Masquerade (Corporate Heat Book 3)

by Desiree Holt

  “We don’t follow them into the bathroom,” the nameless man snapped. “That was supposed to be Stella’s job.”

  “Regardless of whose job it was, she’s fucking gone and we’re all in a pile of shit if we can’t find her. I don’t intend to let some little piece of garbage bring me down.”

  “Then you’d best get your ass in gear and find her, or we’re all dead. Enescu texted he’s got the buyers all lined up and he expects the auction to go off as planned. Frank’s got his boat ready, so let’s find this bitch.”

  Someone kicked the fence and Mia had to bite down on her lip to keep from screaming.

  “Well, she’s not here,” the stranger said. “Let’s move along. We need to comb this entire side of the property. She can’t get anywhere in that nothing scrap of an outfit, no shoes, no phone and no money.”

  Mia crouched there, almost afraid to breathe, until they moved away. The sound of their voices faded until it became non-existent. But now what? There were no sidewalks here, and she didn’t want to walk in the middle of the road, where she could easily be seen. Besides, she was sure, when they didn’t find her on the property, Dax and one or two of the others would be out looking for her in cars.

  She couldn’t stay here forever. Sooner or later they’d decide to check the outside of the fence—then someone would find her for sure. The night was a typical Florida tropical night, warm with a slight breeze, but Mia felt chilled to the bone. She had to clench her jaw tight to keep her teeth from chattering.

  She had no idea how long she stayed there, crouched so long her muscles cramped. But eventually she felt safe enough to ease along the outside of the fence. She was sure a car or two would be coming along any time now, but how would she know if it was someone who would help her or someone from the house who would drag her back and punish her?

  It was still full dark out and, despite the decorative streetlights, there were enough shadows to hide her as she moved along the street. She remembered from her arrival that they’d driven over a causeway and there was water on either side of the street.

  Mia also remembered having seen a police car cruising along the street, probably to keep the riff-raff from bothering the residents. She wondered what they’d say if they knew the riff-raff was living in some of these houses. Right then, she was thankful these people had all spent a gazillion dollars in landscaping, so she had places to conceal herself.

  Her head ached and her feet were killing her, all the cuts stinging and maybe even infected from walking barefoot. She was about to do something stupid, like try to find some thick shrubbery where she could lie down, just for a few minutes, when she saw the lights of a vehicle moving at a slow pace down the street. Is it them? Someone from that house? When she saw that it was a police car, she could have wept with relief. Half walking, half crawling she moved out into the road, hoping he’d see her and stop before he ran over her. Caught in his headlights, she waved her arms at him, and he slammed on the brakes.

  In seconds he was out of the car and lifting her off the road. Praying he wasn’t hooked up to those people, she collapsed against him, sobbing.

  “Help me. Please help me.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Detective Marco Dania hung up his phone and looked at his partner, Jon Alpert.

  “That was Moran over in Lauderdale. Remember he called earlier to tell us his boss had brought in the FBI? Well, they’ve arrived. He wanted to give us a heads-up they’ll be contacting the lieutenant about coordinating this mess.”

  “My guess?” Alpert said. “They’ll want a joint task force with the three departments involved so everything is in one place.” He rubbed his jaw. “This thing just gets worse and worse. Some of these girls have been missing for as long as two years.”

  “I know.” Alpert raked his fingers through his hair. “Imagine the agony their families are suffering.”

  “Daisy Winston’s parents are due in tomorrow”—he looked at his watch—“make that today, to formally claim her body.”

  “Her friend sure was a mess.” Dania rubbed his jaw. “What a tough thing to have to do at her age. I can’t imagine—” He was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. “Marco Dania.”

  “Detective, this is Bolling on the front desk. One of our patrol officers just brought someone in that you need to come and see right now. And I mean right now.”

  “What? Who? Are you—” But the clerk on the front desk had already hung up. He jumped up from his chair, motioning to his partner. “Come on. Bolling says he’s got something for us downstairs.”

  Alpert scrambled after him. “What?”

  “Didn’t say. Let’s go.”

  They hurried down the stairs two at a time and raced to the front desk, where Bolling pointed to a small room just off the lobby. It was a room where they put people waiting to speak to someone. What was waiting for him inside made every nerve in his body stand at attention. A young girl—yes, that was what she was, young and a girl—was huddled in a chair and wrapped in an old quilt. Her feet were soaking in what he assumed was warm water, her skin was whiter than printer paper and a police woman sitting with her was trying to urge her to drink from a cup of something hot.

  Dania knew the woman, Patrol Officer Nora Hayden, and nodded to her.

  “I just finished my shift,” she told Dania, “and Bolling asked me to help with this young lady. She’s pretty terrified.”

  He nodded, and when he spoke, he deliberately pitched his voice very low and soft.

  “Hey, Nora. You have a guest for us?”

  She nodded and held the cup up to the girl’s lips so she could take another drink.

  “Meet Mia Silva. She ran out and stopped one of our patrols in the middle of the road on Palm Avenue, scared out of her mind, scratched and bruised all to hell. She needs a doctor, Marco, but she keeps shaking her head when I suggest it. Says she won’t do anything until she talks to the man in charge here. Neither the chief nor the lieutenant is here at this hour. But we all know the two of you have been working on this missing girls situation. That’s why I had Bolling call up to you.”

  “Good thought.” He took Mia’s hands in his, holding them gently. “The first thing I want to tell you is you’re safe here. Whoever you ran from can’t get to you here.”

  When she looked at him, the fear was still etched in her eyes. “Are you sure? I—I don’t know who to trust.”

  Nora set the cup down and squeezed the girl’s hand. “Honey, I promise you can trust these two men. They’re two of the best we’ve got.”

  She drew slightly away and hunched into the quilt. “They won’t let those men get me? Come and pick me up?”

  Nora shook her head. “Not even a possibility. These two men have been working on other cases just like yours. They want to catch these men and put them away.”

  And maybe you can help me, Dania was thinking, as the image of the body of Daisy Winston flashed in his brain.

  “Okay. I believe you.”

  “Why were you there, Mia? Was there something going on?”

  She looked down at her feet. “I did a very stupid thing. It’s just… It sounded so exciting. They promised me a big modeling job and even set up a photo shoot for me.”

  Dania had to exert every bit of self-control not to pump his fist in the air and shout. Finally. A possible lead in this fucking, stomach-turning case. He crouched in front of Mia, trying to make himself as nonthreatening as possible. He had many questions, but protocol came first.

  “Do you remember the name of the agency?”

  “Yes. Bella Donna. They’re one of the biggest. It would have been a dream come true.” Tears welled in her eyes. “But it turned into a nightmare.”

  I’ll just bet it did.

  Mia took a deep breath, studied Dania’s face as if memorizing it then gripped the comforter harder and nodded. “There’s more. There are still girls at that house. Locked up.”

  Dania tried not to let his feelings show on his fac
e. “The rest of them? There were more girls where you were?”

  She nodded. “I heard someone say they were going to lock them up until tomorrow. Then they’re supposed to take them out on someone’s boat to deliver them. They talked about an auction.”

  Alpert whispered, “Shit. We have to move on this.”

  “No kidding. Listen, you should call Moran and dial him in, he can pass it along to the Feds.” Alpert hurried off and Dania turned back to the girl. “Okay, Mia. Sweetheart. Do you remember the address where you were taken?”

  “Yes. It was in a plaque on the gate. Four-seventeen Palm Tree Lane.”

  Dania swore. That address was very familiar. Frank Podesta, owner of Capricorn International Shipping. Leader in local and state and even national society. Major donor to many things, including police scholarships.

  Holy fuck! The shit is really going to hit the fan.

  “And the man who owns it? His first name is Frank. I don’t know his last name.”

  “That’s okay,” Dania assured her. “We know it. Unfortunately.”

  “Or anyone else’s except the man who drove me. The one who approached me to begin with. His name was Dax. Oh!” She sat up a little straighter. “And there was a woman. Her name is Nat. That’s all I know.”

  Dania squeezed her hands. “Sweetheart, that’s plenty. Now, I need to put some things in motion, so we can save those other girls.”

  “I’ll do it,” Alpert said. “You finish up with Mia.”

  “Okay. But I’ll be right there.”

  Alpert started to walk away, then turned back. “You should call one of those big shots at Elite and ask them if they know of Bella Donna. Didn’t Moran give you a number?”

  “Yes. I have the cell of one of the Arroyo big names.”

  Alpert made a face. “That ought to be fun.”

  “Tell me about it. Let me just get Mia squared away here.”

  “I’ll be okay,” she told him in a soft voice, “now that they can’t get to me. I want you to save the others.”

  “My partner is working on it. How old are you, Mia? Do you live alone? Is someone looking for you right now?”

  She shook her head. “I live with my parents.” Her mouth tipped up in a sad grin. “That’s part of the reason I got so excited about this. They are very, um, restrictive. My friends and I are planning to get an apartment.” The smile disappeared. “Maybe not so much now.”

  Dania swore under his breath at what these bastards had done.

  “Okay. Then why don’t we get in touch with them? They must be very worried by now.”

  She frowned. “What time is it?”

  Dania checked his watch. “Almost one o’clock. In the morning.”

  “They’ll just be getting home from a party. And they think I’m out with friends.”

  Of course.

  He wanted to shake all these dumb young women with stars in their eyes.

  “No problem. Why don’t we just give them a call? Just give me their phone number and I’ll call them.”

  She sighed. “Esme and Arturo Silva. This won’t be pretty. They’ll tell me I’m old enough to have been smarter than this.” She gave him their home phone number as well as their cells.

  Sweet Jesus. Dania looked at Nora, who had been sitting there, arm around Mia, the whole time. From the expression on her face, it was obvious she, too, recognized the name of one of the wealthiest, most connected Mexican industrialists living in Miami. These bastards picked the wrong girl this time.

  “I’ll call them,” Dania said. “Nora, you stay in here with Mia, but she needs to have those feet and scratches attended to before they get infected.”

  “There’s a first aid kit behind the front desk. If you can get it real quick before you go off to make the call, I can take care of it. Then tomorrow her parents can have a doctor look at them. Oh, and there’s a little stack of Miami PD T-shirts there also—we keep them for these sorts of emergencies. Grab one of those so she can cover herself up.”

  Dania was already dialing Noah Cantrell’s cell phone as he grabbed the things from behind the front desk.

  “Yes?” The voice was abrupt, brusque. He was sure he must have woken the man out of a sound sleep.

  Dania identified himself. “This may sound like a stupid question, but does the name Bella Donna mean anything to you? A modeling agency?”

  There was full silence on the other end of the call.

  “Fuck.”

  Dania wanted to say he agreed with him.

  “Yes,” Cantrell said, “that’s the agency Elite uses. What’s going on?”

  He told him about Mia and what she’d related to him.

  “God damn it,” Cantrell swore. “All right. We’re going to the Elite office and tearing that place apart. We’ll pull every single thing we have on Bella Donna and get it to you.”

  Dania breathed a sigh of relief. He’d been afraid they’d give him a hard time. Deny the possibility. Refuse to help at all.

  “Thank you. Very much.”

  “You’re pulling Detective Moran in on this, right? I’ll call him when we have everything together.”

  “I— Thank you again.”

  “No thanks necessary, I want to get these bastards worse than you do. Before I’m finished with them, they’ll be ruined.”

  Dania realized the call had ended when he had nothing but dead air. He shoved his phone in his pocket, his mouth twisted into a grim smile. He’d hate to be on the receiving end of anything Arroyo Corporation could dish out. There’d be nothing left of Bella Donna when they got through.

  Next he dialed the cell phone for Arturo Silva. He figured the father would be less hysterical and he was right. Despite a slight tremor of concern in his voice, the man was all business.

  “Is she unharmed?”

  “A little scratched up from running barefoot and hitting some shrubbery but otherwise fine.”

  “Good. We’ll be there in less than half an hour.”

  He found Alpert upstairs in their offices with both their sergeant and Lt. Cat Henrique, who had hightailed it to the station after Alpert’s call.

  “I already got a call from the FBI, Dania,” she greeted him. “They are sending someone to be part of the rescue team here, and of course they’ll be joining us when we haul the bastards back to the station. So, come on, get up to speed. The wheels are turning on this rescue operation. Give me the short version of everything you learned from the girl.”

  He filled her in on everything and told her he’d already contacted the people from Elite to confirm the modeling agency. She suggested hauling them in as material witnesses until someone explained to her about the Cantrells and Arroyo and their involvement.

  “Fine,” she agreed. “As long as they’re cooperating.”

  The head of SWAT was also there and they were all huddled over a big desk, laying out their plans. A request had already been made for a search warrant.

  “We’d like to do this with as little fuss as possible,” Lt. Henrique told him, “but we have no idea what kind of fire power they have there. Also, if we have to be buzzed through the gate, we don’t know what kind of reception we’ll get or even if they’ll open the gate. We’ll try playing nice, but if they give us a hard time, we will definitely let them know that any harm coming to those girls is the end for them.”

  When Bolling rang him to tell him that Mia’s parents had arrived, he excused himself.

  “I’ll be right back, Lt. The Silvas are here.”

  Enrique nodded. “Get their permission to interview the girl. We need a layout of the house. Anything she can remember will help.”

  “Got it.”

  Esme Silva had taken Nora’s place and was sitting beside her daughter, arm around her. Arturo stood in front of her, a mixture of anger and relief on his face.

  Dania managed to calm everyone down and persuade the Silvas to let them interview their daughter before they took her away.

  “I want to tell th
em,” she insisted, more settled now that her parents were here. “I’m almost twenty-one, I can speak for myself. They wouldn’t do it until you got here. Don’t stop me from this. Please.”

  With one parent on either side of her, her eyes focusing on the floor, she told them everything from the time Dax approached her until she escaped Frank Podesta’s house.

  “I’m shocked Podesta is involved in this,” Arturo said. “Although I guess nothing surprises me anymore. Evil lives everywhere, when money is involved.”

  Alpert took notes throughout the whole recitation. By the time the Silvas left, the two detectives had enough information that they could create a rough diagram of the house and grounds, plus the best guess of how many people were inside.

  A very chastened and still frightened Mia walked out huddled between her parents. She might be twenty years old, but Dania was aware from their conversation it had been a very sheltered twenty years. The details of the sex trade had frightened her, to which Dania thought, Good. Maybe she’ll think twice about shit like this from now on.

  By the time he got back upstairs, they were getting ready to rock and roll. He strapped on a vest, checked his ammo and listened to their final instructions. Rolling through the sultry tropical night with a convoy that consisted of the SWAT van and four other vehicles, Dania thought how incongruous their environment was with the deadly nature of their task.

  At last they reached their destination. Lt. Henrique rolled up to the gate and pushed the intercom button.

  Dania, sitting in the car behind the van, let out a long breath.

  Here we go.

  God. Please don’t let any of the girls get hurt.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  To Lindsey, it seemed her world had turned upside down and was spinning on its axis. Taylor and Noah showed up at seven in the morning, bearing pastries and decisions.

  “We’re invading you,” Noah joked.

  “Hiding out is more like it,” Taylor joked.

  “I hope it’s okay.” Taylor sighed as she unloaded her laptop and tablet. “The hotel is too public and Elite is…well…too visible right now. In fact”—she looked at Lindsey—“I’m keeping the Elite offices closed for a few days. Maybe permanently. We’ll see. The staff will still get paid and the account managers we trust we’ll put to work hard carrying their clients through the mess. Lindsey, you and I will handle the high-profile ones.”