Chapter 46: Needles and Haystacks

Rebecca

Sending Rod along with Paul to interview the Pena girl's family had turned out to be a very good idea. The parents' English was sketchy and they dropped in and out of Spanish. They had decided ahead of time that Rod would play interpreter to Paul's agent. When he introduced Paul as being with the FBI they were openly nervous but when he said they were there about Maria the door opened wide and they were ushered inside. Apparently the locals had been less than enthusiastic in their pursuit of the case. They had asked some questions, taken some notes and told the Pena's that they would be contacted when they had more to go on, and that was it. Mrs. Pena wept openly and begged Paul to find whoever had done this to her baby. Paul assured her that we would do everything we could. The parents answered every question, even bringing Maria's brother and sisters in to tell what they knew about her life away from home.

Did she have a boyfriend? Her little sister rolled her eyes and said, "Boyfriend? More like boyfriends. She had her own posse. All the boys wanted to date Maria. She had a reputation for being easy. Sorry Momma but she was. Where do you think she kept getting all that stuff? It was like a contest. Whoever bought her the nicest gift got a date, and you always had a good time on a date with Maria."

No one had noticed any strangers suddenly being around; none of the hopeful boyfriends seemed to be jealous or angry about the situation. No one would ever even think of getting physical with her or all the others would kill him. That's if she didn't do it herself.

They thanked the family for their assistance and headed over to see the locals. They asked to see the officer in charge of the case and got the runaround until Rod flashed his ID and insisted on seeing someone who knew what the hell was going on. This moved them from the lobby into a private room with a surly Lieutenant who made it clear that they did not need or welcome outside interference with their case. When they asked to see the latest reports they were politely informed that no information could be shared without consent from the chief of police himself and he would not be in until tomorrow. It was easy to see why the Pena's were so happy to see someone, anyone, doing something.

Vegas turned out to be a whole different set of problems. The field office in Las Vegas walks a very fine line. They know who the bad guys are, and the bad guys know who they are and everyone works real hard to make sure they don't ever have a reason to spend any time together. On the one hand the office was very up to date on just about anything that happened involving any of the major players in the area. On the other hand, many of the more serious problems had a way of disappearing before the local office found out about them, and of course witnesses were a myth propagated by other departments to make them look bad. In Vegas, there was no such thing as an eye witness. But they knew the name Amanda Watkins. Her body had been found by the cleaning staff of one of the larger casinos. A team of maids had gone in to prep one of the big VIP suites for an arriving 'special guest' and discovered the girl apparently asleep on the bed, fully clothed. One of them tried to shake her awake and it went rapidly down hill from there. The poor girl had been in therapy for two months trying to deal with touching a dead body.

Casino security is about as high tech and up to date as you can get. Sure, you can get in and out okay, but not without being seen. Cameras record everything; the hallways, bathrooms, public areas, restaurants, elevators, even the rooms. Special computers monitor the guest areas for any sounds that could be a problem. If a computer flagged a room a high level security 'associate' was available to authorize activating hidden cameras in the rooms to make sure nothing too bad was happening. 'Too' bad leaves a lot of room, especially in a VIP suite where just about anything goes and the people involved are given lots of leeway to enjoy their private entertainments.

It was touch and go for a while between the casino in question and the local field office. A dead body in a VIP suite is not the kind of publicity a big casino wants. The fact that she was not killed there but rather dumped there complicated things even more. Insinuations of 'inside assistance' were tossed around. How else did someone get a dead body into a locked and secured VIP suite without being caught on any of the cameras, tripping the room alarm, or being seen by any of the several hundred employees on duty at the time? The local office wanted detailed information, including prints and DNA on everyone employed there, including security staff. Most of the staff was not a problem. High level "associates", however, tend to be, oh, let's say that their records are less accessible. In some cases they don't exist at all. Not just the records but the people. Sure, a lot of people see them around from time to time, but they don't know their names or what exactly they do, and they don't want to. No one died but there was a sudden rash of employees showing up after falling in the bathtub, down a flight of stairs, into the bushes while jogging... Casinos had a lot more leeway when it came to internal investigations than law enforcement offices do. The local office had a choice of letting them do the job or forcing a power play. The long-term repercussions would be significant.

Eventually both the local and federal CSIs hit the wall. Unless the police came up with solid evidence to go on the casino was not turning over anything that could come back to bite them. So the case was filed in 'unsolved' by both departments. The casino would still carry on their internal investigations. This kind of thing should not have been possible and they wanted to know how it had happened so they could make damn sure it never happened again. The results of that investigation were never released to either Vegas PD or the local FBI office. Whatever the casino discovered they were keeping it to themselves. The local branch suspected an inside accomplice. How else do you get around that kind of security? So I did what any good agent would do at a time like this. I called a friend.

A very professional voice answered, "Mr. Girard's Office."

"Hi, Shirley, it's Becka Hampton, how's things on the shore?"

"Rebecca! Oh, it's so good to hear from you. Tell me you have good news."

"I wish I could Shirl, there has been some change and it's the good kind but we're not there yet."

"Oh darn, I so hoped you were calling to tell us our prayers were answered. Well, I'll just tell all the girls to keep praying. What can I do for you?"

"Is Rico in?"

There was a pause. "Rebecca, this isn't an official call is it?"

"No, I would have told you up front if it was. More like an unofficial call, off the record. Is he in?"

"Officially, no. Unofficially, he's in conference."

"Interviewing a new maid?"

"Rebecca, shame on you! Actually he's in with Manny and Charlie. Brazil is tied 1-1 with Mexico, 8 minutes to play in overtime. Mexico was favored by two and they're covering Brazil to a two point spread." She dropped to a whisper, "If it were the maid, I'd put you through. How important is it?"

I laughed. "It's not that important, Shirl, just ask him to call me when it's over. So how're your mom and 'The Bull?'"

"Oh, you know them; if they weren't so madly in love they would have killed each other decades ago. We're planning a 50^th for them year after next, God willing. Think you can make it?"

"Wouldn't dream of missing it, let's see, they got married on Halloween didn't they?"

Shirley roared laughter at that one, "Oh, Rebecca! I'm going to tell them you said that. You know very well it was Valentine's Day, you send them a card every year. So you'll come?"

"Of course I'll come. Well, you know what I mean; I'll request vacation and hope I'm not up to my ass when the time comes. Hey, how about if I have someone dummy up a fake birth certificate for Felicia and arrest the old buzzard for robbing the cradle?"

She roared again, "Oh Rebecca! You are too much! That would be great! Could you?"

"Sure, and I'll hire a couple of male strippers to dress up as my backup."

"You would do it too, wouldn't you, bad, bad girl. Mom would have a heart attack right there in ball room."

"Oh, I'm sure she'd make a scene alright, but I doubt she's the one who would need the paramedics."

"Well, there is that. Listen, sweetie, I have to go, I've got some asshole coming up the elevator, I'll have Mr. G call you as soon as the game is over. Give Amy my love."

"I will, Shirley, it's good to talk to you again. I'm putting it on my calendar but send me an invitation anyway. Tell the family I said hi."

I hung up and went back to reviewing the file on Amanda Watkins. Looking for anything else that would help build a profile on our killer. Searching for a few common threads, anything that we might somehow be able to pull into a pattern to help us find him. Physically the girls all shared certain characteristics. All were young but of legal age, they had each turned 18 within four months of their deaths. All were athletic, and not just athletic but stars in their respective sports. Strong physically, aggressive, self-assured, and all were good students. These girls would have had solid futures. All were set to head off into college with full or partial scholarships. Maria Pena's was a split ticket. Most of it was softball; the balance was being picked up by two different programs based on her Hispanic heritage. I started a list of things I wanted to see. School entrance requirements, the list of scholarship qualifications, transcripts for all three girls, the names of all their teachers as well as anyone working at the schools at the time they were killed. I was still working on it when my cell phone rang.

"Hampton."

"Hey, baby, you got the cuffs that go with that badge?"

"Hey, Rico, how'd you do on the game?"

"Couple hundred grand, Brazil took it in a sudden death shootout. Why don't you fly out this weekend I'll buy you a nice dinner then we can go back to my place and you can strip search me?"

"Hmm, tempting. What's Sylvia going to have to say about that?"

"Ahh Rebecca, you take all the fun out of it. How's your sister? Shirley said you had some good news. Not great news, but good, what's the deal?"

"Oh Rico, I wish I could tell you more but for now it's just some spikes and fluctuations in her EEG."

"Hey, don't say it like that. I'm not just some hired thug here. I went to college too. Those spikes and fluctuations mean she's still alive in there and, God willing, one of these days I'm going to throw that girl the biggest fucking birthday party this place has ever seen."

"You mean that?"

"Damn right I mean it. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of your voice? Shirley said it wasn't official and you didn't call 'cause you want my body so what's up?"

"Rico, you know it's not that I don't want your body, it's just that I don't want what Sylvia would do to mine if she ever found out. And I don't even want to think about what she'd do to you."

"Yeah, no shit! So what can I do for you?"

"Information."

"I thought you said this wasn't official."

"As far as I'm concerned it's not. I promise, nothing goes into any reports. I may have to tell Sam I talked to you but for now that's about all."

"Yeah, you tell that Fat Mexican I said to go fuck himself. So what do you need?"

"I need to know about an internal in Vegas from two years ago."

"An internal? You're shitting me right? What are you crazy? No one talks about internals."

"I know. But this is a bad one, Rico, and I need to know what they found. Does the name Amanda Watkins ring any bells?"

"Amanda Watkins, as in the dead girl from the VIP?"

"That's her."

"How'd you get on her case? I thought they stuck that one in the icebox."

"I found two more girls killed under the same MO."

"Holy God, two more? Tell me you're fucking kidding."

"I wish I was Rico, I really wish I was. I got one in Santa Clara the year before and one in Ventura last year. There may be more, but those are the ones I know about."

"You think it's a serial?"

"You think it's not?"

"Just hoping, okay, but you didn't hear it from me. We got dick! Whoever did this was a fucking genius. We popped a couple of high profile guys from the security staff just because they had the misfortune of being on duty when it all happened. All hush-hush, just to scare the rest, truth is we moved them to better positions at other locations. It was strictly a political move. The coroner confirmed that she had been dead for at least a day. I sent a team in and they actually managed to narrow down the time she was dumped to a two-hour window. This was after we went through a small mountain of very obscure data. We also had them go through the security network. They found where someone had spliced in and hacked their system feeds for several areas, including the cameras on that floor, the door monitor, which kept track of when that particular door opened and how long it stayed open. Whoever this asshole is, he really knows his shit."

"Any idea why he picked your place to dump her?"

"We went back and checked every major loser for five years prior. If it were a grudge case we'd have found him. Besides, who kills an innocent girl to make a hotel look bad? I don't think it was random, but I don't think it was personal either. I think he did it to prove that he could. He gets off on getting away with it. It's like sex for him."

"Not this guy, Rico. This guy makes Ralphy look polite."

"Hey, nobody could make Ralphy look good; that guy is fucking sick."

"Rico, he stalked these girls, and then he tortured and raped them for weeks before he killed them. He had Amanda for about a week. The other two were three and four weeks. The girl in Ventura had three broken fingers, a dislocated shoulder, bruises on top of bruises, a ruptured..."

"Okay, okay! I get it. Sheesh, let me sleep tonight wouldja? If you need anything else you call me. One more thing, you find him, you better make it stick because if I find out who he is..."

"Don't say it, Rico. You know better than to say something like that to me, and especially not over the phone. I'm going to find him, and I'll make it stick. How's Tony?"

"Ah, he's doing great. He's cleaning out the pigeons down on the panhandle. I think the PGA's gonna put a hit out on him if he don't stop."

"That's our Tony. Tell him I said hi."

"Yeah, and you kiss that sister of yours for me. They takin' good care of her?"

"The best, Rico, thanks for your help, you'll be the first to know if anything changes."

I did have to tell Rod about my conversation with Rico. FBI agents don't talk to high level Casino executives without telling their bosses. Makes people ask questions. As my partner, Paul was entitled to know as well.

"Rico Girard? The Rico Girard? How in the world did you get anything out of him?" Rod asked.

"We're old acquaintances. I told him I'd keep whatever he told me out of any official reports. If it was any other case I doubt if it would have done any good. But this case was special. They want this guy as bad as we do. He made it clear that if we find him we better get a conviction."

Rod looked surprised. "He actually said that?"

"Officially? We never spoke. Unofficially? We better make damn sure we have the right guy before a name appears anywhere. This one's personal for them." We sat for a second contemplating the ramifications that came along with that statement.

Paul took advantage of the silence to ask, "So how did you get hooked up with someone like Girard?" His voice made it clear he didn't think too highly of Rico.

"Someone like Girard?" I asked. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rod shaking his head as I rounded on my new partner, "What exactly do you mean by that, Agent Freeman? You would not by chance be making a generalization regarding Mr. Girard based on his profession would you? You would not be letting the fact that he is a high level executive controlling over a dozen casinos coast to coast, casinos that generate more income tax to the state, local and federal governments in a year than the three of us will make in our lives combined, CEO of a corporation that has been under the closest scrutiny of practically every governmental regulatory and law enforcement agency in existence since it was founded, and that despite this scrutiny has not had a single charge made against them stick?

"This from a representative of a federal agency with 14 separate major lawsuits pending against it at this very moment. This from an agent that is sworn to uphold the laws of this country despite how he may feel about those laws and the people they protect? Sworn to protect the spirit of "Innocent until Proven Guilty" from all entities equally and without bias or prejudice? You aren't making generalizations of that type, are you, Agent Freeman? Because if you are then I suggest you reconsider your choice of career, because you obviously aren't cut out for this kind of work."

With that I turned and left Rod's office without looking back. Rod told me later what happened after I left. Paul just stood there looking like a deer suddenly caught in the headlights of a very large truck; fully aware that he had made a mistake but still not sure what to do about it. For his part, Rod just sat there and waited to see what Paul would do. Finally Paul turned to his supervisor and said, "I guess I blew that one."

"I see you also have a gift for understatement. In the right circumstances that could come it handy. Unfortunately, now is not one of the times. Fucked up royally would be a bit closer to the reality of the situation. The question is what are you going to do about it?"

"Apologize I guess. She warned me about asking field agents personal questions. I guess I just wasn't thinking."

The director gave him a questioning look, "Was there something personal about that? I didn't hear anything personal just now. I heard your partner, a senior agent correcting your mistake of making broad generalizations. I heard your partner making it clear to you that making generalizations of that type can lead to wasting a lot of time pursuing dead ends. Pointing out to you that just because someone works for a bad company does not make them a bad person, and that a great man can still head a disreputable company. Although I don't think that is the case this time. Did something sound personal to you?"

"Yeah, it did. I mean, sure the stuff she said was all true and appropriate. But I don't think for a second that she believes that is what I meant by the question. That sounded a lot more like she was telling me to mind my own fucking business."

Rod smiled. "You're not as dumb as you look. But the question is what are you going to do now?"

"Probably get my head bitten off or my ass kicked. You may want to have a couple of people standing by in case this goes wrong." He left Rod's office and walked down the hall into mine. I didn't look up as he entered and closed the door.

"Excuse me, Special Agent Hampton, did I miss something back there?"

I looked up at him sharply. "Paul, do you remember what I told you about field agents and questions?"

"Yes, ma'am, I do. But I don't think that applies to this situation."

"Why is that?"

"I wasn't asking a field agent a personal question. I was asking my partner in this investigation a question about a party that is involved in this investigation. Perhaps not personally but as a representative of the company on whose property the body was found. If I have over-stepped myself then I apologize, but if I should find myself in a room with both you and Mr. Girard I need to know whether I should be aware of anything? I would hate to shoot him by mistake because I thought he was trying to assault you when he was just after a hug. My question was intended professionally, as your partner. Your answer suggests something more personal, and if that is the case, then as your partner I still think I am entitled to know where I stand."

I had to stop and think about that for a minute. He was right. As my partner it was a fair question. "Okay, I'll give you that one. In answer to your questions, I got hooked up with Rico Girard after his father ran over my little sister." Okay, so it wasn't a nice thing to do but he asked for it. The shock on his face showed exactly how badly he knew he'd blown it.

"I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"No reason you would. We didn't exactly live in the same neighborhood, but we lived close enough that we attended the same church. Antonio Girard, Rico's father, owned a casino. He had worked there since he was a kid, knew the business inside and out. The previous owners had basically mismanaged it into bankruptcy. Tony found some backers and basically bought it for a song. To make a long story short he turned it around and was doing very well. One Sunday morning leaving church a little girl ran out in front of his car. His driver had been drinking while he was waiting for the family. It was questionable whether or not the alcohol contributed to the accident that much but Tony didn't care. He set up a special fund to cover any expenses that the insurance didn't cover, and when the insurance ran out the casino took over.

"Rico and I really didn't know each other that well, but we ended up in high school together. My boyfriend at the time made a crack in gym class about how he was going to dump me if I didn't stop spending all my free time tending my vegetable garden. When someone didn't get the joke he told them about Amy and said that if it was him, he'd just pull the plug and let her rot. It took three students and both coaches to pull Tony off of him. We've been friends ever since. He ended up marrying my best friend, Sylvia.

"He majored in business and after college he went straight to work for his dad. He worked six days a week, mostly in the office, but at least one or two days a week working every job you can have at a casino. From cleaning rooms to dealing, bus boy to cook, laundry, maintenance, you name it. He knows the business inside and out, top to bottom. He has been the guiding force that has moved them from a single owner operation to a multi-state corporation. That little fund they set up to help with Amy's care has now grown to include research facilities in 5 states. All non-profit and all dedicated to studying and treating coma patients. Anything else you feel compelled to ask or comment on?"