Page 61 of Enigma (Pros and Cons Mysteries #6)

O live had been placed in a van and transported across town. She’d looked for Jason and Mitzi as they drove away. She saw some brush smoldering in the distance.

Were her friends there? Were they hurt?

Or worse?

Her heart raced and sweat spread across her skin at the thought.

But she had to stay strong. If Jason and Mitzi had died, Olive needed to finish this—for their sakes. For Tevin’s. Their deaths couldn’t be in vain.

She pressed her eyes closed. Dear Lord, I’ve doubted You for so long. But I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I believe in You now more than ever, and I need You. My friends need You. Those people who were trafficked need You. Please help us. Please.

They pulled up to the same warehouse where Olive had watched Elena unload trafficking victims.

Sarah grabbed her arm, jerked her out of the van, and led her inside, escorted by that trio of armed guards.

Olive held her breath, unsure what she’d see inside. She froze near the door, feeling a moment of overwhelming paralysis.

The space hummed with the efficient brutality of a well-oiled criminal operation.

The massive warehouse stretched nearly the length of a football field, its high ceiling disappearing into shadows above industrial lighting that cast harsh pools of illumination across the concrete floor.

Shipping containers lined the walls like steel building blocks, some open to reveal their contents—cases of weapons, stacks of cash wrapped in plastic, and pallets of what looked like pharmaceutical supplies.

Forklifts moved between the containers, their backup alarms beeping as they repositioned cargo for loading.

In the center of the warehouse, a network of temporary walls and chain-link partitions created a maze of holding areas. The human trafficking victims huddled in these makeshift cells—men, women, and teenagers sitting on thin mattresses thrown directly onto the concrete.

The smell of unwashed bodies and fear permeated the air around these sections. Armed guards patrolled the perimeter with military precision, their assault rifles held casually but ready.

To the left, a series of folding tables had been arranged in assembly-line fashion where workers in rubber gloves sorted through bundles of cash, running bills through counting machines and vacuum-sealing stacks into plastic packages.

The mechanical whir of the money counters provided a constant backdrop to the activity.

On the opposite side, another workstation buzzed with different energy.

Here, people in lab coats weighed and packaged what appeared to be drugs—white powder being divided into smaller bags, pills being sorted into bottles, all of it moving with the efficiency of a legitimate pharmaceutical operation.

Near the loading docks, a makeshift command center had been established with multiple computer workstations.

Men and women in business attire sat at laptops, coordinating shipments and communications.

Phone conversations in multiple languages echoed across the space as they managed what was clearly an international operation.

The entire scene was a chilling demonstration of how organized crime had evolved—no longer the back-alley operations portrayed in old movies, but a sophisticated enterprise that operated with corporate-level efficiency and international reach.

“Welcome to the heart of our enterprise,” Sarah said as they walked through the space. “We move over a thousand people through here each year. It’s quite profitable.”

Olive’s stomach churned as she saw the conditions—cramped holding areas, people huddled together in despair, the sense of misery permeating everything.

At least her parents had gotten out before things got this far. At least, even with their criminal deeds, they had some sort of boundary.

Her jaw tightened with disgust. “You’re a monster.”

“I’m a businesswoman. There’s a demand, and I supply it.” Sarah guided her toward a makeshift office area. “But I didn’t bring you here to judge my methods.”

No, she didn’t.

Olive braced herself for whatever was about to come next.

Elena emerged from one of the offices lining the building, her smile cold and triumphant as she strode toward Olive and Sarah. “Well, well . . . look who finally decided to join the family business.”

“Where are my friends?” Olive scanned the warehouse for any sign of Trick and Nova.

“Safe. For now.” Elena’s grin widened. “Though I have to say, watching your friend get shot was quite satisfying.”

Olive’s hands clenched into fists.

Before she could respond, a familiar voice spoke from the shadows. “That’s enough, Elena.”

A man stepped into the light—tall, distinguished, with graying temples and wearing expensive clothing. Olive’s breath caught as recognition hit her like a physical blow.

He was the same man she’d once seen her father meeting in secret when she was eight. She’d had a bad feeling about him then.

Seeing him in person now made all the pieces click together in her mind.

This was him .