by Rebecca York
When she entered Jenkins Cove, she made a couple of unnecessary turns. The other vehicle did, as well. The car was close enough now that she could see that it was a silver sedan. Still too far away to get a good shot on her cell phone.
When she turned back on Main Street, Lexie stepped on the gas and headed straight for the diner where Simon was waiting for her. Parking the car right out front, she ran into the diner, pulling her cell from her pocket, then stared out the window, waiting for the car to pass.
It didn’t.
“Lexie, over here.”
Simon’s voice pulled her attention from the window. She turned to see him sitting with another man at a back booth. How weird, considering he didn’t want his presence known. After glancing back through the window, she joined them.
As she approached the booth, Simon frowned at her. “What’s wrong, Lexie?”
“I think I’m being followed.”
Simon and the stranger locked gazes, and getting a sick feeling in her stomach, Lexie sank down into the booth. “Why do I get the feeling you know something about this?”
“Because he’s my man,” the stranger said. “I’m Bray Sloane.”
Lexie turned to Simon and couldn’t keep the accusing tone out of her voice. “You decided to have me followed and didn’t tell me?”
“He’s a bodyguard,” Simon told her, “doing what you wouldn’t let me do. You agreed it would be a good idea to keep Katie safe.”
“But you didn’t say anything about hiring a bodyguard for me!”
“You need protection, but I know you would have refused if I’d mentioned it.”
“Apparently you know me well.” She turned to Bray who sat in silence, but with a knowing expression.
“Tell your man his services won’t be needed anymore.”
“Don’t tell him any such thing,” Simon countered. “Unless…”
“Unless what?”
“You agree to let me protect you until the situation is resolved.”
“You mean move in?” Lexie’s pulse quickened but she said, “I don’t want to confuse Katie.”
As if Katie were the only one who would be confused by Simon’s presence…
“You told me she was staying at her grandmother’s for a few days.”
“Yes, but then what?” Lexie asked. “What happens when she comes back home?”
“We can renegotiate, if the situation isn’t resolved before then.”
Lexie gritted her teeth. She knew Simon would insist that she have protection, no matter what she said. In truth, he was right. She’d been attacked twice. She definitely could see the advantage of someone watching her back. Part of her wanted it to be Simon himself. Though her feelings about him and about his staying away from her were ambiguous, she wanted the chance to sort them out. She simply didn’t like someone else suddenly making decisions for her.
Not even a ghost.
Sighing, she said, “Fine. You can move in.”
“Fine?” Simon’s brows shot up, showing his surprise at her easy capitulation.
“But you sleep on the couch.”
“Fine,” Simon said again, then turned to Bray. “Take the bodyguard off Lexie, but not off Katie.”
“Will do.”
Not liking being manipulated, Lexie took a big breath before asking, “So what did you want to see me about?”
Simon gave a quick look around the room before asking in a low voice, “The key. You have it on you, right?”
“What about it?”
“Bray would like to see it.”
Lexie looked from Simon, to Bray, back to Simon again. “Why?” Did he think Bray would recognize it?
“Trust me. Just hand it over.”
Lexie fished the key out of her back pocket and held it out to Bray. He took it from her and his head jerked slightly. His gaze locked on the key, he sat frozen.
“What—”
Simon’s kick under the table stopped her from finishing. Bray was obviously in some kind of trance. His pale gray eyes had gone kind of weird, like they were in some other place. Her pulse sped up and she held her breath until he seemed to snap out of it enough to speak.
“The key fits an old file drawer,” Bray said, his expression intent. “The drawer is part of a wood cabinet with leaves embossed in the trim.”
Lexie started. He was describing the cabinet she’d found in Brandon’s office.
“Someone is unlocking it… a man, from the hands. He’s sorting through the files… Wait, he’s stopping, pulling one out…Lala Falat.”
Lexie started. Seeing Bray’s eyes come back into focus as if he’d just come out of a trance, she said, “Lala Falat is one of the women whose kidney was taken. She died later, of complications.” And her fiancé had plotted revenge against Brandon. “Did you see any of the other names?”
“A few. Anna Bencek… Franz Dobra… Tomas Elizi… That’s it, I’m afraid.”
“The face?” Lexie asked. “Did you see the man’s face?”
Bray shook his head. “I saw through his eyes, just as if I were the man in question. Sorry I can’t give you more, that’s just how it works.”
He handed back the key.
Lexie might have disbelieved Bray if he hadn’t described the cabinet so accurately.
“So what do we do with this information?” she asked Simon.
“See if those other names are of people who survived.”
***
Fifteen minutes later, Simon squared the check with the waitress and gave her a big tip.
“Nice waiting on you, honey,” Wanda said, obviously pleased. “You come back any time.”
“I was never here,” Simon said, handing her another bill.
Her eyebrows shot up but she didn’t miss a beat. “Never saw you before, stranger.”
When the waitress left, Bray rose from the booth. “Glad to meet you, Lexie.”
“Thanks for your help.”
Simon took another look at the names he’d written down — those Bray had picked up from the folders in his vision, as well as the one who’d contacted Claire. Trying to track down these people was someplace to start, even if he had to pay for information that could lead him to the truth. He certainly could afford it. And he would start trying to reach any survivors as soon as he moved his things into Lexie’s house.
As they left the diner, Simon stuffed the list in his pocket and said, “We need to stop at the fishing cabin before going to your place.”
“You can meet me there.”
“And let you out of my sight? Not a good idea. Not part of the deal.”
“Surely you don’t think I agreed to have you shadow my every movement.”
“Only the ones that could get you into trouble. Truth is, my instincts tell me to get you the hell out of here. You and Katie.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“I can make it happen, Lexie. And I will if I have to, if you don’t cooperate.”
He could see that Lexie was still fighting the idea, that she didn’t like being told what to do, but in the end she nodded. “All right.”
She led their little procession straight to the fishing camp, while he followed close enough that no one could get between them.
He wondered if he was doing the wrong thing getting so personally involved with her again. Yes, he loved her, yes, part of him wanted to think there was a way he could have some kind of life with her and Katie in it. But the other part of him — the dark part, fostered in a country halfway across the world — wanted revenge for what had happened to him, and he wasn’t certain which emotion was stronger. He wasn’t certain he would be good for Lexie or for their daughter, not only because of his past, but because of his planned future.
If Lexie knew the kinds of things he’d been forced to do — the kinds of things he would like to do to repay whoever had set him up — he couldn’t imagine that she’d want him in her life. Certainly not in Katie’s. But after the life he’d been coerced
into, how could he let go of the past until he’d seen that justice was served?
Five minutes at the fishing camp and they were off again. Though Lexie’s remote home had made her more susceptible to her assailant, the place had its advantages. No one would know that Simon was there.
Once he got his stuff inside and made sure the premises were safe, Simon moved his truck into the wooded area where he’d parked before. Then he jogged back to the house.
Lexie was standing at the kitchen door, watching for him through the window. Simon’s heart began to jog faster than his legs. With her dark hair spilling around her pale face, her expression at once worried and welcoming, she was a sight any man would be glad to come home to. He just didn’t think that man could be him.
“I put some coffee on,” she said after opening the door to let him inside. “If you could drink another cup.”
“I can live on coffee.” He didn’t tell her there were times when he had, when in the field food had run out and they’d used coffee grounds a second and third time to have something warm to drink at night.
“So where do we start?”
“Computer. I’m going to do searches on all four names, see what I come up with.”
“You mean addresses?”
“And telephone numbers. And hopefully other information, as well. The more we have, the better off we’ll be.”
“I can help you with that. I have my laptop here.”
Then he told her about Bray’s wife getting a response from a possible survivor named Hans Zanko.
“He wants to sell you information? What about justice?”
Simon shrugged. “Justice wouldn’t pay the bills or feed his family. Who knows his circumstances? He might never have really recovered from what they did to him.”
As he himself hadn’t recovered, Simon thought. Maybe he never would.
“Well, I still think it’s horrible.” Lexie poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to him. “Let’s get started with that research.”
Sitting at the kitchen table, Simon worked on his laptop, while Lexie worked on hers. Good thing she had installed a home networking system. Simon had found his wi-fi to be fairly useless when he’d been at the fishing camp, but it worked great here.
He started with Franz Dobra, she with Tomas Elizi.
Simon found a Frank Dobra. When he called the number and explained why he was calling, the woman at the other end agreed that her husband’s name really was Franz, but everyone called him Frank. She also said that he’d left her for some floozy and she had no clue where to find him. Then she hung up on him.
The only Tomas Elizi Lexie found was in Europe.
“I don’t know if it’s me or if he simply doesn’t exist,” Lexie said. “He could have changed his name, moved like your Frank/Franz Dobra did.”
“Or he might not have made it,” Simon said, thinking of the bodies from the mass grave that might never be identified.
“Or that.”
Trying not to be discouraged, Simon said, “I’ll get hold of Hans Zanko and set something up. At least he’s willing to talk. Claire got his cell number.”
“Okay, I’ll start a search on Anna Bencek.”
Simon pulled out his cell and hit paydirt when the man immediately answered, “Zanko here.”
“Mr. Zanko, I’m the one interested in getting information on the human trafficking operation run out of Jenkins Cove.”
“I would be happy to speak with you in person. What did you say your name was?”
“I didn’t. It’s Madison. Jake Madison.” Until he was ready, Simon wasn’t about to give out his real name to anyone, not even to a survivor.
A heavy pause was followed by Zanko saying, “All right, Mr. Madison. You can meet me at an abandoned boatyard near Annapolis at nine this evening.” He gave Simon the address. “And don’t forget your part of the bargain.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll bring the money.”
By the time Simon hung up, Lexie had had some luck.
“An Anna Bencek has a dress shop in Easton. Here’s the address and phone number.”
Surprised that she’d possibly located a survivor so close, Simon immediately followed up, but was met with a recording. He hung up. “She’s out to lunch or something. Let’s go meet Bray to get that money. We can stop in Easton on the way to Annapolis. Hopefully, we can catch the Bencek woman.”
Chapter Ten
They left a short while later, Simon driving Lexie’s SUV. On edge, she kept a sharp eye on the sideview mirror, but saw no one following them. Not until they were on the road heading north to Easton did she allow herself to relax. The drive was all too short.
They went directly to the Dover Shopping Center where a Christmas carol blared out over the lot. The dress shop was at the far end. As they approached the store on foot, Lexie looked at the holiday window display. Another reminder of the day both of their lives had changed forever. But for some reason, it didn’t bother her as much as it might have mere days ago.
Simon opened the door and placed his hand on Lexie’s back to guide her inside. His touch made her catch her breath, so she quickly put some distance between them. She had to keep her mind on their mission, not on Simon himself. A look around revealed one woman looking at a display of accessories, another sorting through a rack of dresses.
A too-thin, mid-thirties blonde came from the back with a purse in hand. “I find it.”
The customer at the accessory display immediately joined her and bought the purse. As she left the store, the woman who’d been browsing through the dresses walked out, as well, leaving Lexie and Simon alone with the owner.
“Can I help?” she asked them with a big smile, her words tinged with a faint accent reminiscent of Eastern Europe.
“Anna Bencek?” Simon asked.
“Yes.” Her smile wavered a little and caution reflected from her pale blue eyes.
“My name is Simon Shea and this is Lexie Thornton… from Jenkins Cove.”
The smile disappeared altogether. “What you want with me?”
“Who are you afraid of?” Simon asked.
“I—I don’t understand.” The woman’s hands shook slightly as she looked away from them and straightened a display. “If you don’t make purchase, please leave. I—I close up now.”
“Simon may have come on a bit strong,” Lexie said, her voice soothing. “We mean you no harm, Ms. Bencek. We’re hoping you can help us.”
“To find dress?” Her voice was stronger now. Angry.
Simon said, “No—”
Lexie touched Simon’s arm and gave him a look that said, Let me handle this. “We need information about the people who brought you to this country and hurt you.”
The Bencek woman shook her head. “You leave now.”
Taking his cue from Lexie, Simon softened his approach. “Please. They hurt me, too. They took me from my home across an ocean, just as they did to you. They didn’t take my kidney, but they put me to work as a soldier in a war I’d only heard about, and all because I saw a young man murdered. A young man who was trying to escape them, maybe even someone you knew. I was held prisoner for years. And now I want to find out who was responsible.”
“I—I can tell you nothing.”
Did she mean she couldn’t identify anyone or that she didn’t know if she should help them? Lexie sensed Simon’s frustration.
“Please,” Lexie said softly. “The people responsible for the human trafficking operation shouldn’t get away with what they did. Maybe they’ll do other terrible things. I’m sure you’ve heard about the mass grave—”
A choked sound came from the other woman and she grasped her throat. “My friend Bernice… she disappeared… when I heard about bodies…”
Simon said, “Perhaps you could close up and we could go somewhere private?”
The shop owner resisted for a moment, and then she nodded. A few minutes later, they sat in the back room, a combination office and storeroom filled with carton
s. Anna Bencek sat in her desk chair, hands gripping the arms, while Simon took two chairs from a stack and set them down for him and Lexie.
“Anything you remember might be of help.”
“Ten of us came to United States. We pay for passage and papers to work. When we get here, they say not enough money. Pay again. We have no money. So they say we pay with kidney or go back.”
“How horrible,” Lexie murmured.
“How did you get here?” Simon asked.
“Boat… cargo ship. We have cots below. People sick. They gave medicine. We sleep. Then one day, they tell us we are here. No port. Only water.”
“They transferred you to a smaller boat?”
She nodded. “A yacht.”
Lexie stiffened. “A yacht… a sailing yacht?”
“No sails, motor. Big yacht.”
“The name — did you see it?” Simon asked.
Again, the woman nodded. “I never forget. Drake’s Passage.”
Feeling sick, Lexie half tuned out as Simon continued to question the woman.
“Where did the yacht take you?”
“To warehouse where we wait like jail. Then to place for surgery, then back to warehouse for a few days until is okay to go.”
Lexie was only vaguely aware of Simon’s further questions and the fact that Anna Bencek had nothing further of value to tell them.
When he was done, they thanked the woman and headed for Annapolis and Five Star Security, where Simon was going to collect the money to pay Hans Zanko for information.
“So what do you think?” he asked as they got on the road.
Lexie swallowed hard before saying, “Drake’s Passage is owned by Drake Enterprises.”
Now there was no doubt Cliff or Doug Heller was involved. Brandon just couldn’t be.
“So is Brandon into boating?” Simon asked.
“No… no!”
“Why the emphasis?”