by Rebecca Deel
“Prove it, because from where I stand, she’s a suspect. I’ve already asked for a complete background check on her, including her bank accounts. Might be interesting to see if she’s had any sizable deposits made to her account in the last month. I'd love to find out she has an account in the Cayman Islands. I think she’s dirty, Eli, and she conned you.”
“Grace gave me a Coke and one to Brenna, but Grace didn’t drink anything.”
“Proves nothing, my friend. You were unconscious, remember? Maybe only your Coke was drugged. Brenna could have downed her whole drink without any ill effects.”
“No.” Stitches popped at the seams of Cal’s shirt “That’s not true.”
“How do you know it’s not? Talk it out, Eli,” Cal prompted. “Convince me.”
“Because . . .” Eli closed his eyes. A memory floated at the edge of his awareness. What was it? A vague memory, almost like a dream, of a woman crying, calling his name, touching him. Brenna. He knew that touch. Her weight collapsing across his chest, the sweet smell of her shampoo. Vague impressions. Brenna begging someone, maybe Grace and her accomplice, to leave him alone, not to kill him, her words mushy as if drunk. A man’s voice, then blackness until he woke to Cal’s ugly mug.
He opened his eyes and glared at Cal. “She was drugged as well.”
“How do you know?”
“She collapsed on top of me. I remember her begging someone not to kill me, her words slurred.” His eyes misted. “She tried to protect me.” He wished she had begged Grace or the man to take him with her. At least when he recovered, he might have been able to help get her free. Now he’d have to do this the hard way and pray the traffickers didn’t rape or sell Brenna or worse, kill her, before he found her. And he would find her, no matter how long the search lasted. He would never give up until he located her or, he swallowed hard, her body.
“From who? Grace, someone else?”
Eli thought hard, his gut tightening into a knot. “I heard a man talking to Grace.”
“Sartelli?” Jon asked.
“I don’t think so.” Eli released his grip on Cal’s shirt a second time. “We were in the Sartelli kitchen, but I don’t think he was home. I don’t remember seeing him.”
Jon snorted. “You sure wouldn’t have sat down to share a Coke with Sartelli, Eli.”
“I found your Go bag on the floorboard of your car,” Cal said. “Do you remember why you had it out of your trunk?”
Another memory zipped across his mind too fast to grasp. Something about kissing and Spearmint gum. Brenna in his arms. His hands under her shirt? Heat burned his cheeks. Why would he have his hands on her skin? Eli jerked his head around to pin Jon with his gaze. “Tags.”
His friend raced from the room. Knowing Jon, his laptop was locked in the trunk of his car.
“You tagged her with your tracking devices?” Cal sat beside him on the edge of the hospital bed. “What made you do that? Think, Eli.”
Aggravation welled in him as his memories skated away. “I can’t remember anything except kissing Brenna and Spearmint gum.”
“Must have been some kiss,” Cal said.
Another angry scowl at his friend which resulted in a grin on the cop’s smirking face. “How did I get here?”
“The Sartelli chef found you on the kitchen floor when she returned from the grocery store. She called for an ambulance and Metro PD. The responding officer recognized you and notified me.”
“How did Grace get Brenna out of the estate? The gate guard would have noticed an unconscious woman in the front seat.”
“According to the gate log, Grace left ten minutes before the chef returned. The guard thought it a little odd for her to leave you and Brenna inside the estate, but he didn’t have a chance to investigate. The estate security system showed a breach at the back of the property. The guard found signs of an attempt to scale the fence.”
Eli sighed. “The man I heard probably tripped a sensor. Doesn’t Sartelli have security cameras? Can’t imagine Jason Thompson leaving a hole in the security grid.”
“The camera covering that part of the fence showed nothing. Someone hacked into the computer because the camera recording was time stamped for yesterday.”
“So it showed nothing but blue skies and trees.”
“You got it.”
Jon rushed through the door, computer case in hand. He unzipped the bag, flipped up the lid and turned on his laptop.
“Where are my clothes?” Eli asked Cal.
“Bagged and tagged as evidence. I brought your clothes from the Go bag.” He nodded at the chair beside the bed.
Eli grabbed his jeans and pulled them on, grateful the hospital staff hadn’t stripped his underwear although going commando wouldn’t have stopped him. Nothing would keep him in this place with Brenna’s life in danger. Jon’s fingers flew over the laptop keyboard, clicked in rapid rhythm.
“Eli, you can’t leave the hospital.” Cal grabbed his arm, hindering Eli from buttoning his jeans. “The doctor said you took a heavy dose of that drug.”
“If the Scarlett Group had your girlfriend, would you lay in a hospital bed and sleep?” He yanked his arm free and reached behind him to untie the hospital-issued gown. “Find a nurse to unhook this IV in the next two minutes or I’ll yank it out myself.”
A sharp look at his statement, then, “She means that much to you?”
Eli narrowed his eyes.
Muttering about idiots who don’t listen to medical professionals, Cal stalked from the room.
He tugged socks on his feet and slipped into the running shoes he kept in his bag. “Anything?”
“Yep. Hold on.” More keystrokes. “5539 Paintsville Pike, outside Murfreesboro.” Jon growled.
Heart pounding, Eli jumped to his feet. “What?”
“We have to hurry. That’s Sartelli’s mother-in-law’s place.” A tortured expression flitted through Jon’s eyes. “Sartelli had a private airstrip put in a few years ago.”
“Cal!” Eli glanced at the clock. Six o’clock. He’d been out of it for four hours and Nashville traffic would be at a standstill this time of the night. How much longer would Grace remain at the old lady’s place? What if they had discovered the tracking tags and left them at the house, but took Brenna somewhere else?
His stomach threatened to hurl the water he’d drunk to the room’s farthest corner. He’d never find Brenna before they hurt her. She had trusted him to protect her and find Dana. What if he failed, again?
Cal hit the room at a dead run, a male nurse at his heels. “Did you find her?” he asked Jon, pulling out his cell phone.
Jon turned his computer screen so Cal could read the information.
While Cal called the Rutherford County Sheriff’s department, asking for deputies to assist, the nurse removed Eli’s IV. Eli watched the procedure, mentally urging the man to hurry. He feared he might already be too late.
A key rattled in the lock and bright light blinded Dana. She squinted against the glare. Skyscraper. Better than Ape man. Another bathroom break?
“Let’s go.” He grabbed her arm and hustled her into the hall.
“Wait. Where are we going?” Right. Like he’d tell her after weeks of silence. Still weak and wrapped in brain fog from the last injection, Dana stumbled against her captor. With a vile curse, he threw her over his shoulder and ran down the hall past the bathroom.
The black-and-white floor tiles sped by at a gut-churning pace. She moaned. If Skyscraper didn’t stop bouncing her stomach against his shoulder, she’d leave more than bread crumbs behind. Not in any condition to defend herself against possible repercussions from him, Dana doggedly fought the nausea and prayed for a quick end to their journey.
Skyscraper raced up two flights of stairs and threw open a door.
Dana breathed deep. Fresh air. For the first time in days, she dragged in breaths of hot, humid Tennessee air. She smiled. No doubt about where she was now. No other place on earth like it. Turning her
head to the side, Dana forced her eyelids up. Had to be late afternoon or early evening from the amount of daylight left. The sun’s rays bathed her face in heat, a welcome change from weeks of air conditioned captivity. Needed sun glasses. Dana squinted against the unaccustomed glare.
She had to figure out where they were holding her, find a way to escape. She almost laughed at her crazy thoughts. Sure, and after escaping she’d jog to the nearest town and call the cops. She doubted her ability to walk two feet on her own much less escape Skyscraper and Ape man and their friends.
Still, she had to try if they left her an opening. But what about Julie? Guilt pricked her conscience. She couldn’t leave the terrified teenager in the hands of these creeps.
“What’s the hurry?” Dana scowled at the slurred words coming out of her mouth. What had these clowns shot her up with?
“Shut up.”
He ran up an incline and onto a slab of concrete. Dana frowned. A driveway? No, they couldn’t move her. How would Jon and Eli find her? She started to struggle, realized after a few seconds that she was only exhausting herself. Skyscraper didn’t seem to notice her movements. “Please, don’t do this. Let me go.”
“Open the door,” Skyscraper called to someone.
“No.” Dana found herself off the shoulder and face to face with her angry guard.
“Give me any more trouble, I’ll shut you up without a shot of happy juice. Got it?”
The expression on his face told the story. Skyscraper meant what he said. She tried to swallow, couldn’t. Whatever drug he’d given her left her mouth feeling as if she hadn’t drunk water in days. “Yes.”
Ape man stepped into her line of vision, smirking. “Too bad, baby.” His gaze stripped Dana bare of the scrubs the doctor had given her to wear. “I wanted a taste of your sweetness.”
She shuddered, revulsion crawling through her body at the idea of his hands and mouth anywhere on her.
Skyscraper shoved her toward the waiting white van. “Inside.”
Dana fell against the rear bumper, her ribcage and arms taking the brunt of the hit. Pain stole her breath and the ability to move.
Cursing, Ape man grabbed her around the waist and threw her into the darkened interior of the vehicle. Dana caught a glimpse of Julie. The teen didn’t move, even when she sprawled on top of the girl’s legs. The door slammed shut and total darkness enclosed her. Seconds later, the engine cranked and the van began to move.
On hands and knees, she crawled to Julie’s shoulder. “Julie. Hey, you okay?” she whispered. A moan, then nothing. Dana shook her. If she could get Julie to help with an escape attempt, they might have a chance. “Come on, wake up.” No response.
Despair sapped Dana’s small store of energy. She couldn’t leave her young friend in the hands of these animals. “Julie. Come on, baby. You have to wake up.” She shook her friend harder, then switched to tapping her cheeks.
Finally, Julie stirred and came awake with a gasp.
“You’re okay, Julie. It’s Dana.”
“Where are we?” Her words sounded mushy.
“In the back of a van. That’s why there isn’t any light.”
“Are we going home? Did they call Mom?”
Dana hated to dash her hopes. “I don’t think so. Skyscraper and Ape man didn’t say anything about letting us go home.” She refused to say what she suspected the outcome of this move might be—either being sold or killed. She fought back a sudden surge of tears. This was so unfair for both of them. Julie deserved a life doing what she’d dreamed in medicine and Dana wanted a chance with Jon. Looked like neither of them would see their dreams become a reality.
Julie started crying. “But, Dana, how will Mom and Chad find me? They can’t move me.”
Dana pulled the girl into her arms and rocked her, swaying with the motion of the van. “Calm down, Julie. We have to think, come up with a plan.” Yeah, tough words when she could barely string sentences together. She beat down the urge to quit. She must find a way to free Julie, if nothing else. But how? The girl seemed to be in worse shape than Dana. Probably a result of being in Skyscraper’s hands for a week longer. What if Ape man killed Julie because she was so much worse off? Resolve hardened in Dana. No. She couldn’t let that happen.
“What can we do? These guys are so strong and I can’t stand by myself any longer.”
Dana stroked her hair. “I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.”
The police siren screaming overhead added teeth to the already vicious headache pounding inside Eli’s skull. He drank more water from the liter bottle his nurse had shoved into his hand right before he checked himself out of the hospital in true Wolfe fashion. He’d run without waiting for permission from the doctor. One corner of his mouth curved upward. Well, okay, he had walked out, his friends on either side ready to catch him before Eli hit the floor. The definition of a true friend in his book. He’d made it to Cal’s SUV before collapsing into the front seat.
Eli glanced at the speedometer. He wanted to yell at his teammate to step on it, but at 120 miles per hour, Cal had pushed the gas pedal to the floor. Eli’s jaw clenched. He needed to go faster.
Cal’s cell rang. He grabbed the cell and tossed it to Eli. “You answer it. I’m kind of busy here.” He muttered curses under his breath when another civilian driver pulled to the left instead of to the right in response to his siren. With a quick glance in the rearview mirror, Cal whipped the vehicle into the right lane and raced past the driver.
Eli flipped open Cal’s phone. “Yeah?”
“Detective Taylor?”
“This is Wolfe, his partner.” Cal shot him a glare. Eli just grinned. He had to tell the guy something believable, didn’t he?
“This is Crocker, a deputy with the Rutherford County Sheriff’s office. We’re five minutes from the residence and airstrip. The Tennessee Highway Patrol is on alert, but no signs yet of the suspect’s white van or Lexus SUV on the interstate.”
“Copy that. We’re exiting the interstate now.” Eli clamped his hand on the overhead grip to keep his balance as Cal used top-notch combat driving skills to maneuver around vehicles and swung his SUV to the right. “Park some of your guys on that tarmac. Do not let any plane off the ground. We believe hostages may be on board.”
“We’ll do our best.”
“Who was it?” Cal asked, again weaving in and out of traffic.
“Crocker with the Sheriff’s office. They’re five minutes out.”
Cal glanced at the clock and swore.
“Yeah,” Eli said. “I know.” Fear formed a ball of ice in his belly. The chances of finding the women before the plane took off hovered between a sliver and absolute zero. “Jon?” He glanced over his shoulder at his partner.
Jon’s gaze remained on the screen “Still no movement.”
Eli tried to convince himself that was a good thing, but his gut knew better than to swallow that lie. “If they get off the ground?”
His face hardened. “We’ll find them.”
Eli twisted around in his seat, his hand in a death grip around the phone. They had to get to the airstrip before that plane left the ground. He swallowed hard. If it hadn’t already left the ground. Hold on, baby.
Brenna glanced around at her surroundings, zip ties biting into her wrists. Thick carpeting, plush seats, a large screen television. More luxurious than other planes she had ridden in. “Wow. A posh prison. Should I feel privileged?”
“Shut up.” Grace gestured with the gun for her to sit. “You won’t make many more smart remarks. I have something very special in mind for you.” She laughed. “Guaranteed to break you of that annoying habit.”
Goosebumps surged across Brenna’s skin. Any surprise Grace had in mind likely meant humiliation and pain. How had Dana misjudged this woman? The answer was obvious. Her sister had serious trust issues, but with men. She doubted Dana ever considered Grace might have ulterior motives.
Not that Brenna could claim great insight into
the human psyche on her own behalf. Her misplaced trust in Grace had brought Eli into this crazy woman’s path. Tears stung her eyes. He had to survive the drug Grace dumped in his drink. She wouldn’t believe otherwise. To survive SEAL missions all over the globe only to be killed by poison at the hands of this woman? No. She wouldn’t believe it.
Brenna resisted the urge to scratch the skin around the tracking tags. She’d neglected to mention how adhesives always caused a skin rash, figured the tags wouldn’t be in place long enough to cause problems. If the tags did their job, she’d gladly slap lotion on the itchy places. Her lips curved upward. Or let Eli apply the lotion. He wouldn’t mind the job.
“Why are you involved with the Scarlett Group? Money? Blackmail? Is Sartelli forcing you to do this?”
“Sartelli has nothing to do with Scarlett Group.” Grace frowned and shoved Brenna into a nearby gray seat. “Scarlett is mine. I built it from the ground up.”
“Then why were you working for Sartelli?” Brenna pushed herself into a more upright position. “The flesh trade doesn’t pay well enough for your lifestyle?”
“Sartelli is nothing but a fool. His wife’s money built the company. The only thing he accomplished is expansion into different parts of the country. But those expansions gave me access to more merchandise.”
“Merchandise?” Brenna glared at the woman holding a gun pointed at her chest. “Most of them are young teenage girls with their whole lives ahead of them. How would you feel about being merchandise for sale?”
“I used to be ‘merchandise for sale’ as you phrased it.” Grace’s eyes glittered. “My mother ran off when I was a baby and left me in my father’s care. Dear old dad ran a stable of low-rent hookers. One night, one of his women got sick. He sent me in the woman’s place and threatened to beat me if I didn’t satisfy his customer. My career blossomed from there.”
“So instead of just being a victim of abuse, you became an abuser. Why didn’t you call the police or social services when you were a teen and report your father?”
Grace poked Brenna’s chest with the gun’s barrel. “I became a survivor.” She leaned in close enough to whisper, “I built my own empire on what dear old dad taught me along with his johns.”