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The drones had done their job, showing mapped tunnels spanning miles in all directions through, around, and in El Paso. Every one of them began on the other side of the border. And every one of them would be destroyed by the end of the week.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Wow, nice neighborhood,” said Brooke. “These homes are beautiful.”
“It’s probably why Sutton never knew about the house. If he ever knew about the half-sister, or if he found out, he probably suspected his wife would buy something small and unassuming. Fooled his ass,” smirked Matt.
“There. The one with the black shutters,” said Eazee.
They pulled into the driveway, stepping out of the vehicle, and walking the beautifully landscaped path to the door. The yard was immaculate with well-maintained plants, flowers, and shrubs. The grass appeared to be freshly cut.
Brooke rang the doorbell, waiting for someone to answer. When an older woman opened the door, they thought they had the wrong address. Her white hair was pulled back in a bun, a few strands blowing free. She wore a pair of white capri pants with a pretty pink blouse and a pair of pink sandals.
“May I help you?” she asked with a nice smile.
“Carol Todd?” asked Brooke.
“That’s right. Do I know you?”
“No, ma’am. But we know your niece.”
She gasped, clutching her throat, pulling Brooke into the house. The men followed as she shut the door and locked it.
“Where is she?”
“She’s safe, ma’am. But we have some questions for you. Does Green Sutton know where you live?”
“No. He barely knew of my existence. My sister didn’t want me to be put in any danger, so she always acted like I was an annoyance around him. We are half-sisters, sharing the same father, but it didn’t matter. We loved one another.”
“She sounds wonderful,” smiled Brooke.
“She was,” nodded Carol. “I was older. From my father’s first marriage. We didn’t have much as children, but what we had, we shared. Our father came into money later in life. We had a small dirt farm that wasn’t worth anything on the outskirts of the city. Then, one day, our father was digging a new well and found more than he bargained for. Oil. Barrels and barrels of oil.
“We were each given a trust fund and allowed to do what we wanted. When I married, I had to dig into mine when my husband was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. I took care of him for years. Happy to spend every penny I had, but my sister made sure to help when she could.
“Despite suddenly having wealth, when my sister met Green, he swept her away. Clothes, jewelry, fancy restaurants, and cars. I knew something was wrong, and I warned her.”
“What did she say?”
“She said that he gave her a job. An easy job that only required her taking things across the border. I knew what he was doing, but she didn’t want to see it. When Morgan was born, everything changed. Finally, she could see what I was seeing, and she was afraid for them both. So was I.
“It was as if Green had something to hold over her head. I think she was relieved when he suggested they move out of the mansion. But I knew that no man would want to leave that beautiful home unless there was a reason. Our father worked his fingers to the bone, doing back-breaking labor to build that house himself. It was important to him that he leave it to us. It meant everything to the two of us. I couldn’t live there with my husband because of his illness, so I was more than happy to let her live in it. I had enough. More than enough.”
“Were you aware that he had things hidden below the mansion?” asked Eazee. Carol frowned, shaking her head.
“No. There’s not a basement.”
“He dug tunnels and found an underground spring. He was storing weapons down there,” said Matt.
“I go up to the house once a week to dust. There’s nothing there. No furniture, no drapes, nothing, but my sister was smart enough to place it in the trust that the house would be cared for and maintained.
“The attorney’s office hires someone to maintain the grounds and the upkeep of the house, but I wanted to at least do something for her. So, my therapy is to go up there and spend the day with my little dust mop and make sure there are no dust bunnies,” she said with a sad smile, wiping her eyes.
“Have you heard any rumors of him running women, children, and weapons into the states?” asked Eazee.
“It’s not rumors, son. He’s doing it, and he owns every official here. I went all the way to Washington, D.C., to speak with someone at the FBI, and all they said was that someone was working on it. Working on it! How could they be working on it when he owns everyone.”
“How? How does he own everyone?” asked Brooke.
