The hope that had flared in Sarah's chest died. "Of course it did."
"But I got there first." Alex pulled out his phone, and Sarah saw the grim satisfaction in his expression. "I interviewed one of the pharmacists who filled Meridian's orders. This was recorded yesterday morning, about six hours before the fire."
He played the audio. A woman's voice, young and nervous:
"I'm not supposed to talk about clients, but the Meridian orders always bothered me. The quantities don't match normal medical use like, they're ordering enough ativan to sedate a small army. And the ratios are weird. Always the exact same proportions, always requesting the drugs be pre-mixed, which we're not technically supposed to do without specific physician oversight."
Alex's voice on the recording: "Did your supervisor question these orders?"
"I raised concerns once. Got told to mind my own business and just fill what's requested. But it wasn't just the quantities it was how they paid. Most corporate clients use accounts payable, standard invoicing. Meridian always sent someone with cash. Always different people, always paid the full amount on delivery. That's… that's not normal for a billion-dollar healthcare company, you know?"
"Did you keep copies of any orders?"
"No, but I remember details. They always requested expedited delivery to different addresses never the main Meridian headquarters, always smaller facilities. And they'd specify delivery windows, like 'must arrive between 10 PM and midnight.' Like they didn't want anyone seeing the deliveries during normal business hours."
The recording ended. Alex pocketed his phone, jaw tight. "I tried calling her this morning. Phone's disconnected. Her supervisor claims she quit yesterday afternoon packed up her desk and left without giving notice."
"You think they got to her."
"I think she's either dead or terrified enough to disappear." Alex stood, pacing in short, controlled movements. "Six hours after I interviewed her, Westlake burns down. Twelve hours later, she's gone. That's not coincidence that's a cleanup operation."
Sarah absorbed the information, her mind working through implications. This network didn't just cover its tracks it eliminated them preemptively. Anyone who saw too much, knew too much, asked too many questions… they disappeared. Permanently.
"We need a new approach," Sarah said. "We're not going to build a case through traditional investigation. Every time we get close to evidence, it gets destroyed. Every witness disappears. We need to stop chasing their paper trail and start finding the victims themselves."
"I'm already on it." Alex pulled his backpack closer, unzipping it to reveal surveillance equipment binoculars, a camera with a telephoto lens, audio recording devices. "I've spent the past week identifying possible locations where they could be holding trafficking victims. Meridian owns seventeen properties in the greater metro area. Most are too public, too heavily trafficked to work as detention facilities. But I've narrowed it down to three possibilities."
He pulled out a map of the city, marked with red circles and detailed notes.
"First location: industrial warehouse in the Port District. Meridian purchased it two years ago, officially listed as 'medical supply storage.' Minimal activity during the day, but I've observed deliveries every three to four days always at night, always vehicles with tinted windows." Alex tapped the first circle. "But the pattern doesn't match human trafficking. The deliveries are too regular, too predictable. And I've never seen anyone entering or leaving on foot."
"What's your assessment?"
"Probably legitimate storage. Maybe some off-books medical supplies, but I don't think they're holding people there."
Sarah nodded, making notes. "Second location?"
"Medical supply facility near the airport. Harmony Healthcare Solutions the same subsidiary ordering INA protocol drugs. It's a distribution center for the wellness centers, legitimate business during normal hours." Alex indicated the second circle. "But I've observed activity after hours. People arriving in unmarked vehicles, entering through the loading dock, staying for thirty to forty-five minutes before leaving."
"Could be staff working late. Could be drug distribution. Could be anything."
"Agreed. The problem is the location it's right next to a FedEx distribution center with 24/7 operations and security cameras covering half the block. Too exposed for holding victims long-term." Alex moved to the third circle. "But this location… this is where it's happening."
He pulled out photographs long-range surveillance shots of a three-story building in a declining neighborhood. Boarded windows on the first floor, but upper floors showed signs of occupancy. Security cameras on the corners. High fence around the perimeter.
"Former nursing home, closed eight years ago when the company that owned it went bankrupt. Purchased by a Meridian shell company three years ago." Alex laid out more photos, showing different angles. "Officially, it's listed as 'pending renovation.' But I've been watching it for six days, and the pattern is unmistakable."
He arranged the photos chronologically, showing Sarah what he'd observed. Vehicles arriving between 11 PM and 2 AM. People entering always women, always young, always moving slowly, unsteadily, like they were sedated or ill. Lights visible on the second floor. Shadows moving past windows.
"I've seen at least six different women," Alex said, his voice tight. "All Latina, all appearing to be late teens to mid-twenties. They move like they're drugged slow, uncertain, needing physical support. And once they go inside, I never see them leave."
Sarah studied the photos, her detective's instincts screaming that this was it. This was where they were holding the victims. "Security?"
"One guard on the main entrance, rotating eight-hour shifts. Cameras on all four corners of the building, but there's a blind spot on the north side where the fence meets an overgrown lot." Alex pulled out architectural drawings blueprints he'd somehow obtained. "The building has three floors. First floor appears abandoned boarded windows, no interior lights, probably used as a buffer to make the place look unoccupied. Second floor shows consistent activity. Third floor is dark except for one room that shows light between 2 and 4 AM."
"Administration," Sarah guessed. "Someone monitoring the operation."
"That's my theory. And look at this" Alex pointed to the blueprints, indicating the second floor layout. "Former nursing home, which means it was designed to house multiple patients. Individual rooms, shared bathroom facilities, a central nursing station. It's the perfect infrastructure for holding and monitoring trafficking victims."