“You get used to it.”
Noah went around to the trunk, took off his jacket and shirt, and slipped on the thinnest available Kevlar vest over his undershirt. Then he buttoned back up and put on his jacket.
“I hope we don’t need them,” Noah said.
“If Leo Musgrove has been involved for years, and this brothel is connected to the house in Freer, he’ll know the people in Siobhan’s photographs. We need to find the woman.”
“You think she’ll cave? Did you get that just from her photo?”
“No—I think she’s in charge. Or is close to who’s in charge. When I was looking through the photos again, I couldn’t help but notice how the men deferred to her. It was subtle, the way they stood, they way they treated her as if she were their mother or someone of importance. The way she held her head—as if she owns everything in her path.”
“Okay, I can accept that. I trust your judgment.”
“Thanks.”
“Lucy, we’ve worked together often enough that you don’t need to thank me.” He smiled as they walked around the corner to a dive bar over which Musgrove lived. “We check the bar first, then go upstairs. Be alert—if he bolts, you take the back.”
As soon as they walked into the bar, they were made—two men sitting in the corner, neither of whom was Musgrove, slipped out the back.
Musgrove was at the bar drinking coffee, his back to the door, but he locked eyes with Noah in the mirror. Then he glanced at Lucy. Assessing both of them. He slowly rose from his seat and walked across the bar, past Noah and Lucy, and toward the back.
“Mr. Musgrove,” Noah said.
He didn’t stop. He didn’t run or slow, he just kept going.
Noah nodded to Lucy, who ran back out the front and sprinted to the alley. She encountered the two men who’d left getting into a beat-up truck. She ignored them, even though she felt them watching her as they pulled out of the rutted dirt parking lot. Her instincts, always knowing when someone was staring at her, had saved her ass many times. This time it didn’t matter; the truck drove off.
Musgrove exited and walked right over to Lucy. “You trying to get me killed? Walking in like you own the place?”
Lucy stood her ground, keeping his hands in view. He was likely carrying.
Noah was right behind him. “Leo Musgrove, we need to talk.”
“What do a couple of feds want with me?” He was jittery. “People will think I’m a snitch. And right now, being a snitch will get you dead. Who told you where I was?”
Of course he’d pegged them as feds, even before they ID’d themselves. Criminals had a sixth sense about cops.
“I’ll put cuffs on you, make it legit,” Noah said.
“Fuck that.” He was backing away from them, not overtly looking for an escape route, but he definitely didn’t want to be talking to them.
“You run, we’ll haul your ass in,” Noah said. “It’s too fucking hot out here to play this game.” He motioned toward the bar. The back wall was shaded. “Against the wall, Musgrove.”
He was weighing his options.
Noah stepped toward him. “I’m in much better shape than you are, Leo. Wall. Now.”
Leo swore and backed against the wall.
“Turn around.”
He complied.
Noah searched him. Removed a knife and a small gun. Slipped them into his pocket. “Turn around.”
“I’d better get those back,” Leo said. “I’m no longer on probation, I can carry a fucking gun.”
Noah said, “Eight months ago you moved a small group of young women, ten to twelve of them, into the brothel on Seventh Street that was subsequently shut down after an investigative reporter exposed a bunch of cops and politicians using the place. But before that, the whole place came to a halt for three days while these girls were there. Who did you move them for and where did they go?”
Leo stared at Noah like he was asking him to drink cyanide.
“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
Lucy handed Noah the thin folder with photos of Marisol and Ana.
Noah showed Leo the de la Rosa sisters. “Seen them?”
Leo didn’t even look at the photo. “No.”
“Look again.”
Leo waved his hand over the photo in dismissal. “Girls like them are a dime a dozen. In and out, working girls. I don’t know who they are, what they do, nothing. Nothing. Got it?”
Definitely protesting too much. Out of fear or because he was protecting someone?
“These girls were taken from Monterrey, Mexico. Which means this falls under border security issues. The fact that ICE and the FBI just captured a dozen Syrians over the last two weeks coming in from Mexico—three of whom are on the terror watch list—means that I can hold you indefinitely if I believe that you’re bringing known terrorists into the States.”
“Those girls are terrorists?” Leo laughed. “Right.”