Page 1 of Bad Seed

Chapter 1

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

Mid-January

It had been snowing since daylight.

A true cold day in hell for the gang at the warehouse who’d just been arrested.

A light at the end of a tunnel for the hostages who had been but a day away from being trafficked to foreign countries.

For Harley Banks, it was just the end of another case, but one she needed to witness to be able to sleep at night. The horror of knowing women and children were disappearing monthly from this site was the stuff of nightmares. She wouldn’t let herself think of how many had been packed into shipping containers and loaded onto ships bound for other countries, or how many had died before the ships ever reached port, or how long it had been going on.

Today was the culmination of long weeks of investigation, and she was just another face in the crowd as she watched federal agents bringing out men in handcuffs.The line of ambulances waiting to transport hostages stretched past the second block.

As she was watching, her phone signaled a text. Satisfied that she’d seen enough, she turned and headed back to where she’d parked. By the time she was in her car, the snow was coming down hard. She started the engine to let it warm up, and then checked the message.

Well done. Final payment has been sent to your account.

W.C.

Harley nodded to herself. If Wilhem Crossley was satisfied with her work, then she was satisfied, too.

Being a private investigator was her job. Corporate crime was her specialty, which is why Crossley had hired her to find out what was happening to his import shipments. Being a CPA only added to the skills she often needed to do her job. The audit had been a tricky one. It had taken her a while to figure out that while the invoices were there showing the shipments had arrived, and there were records of every payment that went out to the companies who’d shipped them, the goods had never reached the warehouse. Crossley thought he was being robbed, and he was, but not like he’d expected.

After checking out the validity of the companies shipping products, it didn’t take Harley long to figure out the goods were ghost buys. Invoices from foreign companies that didn’t exist. Payments going to offshoreaccounts that were shell companies all belonging to a crime syndicate, and the mole they had planted in the Crossley company just happened to be Maury Paget, one of Crossley’s accountants. Crossley had trusted the wrong people, and Harley uncovered their scam. Even though Paget had been identified and arrested, they suspected someone else was running it, but she’d never uncovered a name. It bothered her, but Wilhem was satisfied knowing they’d turned over everything they had to the authorities, and left them to find the boss.

After receiving the text, Harley pocketed her phone and looked up. They were bringing the hostages out now. She couldn’t see their faces from this distance, but she could see the way they were clinging to their rescuers, and the ones who were coming out on gurneys, and the children who were being carried out. One thought went through her mind as she put her seat belt on.

Today, I made a difference.

Then she put the car in gear and drove away, unaware she’d been targeted in any way.

***

Wilhem knew what was going down this morning, and yet his son, Tipton Crossley, who was co-owner in the company, didn’t even know about the missing money, or that he’d hired an auditor to find out. Now, Wilhem had waited too long to tell him and, at this point, could say nothing. The feds had cautioned him not to alertanyone else about the discovery or the ensuing raid until it was over.

Tip was in China on a buying trip and was going from there to Japan. Wilhem consoled himself with the fact that even if Tip knew, there was nothing he could do about it, but his night was sleepless. The raid was going down at this moment, and he owed Harley Banks far more than the money she’d earned.

He rubbed a hand over the top of his bald head as he stood looking out into their garden. It was already blanketed with several inches of snow, and more was coming down. What a miserable day all around. He couldn’t save the hundreds of women who were already gone, but maybe they could save these before it was too late.

***

Phil Knickey had been living his best life as a professional hockey player until he’d crushed both his knees and his dreams in a car crash eight years ago. After that, his whole life went downhill, until he found a new gig—being the man bait for a gang involved in human trafficking.

It wasn’t hard. His name and face were still known. Women still flocked to pro athletes, even the broken ones. And once he had one hooked, the moment she headed to the bathroom, there were others waiting to make her disappear. It was money in the bank.

And, Phil knew tomorrow was shipment day. Thewomen in holding were being shipped out, and today, it was all hands on deck getting them ready. But Phil overslept and was late leaving his apartment. To make it even more frustrating, snow was slowing his travel.

He was less than three blocks from the docks and at a red light at an intersection waiting to turn, when a phalanx of black vans, dark SUVs, and three armored SWAT vehicles rolled through the light with ambulances following, all heading for the docks.

His heart skipped. It could mean nothing, or it might be everything. Within seconds, Phil was on the phone to Ollie Prine, Mr. Berlin’s right-hand man. The phone rang twice before Ollie picked up.

“Hello?”

“Ollie, it’s me, Phil! Are you at the warehouse?”

“Almost. Why?” Ollie said.

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