by Sybil Bartel
Older, like late-thirties older, custom-cut dress shirt, fancy belt, dress slacks, the man’s biceps strained against the light blue material of his shirt. He held his hand out and smiled. “I’m Javier.”
His brown eyes were hard, but his smile was nice. I shook his hand. “Emily. Thank you for the soda.”
“No problem.” He had a slight accent. “Not drinking tonight?”
I laughed. “I already drank too much.”
“Ah.” He nodded sympathetically. “Sometimes it is best to know one’s limits.”
I’d reached my limit and passed it. Hours ago. Right about the time Phoebe went upstairs to a VIP room with a professional football player. “Yeah, well, sometimes you just have a bad day.”
A seat vacated next to me, and Javier smiled. Grabbing my drink, he moved around behind me to take the now empty stool. “So tell me, what is a bad day for a girl like you?” He set my Coke down and pushed it toward me with another smile.
I swiveled to face him and the room spun a bit. Taking a sip of my Coke before I answered, I hoped to God I didn’t barf all over him. “Fired. Boy trouble.”
Javier nodded again, but slow, as if he were thinking. “Perhaps that is your problem.”
“What problem?” Did I tell him my problem? I took another gulp of the icy-cold soda.
“You should not be with a boy, senorita. You need a man.”
I laughed, but it sounded far away. “Let me guess, a man like you?”
“No,” he said, deadly serious. “Not like me. You need a man that can afford you.” He leaned closer. “So tell me, Emily. Are you a virgin?”
“What?” I tried to push him away, but my hand was suddenly too heavy to lift.
His eyes zeroed in on me. “Your hair, your outfit, your makeup—you dress like a woman.” He glanced at my feet. “But your shoes say you are a little girl.”
I looked down at my favorite pair of ballet flats with little bows on them. Panic crept in, but just as soon as the thought took hold, my bones turned to wiggly Jell-O. “I love my shoes.” My voice slurred.
“Yes or no, senorita? Are you a virgin? We haven’t much time.”
Time? I swayed on the stool. “Shit.”
He grabbed my elbow and his hand squeezed as his voice turned angry. “Virgin or not?”
“Yes, okay,” I slurred. “Virgin.” I didn’t know why I was telling him, no more than I understood why the words were heavy on my tongue. “I need to go…” I had to force another word out. “Home.” My purse slipped from my lap, and I watched it fall to the ground in slow motion before I thought to reach for it. “Oh no.” I tipped forward.
An arm went around my waist, and suddenly I was on my feet. “Yes, senorita, it is time to go.”
My mouth opened, my tongue pushed out, and the word no formed in my brain. But nothing except an indistinguishable sound came out.
“Do not worry.” The man smiled like he was happy again. “We will get you a proper home, virgen.”
MY RIFLE IN HAND, I stepped through the palmettos. Cicadas chirped and moisture dripped off the pines. I should not have left her with her sister.
A small animal scurried under the brush, and I stilled automatically. Slowing my breath, I listened. North, northwest. Two yards.
Dead of night, I couldn’t see anything. But I could hear it.
I lifted my rifle and peered through the nightscope.
I was off. One and a half yards.
The rabbit’s ears went back in fear.
He should have been asleep.
I should have been asleep.
Not hungry enough to kill it, I lowered my aim, and my cell phone vibrated in my cargo pocket.
An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen, and my heart rate sped up. I only had two numbers programmed on the phone. This was neither.
I answered but did not say anything.
Music and city street noise sounded in the background, then, “Callan?”
The sister.
Her voice panicked, she spoke again. “Are you there?”
“What is it, Phoebe?” I was already walking back to my quarters.
“It’s Em.” She started crying. “I’m so sorry!”
I started to jog. “What happened?”
“I was….” She choked on a sob. “I was upstairs with a guy, and she was with our friends on the dance floor, but they said she went to the bar for a drink. And then there was this guy, and now she’s gone, and I have her purse, but the wallet’s empty and her cell phone is missing. Her purse was on the floor at the bar, just abandoned. She’s not answering any of my calls, and she would never leave her purse.” The words bled out of her mouth with guilt. “I’m sorry I’m bothering you, but I didn’t know who else to call.”
“How did you get this number?”
“Don’t be mad, but when Em went to the bathroom earlier, I copied your number off her phone.” A sob escaped. “Oh my God, I lost her.”
My rifle slung over my shoulder, I palmed my keys as I hit the clearing my cabin was in. “Where are you, exactly.”
“Club Frenzy.” She gave the address. “Should I call the police? She’s over eighteen. I know they won’t do anything, but maybe they will? Because of her purse? Oh, God.” She cried harder.
“No, do not call them.” I had a better resource. “When did you see her last?” I switched to speakerphone and typed in the address she gave me on my phone’s GPS.
“I mean, I saw her on the dance floor before I went upstairs to the VIP room. But Amber and Sky saw her after that.”
“What time?” I demanded, jumping in my truck.
“I don’t know. Maybe midnight? Twelve-thirty?”
Thirty-three minutes ago. “Did anyone see her leave?”
“No, no one. That’s just it. Amber said she was sitting at the bar one minute and the next she was just gone. They looked all over the club, then came and got me, and we looked everywhere. She’s not in any of the VIP rooms or the bathroom, and no one saw her leave. She wouldn’t do that without letting one of us know.”
My back teeth ground together. “How much alcohol did you give her?”
“Not that much, I swear.”
“Did you look outside the club?”
“It’s—it’s not in the best neighborhood. The bouncer wouldn’t help us. He said he was busy.”
I sped down the dirt road leading toward the county road that would take me back to Miami. “I am on my way.” I glanced at the cell phone screen. “Twenty minutes. Wait for me outside the club, in front, by security if there is any.”
“There’re two bouncers out front.”
I did not know what a bouncer was, and I did not care. “Wait there.” I hung up and called a number I said I would never call.
André Luna answered on the third ring. “It’s a little late for a social call.”
“Does she know it is me calling?” I did not want to interfere in Decima’s life.
“No. I stepped outside the bedroom, figuring you wouldn’t be calling unless the damn world was coming to an end. What’s up?”
He was right, but that did not make me dislike him any less. “A female has gone missing.”
“Women go missing every day.”
Not this one. “She is my… stepsister.”
“I’m not chasing compound women for you.” Anger bled into his tone. “Those people have a right to their privacy after all the shit they been through. So, unless you got something else to say, I’m hanging the fuck up.”
I bit back anger. “She is not River Ranch. She is my father’s stepdaughter.”
Pause. “You got a father? A real one?”
“Theodore Anders.”
“Jesucristo,” Luna sighed. “Start talking.”
I did not have time to talk. Time was critical in finding a trail. “I am on my way to Club Frenzy. She disappeared from there thirty-five minutes ago.”
“Unless you start giving me details, I can’t help you.”
/> My jaw ticked. “I found my biological father after I dismantled the compound. He is remarried to a woman with two daughters, Emily and Phoebe Faraday. Emily was at the club with her sister and two other females when she left the dance floor to go to the bar. They saw her speaking with a man, then she was gone. Her purse was found on the floor at the bar. They do not believe she left of her own accord.” And neither did I.
Keys of a computer clicked. “All right, give me everything you have. Full name, age, address, whatever you have.”
I repeated her name and gave him her address. “I do not know her exact age. Early twenties.”
“Sending you a picture. Is this her?”
An image appeared on my cell phone, and I glanced at it. “Yes.” It was an older photo, but it was her.
“All right. I did some work for Frenzy a while back. With any luck, I still have access to their security feeds. Give me a sec.” He typed for a moment. “What time did she disappear?”
“Around twelve-thirty.”
“Okay, I’m in. I’m starting with the exterior security cameras at midnight. What was she wearing?”
“I do not know.”
“Find out and this will go a lot quicker.”
“I will call you back.” I hung up and dialed the number the sister had called me from.
She answered on the first ring. “Are you close?”
“Yes. What was Emily wearing?”
“A black mini dress and flats.”
A mini dress? “Flats?”
“Yes, flats, like shoes with no heels. Like what a ballerina would wear, but in black. They had red bows on them.”
It sounded like something a child would wear, and nothing like what the woman I had met would wear. “I will be there soon.” I hung up and called Luna back.
He did not wait for me to say hello. “I think I have her. What was she wearing?”
“A black mini dress and shoes without heels, flats. They had red bows on them.”
He said something in Spanish I took for a curse word. “I found her, but you’re not gonna like this.”
I gripped the steering wheel. “Tell me.”
“She was walked out at twelve thirty-nine by a male, six foot, maybe six one, wearing a blue shirt and black pants.” He exhaled. “She was being held up. She looks loaded, or worse.”
Why did people not say what they meant? “Worse?”
“Roofied.”
“I do not understand.”
“Mierda,” he said quietly. “It’s a date-rape drug. This girl usually drink a lot?”
My nostrils flared, and I fought from pounding my fist into the dashboard. “I do not know, but my guess is no. I need information on which direction he took her, if you see a vehicle, if anyone else was with them. What did the man look like?”
“Already on it. And the guy had his head down the whole time as if he knew where the security cameras were.”
Cursing was not permitted on the compound growing up, and it had never become a part of my vernacular, but right then I was ready to curse the Lord I used to believe in. “I am almost to the club. I need whatever leads you can give me.”
“I’m coming to meet you. I checked security feeds for which direction the guy took her but lost them around the southwest corner of the club. I’m handing this over to my men on shift so they can cross-check the traffic cameras and any other security cameras in the area they can hack into. I’ll meet you in front of the club in ten minutes.”
“I am not asking you to meet me.” I was trained to hunt alone.
“No, you didn’t ask,” Luna clipped. “You just called in the middle of the night wanting help.”
“I am not arguing.”
Luna sighed. “Look, Anders, I don’t doubt you’re skilled, but this is what I do, and I have resources you don’t. If you want to find this girl sooner rather than later, I’m offering to help. Club Frenzy has a shit reputation, and they’ve had problems in the past. If it were me, I’d want all eyes on this as soon as possible. The first few hours are critical for finding someone.”
I did not have an argument against his reasoning. “Fine.”
“See you in a few.” He hung up.
I followed the directions from the cell phone’s GPS to the club. Then I drove the street that bordered the club to the south and west, looking at every parked car for signs of her or a man in a blue shirt. Finding nothing, I parked and walked to the front of the club.
The sister saw me coming and ran up to me, grabbing my arm like I was hers. “Oh thank God you’re here.” Makeup ran down her face. “We checked inside again a few minutes ago, but she’s not there.” Panic laced her voice.
Two women walked up behind the sister. All were wearing dresses that were too short and their faces were painted.
One of the women addressed me with wide eyes. “You’re the stepbrother?”
Ignoring her, I removed the sister’s hand from my arm. “Did anyone inside see anything?”
The sister shook her head. “Not really. One of the bartenders said some guy paid for her Coke and a few minutes later they left.”
I had to ask. “Does she leave dance clubs with strange men often?”
Tears filled the sister’s eyes, and she bit her bottom lip like her sibling. “You don’t understand,” she said quietly.
“Explain,” I demanded.
One of the women flinched at my tone while the other suddenly looked off at the crowd of people lined up waiting to get into the club. But none of the women spoke.
“Answer me,” I warned.
The sister twisted her hands. “She doesn’t….” She looked down at her feet. “Emily’s never done that.”
“Done what?”
“Gone home with a guy,” she blurted.
It was of little consolation at this point, but I nodded. Two black SUVs I recognized pulled up in front of the club. “Wait here,” I instructed.
I met Luna as he got out of the front SUV. “Anything new?”
Luna glanced over my shoulder. “Is that the sister and her friends?”
I nodded.
Luna tipped his chin at the driver of the second SUV as he walked up to us. “Take those three women home.” He looked at me. “Tell the sister Tyler is driving them all home.”
The same instinct that told me I was on the right path hunting kicked in. “You know something.”
Luna nodded. “I’ll tell you in the car. Give your keys to Tyler. He’ll have your truck taken to my office.”
I handed my keys to Tyler with a nod of thanks, then turned to the sister. “Tyler is taking you and your friends home.”
“Wait, what’s going on? Who are these men?” She glanced nervously at Tyler. “You’re just going to leave? We haven’t found her yet. We need to call the police.” With every new sentence, her voice pitched higher.
I spared her ten seconds of my time, which was more compassionate than what she had done for her sister. “You let your sister, who is inexperienced with men, get drugged and taken from a club because you were selfish and careless. The only thing you did right was to call me, but I suspect it was only because you were too cowardly to call your stepfather. Tyler is taking you home, where you will wait to hear from me.”
Shock, then an incredulous expression spread across her features. “I’m not letting some stranger take me home.”
I glared at her. “Like you let some stranger take your sister?” I did not wait for an answer. “Tyler is with Luna and Associates, a personal security firm. Unlike your sister right now, you will be safe.” I got in the passenger seat of Luna’s SUV and shut the door.
Luna handed me a tactical vest with body armor, then pulled into traffic. “Lock box under your seat. Gear up.”
I strapped the vest on, reached down, pulled out the box, and opened it. Two 9mms with magazines were sitting in a foam cradle. I loaded both. “What did you find?”
“She was taken by Javier Estevez.” Luna stopped at a light and
looked at me. “He’s a known sex trafficker.”
SWEAT DRIPPED DOWN MY face, my head pounded, and I blinked, but nothing happened.
Darkness.
Rubbing my eyes, I blinked again.
Total darkness.
Fear spread across my hot skin and stole my breath. I pushed into a sitting position, and that’s when I heard it. Breaths. Lots of breaths.
The worst headache of my life throbbing against my temples, tears welled. “Hello?” My voice echoed, and I flinched.
No response.
I listened as gooseflesh shot up my arms despite the sweltering heat.
Breaths. Breathing. I heard it, I knew I did.
I whispered this time. “Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
My hands felt the ground, but it felt like metal. A wall at my back, I slowly reached behind me.
Ridges. Metal ridges.
Sheer panic taking over, I furiously patted the wall to my left and right, rising on my knees as I went. Ridge after ridge, a distinctive pattern took over.
Oh my God.
Oh my God.
My stomach bottomed out. I leaned over and heaved.
Convulsing lurches taking over, I gagged and gagged, but nothing except bile came out because I hadn’t eaten.
Seconds, minutes, hours later, the heaving stopped, and I sank back to my ass. My hand came down and plastic crunched. Fear like I’ve never known stole all my reason, and I jerked my hand back before my mind made the connection to the shape.
Panting, no air, I tentatively reached down again and my fingers closed over a plastic bottle. A full bottle. Picking it up, I shook it and almost wept.
Water.
Or drinkable liquid.
I fingered the cap and let out a breath when I twisted and a familiar sound cracked through the silence that had so far only been punctuated with breathing.
Bringing the bottle to my nose, I sniffed.
No scent.
Oh God, what if it was poison?
Bile burning my throat, I decided I didn’t care. I risked a sip, and the best tasting water I’d ever had slid down my throat and ended too quickly. I swallowed two more gulps before I forced myself to stop and wait.
Wait for pain.
Wait for frothing at the mouth.
Wait for death.