by Tina Folsom
“I know you can, but just as a heart surgeon doesn’t do surgery on his own heart, I’m not going to have you do this. We don’t know what we might find. And I don’t want you to, uh—”
“Fall apart?” she finished his sentence.
His look told her that it was exactly what he’d wanted to say.
“Because of what Grayson said?” She shook her head, though hearing somebody actually say it out loud had chilled her. “Do you really think that this thought hadn’t crossed my mind? From the moment you told me that Buffy wasn’t the only little girl who’d disappeared and that all the others were girls her age too, I knew what it meant.” She sighed. “It was considerate of you not to say it, but we both know why children are trafficked, what these bastards intend to do to them.”
John put his hand on her forearm and squeezed it. “Doesn’t mean somebody has to remind you of it constantly. And I have good reason to believe that they haven’t touched her yet.”
“You don’t have to lie to me.” She made a motion to turn away, but he didn’t let go of her.
“I’m not. The picture they sent you. She looks frightened in it, yes, but she hasn’t lost her innocence yet. I’ve seen children who’ve been through this. You can see it in their eyes, see the horror they experienced. I don’t see it in Buffy.”
A glimmer of hope blossomed in her heart. “You’re not just saying that?”
He shook his head lightly. “Trust me. If this is a child trafficking ring, it means they’ll have to transport the children to a secure location where whoever bought them will take possession of them. And these people want their…uh… want them in pristine condition. Not damaged. The traffickers are generally not the end users. Their job is to deliver the kids, nothing more.”
“I hope you’re right. I hope we’re not too late.”
John let go of her arm and opened the car door to let her get in. Moments later, they were driving back to Scanguards, back into the parking garage. But this time they didn’t return to John’s office. Instead, they remained on one of the basement levels, where John led her through a maze of corridors, until they reached a large room with a multitude of computer workstations. To one side, behind a glass wall was a smaller room, most likely climate-controlled, were rows of servers were located. On another wall, dozens of screens were mounted. Together, they formed one large screen, the kind one would find in the control room at NASA.
To Savannah’s surprise, virtually every workstation was occupied. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was almost midnight, yet this room was humming with activity like a freeway during rush hour. Several of the men and women working here turned their heads and stared at her as if she’d entered a place she shouldn’t be at. But when their gazes fell onto John next to her, they turned their attention back to their computers.
“There’s Grayson,” John said and pointed to a workstation toward the far end of the room.
As they walked to join him, Savannah noticed that he’d already set up the laptop, booted it up and was speaking to a tall, blond man wearing leather pants and a white shirt, whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. She couldn’t help but notice how well those pants fit him, and how physically fit he appeared, when he suddenly looked over his shoulder as if he’d sensed her eyes on him. Piercing blue eyes scrutinized her—but not in the way she was used to being eyed up by a man. He didn’t linger on her breasts or check out her legs, but kept his gaze locked on her face, before he shifted it, seemingly satisfied, to John.
“Hey, John,” the man said.
“Thomas, thanks for coming so quickly,” John replied and shook his hand. “This is Savannah Rice. Savannah, this is Thomas Brown-Martens, Chief of IT at Scanguards.”
She’d never seen an IT guy who was as muscular as this one. And she’d met a lot of computer geeks. How had he made it to the top and still had time to work out?
She offered her hand, and he shook it. “Pleased to meet you.”
“Likewise.”
“Did Grayson get a chance to fill you in on what we’re looking for?” John asked.
“The basics, yeah. I’m sure anybody on my staff could handle this.” Thomas tossed a quizzical look at John. “Care to explain to me why you need me for this?”
“Because you’re the best and the fastest,” John said, emphasizing his Southern accent.
“Flattery, I see. How about you teach Eddie that accent, and we’ve got a deal?” Thomas sat down in front of the laptop. His hands flew over the keyboard with a confidence that stunned even Savannah. She’d always thought that she was good, that she knew her craft well, but watching Thomas unlock bits and pieces of information from the photographer’s laptop made her feel like an amateur in comparison.
She turned her head to look at John and caught his gaze on her.
“Do you want anything to eat or drink?”
She shook her head. “I’m fine.”
“Did you have dinner?” John added.
“No, but that’s okay.”
“It’s not.” He looked at Grayson. “Call my cell the moment you guys have something. We’ll be in the H Lounge.”
“But I’m not hungry,” Savannah protested.
“Give me thirty to forty minutes,” Thomas said, glancing over his shoulder, his eyes meeting hers. “You can’t do anything here right now anyway.”
John took her arm and led her outside. “You might not think you’re hungry, but I can’t have you collapsing for lack of energy. You’ve been up all day, you’ve been through a terrible ordeal tonight, and then—” He stopped himself as if he’d been about to add something he knew he shouldn’t mention: what they’d done earlier.
“Fine, I’ll eat,” she said quickly to prevent an awkward silence.
She didn’t want to be reminded that only a couple of hours earlier she’d had wild, hot sex with John, a man she barely knew. Surely he didn’t want to be reminded of it any more than she did. After all, it had been a mistake. A lapse of judgment on both their parts. Entirely a product of the danger they’d been in.
John led her to a large room on the first floor and closed the door behind them. They were the only people here. Savannah looked around. The place looked like a first-class airport lounge. She didn’t really know what she had expected. Maybe a cafeteria? But this was much more than that. There were comfortable seating areas, dining tables, a bar, and along the walls, refrigerated shelves with pre-packaged food of all sorts, as well as fresh fruit, chocolates, and other sweets. There was something for every taste.
“This is the cafeteria?” she asked, giving John a surprised look.
He shrugged. “We just call it a lounge. Employees come here between their shifts or on their breaks. It can be a stressful job, and there are days we don’t have time to go home. Management knows how to keep everybody happy.” He pointed to the food. “Take whatever you want.”
When she walked toward the shelves stacked with yogurts and fruit, she noticed that John sat down on one of the comfortable sectionals. “Aren’t you having any?”
“I had dinner earlier. But don’t let that stop you. You need your strength.”
She chose a yogurt, a bowl of mixed fruit, a bottle of water, and a bar of fancy looking chocolate, and joined John on the sofa, sinking into the corner at the other end.
“That doesn’t look like a lot,” he said with raised eyebrows.
“It’s more than I can eat right now,” she assured him and dug into the yogurt. Only when the food hit her empty stomach did she realize that she was famished. She’d polished off the yogurt, the fruit and most of the chocolate, when she looked up and realized that John had gotten up and fetched more of the same.
“Eat,” he simply said and put the items in front of her. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
She nodded and watched him leave the room. The soft music coming from speakers in the ceiling felt soothing, and for a short moment, she leaned back into the comfortable cushions and closed her eyes to relax.
John and his colleagues at Scanguards had impressed her. They were efficient and extremely capable. Thomas was clearly an IT genius, and John knew how to get information out of anybody. She knew she was in the right hands. Scanguards had achieved more in a few hours than the police had in the weeks since the first child had gone missing.
She sighed. Would this nightmare be over soon? Would Scanguards be able to keep its promise to her? Would they bring Buffy home?
22
John quickly popped into the V Lounge to get a glass of blood. Being in Savannah’s presence made his need for blood stronger than usual. He knew he had to take precautions in order not to lose his head around her, so he quickly downed two glasses of O-Neg. Just as he left the lounge, his phone rang. He looked at the display.
“Ryder?”
“Hey, John. Your hunch was correct. All kids that disappeared had a photo shooting session at Kerry Young’s studio.”
“Thanks, Ryder. We were just there. It’s possible that her site was hacked. Thomas is looking into it right now. I’m back at HQ.”
“Anything you want me to do?”
“Follow up with Damian and Benjamin and see if they know yet whether Alexi Denault owns any property where he could hide the children. At this point he’s our number one suspect. He had opportunity and the right technical knowledge.”
“Yeah, and he’s Russian. I’ve been looking through the police reports. If it’s him, he has to have quite a few accomplices. They’ll need several people to watch the kids. This is not a one-man operation.”
“No, it’s not. But it seems he’s very careful. Damian said he keeps to himself. We just have to catch him off guard.”
“Are you sure the photographer isn’t involved?”
“Pretty sure. She was genuinely surprised when I confronted her. Hard to fake that.” He sighed. “Anyway, thanks, Ryder. Stay at HQ for now in case I need you for something else.”
He disconnected the call and walked back to the human lounge.
Savannah was still seated at the same spot as before, but her eyes were closed and she was leaning back against the sofa cushions. He sat down quietly, not making a sound and watched her peaceful face. No wonder she’d nodded off. She’d been through a lot, and she wasn’t used to the hours he and his vampire colleagues kept. He didn’t have the heart to wake her, and at present, there was no need, so he simply sat there in the other corner of the sofa, his body turned sideways, one leg angled, one braced on the floor, and watched her sleep.
Had they been real lovers, two people in a relationship, he would get to see her like this often. He knew he’d enjoy seeing her like this. Safe under his watchful eye. Trusting him as she slept. Yes, he would like that. But he also knew that the chances of that happening, of a relationship developing between them, were doubtful. Wrong place, wrong time. Wrong species—not hers, but his. Because would a woman like her, a woman who had responsibility for a child, really risk bringing a vampire into her home? Wouldn’t she always fear that he would hurt her daughter, even if he told her that he would treat Buffy like his own? But why would she believe him? All she would see was the bloodthirsty creature, not the man with the capacity to love and protect innocents.
His cell phone pinged softly. A text message from Thomas. He read it.
Good news and bad news. Come to the lab.
John shoved the phone back into his pocket. He looked at how peaceful Savannah slept, and for a brief moment, he contemplated not waking her. However, he knew she would be upset if he didn’t. She had every right to be involved in this, and if he excluded her, how could she ever truly trust him?
Gently he put his hand on her shoulder. “Savannah.”
She shot forward, shaking off his hand in the process. “What?” When her eyes landed on him, she pressed her hand to her chest, drawing his gaze to her rapidly rising breasts, as she drew in calming breaths. “How long have I been asleep? Did something happen?”
“Everything’s fine. You nodded off for only a few minutes. Thomas has news. We should go back to the computer lab.” He offered her his hand to help her up, but she either didn’t see it, or didn’t want his help. He tried not to take it personally, nevertheless, the rejection only emphasized that she wanted to forget the intimacy that they’d shared earlier.
When they arrived in the computer lab a couple of minutes later, Thomas was still seated in front of the monitor, while Grayson had hopped on the desk.
“So what did you find?” John asked without preamble.
“First the good news”, Thomas started, and Savannah sucked in a breath. “There is indeed evidence that somebody hacked the photographer’s server, and accessed the picture files and the client database.”
“You said good news,” Savannah said, her voice shaking a little. “So there’s bad news?”
Thomas looked straight at her, a serious expression on his face. “The hacker is good. Very good indeed. He was able to wipe out his footprint. I can’t trace him. I have no idea where he is. He could be in the next building, or he could be all the way around the world in China, for all I know.”
“Fuck,” John cursed.
“Yeah,” Thomas agreed. “But that’s not all.” He swiveled in his chair and clicked on a window. “We also found this in Buffy’s client file.” Pictures of Buffy together with Savannah appeared on the screen.
John shot Savannah a look. “You didn’t mention that the photographer took photos of you, too.”
She shrugged. “We just took a few, because Buffy wanted one with me and her together. And the photographer didn’t mind adding a few extra shots for the same price. Why should it matter?”
Grayson hopped off the desk. “It matters because they tried to kidnap you too.”
Surprised that Grayson knew about this, he gave the young hybrid a questioning look.
“I spoke to the twins. They filled me in.”
“I still don’t understand,” Savannah interrupted.
John turned to her. “What Grayson is pointing out is that whoever kidnapped all these children, saw your photo, and for whatever reason decided to kidnap you too.”
Thomas pointed to the screen. “I can think of a few reasons why.”
Savannah spun her head to him, but Thomas didn’t elaborate.
“But…” She pointed to the picture, but didn’t finish her sentence.
John sighed. “Whoever wanted Buffy, saw you and decided he wanted you too.” And now he remembered something that would explain why the kidnapper hadn’t taken them both at the same time. “Do you remember you telling me that on the day Buffy disappeared, you were running late, and instead of picking her up from school, you had to send the babysitter?”
Savannah nodded, then pressed her hand to her mouth when she seemed to realize what this meant. “They intended to kidnap us both. Together. And when I wasn’t there, they took Buffy and came back for me later.”
John nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
“We have to find this bastard,” she pressed out through a clenched jaw.
John sighed. “Thomas, is there any way you can find the hacker?”
Thomas shook his head. “I wish I could, but unless he makes another attempt at accessing the site, I can’t trace him.”
“That’s it,” Savannah said suddenly.
“What?” John asked.
“We have to make the hacker access the site.” She looked at Thomas. “We can put a tracing code into the site and follow it to him. You know how to do that, right, Thomas? If not, I can—”
Thomas lifted his hand. “I can do it, no problem, but we have no idea how long it will take for the hacker to come back to the site to access it.”
“Then we’ll have to give him a reason,” she said.
“What do you have in mind?” Thomas asked the question that was also on John’s mind.
“We have to assume that he has a spider monitoring the site and knows when new material is uploaded.”
Thomas nodded.
“Yeah, but—”
“We’ll just need to upload new photos, embed a tracing code in them, and create a new client file in the database so it looks legit,” Savannah continued undeterred.
“Brilliant,” John praised, then addressed Thomas, “Can you do that?”
“Nothing easier than that. Only thing is, we need pictures of a pretty girl aged between nine and twelve,” Thomas replied.
“Easy,” Grayson claimed. “Let’s use the aging software that Eddie purchased a couple of months back. We can use photos of one of our female staff members and age her down to about eleven.”
If it worked, this was the best idea the hybrid had ever had. John nodded at him. “Do it. Who do you think will give us permission to use their photo?”
“Permission?” Grayson asked with a frown.
John scowled at him. “Yes, permission.”
“I do,” a female voice said from two desks away.
John turned his head in her direction. “Isabelle?”
The twenty-two year old hybrid approached. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear you guys.”
“Savannah, this is Isabelle, Samson’s eldest. Isabelle, this is Savannah Rice, our client.”
The two women exchanged greetings.
“You can take my picture. The software works best the less years you have to shave off somebody. Eddie showed me how it works,” Isabelle said.
“You would do that?” Savannah asked.
Isabelle smiled. “I was kidnapped once myself, and I know how frightening it is. Anything I can do to bring your little girl home, I’m happy to do.”
Savannah reached for Isabelle’s hand and clasped it. “Thank you, thank you so much.”
“Well,” Thomas said and turned back to the computer. “Let’s get to work.”
23
It took the team at Scanguards a mere thirty minutes to create several pictures from Isabelle’s original photo, upload them to the photographer’s site and add a client file with a fake address.