Silent is the Grave

by Candle Sutton

  None of his business.

  Even if every minute that passed increased the desire to make it – make her – his business.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  Ray straightened as two people rounded the corner of the marina office. Even back in a ponytail, he’d recognize those red curls anywhere.

  No sign of the girl though.

  He cursed. He needed both. The girl especially. Where was she?

  The two drew closer.

  Ray’s lungs clutched.

  That man! It was the cop, the one he’d caught Javier talking to four years ago, the day before he’d effectively ended Javier’s traitorous life. The cop had been in uniform then, not plainclothes, but he’d know that face anywhere.

  What were the chances he was also the same cop who had been seen with that guy asking about Celestine? Rafe something or other?

  Only one way to find out for sure.

  As the two approached a blue Mustang parked several spaces away, Ray pulled out his phone and snapped a picture.

  At least the cop hadn’t noticed him sitting here. Not very observant, was he?

  He texted the picture to his contact.

  Now. Follow them or continue surveillance of the marina?

  Marina. He’d bet money that the girl was staying with the redhead, probably laying low to avoid detection.

  But she had to come out sometime. And when she did, he’d have her.

  Twenty One

  Too warm. The rocking beneath her was gentle now, but could turn violent at a moment’s notice. The air held the stench of filth and death. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t eat, couldn’t think about anything but getting out of her dark prison.

  A gasp broke from Monica as she sat upright.

  Her t-shirt clung to her body, bulging slightly at the small bump at her abdomen, and her hair was plastered to her head.

  She had to leave!

  She blinked, looking around the small cabin. Where was…?

  Reality slipped in. She wasn’t in the hold of a cargo ship crossing the Pacific. There weren’t other kids like her around, kids who were sick and dying. She was safe. On Elly and Zeke and Josiah’s boat.

  But was she safe? Would she ever be truly safe?

  After everyone had left, a nap had sounded like such a good idea. But the nightmares… would they ever stop?

  Shaking hands shoved back the covers and she swung her legs over the edge of the bed.

  She had to get off this boat. Back on dry land, if only for a little while, to regain what was left of her sanity.

  No, she should stay here. Where it was safe. There were too many dangers out there.

  Well, yeah, but no one was looking for her here.

  Downtown, sure. At the youth center, obviously, but not here. It’d be safe enough.

  She took a quick shower and changed into the last clean set of clothes she had, then headed barefoot out onto the deck, shoes dangling from her fingers.

  The sun warmed her face as she stared at the city. Even the deck felt good under her bare feet.

  Was she sure about this?

  Yes. She wanted to walk. All this sitting wasn’t doing her any good. And she was sick of being cooped up like when she lived at the spa. No one was forcing her to stay here and she wanted to get out.

  She slipped on her shoes – which were about the only thing Elly hadn’t replaced – and left the solitude, and security, of the boat behind.

  As she approached the gate, her breath hitched.

  It wasn’t too late to turn back.

  Maybe she should. Elly hadn’t given her the code so she couldn’t even get back in when she was done walking.

  Her steps slowed.

  Yeah. This was a bad idea. Stupid really. She should just go back to the boat and…

  And what? Sit there all day? She should’ve gone with Elly to the youth center earlier. At least it would’ve gotten her out.

  She forced her feet to move forward. She was doing this. She wouldn’t allow those men, those bullies, to control her. Not anymore.

  Pulling in a deep breath, she released the gate. It clattered shut behind her.

  Done. Now she had no choice but to keep going, right?

  And be back here before it got late so she could watch for Elly, Zeke, or Josiah to come in.

  Crud. Maybe she should’ve gotten the number for that phone Elly bought. Or at least brought it with her. Elly had left it on the table in case she needed anything.

  She hadn’t even left a note to let them know what she was doing.

  If she didn’t catch them when they came back, she’d be stuck out here! And they’d probably think she’d run away.

  Why hadn’t she thought this through better?

  She turned and rattled the gate.

  It didn’t budge. Naturally.

  She was so stupid!

  For the first time in years, she’d had a safe place to sleep. A bed and a roof over her head. She hadn’t had to worry about who was going to come through her door and what they’d expect her to do. And she’d thrown it all away! For what? A walk. Dumb, dumb!

  Calm.

  The voice echoing in her head sounded a little like Elly’s.

  Yes, calm down. She’d be able to catch one of them coming in. If she took a short walk, then sat on one of those benches by the marina, she’d see them. They’d see her, too. It’d all be okay.

  Now to enjoy the sunshine, fresh air, and freedom.

  She passed the marina office, the skyscrapers of the city filling her vision.

  Pausing, she looked around. She wasn’t really familiar with this part of the city. Where should she walk?

  The marina had a small grassy picnic area, but nothing cool to look at.

  The Golden Gate Bridge loomed to her left. Not super close, but closer than she’d ever been to it before. It’d be kinda neat to see it up close. Could she walk there and get back in like an hour?

  Not that she had a watch or any way of telling time. She’d have to guess.

  Worth a try. Especially since she didn’t really see any parks or good places to hang out close by.

  She headed for the street, scanning the parking lot as she went. No sign of Fernando. Or Hector. Or any of the other guys she’d seen hanging around the spa.

  But she couldn’t have seen them all.

  Still, there wasn’t anyone hanging around. And no one looking at her.

  About twenty cars sat in the lot, as well as two big pickup trucks, three mini vans, a parcel delivery truck, and an exterminator’s van.

  Nothing that screamed trouble.

  She reached the road and started down the sidewalk. The road was mostly empty, but she could hear the sounds of city traffic a few blocks away.

  An engine sounded behind her.

  She fought the instinct to turn. It was just someone driving by. Nothing suspicious.

  The exterminator’s van cruised past.

  Phew. Nothing–

  The van whipped a u-turn and ground to a halt by the curb only feet away from her. A large man popped out of the driver’s door.

  Spiky brown hair, white skin, uniform. All that was missing was a knife.

  Run!

  She turned and raced back toward the marina. There should be someone in the office…

  A vise clamped onto her arm, jerking her backward.

  She screamed.

  The scream died abruptly as a hand circled her throat and squeezed.

  This was it. She was going to die here, alone. He’d probably dump her body in the ocean. Maybe no one would ever find her.

  While the one hand increased pressure on her throat, the other snaked around her core, pinning her arms and back against the rock-hard chest of the man behind her.

  He hustled her backward.

  If he got her in that van, she was as good as dead.

  She thrashed against his hold.

  The pressure on her throat increased, but she kept fighting.

  Not that it matte
red. The man was twice her size and so strong. Too strong for her to break free.

  In her peripheral, she saw the side of the van, the picture of the dead bug on the sign mocking her. This van didn’t exterminate bugs, it exterminated people.

  And she was the next target.

  The rear van door creaked open and she flew into the dim interior.

  Her shoulder banged against the metal floor. A cry broke from her throat.

  The vehicle rocked as he climbed in after her and slammed the door closed.

  She scrambled away from his reaching hands, but there was nowhere to go.

  Fingers tightened around her ankle and he dragged her back toward him, flinging her facedown on the floor.

  Pressure crushed her legs. Her arms were twisted behind her and pinned together at the wrist.

  Something hard wrapped around her wrists, pressing into the flesh. A series of clicking noises accompanied the tightening of whatever he’d used to bind her.

  Tears blurred the ridged floor in front of her. “Please let me go! I won’t tell no one! I’ll leave town and won’t tell no one!”

  “Shut up.” His words were calm, steady.

  A ripping sound filled the interior and something sticky pressed over her lips.

  The pressure vanished from her legs as she felt him lash her ankles together.

  A sob built in her chest, bubbling through the tape covering her mouth.

  The rear door opened and closed. Seconds later, she heard the driver’s door open, felt the van rock, and heard the engine roar to life.

  She twisted around to see him.

  A cell phone was in his hand. He punched a few buttons, then put the phone to his ear. “I got her. You got eyes on the other one?”

  Other one?

  How she wished she could hear the other end of the conversation!

  “Grab her when you get the chance. We take care of these loose ends today.”

  He lowered the phone and dropped it in a cup holder before shifting into drive.

  She let her head fall back against the cold metal.

  They’d found her. No one knew where she was or that she was in trouble.

  Except God.

  Please God. Don’t let ‘em kill me! Help me!

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  “We’ve got an ID.”

  Zander looked up at Morgan, who grinned like a dog with a bone.

  “You ID’d the killer?” Zander’s pulse quickened. This was it. If they caught this guy, he might finally be able to close the case on Jave’s murder.

  Plus, once this case was closed, he could follow through on his insane idea to ask Elly out.

  Women. Trouble.

  Somehow the mantra didn’t ring as true as it once had.

  “Sure did.” Morgan plopped the file down on the desk in front of him. “Guy named Ray Cutler. Former Army. Dishonorable discharge for insubordination. Evidently didn’t like taking orders.”

  “Criminal record?” Seemed unlikely or they would’ve gotten a hit on him sooner.

  “Nope. So either he’s new to this or he’s really good.”

  Zander would bet his small pension on the latter. “Last known address?”

  Morgan’s smile looked more like a grimace. “You ready for this? The address listed traces to an apartment in Chinatown. The elderly couple who lives there barely speak English but say they don’t know him. I tend to believe them.”

  So did he. With ties to the Almas, it seemed unlikely that this guy would be chummy with an elderly Asian couple.

  Zander’s cell phone rang.

  Ignore it. The solid lead in front of him was too important to push off.

  Then again, this could be important, too.

  He checked the caller ID.

  The youth center.

  Elly. If she was calling him, it was important. She hadn’t wasted his time yet.

  He accepted the call. “Salinas.”

  “Oh, Zander! I tried to stop her but she took off out of here like the place was burning down! You have to go now! There’s danger and, oh, I couldn’t stop her!” Betty’s voice shrilled in near hysterics.

  “Whoa, Betty. Slow down. Who took off?” As if he didn’t know. Already, his gut churned.

  “Elly! She suddenly got this look and went white as a ghost, I tell you, a ghost! Then she said they were going to kill Monica and I needed to call you to get there right now. Then she left and I couldn’t stop her!”

  If Monica was in trouble, then Elly was walking right into it. “Where?”

  “She didn’t say!” The words nearly wailed through the phone. “But you have to hurry! They’ll kill her, I just know it!”

  Unfortunately, he knew it, too. “Betty, I have to go. If you hear from her, call me, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “And Betty, pray.”

  Had he really said that? Well, it couldn’t hurt, right?

  He ended the call and slid his phone in his pocket.

  Tension rolled off Morgan. “What’s goin’ on?”

  “I guess Elly just took off saying something about Monica being in danger.”

  Morgan plucked his gun off the desk and holstered the weapon. “Where?”

  “I don’t know.” He shoved his badge in his pocket and snagged his keys off the desk. “I’m going to try the boat.”

  “We’re.” Morgan grabbed his own keys. “And I’m drivin’.”

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  There she was.

  And he had his instructions.

  She was moving quickly, but she was on foot. He could easily catch her with his vehicle.

  The hard part would be snagging her on this busy street.

  He paused.

  Why snag her if he could convince her to come willingly?

  He fingered the pistol in his pocket. If she wouldn’t come willingly, he could still use force, but if her connection to the girl was what Ray thought it was, then she might agree to come with him.

  He whipped the car into traffic, drove past the redheaded woman, and parked about a block up.

  In the side mirror, he saw her approaching. He waited until she was about three car lengths back, then climbed out and approached her.

  “Excuse me.” She tried to sidestep him, but he stepped into her path and held up a hand.

  “You lookin’ for Monica?”

  The name froze her movements.

  “She’s with us. You wanna see her alive again, you’re gonna come with me.”

  Her eyes locked on his face.

  Weird eyes. Purple. Freaky.

  The thoughts battled in his mind. He wanted to look away but found he couldn’t. Like a shackles on a prisoner, she held him there.

  “You’re going to kill her anyway.” The words were softly spoken. “You plan to kill both of us.”

  He could deny it, but what was the point? “Don’t know what they’ve got planned. I was just told to collect you. Now you’re gonna come with me, one way or another, so what’s it gonna be?”

  Curling his fingers around the gun, he waited for her to scream.

  Pull the gun, you idiot! His brain barked the order with the rapid succession of a fully automatic machine gun.

  Yet his arm refused to obey.

  Her gaze slid past him, then around them, as if looking for someone.

  Finally she sighed. “I’ll go. Just leave that gun in your pocket and don’t hurt anyone else.”

  He hadn’t planned on hurting anyone else, but if she wanted to believe he was gonna go on some kinda spree, that was fine with him. As long as it got him what he wanted.

  He jerked his head behind him. “See that red Explorer? You’re gonna go up to it and open the back door. Nice and slow or I’ll put one in your back, you got it?”

  A single nod precipitated her movement.

  As she slid into the back, he pushed her across and climbed in behind her. “Hands behind your back.”

  He pulled a zip tie from the duffel on the floorboard and lashed
her hands together, then did the same to her feet. Finally, he used a third zip tie to secure her tied hands to the armrest on the door.

  That oughta keep her.

  He climbed out and rushed to the driver’s door. A scruffy man in tattered clothing watched from a bench across the street but no one else seemed to be that interested in what he was doing.

  And he doubted that homeless man was planning to call the cops.

  As he pulled into traffic, his eyes strayed to the rearview. No sign of flashing lights, that was good.

  He adjusted the mirror so he could keep an eye on the redhead, too.

  She stared straight at him in the mirror. No smile, not that he expected one, but also no fear or anger. In fact, she almost looked peaceful, like being kidnapped was an everyday occurrence.

  Whatever. The chick was a freak.

  Solid rows of brake lights illuminated his path. He cursed as he ground to a halt.

  Up ahead he could see a variety of flashing lights. Probably a car accident or something. Whatever it was, no one was moving.

  Cars packed around him on both sides and from behind. There was no getting out of this jam now.

  He looked back at the girl, who still stared at him, still looked completely at ease.

  After checking to make sure that the door and window controls were locked, he settled in to wait. Traffic had to get moving again soon. Until then, the accident had bought the chick in the back seat a few more minutes to live.

  ₪ ₪ ₪

  “I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

  Rafe turned at the sultry voice behind him.

  Dang. This Latina was one hot chica. Black hair with red highlights, a five-alarm body that she didn’t try to hide, and lips the color of blood.

  He grinned. “Well I sure am now.”

  His charm fell flat. No warmth radiated from her stoic expression.

  Just the opposite, in fact.

  Her dark eyes looked like black holes and her lips pressed into a firm line.

  Then he noticed the two guys standing about twenty feet behind her. Their feet were planted shoulder width apart and their arms hung stiffly at their sides. Their orange and black attire immediately identified them.