Page 102 of Facing the Enemy

“Not anyone I’ve met or seen before.” Again his index fingers rose slightly.

I showed him one of Jack. “This man?”

“Agent Jack Bradford. He worked my case.”

I found Luke’s photo. “And this man?”

“Agent Luke Reardon. Worked with Bradford. Both testified against me.”

“None of those other people hit your radar?” I said. “Because info about any of them is your ticket to seeing if the judge would shorten your sentence.”

“Guess we’re done.” Zonner leaned back against the metal chair.

I folded my hands on the table. “Not yet. Who are you covering for? Someone arranged for the illegal adoptions after you purchased the babies.”

Zonner glanced away, his face still without emotion. I waited, employing silence to tempt him to talk.

“Your time’s up.” He scooted back his chair.

“Dr. Zonner, you’d rather waste years here than take an early release, start your life over without the confines of a cell?”

He shrugged. “I know the status of Bradford and Reardon. I’m no fool.”

“The Witness Security Program is an option. I saw the reaction to Peilman and Florakis. You’ve had dealings with both men. By the way Peilman is dead.”

He exhaled. “The way I look at my conviction is I offered those women a win-win situation. Their babies went to good homes, to people who wanted children. The mothers received money to get on their feet. That’s a service, Agents. How odd is our system of justice when I’m in prison for doing good, and I could have agreed to abort their babies and not broken any laws? Go figure. I’ll take my chances. A few more years here is safer than facing a beheading.” Zonner stood and walked to the guard in the back of the room.

He knew exactly his demise if he opened his mouth.

56

RISA

Gage’s eyes showed his frustration with the morning’s interviews, first with Mrs. Reardon, then Dr. Zonner. I offered to drive from the prison, but he refused. But I believed we’d moved closer to drawing Florakis out of the cobwebs.

“Florakis knows who we’re interviewing,” I said. “He’s grown bolder by bragging about past crimes and threatening others.” I focused on what we knew about him. “He or his boss obviously has enough money to pay gang members to murder and set fire to a restaurant. Houston is a hub of diversity, which means they could transport any child internationally by air, through Port Houston, or via land into Mexico.”

“CARD is researching those possibilities.” Discouragement frosted his words.

My mind spun with how broad the crimes might extend. “We’ve discussed the likelihood of the operation also dealing in drugs, and I know TSA, south border patrol, and the Coast Guard and Department of Homeland Security police the ship channel for contraband. The reality of smuggling illegal goods takes different strategy than transporting babies or human trafficking.”

“If we spread ourselves too thin with the what-ifs, we’ll never find Florakis and his people.”

I agreed with Gage. “I tend to get carried away with suppositions. We’ve already proven the magnitude of the illegal adoptions, and I think this is larger than what we’ve ever imagined.”

He gave me a slight nod. “We bring down one bad guy at a time with the resources available to us.”

“Well stated.”

“Have you changed your mind about moving into your apartment?”

“No. We have a plan and the SAC’s approval.”

At the hospital, we were granted no more than five minutes visitation with Jack, providing we didn’t exhaust him. I appreciated any coherency.

Gage and I entered his guarded room to find Jack’s eyes closed and the steady beat of machines monitoring his vitals. We stood together at his bedside.

“Jack,” I whispered. “It’s Risa and Gage.”