No One Heard Her Scream by Jordan Dane Read Free Book Online

another newspaper photo. Eyes she would know anywhere. Only this time, Cavanaugh was nowhere in sight. Another suit posed in the foreground.
    "You sure get around, Slick."
    After skimming the article, she printed the material and reread the pages. On the surface, the New-York-based Global Enterprises invested in resorts abroad, with some domestic locations. On paper, the merger made sense. But when the article told of how the corporate head, Joseph Rivera, had been accused of racketeering, Becca smelled money laundering. Rivera's case had been dismissed on a technicality, no doubt through the efforts of high-priced legal help. The name Rivera didn't ring a bell, but after reading the story, she came to one conclusion. GQ had connections to the mob. With his ties to the heavy hitters of New York as well as to Cavanaugh, her gut told her he might be pulling double duty. Could he be working for more than one boss?
    At first, Becca saw Cavanaugh's link to mob money as one of the reasons his travel business diversified and flourished. But from what she knew about Cavanaugh, the man had too big an ego. He wouldn't stand for a spy operating in his midst or welcome any interference from an outside source in the form of someone he deemed lower on the food chain. Cavanaugh might be fueling the engines of the Mafia train with GQ on board for the ride, doing his dirty work. That kind of combo was dangerous enough, but she didn't want to get caught in the middle of a turf war. Something didn't add up.
    The news story made her stomach lurch for another reason. A personal one. How could she have been so wrong about her mystery man? She had sensed the danger but overlooked it, finding something redeeming in his eyes. She had to admit it. A more powerful urge had overruled her better judgment. The man rattled her, touched her in a way she had never experienced. If he stood in her way, could she ignore her personal feelings to do her job?
    "Only one way to find out." Becca heaved a sigh. When her desk phone rang, she answered, "Montgomery."
    "Hey, Rebecca." She recognized the voice of Sam Hastings, her CSI guy. "Those fingerprints on the coffee cup? We ran 'em against NCIC without any luck, but through AFIS, we got a hit off firearms registration. Your boy's name is Diego Galvan and he's got a permit to carry concealed in Texas."
    The FBI's National Crime Information Center contained computerized criminal justice information, available to law enforcement twenty-four/seven. And the state's Automated Fingerprint Indexing System had been created to store fingerprints from a myriad of sources, from the private to public sector. AFIS also linked with a national repository system maintained by the FBI, allowing law enforcement to perform national criminal record searches—all in the spirit of cooperation. But not every state participated in the effort. So even with the high-tech assistance, criminals still fell through the crack in this multijurisdictional computerized world. Becca made a note of Galvan's name in her casebook.
    "I'll send over my findings. Anything else you need on this?" Sam asked.
    As Becca listened, her request for the archived missing persons cases arrived. Two boxes were shoved onto a corner of her desk. After adding her initials to a receipt log, she smiled and waved to the delivery kid, keeping up her end of the conversation.
    "No. Thanks for the quick turnaround. I'll do a little more digging on my own. Later."
    Now she had a name. Becca would cross-check it against other data sources to get a better picture of the man. She knew her search for Diego Galvan should take a backseat to the old case files, but it had become personal—and she knew it. Instead of going through the boxes right away, she got back on her computer, hoping to find greater insight into her mystery man. An hour later, she was no closer to answers.
    "Damn it!" Another blind alley in her research into Galvan's background.
    Becca justified the search as