Jonah (Chicago Blaze 7)

“Sorry about that,” Doug says. “Kid’s a rookie with a lot to learn, but he’s a math whiz and believe it or not, he does good work—with supervision.”

“It’s no problem.” I shake his hand, liking him already.

“I’m Logan West,” the other guy at the table says, coming over to shake my hand as well. “We appreciate you coming to help work this case.”

“I’m glad you asked me to come.” I set my bag on the conference table and slide into a chair. “From what I read in the file during my flight, this could be a really big case.”

Logan nods. He’s about to sit back down when he pauses. “Can I get you some coffee? Water?”

“I’m good, thank you.” I look across the table to Sgt. Jones, who is taking his seat. “Are we waiting on anyone else before we get started?”

“We’ve got others coming later. This is Detective West’s case. I’m just here because I’m helping coordinate resources for him. Our Investigations Deputy Chief is in a budget meeting or he’d be here right now, but he’s been fully briefed. I thought we’d have Detective West get you up to speed on the case and then go from there.”

“Sounds good,” I say.

Logan seems to decide against sitting back down. He walks over to the big white board on the conference room wall.

“I think better when I can write,” he explains, picking up a dry erase marker. “We’ve been gathering intel on this guy for a few months now.”

He writes the name “Darren Shields” in neat block letters.

“Darren Shields is a billionaire who owns an investment company. He buys businesses, real estate, pretty much anything he thinks he can make money on. This guy is super connected, in Chicago and all over the world. He’s got politicians in his pocket and unlimited resources.”

I nod. “So you’re taking your time with him, building an airtight case.”

“Exactly.”

Logan is tall and lean, with short brown hair and blue eyes. He seems to have a good disposition for detective work. I can already tell he could answer just about any question I throw out about Darren Shields.

“Shields mostly moves between his apartments in Chicago, New York and London,” Logan continues, scrawling the names of each city on the board. “He also has a place in Hollywood that he rarely visits. And once or twice a month, he heads to his compound in Bermuda for a few days at a time.”

Logan circles “Bermuda” on the board and sets the marker down on the attached tray, putting his hands in the pockets of his suit pants.

“His Bermuda compound is the location of his sex trafficking operation,” he says. “Girls and boys as young as ten. We have very limited access to information about specifics, like how many.”

“So no CIs,” I surmise.

A confidential informant would probably make Logan’s case. I’m guessing helping him get one is where I come in.

“Not yet,” he says. “This case is bigger than it even looks.”

“Looks pretty fucking huge to me,” I say.

“There are some very big fish going in and out of that compound. We’ve kept the details of this case locked down, limited to only those who need to know. That numbnuts rookie who brought you in here knows nothing about this case, only that you’re a federal agent here to assist on a case.”

I put up a hand. “If you’re trying to tell me not to divulge anything to anyone, don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

“I know you do, and I mean no disrespect,” Logan says. “It’s just that I’ve been working this case hard for a long time now, and the shit just seems to go deeper and deeper. I want this guy. I want all of them, honestly. Every filthy fucker who’s ever set foot on that hellhole of a compound.”

“Good. I do, too. And I’m at your disposal. However long you need me, whatever you need me to do. I’ll be working undercover, right?”

Logan nods, and I see the wheels in his mind start turning. He walks over to a manila folder on the conference table and slides it toward me.

“You’ll be working as Renee Carlisle, a freelance writer who does articles for beauty and fashion magazines. Figured your friends could call you Rey with that name. I’ve already generated some articles under the name Renee Carlisle with time stamps going back a little over two years.”

I arch a brow and smile. “So you know your beauty products, Detective West?”

The first sign of a smile from him plays on his lips. “Not at all. I had help. More on that later.”

I pinch my brows together, thinking out loud. “So do you want me to try to form a personal relationship with Shields?”

“Yes, but you’ll have help.”

I look over at him. “Sorry, I’ll let you finish before I ask questions.”