Identify

by Denise Wells

  “We are readied for anything. I have a cousin who works exclusively for Putin as a Jane-of-all-trades. She is not as good as I am. Putin would have paid double for me. But my mother promised us all one wish on her deathbed, for me it was to visit America with my sister. Before we came here, a while before actually, she started with the cocaine. We drink very heavily as it is, and when she would mix it with the cocaine, it would not go well. As you can imagine. She liked to party. And my father, he likes the party girls.”

  I pick up my cocktail and drain it, then motion to the server for another. My salad is still untouched after that first bite.

  “I don’t think anything untoward ever happened, that is not my point. My point is that he was lenient with her. Let Katya have whatever she wanted, and she was very spoiled as a result. Within days of coming to America, she met a man who introduced her to heroin. And she fell in love. With the man and the drug. It was all I could do not to kill him. I don’t even know how it happened so quickly, her addiction. It was as if one minute she was my sister and the next, someone else entirely.

  “At first it was fine, Katya seemed to be managing it, but I knew the guy was bad news. I could see it in the way his eyes traveled down my body whenever he saw me. As though he wanted to devour every inch, and not in an enjoyable way. Or at least not in a way that I appreciated or wanted to have happen. He was smart, I’ll give him that. Because he knew to stay away from me.

  “But with my sister . . . Katya was never as strong as me. It’s like he could tell that she was low-hanging apple.”

  “Fruit,” he interrupts. “It’s low-hanging fruit.”

  I nod, not sure if I’m annoyed that he interrupted me, or appreciate that he corrected me.

  “Anyway, he wasn’t wrong. We’d been here less than a week when she disappeared for the same amount of time. I was frantic trying to find her. I almost had my father’s men come to help me. But she eventually came back, acting like it was no big deal. That she’d been at a party that ran long, and she lost track of time. But, I mean, come on, a party that lasts for seven days?”

  He nods as though he agrees with me. His attention has been riveted since I began talking.

  “The second time Katya went missing, she failed to return at all. A few weeks later I received a DVD.”

  I must brace myself for this part of the story, taking a large gulp of my second cocktail to help. “I watched what was on it and it was obvious Katya was being used as a sex slave.”

  He reaches for my hand to comfort me, but I pull away. I can’t be touched when I talk about this, it would make me feel vulnerable when I don’t want to feel anything less than removed and untouchable.

  “It was shortly after that I went to the party where I met you. I was there that night looking for clues. Either men I’d seen in the video, or something that might help me get Katya back.”

  “Did you?” he asks.

  “You know I didn’t. I met you and all sense just flew out the door.” I wave my hand in the air to illustrate my point. “It didn’t matter, none of the men showed their face in the video anyway. Unless I could examine their cocks, I wouldn’t know it was them.”

  Mack stiffens as I say that. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes because what a stupid thing to be upset or jealous about.

  The server sets our main courses on the table and asks if everything is okay when she sees our unfinished salads. Mack gives her a look that has her backing away from the table quickly.

  “It was a few weeks after that when I saw her again.” My lashes dampen and I feel a tear start to trickle down my cheek. Mack reaches out to wipe it gently from my face.

  “She was walking down the street, looking all normal like to someone who didn’t know her. Only I could tell that she was missing. You know? Her eyes were vacant and blank. She looked like she hadn’t bathed in weeks. And the man she was with was pulling her forcibly down the block. She didn’t even recognize me when she saw me. And of course, the man didn’t know who I was.”

  I take a deep breath again, because what I will tell him next is a decision I made, a bad one, that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

  “But I made a mistake. A big one. Instead of doing anything right then, instead of rescuing my sister from the man, I waited and followed them. Back to a home in a regular neighborhood. And for two days, I watched the place not taking a break to sleep or eat.”

  “My god, Daria.”

  I wave my hand at him dismissively, not pausing to tell him how easy that was.

  “Then I left to get weapons and ammunition, returning within a few hours. Ready to kill all the men and free my sister. But I was too late. Not with the men, I killed them all. Every last one of those assholes. But by the time I reached the room where my sister was being held, she was dead.”

  I start to cry now openly. Not caring that we are in public, or that anyone can see me, or even that Mack is witnessing my emotions. Katya deserves so much more than just my embarrassment over showing weakness. She deserves to be alive. And she never will be again because I was stupid.

  I blow my nose in the cloth napkin provided by the restaurant, feeling only mildly ashamed for whoever will have to touch it next. Then pat at my face to dry my tears.

  Squaring my shoulders, I continue, “She’d overdosed. The needle still stuck in her arm as though she was mid-shot. Her body was still warm, but I was too late to save her.”

  Mack sighs and sits back in his seat, knowing not to touch me, but also not knowing what else to do. I finish the rest of my cocktail before resuming my tale.

  “I set the rest of the women free—seven aside from my sister. Not knowing what else to do for them. Not having a plan. It was a small operation, only four men. Easy enough for me to do on my own. Now, most times I have one of my girls with me. And we have set up multiple safe houses where we help the women either to be well enough to return to family or to rehabilitate or both. Whatever they need. Because I won’t let what happened to Katya happen to anyone else.”

  “You did this all by yourself? How did I not know?” Mack asks.

  “You were gone,” I tell him. “A longer trip, a few weeks I think.”

  “What about your family, why didn’t they come?”

  I laugh at that. “Remember how I said that my family is not exactly ‘above board’ with what they do?”

  Mack nods.

  “Well, had I told my father at any time before that, he would have sent an army to come and rain fire down on the city. Which would have resulted in a war—most likely against Ronan Sinclair—from which I do not believe my father would emerge a victor. So I waited until I took my vengeance and somehow convinced my father that it was too late for him to do anything.

  “However, I don’t believe the men I killed that day were responsible for Katya, I think they were just, how do you say, caught in the cross fires?”

  Mack nods.

  “So, my father and I agreed that I would stay here and continue to hunt the men responsible. But to get to them, I must continue to take out the little guys. I’m waiting for the one who will lead me to the man in charge. Until then, I continue to kill.”

  Mack looks shell shocked. Not that I blame him. But the look on his face is nothing compared to what I feel after his next sentence.

  “Beautiful, I hate to tell you this, but I’m an agent with the criminal investigative sector of the FBI.”

  31

  Reed – Present Day

  It’s been two days since I’ve seen Mack or David. But now I’m on my way to meet up with Mack so that we can tail David, making today the first time I’ll see them both since the engagement party. While seeing Mack won’t bother me much, it will be all I can do to control myself around David and not beat the shit out of him again.

  I’ve let David know that we plan to surveil as well as plant a listening device on his person so that we know everything that is going on. We have a few guys who will be stationed around the restaurant and ot
hers on the street nearby. Additional eyes and back up if we need it.

  I pull into the lot where I’m meeting Mack just in time to see him punch the side of the SUV, leaving a dent in the driver’s side door.

  “Everything okay?” I ask as I exit my vehicle.

  “No.”

  I wait for him to continue. One thing I’ve learned from working so long with Mack is that he wants to communicate, it just has to be on his terms. So if he’s pissed and you push him, he’ll clam up. But at the risk of sounding trite for using an idiom, if you give him a little breathing room he’ll sing like a canary.

  Sure enough . . .

  “Fucking, Daria! She doesn’t listen. And when she doesn’t listen it makes me want to—” He doesn’t finish the thought. Instead growling and raising his hands in the air, palms facing each other, fingers outstretched as though he’s squeezing something together.

  “Is that her head?” I ask unnecessarily.

  “Yes.” He lowers his arms and takes a deep breath, leaning his forehead against the door frame of the SUV for a second before turning to me. “She’s going to be at the restaurant tonight. And more than likely Quinn will be with her.”

  “What? Why?”

  He blinks at me. What looks like guilt flashes across his face before he masks it. “Fuck if I know. I think they got a taste of playing cops and robbers at the party and now think they can do it all the time.”

  “Mack, this is a federal investigation. They can’t just interfere because they think it will be fun. Daria realizes that, right? I knew you shouldn’t have had her help you the other night. That was a mistake, man. A big one.”

  “I know.” Mack runs his palm over his face, looking as frustrated as I feel. One, because the girls could totally fuck everything up and that would compromise our entire investigation. Two, because I don’t want Quinn in danger. Shit, or Daria for that matter. And three, who the fuck do they think they are? “Wait a minute.”

  Mack looks up at me.

  “How do they know where David is even going to be?”

  Now Mack looks openly guilty. It’s all over his face, no way to hide to it.

  “You fucking told Daria, didn’t you? What in the hell is the matter with you, Mack? This is straight up just bad police work. Do you want me to report you? You’re the one endangering our investigation, not them. And why in the actual fuck would you tell her? Is this pillow talk for you now? Are the two of you back together? Or, maybe you’re bragging about your accomplishments? Trying to get her on your good side? What is it?” I pace back and forth in the parking space between my car and the SUV. I’m tempted to punch Mack. Though I know if I do, he could take me down with one retaliatory hit to the head. And I’m not in the mood to be knocked out. Not that I ever would be in the mood, I suppose.

  When he doesn’t answer, I look up at him. “Well?”

  “It just slipped out, man. I don’t know how it happened. No, it wasn’t pillow talk, and no, we aren’t back together. We were just, kind of, strategizing.”

  “You were strategizing?”

  He nods.

  “With a civilian?” I confirm.

  He nods again.

  I close my eyes and shake my head. “I have no words for this, Mack. No words. None. You’ve left me speechless. This is by far the most stupidly fucked-up thing you’ve ever done.”

  He nods for a third time.

  “Quit nodding, you look like a bobblehead.” I don’t know what to say. I mean, obviously there are going to be other people at the restaurant, we have no control over that unless we shut the entire place down and put in agents pretending to be diners. But these other people don’t know about our operation or what we’re doing. Quinn and Daria now do.

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “Know about the operation? Or know that Quinn and Daria will be there?”

  “Both,” I snap.

  “No.”

  The other reason I’m speechless is because it’s so out of character for Mack to do something like this. He’s not green when it comes to special ops. He doesn’t have a tough time keeping details confidential. He’s not some rookie who’s barely got his dick wet trying to impress some chick enough to sleep with him. He’s the opposite of all those things. And what’s worse is he’s never done something like this before.

  Now, not only will we have to watch out for the girls while we are there, but I’m going to be distracted by Quinn. Just like I was at the party. And I don’t have the time or the patience to be distracted tonight. Which begs the question, why would she want to be here? David is her ex; it can’t possibly be fun to see him on a date. Unless, of course, it’s because he’s cheating on Laurel and that brings her some sort of girl-logic-satisfaction.

  I mean, she knows now what he’s done.

  Maybe she wants some sort of revenge as well and being here is her chance to do that. If she does anything to fuck this op up, I’ll spank her. A vision immediately pops in my head of Quinn sprawled across my lap. Her bare ass cheeks reddening the more my hand connects with them. My dick starts to harden at the thought as I imagine her writhing on my lap, enjoying what I dole out.

  Okay, not that.

  But something that won’t be pleasurable.

  For either of us.

  Not by a long shot.

  32

  Mack

  Reed is mad at me. And if I’m to be honest, he has every reason to be. The thing is—what I can’t tell him—Daria already knew where Tremblay was going to be through her own sources. And her deciding to go to the restaurant and bring Quinn is her own gig, not ours. She has added information that has led her to believe Tremblay had something to do with her sister’s disappearance and death. And she’s usually not wrong with things like that.

  But I can’t admit any of that to Reed because he’ll start piecing other things together. Like the criminals who disappear after they are acquitted, or the information that I get from “a hacker friend of a friend.” I don’t know how he’ll puzzle it out, but he will. I’d rather let him believe that I broke protocol and told Daria than have him suspect her of anything.

  I know that having Quinn there is going to mess with his head, but there’s nothing I can do about that. It’s high time he starts learning how to perform in such situations anyway. It’s what I’ve had to do for a year where Daria is concerned. I mean, not entirely the same thing since she’s not often at a stakeout or a crime scene, but close enough.

  Plus, if what Daria has said is any indication, Quinn got enough of the bug after helping us at the party that she wants to be involved in all operations. Even if just as a distraction. It’s not a bad idea, I just don’t know how to implement it and keep her safe. Or how to explain it to Reed.

  I return my focus back to him; he’s still pacing between the cars and mumbling under his breath. “Ready?” I ask.

  He nods and moves to get into the passenger seat of the SUV. We still have to meet David in another location to fit him with the wire before letting him move onto his date. I still wonder what it is that he tells Laurel in situations like this.

  “Hey.” I turn to Reed once we’re on the road. “Where does Laurel think Tremblay is in the evenings? When he’s on these dates?”

  Reed shrugs. “Working? Not sure. I know he would be expected to be at dinner if he was home, because he’s told me about it. Apparently, Laurel’s family does it up with cocktails beforehand, paired wines during, and brandy after. They even dress for the occasion. Sounds fancy.”

  I whistle at that. “I can’t even imagine, dude.”

  “You and me both.”

  We’re meeting David across town, in the parking lot of a city park that is near the restaurant. Lucky for him, he’s already there when we arrive.

  “Let’s get this over with,” David says before we are barely out of the car. “I’ve got a ton of shit to do tonight and this isn’t exactly convenient so close to the wedding and all.”

  “Did you hear som
ething, Reed?” I ask. “I thought maybe I heard something, but I can’t be sure. I mean, no way in hell would Tremblay be so stupid as to think he could bark out orders, right?”

  Reed runs his forefinger and thumb along either side of his jaw. “I can’t imagine that he would, Mack, no. But shit, I also didn’t think he was low-life cocksucker who abused women, so.” He shrugs.

  “Fuckface,” Tremblay mumbles.

  I elbow him in the gut. Hard. Causing him to bend over with a loud “oomph” sound.

  “Asshole,” he wheezes.

  “Do you not learn?” I ask as I bring my knee up to his face, knocking his torso straight and his head back.

  This is normally about the time that Reed would be pulling me back, reminding me about procedure and undue roughness with perpetrators. But instead, he just watches me and keeps silent. I look at him, eyebrows raised. His face stays impassive.

  “Ready for the wire?” Reed asks Tremblay.

  Instead of answering, Tremblay pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at his lip where I split it open with my knee. Reed motions for Tremblay to unbutton his shirt. When he doesn’t Reed moves forward as though to do it for him.

  Tremblay pushes Reed’s hands away. “I got it, Jesus, hang on a second.”

  Once we get Tremblay mic’d up, we go over the plan one more time. What he can and can’t do at the restaurant, the route he’s going to take to the drop house, and what will happen after that. Unfortunately, we must go along with him drugging the girl, but nothing beyond that. She never leaves the car. Once we apprehend the guys at the drop house, we can make sure she gets home safely, as well as get any other women stashed there back to their own families too.