Hey, this is Ken Webb in Miraflores, Lima, Peru. It’s a clear afternoon here, and I’m bringing you Chapter 12 of Trapped in Deception.
Tonight, we’re with Angie Vasquez as she digs into a case that doesn’t sit right. Burned bodies, fake names, and a pattern of disappearances all start pointing in one direction. The deeper she looks, the more questions surface.
This chapter starts pulling pieces together. Names that were forgotten resurface, and it becomes clear that someone went to great lengths to stay hidden.
Here’s Chapter 12, titled Cold Trails, Hot Leads.
CHAPTER 12: COLD TRAILS, HOT LEADS
Next night, Monday, January 13, 2015 – Evening
Angie waited until the neighborhood had settled into its usual winter hush. She pulled the burner phone from her desk drawer and pressed Tommy’s number.
A tired Tommy Chong answered on the second ring. “Hello.”
An equally tired Dallas Police Force detective responded, “It’s Angie.”
“Well, did you call to ask how I have been doing? What have you got for me?” Tommy didn’t seem to be in the mood to play twenty questions.
Angie rolled her eyes. “No, Tommy, you know me better than that. I looked into it like you asked. And yes, you were right to be suspicious.”
Tommy sighed. “This suspense is killing me. What did you find?”
Angie smiled because she knew her friend was a little frustrated. “The case looked clean on the surface, but it triggered something for me. I have been with the Dallas PD for twenty-eight years, and I just got that feeling that something wasn’t right. The setup, the burn severity, and the lack of ID all matched two older cases from the DFW area back when I was in uniform. Solo crashes. Both on I-35. One in 1994, Shawn Larson. One in 2001, Shawn McFadden. Same type of crash. Expensive cars. Bodies burned beyond recognition. Both cases closed fast. Now there is another accident with the same circumstances, again on I-35. All three of them were the same age, given the dates of death.”
“I’ve never heard those names, Angie. They mean nothing to me. A lot of people fit that description, and sadly many die in crashes on I-35.”
“McFadden’s case was reopened last month and then Shawn Larson’s a week later. He apparently had some connections to organized crime. His sudden death, the maxed-out credit cards, and the theft of his rich girlfriend’s house two days before he died all made it worth reopening. There was one photograph of Shawn Larson at a party that made the news. One of our detectives is in the Army Reserves and recognized the man standing next to him.” Angie pulled out a copy from the Arlington, Texas news. Several young men in their mid-twenties were sitting at a fundraiser for the Republican Party. She pointed to one in the middle. He appeared fit and full of confidence, dark blond hair.
“There, that is Shawn,” she said, pointing with a pen, “and this one is his friend Eddy Ludt.” She pointed to a man sitting on Shawn’s right, smaller, not as confident, but with an intelligent look. Both men were in blue suits with blue ties and had beers in front of them. The photo was taken at Bristoe’s Barbeque on Fielder Road in Arlington, Texas.
Tommy was quiet.
“You know that church group that just came under scrutiny? Luz del Redentor Internacional?”
Light of the Redeemer International. “It seems it was started by Shawn Michael Larson, one of the founders, and it is based out of Peru. The feds believe it is being used to launder money. Buster’s million-dollar policy went to that Peruvian church, Luz del Redentor International, the one founded by Larson. Federal agents say it’s a laundering front.”
“It turns out that both Shawn McFadden and Michael Buster were large donors to this organization. Both were also ordained ministers. Both cases were reassigned to the same Cold Case detective,” she continued. “While going through the files, he spotted a handwriting similarity in McFadden’s checks. The way the y’s curved and how the pressure points fell caught his attention. He took it to an expert who ran the samples through FISH.”
“And?”
“Ninety-eight percent match. It was the same hand on both cases. Then I pulled Buster’s HR documents and ran those too. Same result.”
She paused.
“Meet me at HaruSakura,” Tommy said. “Tomorrow. Six.”