Exposing Ethan (Cassidy Kincaid Mystery Book 4)

immediately. Only he wasn’t smiling.
“Bo Min. Works at the port by day but is connected to several businesses we believe are involved in money laundering. Grew up in Chinatown, parents run several restaurants there. His record is peppered with illegal activity. Car theft, street racing, possession of stolen goods. All pretty minor, actually, considering the crew he hangs out with.
“Two years ago, a red flag came up. He started raking in a lot more money than the average port employee. We think it’s because he was coerced into working for the Organization. He plays several key roles. One is he’s able to use his knowledge at the port to fast-track their shipments through customs, and he uses his restaurant connections to find businesses they can use for money laundering.” He advanced the slide to a new image, this one of Bo exiting an alley, his eyes gazing slyly to the side. “Also, his father has a gambling problem.”
“I don’t understand,” Cassidy said.
“It’s leverage,” Special Agent Harris said, leaning on her forearms. “Bo pays his dad’s debt, which keeps him alive. If anything happens to Bo, like jail, then his father gets thrown to the sharks.”
“Hang on a second,” Quinn said, letting go of Cassidy’s hand. “When you say ‘shipment,’ are we talking about people?” He frowned. “There’s people in those containers?”
The room fell silent.
“Sometimes as many as a hundred are packed in there, most of the time children,” Special Agent Santiago said.
She heard Quinn moan in anguish. “That’s sick.”
Cassidy tried to imagine a week or more of living in a metal box with no bathroom on a boat that pitched and yawed, but it was too awful.
“If we can flip Bo, he can tip us off. We can not only intercept shipments but connect them to the next link in the chain.”
The next image on the screen sent ice needles down her spine.
“Here’s our henchman.”
Cassidy stared into Saxon’s cold eyes.
“We had his clubs under surveillance but had no probable cause until Cassidy’s interview. He’s been very good at keeping clean. Even from Mexico, he’s likely still pulling the strings.”
Cassidy heard the strain in his voice, and grimaced. I’m the reason he’s not in jail right now, she thought.
“We think he sets up the meets. Fixes what needs fixing.”
Like murder? she wanted to say as a chill crawled up her spine.
Cassidy remembered her slow realization that Saxon had tricked her into believing Izzy was in that neighborhood. Good luck, Dr. Kincaid, looks like you’re going to need it.
“Though we don’t have any record of Saxon working with Bo and his gang, we suspect there’s a link. There has to be. Bo’s crew gets the can out of the port, then delivers it to some location. From there, Saxon’s crew puts them into service.”
“Service?” Cassidy said, her stomach swirling. “You mean slavery.”
A short moment passed before Special Agent Harris replied with a simple, “Yes.”
“What we need is to get close to Saxon, but he’s been extremely careful. Bo could be the link we need. We’re waiting on approval for a wiretap, but he’s likely using burners. To nail him, we’ll need physical evidence, or to catch him in the act.”
Cassidy exhaled a tight breath. “Do you think that’s possible?”
“With your help, absolutely,” Special Agent Harris said.
Special Agent Santiago rose and turned on the lights.
“Do you think there’s anything to the teen runaway clinic being part of this?” Cassidy asked as the image of Brad’s boyish face returned to her mind.
“We’re looking into it,” Special Agent Harris said. “It opens up a web of complications, so we’re proceeding very carefully.”
Cassidy frowned. What kinds of complications?
“Okay, let’s take a short break,” Special Agent Harris said, standing. “Then we’ll walk you through the call.”
After the task force agents left, Bruce walked over to the water bottles in the corner and pulled three from the plastic wrapper.
“Can I get you guys anything else?” he asked, handing each of them a bottle.
Cassidy shook her head.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks,” Quinn said, cracking the lid of his water.
“Feel free to head outside for some air. I know this is a lot.”
Quinn pushed back from his chair. “Yeah, maybe I will.” He glanced at Cassidy.
“Go ahead,” Cassidy said, sipping from her water.
Quinn gave a nod, then stepped from the room.
Bruce leaned partway onto the tabletop. “How are you holding up?”
Cassidy tugged at the label on her water bottle. “Okay.”
“I wish you didn’t have to do this.”
Cassidy gave up on the wrapper and set her bottle down on the table. “What if Saxon comes out of hiding and is at the meeting, if it even happens?”
“We would never send you in there.”
Her anxious mind switched gears. “What did she mean by ‘complications’?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe there’s some sensitive information regarding the clinics that she can’t share.”
“Sensitive how?”
Bruce ran a hand through his thick hair. “Maybe they’re attached to someone important. Maybe the clinics provide an important service to the community, and we don’t want to disrupt that unless we’re sure.”
“A service to the community?” Cassidy said, her temper flaring. “Bruce, how is coercing runaways into the sex trade a service to the community?”
“Just think about it for a sec,” he said, flashing the palm of his hands, as if to slow her down. “I’m only guessing here, but if Brad is right, and I’m not even saying he is, there’s like twenty free clinics in this city. If a clinic forced all of its teen patients into the sex trade, don’t you think word would get out, and we would have heard something about it?”
Cassidy realized that he was right.
“If this is true, they must be very selective, and very careful.” Bruce set down his water bottle. “Imagine if you were a teen living on the streets, and you had a friend that visited one of these clinics but you never saw them again. Those kids are smart. Word would spread.”
“Maybe they don’t force the kids. Maybe they choose.”
Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Now you’re thinking like a detective.”
The door opened and