

McKeltie nodded. “Real estate is a pretty standard way for these guys to gain respectability. They want to be able to put something like ‘property developer’ in the occupation section of their tax returns.”

Tessa met Luke’s eyes, and he could practically hear her brain processing the new information. He turned to the agents in order to buy her more time.

“What else do you have on Club Red and its operations?” Luke asked.

McKeltie watched Tessa devour the financial information. “I can’t share much more than what you have. I was pulled from the case two months ago to head up another investigation,
so I don’t know what the team has done since then. Do you two have anything that can help us?”

Tessa looked up and shook her head. “We’re not looking at any charges this serious. The FBI’s case is much bigger than ours. Right now we’re investigating an allegation of sexual assault, as well as forced prostitution. We’re not sure if the victim is a minor or not, or whether she’s actually a willing participant. It was only while we were investigating these charges that we realized some other things were going on at Club Red, where the victim in question was employed.”

“Didn’t you say on the phone that there was a high-profile element to your case?” McKeltie asked.

“The allegation of sexual assault has been made against Sledge Aiken, who is a professional football player. But so far, we haven’t turned up any real evidence to link the guy to Club Red, the Ianellis, or any criminal activity beyond the initial allegation,” Tessa said. “It’s been very frustrating. We can’t even prove an improper relationship with him and the victim beyond a reasonable doubt.”

Agent Beals spoke up for the first time. “If there is a prostitution or pandering operation set up, this athlete probably has nothing to do with it beyond being a client.”

“Can you tell me more about how these setups work?” Tessa asked. “I’ve been trying to understand how they are able to attract intelligent, pretty, middle-class girls into a life of prostitution. It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Usually the prostitution is the end stage in a fairly elaborate chain. I take it you want to focus on teenage prostitution?”

Tessa nodded. “Yes, the victim told us she was eighteen. We’ve recently been wondering if she might even be a minor. She came to California in search of a recording contract.”

Beals shook her head tiredly. “Recording contract, acting career, modeling—it doesn’t matter what these girls say they want. The fact that they want to break into an industry
that requires connections and thrives on exploitation makes them vulnerable.”