by Ashley Lyn
“So what’s the deal? I mean, Cash isn’t the most popular name in the world, but what are the odds?”
“Physical description?” I ask, perusing the rabbit vibrators.
“Taller than me, but not by much. Black hair that’s longer than shoulder length, green eyes and tight buns.”
Grabbing the tester of a bright pink vibrator with a clit stimulator in the shape of a dolphin, I look at her, the vibrator spinning, and work to give her my best neutral face.
“Nope, different dude.” I groan when it comes out squeaky, and then I see the shocked look on Lindsey’s face.
“Let’s go.”
“No. This’ll take a while to pick the one that speaks to me. We don’t have time anyway to go all the way to the offices. He probably isn’t even there in the middle of the day anyway.”
“Becca!” Jumping, I drop the vibrator and turn around. My jaw drops.
“Teresa!”
“My name’s Tess.”
“That’s what I said.”
“I need to speak to Tristan.”
“What you need to do, Barb, is close the jizz hole in your face and drag your sorry ass away from me.”
“Still fat?” she quips, and I clap.
“That’s so awesome! You come up with that all by yourself? Listen to me, Tina.”
“Tess!” she yells, and I wave my hand around.
“Of course, Tiff. If you don’t keep your skanky diseased twat away from my boyfriend, you best hope your ass is a size eight because I’m going to put my size eight up your ass.”
My phone rings and I smile, seeing Tristan’s face on the screen. “Hey, baby,” I coo.
“What are you doing?” His sexy voice purrs over the line and I smile at Lindsey.
“Buying a new vibrator and talking to your ex-cum dumpster.”
Tess tries to come at me, but I grab a giant double dong and hold it up like a sword. “Back off.”
“Like you’re really dating him. You’re not even close to my level.”
She fluffs her hair, and I want to punch her in her plastic tit.
“I could get on your level but I don’t like being on my knees that much.” She gasps, and Tristan cracks up laughing. I put him on speaker and put him in my bra.
“Can you just tell him to call me?”
“Maybe.”
“Really?” She looks so happy. Telling her I’m full of shit is going to be like kicking a puppy.
“Nope.”
Holding up her hands, she makes two fists and growls, but all I can do is just smile and continue my vibrator perusal.
“Tell you what, Janet, you stay away from my fiancé and I won’t turn you in for prostitution.”
“I’m not a prostitute!”
“Bitch, you put the pro in prostitute.”
“Don’t you mean, stay away from your ‘boyfriend?’”
It’s like a hot poker was just shoved up my poop shoot and propels me forward. I get two handfuls of hair and take the bitch down. Knocking over the butt plug display, I sit on her chest and smack the side of her face with the giant dong.
She starts trying to throw me off, and I can’t figure out why she’s thrusting her hips at me, so I thump her in the forehead. “Knock it off, you can’t push me off. You’re teeny tiny. I’ve taken shits bigger than you.”
Thumping her forehead again, she tries to swat me off, and I just thump her again. Grabbing a bottle of lube, I pop the top and tilt it over.
“That’s a nice outfit. Expensive?”
“Yes, I only wear designer.”
Squeezing a dollop of the lube on her chest, she goes crazy. Grabbing her hair, I hold her head still.
“You’ll stay away from my fiancé or I’ll do more than ruin your fancy fucking clothes.”
“Don’t you mean your boyfriend and your brother?” she sneers.
“Carter would never touch you!”
“Whatever. Get off me. God, you weigh a ton.”
“That’s because I’m tons of fun.”
Because I’m a total bitch, I squeeze most of the bottle in her hair and rub it in. Jumping up, I head out the front door smiling as I listen to her screeches of outrage.
“You find one, Miss Becca?”
“Hey, Tito! Nope, ran into some trash and kicked her ass. She’s back there crying.”
“No worries. I will kick her out.”
Lindsey’s trying to keep up, but she’s laughing so hard, she keeps tripping and running into shit.
Stopping at the door, I listen to the cries of Tess and giggle when she asks why her head feels numb.
“It’s numbing anal lube. Figured an asshole like you could use some loosening up.”
Stomping outside, I’m fucking livid. “What’s your schedule like today?” I ask Lindsey.
“I only have one more appointment today, and it’s not until later, like three.” Pulling my phone out of my bra, I see Tristan is still connected.
I put it up to my ear. “Hey, baby. So, we’re coming in to say hello.”
Hanging up, I look at the time and sprint to my car. Looking over at Lindsey, I smile. “Guess you get your chance to talk to Cash.” Hopping in, I crank the engine and motor to Triton Security.
TRISTAN
Looking in the conference room, I see Cash, Carter, and Miranda pouring over the surveillance photos of the last time our mystery woman withdrew money from the ATM in Minden.
“We have incoming.”
Cash looks confused and I grimace. “Apparently, your sister was shopping and ran into Tess.”
“Fucking Tess!” he yells and throws his pad of paper knocking paper and pictures off the table in the process.
“Your ex-wife is a hoe bag!” We all jump when Becca’s voice behind us booms through the room.
“I know, right!” Carter says. She points at him, “Did you ever fuck her?”
Carter looks so horrified it is obvious that nothing ever happened.
“Why in the hell did you marry such a cow!” she wails.
Cash is laser-focused on the woman that came in with Becca. I look between the two of them and she drops her gaze, looking destroyed. Then she looks confused her head cocks to the side she drops down and picks up a photograph, one of the better ones of our mystery woman.
“Why do y’all have this?” We all look at her.
“Why?” Tristan asks.
She looks around the room and takes a step back. “Answer him, Petal,” Cash says, making her jump.
She looks distraught for a minute and shores up her courage. “I…after cosmetology school, I went home. She used to come in for a trim and a dye job. She was naturally a platinum blonde but she dyed it pitch black. I never thought it fit her, and she always looked like she hated it. Wouldn’t ever speak, except to tell me thank you. She always paid in cash, tipped well, and she had a little boy that would come in with her who was quiet, just like she was.” She closes her eyes and concentrates on remembering. Meanwhile, we all hold our breath.
“She never gave me a name, but the little boy one day called her Anika. She scolded him for saying her name in public, and her voice sounded accented…Russian maybe? He started to cry, and she motioned for him to come over and he crawled in her lap while she hummed a song to him. I told her he was a cute boy and asked what his name was, and she just ignored me. After that, I didn’t see her for months. Then I went to Walmart, and you know how some of them have hair salons in them? She was sitting there getting her hair done. I was offended, but I never forgot it.”
Miranda is furiously typing on the computer. “Where was this?” I ask.
Cash speaks up. “Kearney, Nebraska.” The woman nods her head that yes, that was right.
“Anika Ivanov immigrated here when she was four. Anyone want to guess where her first job was at the tender age of eighteen?”
“Charles King.”
“Correct. She started just two weeks before Kyrian was born. She had only been working there for a week
when she went to the ER, complaining of belly pain. Doctor’s notes state that it was a sexual assault. She claimed that she didn’t know her attacker, that it was too dark for a physical description.”
“Was a rape kit taken.”
She types for a while and she grins and then frowns, “Yes a kit was done but it was never completed. Last address was here in Denver, according to records which are not the best she hasn’t been employed since September 28th, 2006.”
“One day after Kyrian was born,” Carter says.
Pulling out my phone, I call up Richardson.
“Richardson.”
“Do you have anything solid to pull Charles King in for?”
“No and yes.”
“Elaborate.”
“What we have is enough to haul him in, but he would be out the same day.”
“What if I said my computer expert could help your case? That she found something that could potentially contain what you need, also a name of a woman that he assaulted.”
“I would kiss you.”
“I’m engaged, so you would have to fight my fiancée, and she’s a mean little thing.”
“Name for the assault?”
“Anika Ivanov.”
“You have her?”
“No, but we suspect she has Carter’s son. She worked for Charles in 2006 for two weeks, but after a week of employment, she was admitted to the ER for belly pain.”
“I’m not even going to ask how you have that information.”
“Probably a good idea.”
The woman raises her hand. “What’s your name?”
“Lindsey Marie Baker,” Cash replies.
“You just blew this case wide open, and not only ours, but a federal case as well.”
“Talk about fucking kismet,” Becca says, and I glance at her shaking her hands.
“Why do you keep doing that?”
“I rubbed numbing anal lube all over your ex-cow, and now my hands are numb.” I don’t know what to say to that, but I chuckle, thinking of Tess covered in the stuff.
“Kismet,” Becca says again.
“Cash and Lindsey went to school together, and apparently, they went on a blind date last night. Then we find out I know Cash, then Lindsey knows your mystery lady. Kismet. Fate, whatever you want to call it.”
Everyone looks at Cash, who storms out the door without even acknowledging Lindsey. She looks devastated. Becca rubs her arm, and Lindsey takes a deep breath before pulling out her phone. Punching some buttons, she makes a call.
“Edith? It’s Lindsey Baker.” She turns around, giving us her back.
“Yes, I know, I miss her too. Look, I was trying to remember that woman who used to clean your house. She did such a wonderful job and I need to get Gran’s house cleaned before I put it on the market. You wouldn’t happen to still use her, do you?” She spins around and looks at all of us.
“You do? I’m coming down tomorrow, staying the weekend. Maybe I can stop by, say hello, and maybe talk to her about cleaning grans house?” Carter looks about ready to pass out.
“She comes on Fridays? Perfect. She usually comes around ten? That’s wonderful. I’ll see you then.”
Lindsey jumps about a foot in the air when Cash grabs her arm. “Let’s go pack your shit. Carter, meet at the airport in an hour.”
“Unhand me, Lacroix.” He leans down and whispers something in her ear, and she smacks him right across the face, shocking the shit out of all of us.
“I’m going! I told you I would, but you…you A-hole, are not allowed in my house. Give me the address to the airport and I’ll get an Uber.”
“Walk,” he grates out.
“Fuck. You.” She turns and stomps out.
“Shit!” she yells. “Becca, my three o’clock! Can you see if someone can cover?”
“I got it.”
“It is just a trim and wash, nothing special.”
“I can fit it in, no problem.”
BECCA
I’m still in shock that Lindsey was the missing piece. I’m dragging ass down the sidewalk to my car. I got to the shop early this morning so I could get a good spot. After the fiasco at Triton, my prime parking spot was toast.
Smiling when I think of the text messages from Lindsey, bitching about Cash, makes me laugh. Walking up to the apartment, I know that Tristan won’t be there. They’re arranging the trip to Kearney and doing whatever else they can to find Ray and Kyrian.
Opening the door, I drop my keys on the side table by the door and kick off my shoes in the general direction of the living room. Humming to myself, I think a quesadilla sounds divine right now.
My heart takes a trip in my throat when I hear a noise behind me. Turning around, I see the last person I expected to see leaning against the door.
My father.
He looks like shit. Pale as hell, and skinnier than I’d expected him to be. Granted, I haven’t seen him in years. He has a ball cap on, sweatpants, and a zip-up hoodie.
“What the fuck?” I gasp out.
He tries to take a step toward me and I back up, but he almost loses his balance and grabs the side table, knocking everything off.
I take a step to help. Why, I don’t know, but something’s wrong. He holds up a hand to tell me he has it and I step back.
“I need to speak to Carter and he won’t answer my calls.”
“He’s busy right now.”
“Trying to find Ray and my grandson, I know.”
“If you know, then why do you need to speak to him?” My need to help is overwhelming right now. He looks like he’s barely standing up.
“Can I just help you sit down? You look like you’re going to fall over.” He takes a step and does just that. Rushing over, I help him sit up against the wall. Going into the kitchen, I grab a glass of water and bring it back to him.
“Why are you being nice to me? I’ve been a terrible father to you.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Because it’s the right thing to do. What’s wrong with you anyway?”
“Cancer. Treatments they tell me are going well, not that I feel like it. I had a visitor yesterday and I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. Didn’t know who I could trust with what he said.”
“Who?”
“Charles King.” I gasp because I know that the FBI, as well as Tristan, has been trying to find him for weeks.
“What did he say?”
“He wanted the keys to a house I own that’s off the books. I was going to tell him to fuck off, but then I thought I could give the keys to him and call someone and let them know where he was. But I couldn’t get a hold of anyone. He’s a conniving man, and I wouldn’t put it past him to have someone in my house or at the FBI.” Tears roll down his cheeks. “I have a lot to atone for. I didn’t know about my grandson until Charles came to the house yesterday. I needed to do something to help.”
“Were you involved in splitting them up?” He nods his head and I sit back on my heels.
“You almost killed him.” He looks away. “You broke something in your son when he lost her.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
“I had this grand plan for Carter. I thought my plan was better for him than what he wanted. I got involved with Charles during a real estate deal, all above board, then he started slipping in things here and there, shady things. Buying and selling commercial properties to companies that didn’t really exist. I had my fingers in a lot of pies back then, with rental properties both here and abroad. I rented boats and cars, even a small transport company. I looked the other way, let him use the transport company and use empty rental properties completely off the books. The money was rolling in and I let it go to my head.”
His head lolls to the side and he looks up at me with tears in his eyes.
“One night, he brought up Rayleen and how pretty she was, how he wanted her every time Carter brought her around, which wasn’t often. He said it would be good if Carter married her, so that way, we would
have access to the shipping company. None of our interests had anything to do with shipping so I didn’t understand. I brushed it off, thinking he had let it go. Carter was talking about marrying her, and I didn’t want him to marry some random girl. The shipping company was solid, but small. I wanted him to make a match that would further my company, the company I thought he would take over.”
He takes another drink of water and closes his eyes. “Charles said he had a plan to break them up and get the company at the same time. So, I agreed.”
More tears roll down his cheeks that are sunken and hollow. “Rayleen’s father was a good man for the most part. His company was solid and completely above board. I say for the most part because he had a mistress and a child. After he died, Rayleen’s mother was in a car accident and was bed bound and emotionally fragile. I remember Carter talking about it. So, Charles told her that if she agreed to marry him and sell him the company, he would keep that information to himself and not tell her mother. Threatened to tarnish the company’s reputation and drive it into the ground. She agreed on one condition, that the marriage was in name only. I don’t know what went on in the house. Every time I was over there, I never saw her. After that, Carter was just gone, a shell of himself. I thought about telling him, but I was selfish, and I didn’t want him mad at me. Even though he hated me, I thought maybe I could repair our relationship if I told him that I had a hand in Ray leaving, but he would never talk to me. Things with Charles just kept getting worse; he was getting more and more demanding, taking more and more of my resources and paying me the same. One day, the police called the office, needing to get into one of my properties. As far as I knew, he hadn’t used it in a while. So I gave them permission, and what they found was horrific. Girls, as young as four, all crammed in like sardines. That’s when I realized why he really wanted the shipping company. He was shipping people, human trafficking. At first I panicked, telling the police that the house had been vacant for some time. They looked into me, obviously, but everything was under the table and not on any books. Then I couldn’t get the dirty little faces of those people out of my head. I tried to go visit an FBI agent I knew, but before I made it to the meeting, Charles had his hired gun pick me up.”