Any regret he thought he saw was gone when she turned to him with a sneer. “The world’s a cruel, dark place, Luca. You should know that by now. None of us are getting out alive. We might as well enjoy the ride while we can, and to me, that means money. Lots and lots of it. We put our lives on the line daily, and we barely make enough to survive.” She pointed a finger at him like he had something to do with their salaries. “I wanted my fair share.”
She swore an oath to ensure the community's safety and quality of life, and she’d done the exact opposite. She made him sick.
“The only way you could know about the bunker is if the veterinarian told you,” Swanson realized. “That means you know where Vanessa Lacroix is right now. Tell me, and I’ll let you down so you can go home.”
Swanson must think he was born yesterday. The only way he was leaving was in a body bag. He knew it, and they knew it. He would not betray Vanessa as his last act on earth. “I have no idea.”
“Wrong answer.” With a rough jerk, Swanson twisted the handle, heaving Luca into the air. He didn’t feel the pressure around his neck anymore. That couldn’t be good. Darkness pressed in on him until he had no option but to surrender.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Vanessa watched the others scarf down the food she’d placed in front of them with a feeling of satisfaction. Though she enjoyed it, she rarely cooked, even when Todd lived with her. He’d been busy with school and working with her at the clinic. Owning her practice meant crazy hours, and she didn’t have the time. Some of her best memories were spent with her mom in the kitchen, learning different recipes. Once Todd moved out, she insisted on a Sunday brunch but even then, she didn’t always prepare the meal. Sometimes he brought take-out he picked up on the way, or they met at a restaurant.
Being forced to hide in a house with a chef’s kitchen brought back her joy of cooking. Having others appreciate what she prepared was heart-warming.
She’d been angry earlier, stomping to the refrigerator to take out her frustrations. But as she measured ingredients, she realized Quinn was just trying to protect her. Yes, his methods might be high-handed—much like her father—but she’d never forget the look on his face when she volunteered herself to draw out the bad guys. It’d been a mix of pure horror and stark fear.
As she chopped vegetables, she put herself in his place. If he’d been the one to offer himself as bait, she’d have reacted the same way. It was hell being in love. It was Heaven, too.
One of the best things about cooking for Quinn, Gage and Kaiya was that one of them would clean up afterward. That was the worst part of the meal prep process, in her opinion.
“Dinner was delicious. Thank you.”
She smiled at Quinn. “You’re welcome.” Her gaze lit on the empty place setting, and she frowned. “I thought Luca was joining us.”
Quinn’s brows dipped. “He was supposed to, but he’s not answering his phone or texts.”
“That’s not like him,” Kaiya said.
“I didn’t say anything sooner because it’s not exactly legal to tag a cop, but I put a tracker on him.” Quinn scooted his chair back and retrieved his laptop. Vanessa cleared his plate away, giving him room to place it on the table. She watched over his shoulder as he opened a program and checked the location of a blinking red dot. The screen switched to a satellite image, and he zoomed in. “It looks like he’s at some kind of warehouse.” He glanced at her. “Do you recognize the area?”
She leaned closer. “Yes, it’s an abandoned industrial park. There’s a lot of crime in the area. Drug deals, shootings.”
Quinn exchanged a worried look with Gage. “That doesn’t sound good. If he’d gotten a call, he’d have let us know.”
“You two check it out,” Kaiya said. “It’s my turn to do the dishes.”
Quinn and Gage donned their Kevlar vests, grabbed their weapons and Kilo and headed for the SUV. Vanessa followed them to the garage. “Stay safe and let us know what you find out.”
“I will,” Quinn promised.
#
It took less than ten minutes to arrive at the warehouse. The sun had set, and dusk only added to the eerie quality of the area. Quinn looked around at the decrepit, dilapidated buildings overgrown with weeds. Some looked a strong wind away from total collapse. Refuse littered the ground, and most of the structures had been tagged with elaborate graffiti. Many of the streetlights were broken. The further they traveled, the darker the shadows. He didn’t doubt Vanessa’s account of the area being a hotbed for criminal activity.
Gage guided him to the building where the red dot indicated Luca was right now. One dim bulb from an outside light illuminated a sedan parked by a door. It looked like the unmarked vehicle Luca drove. Had he come here to meet with a source?
Quinn’s phone buzzed. He checked the screen to see Cayleigh’s name and hit the speaker. “Hey, Cayleigh, what’s up?”
“The meeting’s over. I’m on my way to the safe house.”
“Kaiya and Vanessa are there, but Gage and I are checking on Detective Russo. He was supposed to meet us, but he never showed. We tracked him to an abandoned warehouse.” He cringed, hoping she didn’t ask how they traced him. Thankfully, she didn’t.
“Do you suspect foul play?”
“I’m not sure. We’re going in now.”
“No, don’t. Wait for me. Give me the address. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
He rattled off the location and disconnected. She was still miles away. No telling how long it would take for her to arrive.
“We’re going in anyway, aren’t we?” Gage asked, obviously on the same page as Quinn.
“Yes.”
They moved silently through the cavernous building. The space was dark, but two bright industrial lights on tripods beckoned them closer. Quinn motioned for Gage to stop when he spotted Luca hanging by his neck, his toes barely touching a block of wood beneath his feet. Blood seeped from a head wound, covering one side of his face. They couldn’t afford to wait for Cayleigh. They needed to act now. By the looks of it, Luca didn’t have much time left.
They’d come in behind the two people torturing him, which was fortunate. They wouldn’t see them approach. He motioned for Gage to head in one direction while he and Kilo circled to the other side. “Now,” he said through the comms, giving Gage the signal to make a move.
He stepped forward with his gun pointed. “Stop right now and put your hands up.”
The man whipped out a gun, turned and fired. His aim was off, but Gage’s wasn’t. The man’s head snapped back, and he plummeted to the ground with one neat, round hole between his eyes.
The woman dashed to where the man had been standing and swiped his weapon from the ground to keep Gage at bay. Then she wrapped her hand around a crank. “Come one step closer, and I’ll hang him,” she threatened. “I swear I will.”
Quinn’s eyes widened in shock. He recognized her from the hospital the night Buck Stanley had been killed. She’d arrived with Luca, though he didn’t know her name.
Uncaring that she was a detective, Quinn gave Kilo the command to attack. The Belgian Malinois shot away faster than a speeding bullet. The woman spun around and screamed as Kilo leaped through the air and latched onto the arm holding the gun. It clattered to the floor as she howled, trying to dislodge the dog’s jaws, but Kilo wasn’t letting go. When she fell to the floor, Quinn tackled her and gave Kilo the command to release.
“You’re under arrest,” she shrieked as tears poured down her face, smearing her mascara. “You can’t do this to me! I’m a police officer.” Quinn jerked her arms behind her back and snapped on flex cuffs before removing her gun from a holster at her side. He wasn’t risking another Stanley situation.
“Ow, my arm,” she wailed. “I need to go to the hospital. I will have you arrested, and that dog is as good as dead.”
Gage grabbed Luca around the waist to steady him. Ignoring the woman’s alternating cries of pain and threats to relieve him of his manhood, Quinn pus
hed off her and grabbed the crank, twisting it to lower Luca to the ground with Gage’s help.
“There’s a lock on the chain,” Gage called out.
Quinn leaned down and rolled the woman to her side. “Where’s the key?” he demanded.
“Go to hell,” she spat.
“Kilo, Brummen.”
The dog bared his teeth in a fierce snarl.
The woman whimpered. “Keep him away from me!”
“Where is the key?”
She turned away. “Erik has it.”
He assumed Erik was the dead man. Without giving Kilo the command to relax, he hurried to the body. The first thing he came across while searching his pockets was a badge. Erik Swanson. The guy was a cop, too. He found the key and tossed it to Gage, who caught it with one hand and slid it in the lock. Quinn dropped down beside them and carefully removed the chain from Luca’s neck. The links had left angry red marks. It might’ve damaged his windpipe. Quinn checked to see if his breathing was labored, but he didn’t detect any signs.
“Call for an ambulance,” he instructed Gage. “I’m going to get some answers.” He didn’t know why the two cops were torturing one of their own, but he was about to find out. He had a strong suspicion he knew the answer. “Kilo, free.” The dog closed his mouth but kept his chocolate gaze on his prey.
“My arm,” the woman cried. “I’m in excruciating pain. He bit me clear to the bone. I need to go to the—hey, that’s my purse. Leave it alone. You have no right to search through my private property.”
He found her badge as he dug out her wallet and checked her driver’s license. Sherry Prichard. He tossed it to the ground. “Give me the answers I need, Sherry, and I’ll let you go to the hospital. Who runs the trafficking ring?”
“Go to hell,” she repeated, confirming his suspicions. She didn’t even pretend not to know what he was asking. Sherry and Erik Swanson were in on it. Luca must’ve been on to them.
“Wrong answer.” He grabbed her uninjured arm and hauled her to her feet. He didn’t hurt women, but she sorely tempted his moral code. “Let’s go.” He motioned for Kilo to follow as he led her deeper into the warehouse.
“Wait—where are you taking me?”
“The ambulance will be here soon. You won’t be on it.”
“I’m a police detective. I order you to let me go.”
He chuckled. “You aren’t in any position to give orders. I will give you a choice, though. Either I shoot you, or I’ll give my dog another go at you. He’s already tasted your blood, and I’m pretty sure he liked it.”
“You’re a filthy bastard!”
“And you’re an evil monster who sells children to the highest bidder. There’s a special place in hell for people like you. I’m happy to punch your ticket there right now.”
“I don’t have anything to do with selling them,” she snapped. “I just apply their makeup and fix their hair.”
“And you think that makes you better than the ones who hand them over to pedophiles and rapists and murderers? Is that what you tell yourself to sleep at night? Lady, you are just as guilty.”
“And you’re so pious as you harm an innocent woman.”
He tossed back his head and roared with laughter. “Innocent. That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard since don’t go bacon my heart.”
She looked at him like he had two screws loose. “What are you talking about?”
“Look, I’m tired of dealing with you, and I’m tired of looking at you. Which option do you choose? Bullets or bites? Or there is a third choice. Tell me who runs the ring, and I’ll let you go get your arm patched up.”
Air left her body in a rush, and her shoulders slumped. “I have no idea who runs it, okay? That’s the truth. I only went to the bunker once or twice a week.”
“How did you get involved?”
“My boyfriend, Erik. The police detective you murdered,” she accused.
“Someone must call the shots.” She mumbled something. “What was that?”
“I said, Dean Lodge,” she snarled.
“You’re off to a good start. Now I need the names of everyone involved.”
“You said you’d let me go if I told you who runs it.”
“And you didn’t. So, who else besides you, Swanson, Reggie Garner and Buck Stanley?”
She huffed out a sigh. “There’s one more. I only know him as Griff. I have no clue if that’s his first name or last. Now let me go.”
He’d gotten everything he could from her. He didn’t doubt that she didn’t know who ran the ring. She was a small cog in a big machine. She shivered as he guided her back to where Gage was leading paramedics to a still-unconscious Luca. Police officers in uniforms poured inside. When a man with a chest full of bars above a badge came striding towards them with a fierce scowl, the woman whimpered and tried to wrench free of his grip.
“Let me go,” she whispered urgently.
“Not a chance.”
“What the hell is going on here?” the man demanded as he stopped in front of them with his fists on his hips. His suspicious gaze raked Quinn, but he’d faced down men scarier than him. He wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “Why are you detaining one of my detectives?”
Ah, so this must be the police captain. Before he could answer, Sherry opened her big mouth.
“Arrest him, Captain! He and his cohort killed Erik, and they’re trying to kidnap me!”
When the man’s hand reached for his weapon, Quinn spoke up. “I’m with COBRA Securities. I’m working with the FBI and Detective Luca Russo on a case. We found Ms. Prichard and Mr. Swanson torturing Detective Russo. He was tied up and swinging from the rafters with a chain around his neck.”
The captain turned to see the paramedics working on Russo. His eyes widened when he spotted his other detective lying motionless on the ground.
“You should also know that I have evidence linking both Ms. Prichard and Mr. Swanson to a child trafficking ring.”
The captain’s head reared back. “Say what?”
“They’re part of a group abducting children and selling them online.”
“That’s a lie,” Sherry cried.
“Seriously? That’s how you’re going to play this?” He removed his phone from his pocket and rewound to where Sherry confessed to doing the hair and makeup.
“You taped me?” she sputtered. “That’s illegal.”
“My God, Prichard,” the captain thundered. “How could you do something like this? Do you seriously sell children?”
“It’s not my fault,” she insisted. “Erik brainwashed me. I couldn’t get out. They threatened to kill me.” She squeezed out big fat tears.
Quinn rolled his eyes, not buying her act for a minute. One look at the captain told him that he didn’t believe her either. He focused his attention on Quinn and narrowed his gaze.
“Russo didn’t tell me he was working with the FBI or your company on a case, which I’m assuming is the trafficking ring you mentioned.”
“Yes, but it’s a sensitive matter, and it called for complete discretion.”
“Russo works for me.” He jammed a thumb in his chest. “I should’ve been apprised of the situation.”
“With all due respect, we didn’t know who we could trust. Two of your detectives were involved, as well as a deputy, a firefighter and a corrections officer. We didn’t know how high up the ladder it went. We still don’t.”
The captain’s jaw clenched. Finally, he clasped Sherry’s arm. “Let’s go. You’re under arrest.” He faced Quinn. “I need a copy of that confession.”
“You’ve got it.”
“I want a lawyer,” Sherry sputtered as her captain led her away.
Quinn headed over to meet Gage. As the paramedics lifted Luca to a gurney, his eyes blinked open. Turning his head, he spotted Quinn and motioned him over as he moved the oxygen mask aside. “Swanson and Prichard?” His voice sounded like he’d gargled with a bucket of gravel.
“Dead and un
der arrest.”
He nodded. “How did you find me?”
“When you didn’t show up or answer your phone or texts, we traced you here.”
“How?”
“I put a tracker on you.”
“I’d arrest you if your risky move hadn’t just saved my life.”
One of the paramedics interrupted them. “We need to get him to the hospital.”
Quinn nodded and stepped back. Cayleigh arrived and did a double-take as the medics wheeled Luca to the waiting ambulance.
“What the hell happened? You were supposed to wait for me to go inside.”
“Luca didn’t have much time left.” He gave her the rundown on what transpired and played Sherry’s taped confession.
“That’s enough to go after Lodge,” she confirmed.
“Gage and I will be tied up for hours giving statements,” Quinn said. “We won’t be done until early morning. I want a shot at Lodge before the police get to him.”
Cayleigh looked ready to nix the idea. He was prepared to argue, but she surprised him by nodding. “Okay. I’ll crash at the safe house tonight. We can go after him together first thing in the morning.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dodge was getting damn tired of looking over his shoulder, waiting for an attack he knew was imminent. Hell, someone tried to kill him last night on his way home from work. He spotted the headlights gaining on him in his rear-view mirror but thought nothing of it until the first blow to his bumper. When he realized what was happening, he floored the accelerator. Thank the automobile gods for his 702-horsepower 6.2-liter supercharged Hemi V-8 engine. That sucker took off like the afterburner-aided 1955 Lincoln Futura Batmobile, leaving his pursuer in the dust.
He had to get out of town. He’d planned a getaway, thinking he wouldn’t need to implement it for a few more years. He wanted to pad his retirement account first. Now he didn’t have a choice. He booked an airline ticket under the name on the fake passport he purchased from an expert forger he found on the dark web and then spent the evening with a gun in his hand, packing what few items he’d take with him. He could care less what happened with the rest of it. He didn’t even have time to sell his house but knowing he might need to flee at some point, he’d purchased a small bungalow in a sketchy part of town. It could rot for all he cared. Same with furniture and accessories—except for his seventy-inch flat-screen television. He hated to leave that, but he’d buy a new one when he landed in the Maldives or Vanuatu or Montenegro, countries with non-extradition treaties with the United States.
Worth the Risk (COBRA Securities Book 21) Page 19