found other infractions to report over the years. Telling him about Gwen might have been impulse, might have been true belief, but the reward? It mattered to her. And yes, Gwen’s a focus now. A kind of personal investment. But with the terms, if she tells now, Gwen’s no longer of use.”
“Protect the investment. Maybe she even covers for Gwen a few times. But Ariel’s a real threat, and can blow up all those careful plans. The killing itself, impulse and rage. Up to then, she had things worked out. And Gwen messes it up again by going back in the morning.”
Eve walked back to the board. “She’s not worried about Byrd now. How would we tie her to the murder? She’s never met Byrd, can claim she was in the compound at the time of the murder. Can see that dozens swear to it.”
“But she wasn’t,” Peabody said.
“No. She was at the house her father lets her use, really only a handful of blocks away from Ariel’s apartment. Listening. She may have had a pickup—another recruitment scheduled—or planned to do some research on a new prospect.”
“She’d like having time in the house, her own space.” Mira recrossed her legs. “Come and go as she pleases, dress as she pleases. Taste the freedom.”
“Nothing tastes better,” Eve said, thinking of Gina.
“She’ll lose all of that if …”
Mira looked at Eve, got another nod.
“If she doesn’t have a way to take over Natural Order.”
“Kill her dad?” Even after all the rest, Trueheart looked shocked at the idea.
“Kill him, or, more likely, blackmail him. Turn it over to me, or I burn it to the ground. She needs the time, the money, more opportunities,” Eve added. “But I saw a cold, hard, ambitious woman who slipped on the good-daughter mask.
“They’re buying and selling human beings she helps find and abduct. Killing means nothing.”
“We gotta take them down.” Jenkinson jabbed a finger in the air.
“And we will. But they’re not just in Connecticut, not just in New York. There are other facilities, their farm system, and, essentially, their island.”
“Kick an anthill, the ants scatter. Some of that’s going to happen however right and tight we do this.”
“Baxter’s right on that. We’re not going to get them all, so we focus on essential areas. Utopia Island—sovereign nation aside—human trafficking, torture, slavery, those are all high crimes globally and off-planet. Abernathy with Interpol should be willing to assist and coordinate there.”
“I’ll contact him and his superiors,” Whitney told her.
“It has to be a coordinated op. Hit one area too soon, and more ants scatter from another. The farm system here in the States. I haven’t looked hard and close at that, but the FBI has data, and we use that, look hard and close and outline the operation on that. Jenkinson, you and Reineke take that, outline an op and be prepared to brief on same by …”
She glanced at the time, saw her day whizzing by. “By fifteen hundred.”
“Lieutenant.” Teasdale drew Eve’s attention. “I can have the task force that headed up our intel in that area take that assignment and be ready to brief.”
“That would be helpful. Will the FBI implement the operation on the farm system?”
“If the operational plan is deemed workable, has a high probability ratio of success, yes. I’ll read my director into this information as soon as this briefing concludes.”
“Good. I’m keeping my officers on Po, but will not pick her up until all ops are outlined and ready to implement. Meanwhile, we’ll get a search warrant for Po’s residence, her e’s. It’s probable she has useful information there. We will identify the Natural Order contact or contacts at the halfway house, and that’s likely part of Po’s useful information.
“Santiago, Carmichael, you’ll take that search. Feeney, can you send an e-man with them?”
“You got it.”
“If she comes back before we’re ready, I’d rather not tip her off. You keep the search tidy. We get a warrant for the Wilkey residence downtown. Baxter, Trueheart, and another e-man, Feeney. Same requirement. Do a heat sensor first, make sure it’s unoccupied.”
“If she’s in there?” Baxter asked.
“Let me know. We’ll find a way to get her out. The Huffmans’ residence—Jenkinson and Reineke. Warrants, searches.”
She spotted Yancy in the doorway.
“Sounds like you’re winding up. Didn’t want to interrupt.”
“You’re not, and not quite winding. Special Agents Teasdale and Conroy, Detective Yancy, police artist. You get any more faces?”
“Yes, sir, six more. Solid. I let them work together on the third. Sometimes one wit will remember some