by Elise Noble
“I don’t think so.”
Chad struggled to his knees, and I thought he might take a swing at one or both of us, but then he looked beyond us and deflated.
“That’s enough,” Radcliffe said.
Two of the other guards stood behind him, and neither made any move to help Chad.
“You…” He pointed at Leandro. “Get Catalina cleaned up. Chad, get into my office. Now.”
Leandro scooped me up and carried me to his room. Only once I was lying on his bed did I realise how much I was shaking.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked.
“My ankle. My ass. Everywhere.”
“I’ll get you some ice once the heat’s died down upstairs.” He rummaged in his closet and passed me a T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts. “Put these on. You won’t be comfortable sleeping in that dress.”
“Can I stay here again tonight?”
“You’re not going anywhere near Chad.”
Thank goodness.
Leandro was right about the dress. It was a strapless number with a pencil skirt and a top so tight I could hardly breathe. I’d rather have slept naked, but I was glad I didn’t have to. I paused before I slipped into the bathroom.
“Thank you.”
“Chad had it coming. I might have enjoyed hitting him a little too much.”
“Did you hurt yourself?”
Leandro flexed his fingers, and sure enough, his hand was swollen.
“It was worth it. Now go change, and when you come out, I’ve got some good news.”
“Good news?” Of course, that was likely to be relative. The only truly good news would be that I was allowed to go home. “Can’t you tell me now?”
Whatever it was, his wonky grin made me feel a smidgen lighter inside.
“In a minute. Change.”
I gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
CHAPTER 30 - BLACK
PURE DUMB LUCK, that’s what the breaks sometimes came down to.
After a week of sifting through intelligence, hunting for informants, and chasing fruitless leads, Corazon da Silva was still missing and Black had developed a headache. Emmy passed him a bottle of Advil along with his coffee. Yes, it was nine in the evening, but he didn’t intend to sleep anytime soon.
“I’m gonna head out with Fia,” she said. “According to Cruz, one of our friendly neighbourhood drug dealers is back in town, and he sells information as well as coke.”
“Forget the coke,” Nate said from the other side of the room. “I’ve just got into one of Task Force Atlantis’s files. Fuck, the security on those is tighter than a duck’s ass.”
What a great visual.
“And what’s in it?”
“A briefing document. They’re after information on some asshole called The Banker.”
“Really? That surprises me,” Alaric said.
He’d arrived at the Florida house from Las Vegas two days ago with a smile on his face and a hickey on his neck, apparently because Emmy had asked him to come, then he proceeded to sleep on the couch for twenty-four hours. If Black hadn’t needed the man’s brain, he’d have tossed Alaric outside on the sidewalk.
“You know of him?”
“Offhand, I recall he laundered money for a disgraced investment guru, at least four dictators, terrorist organisations on three continents, and the Mafia.”
“The Mafia? A possible connection to the warehouse?”
“I’m not sure how. He died six years ago. A call girl shot him in the face, set his house on fire, then crashed her car into a tree fleeing the scene.” He grimaced. “It was quite the scandal at the Bureau because the two agents assigned to surveillance duty were bumping uglies in a hotel down the road instead of watching what they were supposed to. The Banker’s house was blazing by the time anyone noticed, both of the agents’ wives were very upset, and so was the deputy director.”
Understandable.
“So why is there a current task force investigating him?”
“Logically, there are only two reasons—either there’s something in his old business dealings they’re interested in, or they suspect that somehow he’s still alive.”
“Can you look into it?”
“I’ll put some feelers out.”
Apart from the mob associates the police still had in custody, the men from the warehouse had disappeared without a trace. Camera footage from a restaurant along the road showed a black SUV speeding off with five occupants, one of whom could have been Cora, but the tag on that was registered to a red minivan from Orlando. The owner hadn’t even noticed the licence plate was missing until Blackwood turned up at her door.
Rafael had been frustrated but calm as he trained with Emmy and Ana. Initial reports on his performance seemed promising—the only good news in an otherwise depressing week—and Black developed a new respect for Vicente. The old man had taught Black’s nephew well.
Black worried about his mother, though, a new experience for him. Every time he asked, she said she was fine, but she looked so frail. At least Dores was there to keep an eye on her. He glanced in Marisol’s direction again. She insisted on sitting in the operations room at all times, even eating her meals in there, much like Black himself.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and get some rest?” he asked for the tenth time. “I’ll wake you if anything happens.”
“I’d rather stay down here.”
“Shall I lift you onto the couch?”
“I can do that myself.”
Black hated to watch her struggle, but Marisol da Silva was a proud woman. She parked her chair next to the couch, but she’d only gotten halfway out of the seat when her phone bleeped.
“It’s a message from Cora,” she half shouted as soon as she’d glanced at the screen.
He reached her side in an instant. “What does it say?”
She held the phone up so Black could see for himself.
“Trapped,” he read out. “Florida I think. Pink mansion near ocean. High wall, metal gates, fountain in middle of drive. Nate, we need to find out who this number belongs to and where the message originated.”
“On it.”
Half an hour later, they had their answer. Theodore Symonds was a fifty-nine-year-old investment manager from Tampa, but the message had been sent within a twenty-mile radius of Naples. Currently, the phone—and presumably its owner—was on its way north on I-75.
“Where do you want to start?” Nate asked. “The house or Symonds?”
“The house. Get everyone still awake in the Richmond office on Google Earth, and we’ll come up with a list of possibilities. Cruz, we’ll need anybody local here ASAP to assist with checking out locations.”
“I’ll round them up.”
“Emmy, forget the drug dealer and get some sleep. I’ve got a feeling we’ll see action in the morning, and we need to be fresh.”
“I’ll get Mack and Dan to run the initial search,” Nate said. “That should buy us a couple of hours’ rest.”
Black crouched by Marisol. “That goes for you too. Let me help you upstairs.”
“Wait,” Rafael said, staring at Nate’s disappearing back. “Where are you going? What about Cora?”
That was the beauty of Blackwood. Black, Nate, Emmy, and Nick, the four co-owners and directors, had spent years building up a strong team, and Black trusted them implicitly to share the load.
“Some of this work can be done remotely, and we’ve got plenty of people available for that. The most important thing we can do right now is rest so we’re ready in the morning. Nobody wants to screw up due to tiredness if we need to mount a rescue operation.”
“I’ve only ever worked with Vicente before.”
“Better get used to being part of a team.” Because now Black had met his family, he wanted to keep them close. He hadn’t had the conversation with Marisol and Rafael yet, but if they’d agree, he wanted to buy them a house in Virginia so they could spend at least part of the year nearby, as well as h
im visiting Medellín. “Get some sleep.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to.”
“The ability to recharge is every bit as important as being able to shoot straight. It’s a skill. Lie down, focus on your breathing, and empty your head. Tomorrow might get difficult, and we need you at full strength.”
CHAPTER 31 - CORA
“OKAY, WHAT’S THE good news?”
I emerged from the bathroom in Leandro’s baggy T-shirt and shorts. Thankfully, the shorts had a drawstring, so I’d been able to tie them tight instead of waiting for them to fall down. He’d changed too, from the suit he wore when clients were around into sweatpants and a T-shirt advertising a brand of beer I’d never heard of. And he’d brought ice too.
“Lie down and put this on your ankle.”
Reason told me I should hate Leandro. He was part of the establishment, the group of monsters who kept me a prisoner in this nightmare and who’d stolen Izzy too, but on a personal level, he’d been kind. Sweet, even. If we’d met under any other circumstances, I’d have fluffed my hair, tidied my make-up, and flirted like crazy in the hope that he might suggest a date. And even now, with circumstances what they were, I couldn’t help liking him a tiny bit.
“The good news?” I asked again.
“The good news is you’re leaving.”
Leaving? What did he mean, leaving? A chill ran through me as Leandro perched on the edge of the bed and carried on.
“Chad’s caused too many problems. While you were with that client earlier, Radcliffe called me into his office and wanted to know why you kept sleeping in my room. So I straight-up told him that Chad seemed fixated and I’d been trying to keep you out of his way so we didn’t end up with another Kelsie on our hands. After her death, Radcliffe could hardly deny that Chad has issues, and if he loses two girls in a couple of months, the big boss will ask questions. Fuck knows how he explained away the dead body. The cameras must have shown Chad walking into the bathroom with her, then coming out alone.”
“Where am I going?”
“To one of the other properties.”
“But… But…”
I couldn’t leave. Not now. Not when there was the possibility of rescue. And here, I sort of had an ally in Leandro and the other girls were nice too. In a new place, I’d be starting again from scratch with nothing.
On the other hand, what if Izzy was there?
“But what?”
“I’m not sure I want to leave.”
“Catalina, this is a good thing. Chad’s escalating, and if you’re not here, he can’t hurt you.”
“I’ll miss you,” I whispered. The words slipped out unbidden.
Now Leandro smiled, not just his usual flicker, but an actual smile.
“I’m coming too. After the crew from the warehouse ended up here, this place has too many guards. The other house lost a guy.”
“But I’d rather stay.”
“If you stay here, Chad won’t give up.” Leandro reached across to brush a few stray hairs out of my face. “Sorry I was late this evening. When Radcliffe wanted to see me, I couldn’t exactly say no.”
“Was he angry?”
“More resigned. He didn’t even argue when I pointed out Chad was a disaster waiting to happen, and then he suggested both of us move. My bet is that the big boss isn’t happy with him right now. Girls cost money, and now that the supply route’s been disrupted, it’s not as easy to get more.”
“Ouch. Do you have to put it so bluntly?”
“Sorry.”
Leandro did look genuinely chastened, and I reminded myself not to feel bad for snapping because he was part of the freaking problem. No, instead I had to focus on the issue at hand.
“But what if the new place is even worse?”
“How can it possibly be worse than here?”
I ticked off the points on my fingers. “Sadistic clients, unfriendly girls, brutal guards, a guy worse than Radcliffe in charge.”
“You really don’t want to leave?”
Leandro sounded incredulous, and rightly so. Who in her right mind would want to stick around and wait for a psycho to attack her? The thought terrified me too, especially without Leandro here to protect me. What if Grandma didn’t manage to arrange a rescue?
“Do you know if everyone escaped the fire at the warehouse?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“The fire? The raid? Did they find any bodies afterwards? Did anyone get put in prison?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I’m just curious. Do you know?”
Leandro shook his head and sighed as if he didn’t understand women in general and me in particular, but he answered anyway.
“It wasn’t only you girls being kept in the warehouse. I never understood the exact arrangements, but the big boss rented space from some people my uncle knew. That’s how I ended up with the job. They needed a man to keep watch over the women, and he recommended me. I swear I didn’t know you were all getting kidnapped at first.”
“We were locked in cells and accompanied to the freaking bathroom.”
“They said that was so you didn’t wander off into other parts of the warehouse.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit it seemed. “They were storing drugs there.”
Why didn’t that surprise me? Drugs and human trafficking—the perfect combination.
“So the raid—it was for the drugs?”
“Yes.”
“And did they arrest the drug people? Did anyone get hurt in the fire? I heard a girl screaming.”
“From what I’ve heard, they found two people dead. Some guy carried the other girl out, and the cops arrested him, but then he took a woman hostage and escaped from the police precinct.”
Was that Rafael? He’d gone to get the girl, but would he really take a hostage? My brother wasn’t a monster; I had to believe that. But I also had to hope he was free because otherwise, I was screwed. Who else could Grandma send to help? Vicente? The idea of a sixty-something sicario taking on Radcliffe’s guards made a bubble of hysterical laughter escape.
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” Oops. “What happened to the guy? Did they catch him again?”
“He’s still on the loose, and Radcliffe’s twitchy in case the Mafia blame the raid on us.”
“The Mafia?”
“That’s who was running the drug operation.”
“And your uncle? He knows them?”
Oh, hell. Was there anyone not involved in this mess? All we needed were a few gang members and a terrorist or two and we could complete our bad-guy bingo card. But Leandro’s news also made it sound more likely than not that my brother was still out there, even if he was a felon, which meant he’d be looking for me as soon as Grandma got my message to him. I couldn’t leave.
“My uncle has nothing to do with the current situation.”
“Fine. Let’s forget I was kidnapped and ignore the fact that the Mafia are seriously scary men—I’ve seen The Godfather—and discuss the problem at hand. Is there any way you can convince Radcliffe to let me stay? Won’t he be short of girls here? I mean, he lost Kelsie too.”
“I just told you the Mafia are sniffing around, and now you want to sit back and wait for them?”
“Well, I…”
“I thought you’d be happy.”
“Happy?”
“Wrong word. Relieved.”
And any normal girl in my situation would have been exactly that. Relieved. There simply was no rational explanation for why I’d want to stay in the pink palace and face the wrath of Chad and a possible Mafia invasion when I had the opportunity to go somewhere safer with Leandro. Other than the truth, of course. But did I trust Leandro enough to let him into my secret?
He’d tried to set me free once, and despite his job, he’d been kind. What was the worst that could happen? Leandro would go running to Radcliffe and I’d get killed. Okay, that was a pretty big downside. Or perhaps they’d jus
t move me anyway? And the other girls because they’d have to assume my brother would call the cops like a regular person.
And what about Izzy? Well, we had a lead now. There had to be a connection between this place and wherever she went, and somehow, we’d find it.
Leandro was still staring expectantly, waiting for an explanation.
“My brother will come here to find me,” I whispered. “If I move, I’ll be imprisoned for longer.”
“Your brother? How the hell would he know to look for you here?”
Uh-oh. Leandro didn’t look at all happy.
“Because I messaged him. Tonight. The client left his phone lying around. Well, I messaged my grandma, and she’ll tell my brother, and—”
“Keep your voice down—these walls are thin. Your grandma?”
“It’s a long story.”
“Fuck.”
Leandro began pacing the tiny space, tugging at his dark hair. I’d never seen him stressed like that before. One of his shoes squeaked a little. Squeak click, squeak click, squeak click.
“Your brother’s in Colombia?” he asked.
“No, he’s in the USA. He was at the warehouse, but we got separated when he went back in to save the girl.”
“He was the guy who escaped from police custody?”
“Probably.”
A string of curses flew from Leandro’s lips, and he paused his steps, visibly trying to compose himself. His fists formed tight balls, and he leaned against the closet until his head met the wood with a hollow thud. This wasn’t going well.
“You can still leave tomorrow,” I told him in what I hoped was a reassuring tone. “In fact, it’s better that you do because I doubt my brother’s gonna be in a good mood when he gets here.”
And while I didn’t care one iota for the other men, I hated the thought of Leandro getting hurt.
“No, I can’t. If they don’t have an extra girl, they don’t need an extra guard. Either both of us leave or neither of us do. And we’re leaving, Catalina. I need to keep this job.”
“Can’t you get a new job instead? Something legitimate?”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Sure it is. You’re smart, you’re mostly nice, and even if you don’t have qualifications, there are people who’d employ you. I understand the money might not be so good, but it’s perfectly possible to live on a budget. We did it for years in Colombia, and—”