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“That isn’t an easy answer. I’m inclined to say yes because Sadie wasn’t presented with a choice.”
Shit.
“So she’s being held prisoner by those bikers?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.”
“When?” I asked, sick of the endless wait.
“Tonight.” He coughed, lowering his voice. “Listen. I shouldn’t be telling you all this, but I don’t want you to lose hope. I’m finding Sadie. With any luck, I’ll be bringing her home after the raid.”
“What if those bikers are waiting for you?”
“It’s a possibility I’ve already considered and have covered.”
I didn’t need to know the specifics. One thing bothered me, though. “Why didn’t this footage show up sooner?”
“Do you know how many clubs and bars there are in Las Vegas?” He chuckled without humor, clearing his throat. “Took longer than I wanted, but we’ve got what we needed. There’s enough here for a search warrant for Elliot’s properties, the Dirty Death MC compound, and their known affiliates. It’s a big break in the case, Callie.”
He sounded tired. I imagined he hadn’t slept much since Sadie disappeared. I know I didn’t.
I woke up constantly every night, leaving my bed and staring out the sliding glass doors overlooking my back patio and the starry sky, wishing she would show up and end this nightmare.
“I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” I replied finally, biting my lower lip as I tried not to focus on all the things that could go wrong.
“You should try. It’s going to be a long night.”
As if that would change a single thing. “I’ll keep the coffee on.”
He understood. “Once I have news, good or bad, I’ll let you know.”
“And if my sister isn’t there?”
“We’ll get the information we need on Sadie and the other missing women. You have my word.”
I didn’t envy Agent Phillips or the feds. This case was making headlines on every social media outlet imaginable. People were skittish. Some protested outside the mayor’s office in downtown Henderson. City Hall had been bombarded with advocacy groups demanding justice. Wherever I went, I heard people talking about the missing women and the reality of human trafficking in our city. Unfortunately, this was an issue long before the mayor got involved.
“I’ll be waiting,” I announced, ending the call.
The printer finished the flyers, and I picked the massive pile up, dividing the stack into several bins for the interns to sort.
Hours later, Bree sat with me on a leather couch, reviewing the files she found in the mayor’s office. He’d left the door to his safe ajar, and she’d found a ton of incriminating evidence. Skeptical, I had to wonder if the files she found were planted. It seemed too easy.
“I didn’t have time to look at what I copied from his computer. I’ll go over it later at home when I don’t have to look over my shoulder.”
Good plan.
“I don’t know what I’ll find on the USB drive, but the safe I found was full of cash, stacks of documents, and several file folders like he stuffed it all inside in a hurry. Elliot has identification records for some of the employees, receipts for several different Casinos, and photos. Lots of photos.”
“What kind?”
“Blackmail photos. Has to be. Look.”
She flipped through the stack, showing me shots of a motorcycle club called the Devil’s Murder MC.
I frowned. “There are two motorcycle clubs in Henderson?”
Bree shrugged. “Appears so. I know there’s the Dirty Death MC too. I’ve seen them pop up often in the mayor’s correspondence. I think he has some kind of longstanding deal with them.”
