Page 94 of Only the Hunter

“Two people,” Quinn confirms. “Former DHS officials, both of them, now consultants at Meridian. They didn’t pay Vrell. They didn’t need to. They just made sure the certification that crossed his desk looked airtight—proper formatting, the right signatures, nothing that would trigger a second look. Career guy like Vrell, clean record, he’s not digging into an NGO cert that checks every box. That’s the whole point of using people who used to do his job.”

“He signed off on something legitimate-looking,” I say slowly, “prepared by people who knew exactly what would pass without scrutiny.”

“Exactly,” Hudson says. “He’s probably not even aware anything’s wrong.”

I close my eyes briefly.

“So it’s not bribery,” I say. “It’s networking. Recommendations. Trusted voices telling officials what’s safe to approve.”

“Yes,” Hudson confirms. “And it’s perfectly legal. Until you connect the money.”

“Which you did,” I say.

“We’re still working on it,” Quinn says. “But here’s what we have so far: Alpine Refuge Network received a wire transfer from a Cayman-registered shell company three days before Lina’s transfer was approved. The shell company traces back—through two more layers—to a Panamanian holding structure that’s linked to cartel money laundering operations.”

“El Pastor,” I say.

“Not directly,” Hudson says. “But entities tied to his network, yes.”

I nod, processing. “What about the facility itself? Where Lina ended up?”

“That’s where it gets messy,” Quinn says. “The facility is privately owned. On paper, it’s a women’s health and trauma recovery center. Funded by a Swiss foundation that has received donations from multiple NGOs—including Alpine Refuge Network.”

“So they didn’t just authorize her transfer,” I say. “They transferred her to a facility they indirectly fund.”

“Yes,” Quinn says. “Which means when she became a problem⁠—”

“They could handle it quietly,” I finish. “Is this just Lina? Or is there a pattern?”

“We’re still digging,” Hudson says. “But we found three other trafficking cases in the last two years that stalled at DOJ after Meridian received payments. Two of those cases involved witnesses who disappeared or recanted.”

“Jesus,” I mutter.

“And one more thing,” Quinn adds. “We pulled metadata from encrypted communications between Meridian and the PAC. We can’t read the content, but we can see timing and frequency. There’s a cluster of activity right after Evie’s car accident.”

My hand tightens on the counter edge.

“Reporting back on an assignment,” I say.

“Or someone was monitoring her,” Hudson says. “Either way, they knew.”

I exhale slowly. “Send me everything. Flow charts. Timelines. Especially the DHS authorization chain for Lina’s transfer.”

“You’ll have it in ten minutes,” Hudson replies.

I hesitate. “Anything with Evie’s name come up? Direct mentions?”

“Not in documents,” Quinn says carefully. “But Meridian has a consultant who specializes in prosecutorial risk assessment. Former federal prosecutor. She knows DOJ culture intimately.”

“Meaning she’d know Evie’s reputation,” I say.

“Yes,” Quinn confirms. “And it’s conceivable she’s still got sources inside.”

“Which means they could’ve heard the second she pushed back on deprioritizing Safe Passage,” I say.

“Quite possible. The source might not even know they’re a source. She’s respected. Her role as consultant is completely legal.”

I turn toward the bedroom door. Still closed. Faint sound of the shower running.