“Yes, he shoved the gun in my back. When I get in, the driver had gun too. He turned and pointed it at me. Then the other man get in.”
“Can you tell me what the driver looked like?”
Karol shook her head. “They both had on mask like Hollywood movie star.”
“What happened next?”
“The man in back with me, he put tape on my mouth and tape my hands together. He put a thing on my head.”
“Like a hood?” Michelle asked.
Brows furrowed, Karol looked at Darla sitting next to her, then back at Michelle and shook her head.
“A hood — um, like a bag that covers your head,” Michelle explained.
“Yes. It was hood, like a cloth bag, on my head. I could see nothing.”
Michelle forced herself to push back into the couch and relax her shoulders, letting go of some of the frustration at the snail’s pace of getting the information. “You’re doing very good, Karol. Can you tell me where they took you?”
“I don’t know where they take me.”
“Did you ever get out of the car?”
“Yes, they take me to a room to park the car.”
“You mean a garage like on a house or a big place with many cars?”
“A house,” Karol said. “The room only had the one car we come in.”
“How do you know?”
“The man, he took off the bag from my head and made me get out to sit in a chair in front of a table.”
“What about your hands?” Michelle asked.
Karol shook her head.
“Mouth?”
Again, Karol shook her head.
“Okay,” Michelle reviewed softly. “They wanted you to see but kept your mouth taped.
Karol nodded.
“Did they take you to any other rooms?”
“No.”
“What happened next?”
Tears welled up in Karol’s eyes and she shook her head. Michelle put her hand on Karol’s arm and looked into her eyes.
Michelle turned her head slightly. “Someone get some Kleenex.” She turned back to Karol. “Tell me what happened.”
“They taped my legs to the chair. When I asked them let me go to the toilet they said no. Later I begged them to let me go. They said no.”
“How long did they keep you taped in the chair?”
Karol wiped her eyes with an already damp tissue. “A long time. Many hours.”
“They never let you go to the toilet?”
Karol looked down at the shredded tissue she twisted between her fingers and mumbled.
Michelle reached over and held the back of Karol’s hand. “Tell me, sweetie.”
Karol looked up, tears spilling. “I pee on myself. They don’t care. It is nothing to them. The driver, he noticed the pee on the floor and told the other man. They don’t laugh, or say something. The other man just shrugged.”
“Were they mad when you made a mess on the floor?” Michelle asked.
“No. It was like normal to them,” Karol said.
“Does that mean anything?” G‑Baby asked.
“All of it, the light off in the car, the empty garage, the masks and never leaving her alone, that stuff together says they are professionals. Acting normal when she peed says they were expecting it. They've done this before.”
“Is that good or bad?” G‑Baby asked.
“I think it’s good,” Michelle said. ‘They won’t react foolishly and do something stupid.”
Karol was clearly emotionally as well as physically exhausted. But Michelle had once read that most people lost up to fifty percent or more of their memory of what they saw or experienced after sleeping one night. No matter how tired Karol looked, Michelle had to keep working to get as much information as possible.
“Karol, I want you to drink some coffee. It will help you feel better.” Michelle turned to the woman sitting next to Karol. “Darla, please go get coffee for everyone.”
“Thank you,” Karol said.
“You’re welcome. I wish I could let you sleep but I need to ask more questions while we wait for the coffee.”
“Okay.”
“Earlier you said they made you sit in front of a table.”
“Da.”
“Did they put anything on the table?”
“Da, a computer, it was open and showed a chair.”
“A chair?” Michelle shook her head. “What do you mean it showed a chair? Like a picture?”
“No, a video of the chair.”
“How do you know it was a video?”
Karol closed her eyes, deeply furrowed her brow, and tears ran down both cheeks.
Michelle handed Karol several fresh tissues. “What happened?”
Catching her breath and wiping her tears away, Karol continued. “They just made me sit there a long time. Then someone called the driver man. He talked only a short time then said for me to watch the screen. A man came on the picture. He held a woman and made her sit in the chair. She was scared and crying.”
“Did you see his face?”
“No. He had on a low hat and dark glasses.”
“She was crying. Could you hear her?” Michelle asked.
“Da.”
“And?”
“The man made her talk to me. She cried and tried to talk but couldn’t say the words. He shook her then hit her. She looked so scared.”
“Did she know she was talking to you?”
“Da, yes. There is a little picture of me in the corner of the video. I can see me and I can see her at the same time. I think she had the same pictures of her and me. Also, the man made her hold a newspaper up close to camera so I could see the date. She asked if I could see it.”
“When I nod my head yes, she put it down. The man hit her again. He hit her real hard two more times and yelled at her. He shook a piece of paper in her face and yelled he would hit her again. She read the words on the paper. She was crying and spoke in Russian. The note said, “If you don’t do what is on the letter, this will be you.””
Karol covered her mouth with trembling fingers, closed her eyes, and choked back a sob.
Darla rubbed Karol’s back and leaned against her. “It’s okay, I’m here malyutka.”
“You’re sure. The note said that?” Michelle asked.
“I’m sure it is what she said to me.” Karol blinked several times, wiped her eyes and shook her head. “Also, the man next to me ripped the tape off my mouth. He asked what she said. I told him in Russian and he slapped me. He told me to say it in English. When I told him in English he talked into his phone.”
“Did you hear him?”
“He was standing next to me. I heard everything. He said, “She got it.”
“She got it? That’s all he said?” Michelle asked.
Karol nodded. “That’s when it happened.”
“What happened?”
“I see a hand from another man, not the one holding her. The man holding her is holding with both hands. The other man, he has a gun. She screamed and tried to jump out of the chair. He shot her.”
Karol broke down with deep, anguished sobs. Darla pulled her into a hug and cried with her.
Michelle let them cry until Karol’s wracking heavy sobs slowed, then put her hand on Karol’s shoulder and when she looked up, Michelle gave her a hand-full of tissues.
Karol wiped the snot running down her upper lip, hiccupped, and blew her nose.
“Do you have a letter for me?” Michelle asked.
“Da,” Karol whispered.
“Did the man tell you to keep it until after you told the story?”
“Da.” A small nod.
“Did he give you any other instructions?”
“No.”
Karol nodded to Darla. Darla stood up and with shaking hands pulled an envelope out of her jeans pocket and handed it to Michelle.
Michelle opened the sealed envelope and read the note:
Michelle Angelique,
We
can get you anywhere. Stay in L.A. we don't care.
You have four days to get out of Houston and Billings
Act right, Baby‑Sister lives.
Act wrong, everyone dies.
Silently Michelle handed the note to G‑Baby.
Karol watched Michelle; hiccups had replaced her sobs, tears still silently slid down her face.
“Thank you,” Michelle held Karol’s hands then hugged her. “You did very good with this hard thing. I’m sorry you saw that happen and I'm proud of you for remembering so many difficult things.”
Wiping her nose then blowing, Karol shook her head. “She was so scared. I think she knew those men would kill her. I’m scared too.”
“Yes, they are very bad men.” With both of her hands, Michelle held Karol’s face and looked directly into her eyes. “You are right to be scared. But not too scared. We know a lot more now because you are so brave.”
Michelle turned to Darla. “You can take her upstairs now. Let her sleep. Also, massage her shoulders and her back below her neck. That will stop those hiccups.”
G‑Baby handed the note back to Michelle. “Now what?”
“Now we go hunting.”
.
SIX: News
AFTER DEBRIEFING KAROL, Michelle and G‑Baby headed downstairs.
Even in the emotionally charged circumstances, Michelle's training to constantly be aware of her surroundings kicked in. Odors of fresh paint and carpet glue lingered in the air. Walking through Baby‑Sister's almost finished beauty parlor, she noted a stack of cabinet doors waiting to be installed in the under-counter storage areas and a small piece of excess carpet, rolled into a tube, leaning against a corner by the front door.
G‑Baby's phone rang. “Hold up Michelle, it's Sam. She might have something.”
Michelle checked to see that they were alone in the room. “Put it on speaker.”
G‑Baby tapped the face of his phone. “Hey Sam, Michelle's here. You're on speaker.”
“I'm in the back booth at The Klassy Glass with a special guest,” Sam said. “Our guest has something he wants to tell you guys. We'll wait for you.”
Michelle looked at G‑Baby. “Do you know where they are?”
“It's a neighborhood bar, less than ten minutes from here,” he replied.
“You good to wait for us?” Michelle asked Sam.
“We're not going anywhere,” Sam said. “Mr. Glock is making sure of that.”
“We're on our way.” G‑Baby tapped the face of his phone and put it in his pocket.
They ran to G‑Baby’s car. Michelle took the passenger seat. After two blocks, Michelle tapped the dash. “Uncle G?”
“Yeah?”
“Pull over.”
“What? Now? We gotta get to see what Sam has turned up. It could be important.”
“It could be,” Michelle agreed. “I hope so. But still, pull over. We gotta talk before we get there. It’s about Sam.”
“You sure?” G‑Baby looked at Michelle.
She nodded, “Yeah, I’m sure.”
G‑Baby pulled to the curb, put his SUV into park, and left the engine running. “Okay, shoot.”
Michelle twisted in her seat to face G‑Baby. “Do you trust her? Sam. Do you trust Sam?
“Where’s this coming from? You brought her to us; is there something I don’t know?”
“That’s right, I did bring her to you guys. I brought her because she was recommended by the Vietnamese gang, and as much as possible, I trust them. But I didn’t know her and still don’t. You and Baby‑Sister have worked with her these past months. What do you think? Could she be involved in this?”
“You mean involved in kidnapping Baby‑Sister?”
“Yeah.”
G‑Baby rubbed his face and shook his head. “No. I don’t. Not for any reason that I can think of.”
“Is it possible she wants to take over the business?”
“That’s one I’m pretty clear on. She likes the security well enough, but doesn’t like all the girly crap that comes with the women.”
“What about the money? It could be a big pay-off, set her up real well.”
G‑Baby shook his head. “No. She really isn’t about the money. She’s an Army sergeant through and through. She lives very simply, almost like she was still in the military. What about you? Is there something that has you concerned?”
“Only that Baby‑Sister was taken on her watch. That’s enough for me to wonder.”
“Except she wasn’t.”
“What do you mean?” Michelle asked. “Sam’s in charge of your security. It happened with her in charge.”
“No. We’ve been real clear, she’s security for the girls. I wanted her to make a big impression on the streets, a strong show of force to keep the girls safe. She wanted to put a detail on us, but I told her not to. As much as I’d like to blame someone for this. There isn’t anyone in our house to blame except me.”
“If you say she’s good then I’ll go with it. One thing for sure, this isn’t on you. There’s no way you could stop this.
“I still feel like it’s my fault.
“Hold on. I serious about this Uncle G. If you want to feel guilty, do it after we get her back. Right now, I need you to be clear and thinking straight. Going down the rabbit hole of guilt will screw with everything.”
“You’re right but it’s hard not to feel that way.”
“Talk to yourself, make a deal that you can be any kind of emotional when it’s over. Can you do that?”
G-Baby looked at Michelle. “When did you get to be so wise for such a young woman? You know,” he paused, “I don’t care when it happened. I’m just so grateful you’re here and doing this.”
“Me to Unc. Me to.”
G‑Baby shifted into drive. Six minutes later G‑Gaby pointed to the sign on front of the bar. “That's it.”
“Keep going,” Michelle said. “Drive around the block and drop me off at the front of the alley. Make the block, park out front, and go on in. Give me two minutes. I should beat you inside, but if not, I’ll be there real soon.”
G‑Baby turned up the side street and pulled over at the mouth of the alley. “What's up?”
“A little caution. All we know is they have Baby‑Sister and are willing to kill. This could be a trap or it could be an opportunity for information. I'm not going in blind is all.”
Michelle picked up the Glock G‑Baby gave her earlier and put it inside her purse. “Help me with this zipper.” She had the gun in her hand inside her purse like a mitten and held it out. G‑Baby zipped the purse closed around her hand.
“See you inside.” She got out and listened to the car drive away.
Walking down the alley, she liked what she saw. On her left, tall wooden privacy fences and closed garages made a solid wall. On her right, the backs of small older business buildings bunched together with no passages through to the front street. Most of the buildings had small employee parking lots filled with older or less expensive cars. She strode on past The Klassy Glass to the other end of the alley. Nothing stood out. A short jog and she was at the back door.
With no real choice, she had to enter the building blind. She had a somewhat unknown ally-employee inside, so everything should be good. More apprehension than she should be, Michelle paused a moment, focused on what was coming, and reached for the door handle.
She stepped inside pulling the door closed behind her and froze waiting for her eyes to adjust. A moment later a quick look around revealed a dark empty hall with two bathroom doors on one side. Michelle stood in the center of the hall and inhaled. All she could smell was toilet disinfectant, no perfume or cologne.
From the hall, Michelle saw a long bar with stools running almost the length of the room. A few small tables filled the front area and on the left a row of four narrow booths ran from the restrooms up to the table area. A tall lanky bartender stood behind the bar talking to a man in jeans and a loose- fitting green and white st
riped rugby shirt. A light jacket lay draped over the stool next to him. From the lay of the material, Michelle noted that nothing like a gun was hidden under the jacket. Midway down the bar sat a middle‑aged man with the red cheeks of a hardcore alcoholic. From her position in the hall she couldn't see who, if anybody, sat in the back booth.
A flash of light came in from the front door, lighting up the front of the long narrow bar. G‑Baby entered, stood a moment, and walked toward the back of the bar.
Michelle put her finger to her lips and when G‑Baby met her eyes, she shook her head.
G‑Baby stopped at the end booth. “Hello, Sam.”
Michelle heard Sam's voice. “Are you alone?”
“No.” G‑Baby turned his back to Michelle, slid into the booth, and out of sight.
Good, he's learning. No extra information.
Michelle waited about thirty seconds, stepped out of the hall next to the booth, eyes glued on the man sitting opposite Sam and G‑Baby. Out of her peripheral vision, she noted that Sam didn't look up, but kept her eyes on the man. She also saw the glint off of Sam’s 9mm pointing under the table at the man. “Hey, Sam. It looks clear outside, front and back.” She pointed at the man sitting in the booth. “Who's this?”
“Hey, Michelle. He's a local freelance player. I don't think he's involved but he knows people.”
Michelle unzipped her purse enough to get her gun out. Using her body to block anyone at the bar seeing, she handed the Glock to G‑Baby. “Keep this on him while we talk.”
“My pleasure,” G‑Baby said.
“That's right,” The man said. “Two guns. You best keep that piece on me, old man. You drop your guard and I'll be all over you like stink on shit. Teach you and these bitches some manners.”
Michelle slid in next to the man. “What's your name?”
“Freddy D.” He sat with his hands on his lap and kept his gaze on Sam.
“It's like this, Mr. D. We're here to ask questions. You're here to answer them. The guns, well they're more for whoever might object to our discussion than for you. Now, put your hands up behind your head.”
Freddy squinted his eyes, slowly turned his head toward Michelle. “Bitch —”
Michelle swiftly and accurately punched him in the side of the neck, next to the larynx. Hard enough to seriously hurt, but not hard enough to break anything.
Hard Run: Action Adventure Pulp Thriller Book #4 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Series) Page 29