“I didn’t like the way he was looking at Cherokee.” I sat back down.
“Gross.” My niece whirled and thundered back up the stairs. “Sadie’s on my bed.”
After she left the room, Matt pulled a sheet of paper from his pocket. “This was taped to your bathroom mirror.”
“What’s going on?” Wayne, followed closely by Angela and Dakota, raced into the room. “Sorry. They refused to stay behind.”
“We have no control over this family,” Matt said.
I read the note in my hand out loud. “Don’t think about getting involved. Write your love stories and mind your own business. Learn from past attempts on your life. This time, you might not be as lucky.” I opened my fingers to let the paper flutter to the floor.
I’d done what Matt asked and not gotten openly involved. Why the threat? I wasn’t snooping and asking questions.
“Not setting the alarm is completely irresponsible.” I glared at Angela. “Mom could have been murdered.”
“By you,” Mom said. “No one else tried to shoot me. Still, Angela, you need to remember to set the alarm. Cherokee was home, too.”
“I was distraught!” She planted fists on her spandexed hips. “Dakota’s friend was beaten up, my son was being questioned by the police, and he needed his mother.”
“I’m going to bed.” Dakota grabbed a cookie out of the cookie jar and clomped upstairs.
“I’m going back to work.” Wayne clapped Matt on the shoulder. “You deal with all…” he waved a hand toward us.
“Impossible.” He leaned forward and kissed me, then picked up the typed note. “Things look fine here. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I nodded and wiped the back of my hand across my face. “I know. Don’t go anywhere alone.” It was becoming second nature to never be alone because of outside threats.
He laughed and left, setting the alarm and closing the front door
“I’m going back to bed.” Mom patted my shoulder. “Try not to kill me in my sleep.”
“Very funny.” I eyed my gun with distaste. Maybe some classes on gun safety was in my future.
I made the rounds, checking windows and locking doors. I thought about fetching Sadie from my niece’s room, but the scaredy-cat dog was safer there than with me. Danger followed me like Hansel and Gretal after bread crumbs, and I was getting too old for nursery rhymes. It was time to find something else to disrupt my life.
9
Sleep took a lot of time coming. By the time my eyes closed, the sun was peeking through the curtains. I groaned and pulled the pillow over my head. The day could wait.
“Aunt Stormi?” Dakota’s loud whisper cut through the pillow. “I know you aren’t sleeping. I heard you tossing and turning.”
“Go away.”
“I need to talk to you.” He yanked the pillow away from my face. “I wasn’t completely honest with Matt.”
That got my attention. I sprang to a sitting position and scooted against the headboard. “Go on.”
He perched on the edge of the mattress and took a deep breath. “Heather gave me this. I’m really scared.” He handed me a photo. “She said that her and the other girls are trapped. If they tell anyone, they’ll disappear and be labeled runaways.”
“Yet she told you.” I took the picture. My heart stopped. Smiling up at a handsome boy was Cherokee.
“There’s more.” He handed me pictures of her at work, arriving home, and on dates. “Heather says they’re after my sister.”
“Who are they?” I put the pictures in a pile and grabbed my cell phone to call Matt.
“I don’t know. That’s what I need you to find out.”
“I’m not the police. I’m a writer who writes about the trouble she gets into. This is over my head.”
He reached for the phone. “You can’t call Matt. If they find out we went to the authorities, they’ll know Heather told me.”
“Matt is discreet.” I held it out of his reach. “This is serious stuff, Dakota.”
He glared. “What kind of investigator are you? Fine!” He stood. “I’ll keep looking on my own. Whatever happens is on your head.” He stormed from the room, leaving me with my finger poised over the buttons of my phone.
The right thing to do was to call Matt. So, why wasn’t I pressing the buttons? I sagged back against my pillows. Because I was in the proverbial space between a rock and a hard place. If I called him, I risked putting teenage girls, and my nephew, in danger. If I didn’t call, my niece might disappear and be sold to some disgusting pervert old enough to be her grandfather. I pressed the buttons. I’d deal with the aftermath later. Family came first.
“Hello.” I expected the raspy voice of having woken Matt. Instead, he sounded alert, as if he’d been awake for hours.
“I need you.”
“Words every man wants to hear.” He chuckled.
“No, seriously. Cherokee is in trouble.”
“On my way.” Click.
I climbed from bed and dressed in jeans and a tee shirt. I really need variation in my wardrobe. Slipping my feet into ballet flats, I followed the scent of brewing coffee to the kitchen.
Mom and Angela nursed cups in front of them. I tossed the pictures on the table. “Where’s Cherokee?”
“Upstairs. Oh, my, gosh!” My sister grabbed the photos. “What are these? What are you not telling me? Cherokee!” She raced from the room and up the stairs as fast as stilettos would allow.
She thundered back down as Matt barged through the door a few minutes later. Angela grabbed the collar of his dress shirt. “My daughter is gone.”
He peered over her shoulder at me and peeled her hands off his shirt. “Come to the table. Dakota!”
A very sullen Dakota joined us. He glanced at me as if I were a traitor.
“Family is more important than friends.”
“You knew something like this would happen?” Angela shrieked at him.
“Calm down. We don’t know that anything has happened. Stormi, fill me in.” Matt poured himself a cup of coffee and sat at the table.
I showed him the photos and told him what little Dakota had said that morning. I watched as his face hardened.
He slipped the photos into his shirt pocket. “Could she be at work? Anne, would you call them? Angela and Dakota, start calling her friends. Let’s rule out every possibility before jumping to conclusions.”
As everyone rushed to do their assigned jobs, I leaned closer to Matt. “You don’t believe she’s at work, do you?”
“She could be.”
“The store doesn’t open for two more hours.” I grabbed a napkin and started shredding it into tiny pieces on the table. My heart knew she wasn’t at work. She might have left for work, but she won’t have made it.
“She didn’t show,” Mom said. “She was supposed to be there fifteen minutes ago to prepare to open. She’s never late for work. What do we do?”
“I’m calling it in, and heading over to talk to Carol Forbes. This is gone on long enough.” He pushed back from the table and marched out, me chasing behind.
“Go back,” he said. “This isn’t a job for you.”
“I’ll stay back when you approach the house. Please. It’s my niece.”
He sighed and nodded, sliding behind the wheel of his truck. Seconds later, we peeled rubber roaring down the street. Matt was out of the truck and marching up the walk to Carol’s house before I got out.
“They moved.” Rusty popped up from the bushes. “In the dark.”
“What? Matt!” I grabbed Rusty’s arm and pulled him from his hiding place. “When? Before midnight or after?”
“Rusty don’t know.”
“What’s going on?” Matt jogged to my side.
“Rusty said they moved out.”
“Yeah, I could tell through the window. The house is empty.”
Tears blurred my vision. “Do you think they took Cherokee?”
“I don’t know. We need to talk to thi
s boyfriend of hers.”
We hurried back to the truck and sped toward the strip mall on the outskirts of town. Cherokee worked at a clothing store that catered to teens. The place was locked up tight.
Matt pounded on the door until a little mouse of a girl with coke bottle glasses opened the door. “We’re closed,” she said.
“Not for us.” Matt flashed his badge.
“Oh.” She stepped back. “I’m the only one here. Normally, I only work in the back. I’m not the norm for customers, but no one showed up today.”
Matt pulled out the picture of Cherokee and her boyfriend. “Do you know these people?”
“Sure. That’s Cherokee and Jon. They work here. She didn’t show up this morning. He isn’t scheduled until tomorrow.” The poor thing’s hands shook as if she were being interrogated.
“I need an address for Jon.”
She glanced from Matt to me. “Can I call my boss?”
“No,” Matt said. “Get me the address, then you can do whatever you want.”
“Yes, sir.” She scurried to a back room, the two of us following, and opened a drawer in a metal file cabinet. “Jon is new. Stays to himself mostly.” She pulled an application from a file and made a quick copy of a page inside, then handed it to Matt. “Is he in trouble? Or Cherokee? Some lady called this morning—”
Matt smiled. “Thank you. You’ve been a big help.” He turned and headed back outside.
“Lock the door,” I told the girl before following him. “If you see Cherokee, tell her to call her aunt.”
Seconds later, we once again sped down the road, this time to an apartment complex. I knew without Matt saying a word, that it was a waste of our time. Still, we couldn’t leave any stone unturned. We had to follow every lead.
The woman whose door Matt pounded on had something to talk about for a month. Despite her protests that no young man lived there, we searched the small crocheted doily-covered place.
Matt handed her a business card, expressed his apology for disturbing her day, and stormed from the apartment. “I’m taking you home now. I need to go back undercover for a few days.” He glanced at me as we got in the car. “I won’t be around. Please, please, be careful.”
I nodded. “I’ll be looking for my niece. You be careful.”
He slid his hand behind my head and pulled me close. “Keep your gun and Tazer close at all times.” He claimed my lips roughly, almost as if he thought it might be the last kiss we gave each other.
When someone pounded on the truck window, telling us to get a room, we pulled apart. Matt started the ignition and backed from the parking spot.
The drive back to my house was made in silence. When we’d parked again, this time leaving the engine running, Matt gripped the steering wheel so tightly, I thought he might snap it in half.
“I love you.” I blinked back tears. “Try and find time to call.”
He nodded. “I love you, too.”
I exited the truck and stood on the lawn as he backed out and drove away. Why did it feel as if we’d said goodbye? I couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks as I headed for the kitchen.
Mom glanced up from where she sat, still holding a cup of coffee. “It’s cold. I can heat some more if you’d like.”
“No, thank you.” I sat across from her. “Where’s Angela and Dakota?”
“They decided to visit her friends in person. Mary Ann is in your office doing research on child trafficking.” Her voice cracked. “Since she recently turned eighteen, does she count as a child?”
“I don’t know.” I swept the pile of napkin pieces I’d torn earlier into my hand, then, rather than get up and throw them away, let them fall back to the table top. “What do you think about the party we’re catering on Friday?”
“What do you think?”
I exhaled sharply. “I think we should do it. It’s tied up with all this. I just haven’t figured out how.”
She reached across the table and gripped my hand. “What are we going to do? This isn’t me or you being taken this time.”
“I know.” I needed to come up with a plan, and fast.
“It’s weird that Cherokee was taken,” Mary Ann said, joining us at the table. “There was an episode in Little Rock, similar to what’s happening here. The only girls involved were runaway and foster kids. Those considered disposable. The girls were rescued during a sports event, but those in charge were never caught.” She tossed some printed papers on the table. “My guess … they came here. Now, they’ve gone somewhere else.”
“How can we keep them from going farther than we can reach?” I drummed my fingers on the table. “What type of men frequent these…?”
“I don’t know what they’re called either. The girls don’t appear to be sold, just bought for a time.” Mary Ann shook her head slowly. “The prime age is fifteen to nineteen. Who do we know that could go undercover as a lost girl?”
“You.”
“Either one of you could, actually.” Mom tilted her head. “With the proper clothes and makeup, you could do it. You’d have to wear a wig. That red hair is a dead giveaway.”
We’d all lost our minds, clutching at straws in desperation. “Let’s see what happens on Friday night first, okay? I also want to talk to Norma some more. So much has been happening, I haven’t been able to check in with her to see what Tyler found out. And…there’s Tyler’s friend to question.”
“All of which I will handle.” Wayne strolled into the kitchen as if he were a part of the family and tossed a box of doughnuts onto the table. “Door was unlocked and the alarm not set. Guess y’all didn’t learn anything last night.” He grinned. “Yes, Matt told me. He also asked me to keep an eye on you. Mary Ann’s squeeze is holding down things at the office.”
“Short of arresting me,” I said, glaring, “you can’t stop me from trying to find Cherokee.”
“I will arrest you if I have to.” He opened the box and pulled out an éclair. “But, I’m in agreement that we need a woman on the inside.”
My mouth fell open. I almost died on the spot. Wayne Jones agreed with me. “Aren’t you worried about what Matt will say?”
“Nah. I can take him. We’ve been talking about the same thing, just not the idea of using his sister and girlfriend. But, for lack of anyone else, you’ll do. When can we do this?”
“Give me a few days.” I had a party to get through and a former prostitute turned friend to coerce into helping.
10
After a day of aimlessly drifting through the motions of being a successful author and conjuring up horrible images of my niece at the hands of evil men, I now flipped through television channels with the speed of time. My next step depended on whether my gut feelings about Bomberg’s party was correct. If I was wrong, I wasn’t sure going undercover as a teenage girl would work. Either way, it was most likely the dumbest idea I’d ever gotten involved in.
I was twenty-eight years old. Who was going to believe me to be nineteen?
The ringing of the doorbell pulled me out of my musings. I tossed the remote control on the sofa and answered the door.
Rusty reached inside and yanked me out. “Light is on.”
“Okay.” I frowned. “Maybe because I’m still awake?”
“At foster house.” He whirled and leaped off the porch.
“Sadie, we’re going jogging!” I grabbed her leash off a hook by the door.
“Not without me.” Mom handed me a beanie. “Cover that beacon of a head of yours. Do I have time to change into dark clothes?”
“No.” I sighed. The last time Mom went with me to check out a house, she’d insisted we dress all in black like a couple of spies. “We’re going to pretend we’re jogging. We can’t wait.”
She slipped her feet into Keds. “Ready.”
I did the same with a pair of my niece’s Converses, and choked back tears, hoping, praying, she’d get to wear them again. I clipped the leash to Sadie’s collar, grabbed a flashl
ight from the foyer table, and raced outside to follow Rusty, who was already halfway to Carol’s former house.
“Wait.” Mom thrust my purse at me when she caught up.
“No one takes their purse jogging.”
“It has your gun and Tazer.”
Right. I slung the purse over my shoulder and kept running. By the time we reached the corner, we were both panting for breath.
“Maybe a more gentle job?” Mom bent over at the waist.
“Definitely. Come on.” I grabbed her arm.
“I’m going to die.” She groaned and followed.
When we reached the house in the cul de sac, Rusty hunched behind some bushes. “Light still there.”
“Great. Stay here and whistle if someone comes.”
His face scrunched. “Like a bird?”
“Yes. Exactly like that.”
“What kind of bird?”
“Any bird, Rusty.” I sighed, handed him Sadie’s leash, and grabbed Mom’s hand, hoping that if he actually whistled, I would be able to tell the difference between him and a feathered friend.
With Mom’s hand firmly in mine, I made my way to the big front window and peered through a crack in the curtains. Sure enough, the beam of a flashlight bobbed around the room. I reached over and slowly turned the doorknob. Locked.
“We’ll have to go around back,” I whispered.
“Let go of my hand and get your gun out.”
I liked holding her hand. I knew where she was and didn’t feel as scared. “What if I shoot you?”
“Please don’t.” She scooted around the corner of the house.
I dug my gun out of my purse and duck-walked after her, only standing straight when I passed the window. I thought of calling Wayne, but what if it were nothing more than kids goofing around in a vacant house? I’d rather he spent his time searching for Cherokee, than chasing wild geese down the proverbial trail.
“Kitchen door is open.” Mom’s hoarse whisper sounded abnormally loud.
“Get behind me.” I stepped in front of her. Holding my weapon in both hands, I stepped over the threshold and into a room lit only by a moon playing hide-n-go-seek with the clouds. I didn’t dare turn on my flashlight and give away our presence.
Nosy Neighbor: All 7 complete Nosy Neighbor cozy mysteries PLUS: 2 short Christmas stories (A Nosy Neighbor mystery) Page 67