Zach introduces Vera Perch from State Patrol and Rex, who flashes everyone a wave, and then we settle into our chairs. Annette sets up her laptop while Zach pulls his trusty notebook from his chest pocket and clicks open his pen.
Everett carries his coffee to the front of the room. “First, I want to thank you all for coming. Let me reiterate a few facts so we’re all clear.” He sips from his mug. “Sons of Eden now have two separate sects. The main one in Miller’s Ferry, run by Otis Wakefield, and a newer one in Elk Flats, led by Otis’s forty-year-old son, Jerome. Thistask force will focus on Jerome and the Elk Flats compound. Last year, the Wakefields threw a lot of money into getting one of their puppets elected as sheriff of Finn River, so we believe their goal is to keep expanding.” His serious gaze sweeps the room. “We’re going to stop them.”
A charged silence follows, then Everett nods at me. “Why don’t you start, Rowdy, since I know you’ve got to get up north.”
I wince. Today I meet the kid I’m being forced to mentor for the next two months. He’s also in the running to take over my district when I retire next year.
I pat my pockets for my reading glasses, then remember they’re in my coat, which is…in the truck. Whatever, I have the information memorized.
From inside the file folder, I pass out a double-sided sheet of paper to everyone. “Forensic results from the state crime lab on evidence I collected during an illegal logging operation. I believe the two men are cult members.”
All eyes refocus on the printouts.
“They left a thermos and a chainsaw behind when they fled by snowmachine,” I add. The bullet I brought back is commonly used for deer hunting—a dead end unless we also obtain possession of the gun that fired it. “The state crime lab pulled DNA from the thermos. No match in CODIS, but there is a match to an open case?—”
Zach sits bolt upright, his eyes on the bottom of the paper. “Human trafficking?”
Everett mutters a curse, his brow deeply furrowed.
“Looks that way,” I say while handing out a second sheet of paper, this one with crime scene details from an unsolved trafficking investigation.
“I know this case,” Vera says with a grim set to her lips. “One of our troopers found an abandoned trailer at a rest area. The evidence inside indicated it was being used to transport people.”
She’s right about that. I saw the crime scene photos. Themakeshift bucket toilet, clothing, and cases of snack foods and jugs of water. “The DNA from the thermos matched evidence ISP collected from inside the trailer.”
To think I had beenthat closeto nabbing those two scumbags out at Crooked Pine Creek.
Annette glances over the lid of her laptop. “Any idea who was being trafficked?”
Vera sets her paper down on the table. “There wasn’t much to go on, and none of the evidence matched existing missing persons on file. We even expanded our search outside Idaho.”
“It’s possible they’re not US citizens,” Everett says.
Zach nods. “Or they’re from an underserved population.”
Rex taps his thumb on the table, his brow furrowed in thought. “There was a case a couple of years ago. Teen girls coerced from a group home. The case manager didn’t report them missing because those kids often become transient. They were taken across state lines. Sold into a trafficking ring.”
I huff a startled breath. “My god.” These are human beings, possibly children. Being sold and traded like animals. Like property.
“Do we think they’re bringing runaways into the cult, or is this one of their business ventures?” Vera asks.
“No way of knowing until we can get inside,” Everett replies, crossing his arms. He side-eyes Rex Rolland. “Or we get a judge to sign off on a wire.”
Rex raises an eyebrow. “Don’t look at me like that. Get me the proof that there’s a phone being used to coordinate criminal activity and you’ll get your wire.”
“Wakefield’s using a burner,” Zach says with a shake of his head. “We need him on a landline or cell we can tap.”
“Can we get eyes on him?” Luke asks, arching an eyebrow. “Maybe he’s using a particular location to run his operations. That might be a quicker way to bring in more intel.”
Zach and Everett exchange a quick glance. “That’s not a badidea,” Everett says while Zach starts scribbling in his notebook. “He owns that run-down diner. Maybe he’s stupid enough to use it like an office.”
“To do it we’ll have to fly under that sheriff’s radar,” Zach says.
Everett gives a scornful huff. “Maybe we’ll catch him too.”
Annette’s fingers fly over her keyboard. “I’m putting in a request for audio surveillance in the diner. I also think we should get some visuals on the compound. We need to start identifying the players, their movements.”
“Agreed,” Everett says. “But no tactical, okay? Eyes and ears only. There are kids in that compound.”