Page 104 of Ultimate Justice

“Where are we with the search warrants?” the director asked.

“A state warrant was served at the camp relating solely to the illegal marijuana operation. For everything else, we served federal search warrants on the camp and at the Wilsons’ house.”

Evan had been present when all the warrants had been served. Then he’d had the dubious honor of telling his parents their friends were the source of grief that had plagued them for twenty-four years. Compounding that grief were the real reasons they’d remained friends with his parents and volunteered at the Foundation—to grab an occasional kid for the camp. The ones who’d disappeared and never came back.

The last thing he’d wanted was to add to his parents’ continued suffering, but he’d had no choice. Eventually, they would have seen or heard something on the news. When he’d finally told them, they’d been in total shock, disbelieving at first. Now they were in the angry stage. His father had wanted to storm the prison where Bram and Nina Ackerman were being held without bail and punch them both in the face.

Get in line, Dad.

“There wasn’t any evidence at the residence,” he continued. “They were careful to keep their books and records at the camp. We’re dumping everything on their laptops. Our forensic techs are working on that as we speak. We also found the rifle Frank Manello used to shoot down the chopper.”

Chip was doing fine, lucky to walk away from the crash, having suffered only a concussion. The chopper, however, was a total loss.

“I know this is difficult for you,” Brian said. “What about the graves?”

He cleared his throat. That part of the warrant—the dig—hadn’t made the news. Yet. When he’d told his parents about the Wilsons, he’d intentionally left that part out. “There were four graves. None with headstones, only unlabeled crosses. Turns out the Ackermans were somewhat religious. Even though we suspect they were responsible for these people being dead, they’d insisted on religious markings.”

“I take it they’re still not talking?” the director asked.

“No, sir.” He shook his head at the speaker. Not even in their native Dutch tongue which, he’d heard from the U.S. Marshals during processing, had grown thicker now that they no longer had to hide their identities. “They lawyered up on the spot. Robert and Melinda Tutak said they don’t know anything about the people buried in the graves. We think Manello did most of the dirty work.” And he wouldn’t be talking. Ever.

“Didn’t you say the coroner had come back with reports on some of the bodies?” Lori asked, flipping to the back of the briefing packet.

He nodded. “Two adult males and two female teenagers. The adult males were identified as the two men who’d been reported missing over twenty years ago.”

“You still think mouthing off about working at the camp’s marijuana grow got them killed?” Brian asked.

“I do.” Again, he nodded. “The Tutaks said the Ackermans had once complained the police had come snooping around years ago, and that’s when they started luring in kids to work at the camp. At the right age, kids can be brainwashed. That, plus the isolation and the ideal geography, kept the camp hidden all these years.”

“And the teenagers?” Sills asked.

“We have an ID on one of them. Angela Freeman. She was reported missing three years ago. Brett and I notified her family this morning.” A truly shitty way to start the day.

“Did the coroner ID the other female body yet?” Lori asked softly.

Evan took a deep breath. As if notifying the family of the dead teenager wasn’t hard enough. He still might have to do the same for his own family. “Not yet.” He’d been promised the remaining report yesterday. The waiting was killing him.

“Is there a chance there are other bodies buried on site that aren’t in the cemetery?” the director asked.

“To be safe, we ran cadaver dogs over the entire camp. No more bodies were found.” That was one good piece of news.

“Anything else we should know about?” the director asked.

When Brian looked at Evan, brows raised, Evan shook his head.

Brian cleared his throat. “The U.S. Attorney’s Office is making this case their priority.”

“Good,” the director said. “Keep me posted. Thank you, and good job, Evan.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The red light on the speakerphone went out.

“Let us know if you need any other resources,” Brian said.

“I will.” Evan collected his briefing papers and went back to his office.

Blue and Crystal lifted their heads, watching as he sat heavily on his desk chair. Sammy had given him the news that a young couple was interested in adopting Crystal. If the adoption went through, Blue’s days of canine canoodling would be over.