Read Online The Body Market: A Leine Basso Thriller by D.V. Berkom - Free Book Online
Authors: D.V. Berkom
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brightening. “You’re right.” He took her hand and guided her to sit next to him on the couch. “I noticed your bag next to the door. Are you going somewhere?”
Leine allowed herself to be led and sat down. “I’m leaving tonight. Josh’s phone was traced to an abandoned housing project outside of Tijuana.”
“Any leads on the car?”
“No. Some safety glass, but that’s it. There was blood on the ground, but results from the lab aren’t back yet so there’s not much to go on at the moment. The ICE agents who told us what happened said some higher-up in the local police department wasn’t too interested in pursuing the idea that a couple of rich kids from LA had been kidnapped and possibly murdered. They’re afraid it’ll slow the tsunami of partiers into the city.”
“So you get to go to TJ during spring break. Lucky you.”
“Yeah. Not so much. I figure I’ll check out the area where they found the kid’s phone, talk to the bartenders that were on staff that night, see if anyone recognizes them.”
“I know a DEA field agent who works out of there, if you want his information. He’ll be able to give you some tips or maybe a contact or two.”
“Sure. The more the merrier.” Leine stroked his cheek and leaned in for a kiss. “You hungry?” she asked. “I picked up some Pad Thai from the Green Onion.”
“Perfect.” With a smile, Santa slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her to him. The scent of his citrus and cedar aftershave enveloped Leine. She closed her eyes and inhaled, giving herself over to the sensory overload that always accompanied a kiss from the smoldering detective. After a few moments, she put her hand on his chest and drew back with an apologetic smile.
“Much as I’d love to stay and play, I need to eat dinner and get on the road.” She took both of his hands in hers and stood up, pulling him to his feet. “The faster I go, the faster I can come back.”
Brief disappointment skated across his features but was soon replaced by a wicked smile. He leaned in close and whispered, “Fast is good, but only when it’s you coming back.”
***
The border crossing was busy but not as crowded as during daylight hours. To make things easier, Leine walked across and picked up her nondescript SUV from the rental agency, drove downtown, and parked at a secure parking lot near the Blue Manatee. It was still early by Tijuana standards—only eight thirty—and the party atmosphere hadn’t yet kicked into high gear. Bouncers stood outside of bar entrances shilling for early arrivals, hoping to entice them with promises of scantily clad women, cheap booze, and pulsing laser light shows.
Leine knew if she walked into any one of the “Gentlemen’s” clubs in the border town she’d have a good chance of finding several women who had been trafficked in some form or another. Security was tight in these places, and unless she wanted to stir up a hornet’s nest of pissed-off cartel members and protection racketeers, Leine would have to avoid them. The women themselves were often drugged or beaten or both, with their identification confiscated by their handlers to ensure compliance. Many refused to accept offers of help for fear their families would be targeted, or they’d be hunted down and dragged back to work, or even killed for their trouble. Others believed their lifestyle was the best they could hope for, or were too addicted to see beyond the syringe or pipe in their hand.
The problem didn’t have an easy, one-size-fits-all solution.
Leine admired the agencies that worked tirelessly to win over the women, to convince them they were worth more than what they’d been brainwashed to believe by the ruthless men and women who controlled their destinies. Diplomacy and patience were not words Leine would use for her approach to the scum-sucking parasites who ruled the sex trafficking underworld. Hand grenades and a flamethrower made more sense.
The sights and
Leine allowed herself to be led and sat down. “I’m leaving tonight. Josh’s phone was traced to an abandoned housing project outside of Tijuana.”
“Any leads on the car?”
“No. Some safety glass, but that’s it. There was blood on the ground, but results from the lab aren’t back yet so there’s not much to go on at the moment. The ICE agents who told us what happened said some higher-up in the local police department wasn’t too interested in pursuing the idea that a couple of rich kids from LA had been kidnapped and possibly murdered. They’re afraid it’ll slow the tsunami of partiers into the city.”
“So you get to go to TJ during spring break. Lucky you.”
“Yeah. Not so much. I figure I’ll check out the area where they found the kid’s phone, talk to the bartenders that were on staff that night, see if anyone recognizes them.”
“I know a DEA field agent who works out of there, if you want his information. He’ll be able to give you some tips or maybe a contact or two.”
“Sure. The more the merrier.” Leine stroked his cheek and leaned in for a kiss. “You hungry?” she asked. “I picked up some Pad Thai from the Green Onion.”
“Perfect.” With a smile, Santa slipped his hand behind her head and pulled her to him. The scent of his citrus and cedar aftershave enveloped Leine. She closed her eyes and inhaled, giving herself over to the sensory overload that always accompanied a kiss from the smoldering detective. After a few moments, she put her hand on his chest and drew back with an apologetic smile.
“Much as I’d love to stay and play, I need to eat dinner and get on the road.” She took both of his hands in hers and stood up, pulling him to his feet. “The faster I go, the faster I can come back.”
Brief disappointment skated across his features but was soon replaced by a wicked smile. He leaned in close and whispered, “Fast is good, but only when it’s you coming back.”
***
The border crossing was busy but not as crowded as during daylight hours. To make things easier, Leine walked across and picked up her nondescript SUV from the rental agency, drove downtown, and parked at a secure parking lot near the Blue Manatee. It was still early by Tijuana standards—only eight thirty—and the party atmosphere hadn’t yet kicked into high gear. Bouncers stood outside of bar entrances shilling for early arrivals, hoping to entice them with promises of scantily clad women, cheap booze, and pulsing laser light shows.
Leine knew if she walked into any one of the “Gentlemen’s” clubs in the border town she’d have a good chance of finding several women who had been trafficked in some form or another. Security was tight in these places, and unless she wanted to stir up a hornet’s nest of pissed-off cartel members and protection racketeers, Leine would have to avoid them. The women themselves were often drugged or beaten or both, with their identification confiscated by their handlers to ensure compliance. Many refused to accept offers of help for fear their families would be targeted, or they’d be hunted down and dragged back to work, or even killed for their trouble. Others believed their lifestyle was the best they could hope for, or were too addicted to see beyond the syringe or pipe in their hand.
The problem didn’t have an easy, one-size-fits-all solution.
Leine admired the agencies that worked tirelessly to win over the women, to convince them they were worth more than what they’d been brainwashed to believe by the ruthless men and women who controlled their destinies. Diplomacy and patience were not words Leine would use for her approach to the scum-sucking parasites who ruled the sex trafficking underworld. Hand grenades and a flamethrower made more sense.
The sights and
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