Page 103 of Bad Seed

“What the hell?” Wilhem muttered. “Where did this come from? How did I not know this existed?”

He thought of all the long hours he’d spent at the business and never once thought of what Tip was doing on his own. The single, horrible thought that had sent him on this quest was growing into a possibility he didn’t want to consider. Taking care not to displace athing, he left the suite and walked farther up the hall until he found Tip’s office. He reached out to turn the doorknob, and at the same time he realized it was locked, the door swung inward.

He frowned, looked down to see an oversized bulldog clip stuck at the corner of the door. It must have fallen from a file Tip had been carrying and had kept the door from going all the way shut.

Wilhem pushed the door open and turned on the light.

Multiple computers blinked on tables lined up against a wall. Images on video screens from multiple security cameras were running in real time in places he didn’t recognize, showing women bound and gagged being paraded through narrow hallways. He could see a massive safe inside a cloaked alcove and cabinets everywhere, all of them with coded locks.

In a sudden panic that he would show up somewhere on another video screen, he kicked the bulldog clip beneath a table, pulled the door shut behind him, and ran out of the south wing, scrambling down the stairs faster than he knew he could move. Grabbing his coat on the way out, he jumped into his car and started driving.

He couldn’t be there when Tip came back home. The look on Wilhem’s face would give him away, and if what he believed was true, he didn’t know to what depths Tip would go to keep his secrets safe. For the first time in his life, he was afraid of his son.

Wilhem was crying as he drove and finally pulled over to gather his emotions, then set his GPS for the FBI field office and drove through the city. Then the moment he arrived, he lost his nerve. He was shaking so hard he couldn’t breathe, but he couldn’t run away. He couldn’t hide this. Not even from himself. Finally, he called the field office’s main number instead.

“Federal Bureau of Investigation. How may I direct your call?”

“My name is Wilhem Crossley. I need to speak with the special agent in charge of the raid at the Crossley warehouse that broke up a human trafficking ring. I may have new information.”

“Please hold.”

He sat with the phone on speaker and his head down on the steering wheel, trying not to puke. Moments later, a man answered. “Mr. Crossley. I’m Special Agent Jay Howard. How can I help you?”

Wilhem choked on his first words and then took a breath. “I’m in the parking lot in front of your field office. Late-model white Lexus. I have just discovered some very shocking evidence that may pertain to your case.”

“Come into the lobby. I’ll have someone waiting to escort you to my office,” he said.

Wilhem’s voice was shaking. “I don’t think I can walk that far. I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

“Stay there. We’re coming to get you,” Jay said.

“Yes, thank you,” Wilhem said, then fixed his gazeon the main entrance and started counting the minutes and looking constantly to make sure he was still alone.

***

The minute Jay Howard took the call, he knew in his bones that was going to be the break they needed, and as soon as he hung up, he said, “Somebody! Anybody! With me now!”

Two other agents followed Jay through the building and then out of the lobby onto the sidewalk. “There! White Lexus,” Jay said, and they took off running.

Wilhem opened the door to get out and then staggered and grabbed onto the door to steady himself. Seconds later, the agents had their arms beneath his shoulders, steadying his steps as they walked him in out of the cold. Nobody spoke until Wilhem was safely seated at Jay’s desk, with the rest of the team gathered around him.

“Can I get you some water or a coffee?” Jay asked.

“Coffee would be good,” Wilhem said. “I can’t quit shaking, but it’s not from cold. It’s shock.”

A cup of coffee was put on the desk in front of him, and then they waited for the old man to get a few sips under his belt.

“We’re going to record this,” Jay said.

Wilhem nodded, and after that, he began to talk.

They listened without interruption, hearing the truth and the shock in Wilhem’s voice. Masking theiremotions when he started talking about the office and all of the high-tech equipment and seeing the live videos of women bound and gagged.

“I guess there are none so blind as those who will not see, but I never once considered that he could have had anything to do with the theft from my company or using our property as part of trafficking humans.”

Jay leaned forward. “We had a tip from one of the people we arrested at the raid. He gave us the names of the two people closest to the boss. A man named Oliver Prine, and a man named Phil Knickey. Oliver Prine was killed in a shoot-out in Jubilee, Kentucky. The woman he was sent to kill took him out.”

“Oh my God! Harley Banks? Please tell me she’s all right!”

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