by Logan Fox
“Punishment?” Finn repeated, wondering if Kane even realized what he was saying.
“Yeah. Look.” Kane used the pen to wedge open the corpse’s jaw. Then he shone a flashlight inside the boy’s mouth. “See?”
Finn’s mouth twisted in disgust, but he crouched a little lower so he could look past the row of surprisingly even teeth.
“Tongue’s gone.” Kane wiped his pen on the bedspread as he got to his feet. “He probably fed it to one of his dogs.”
Finn’s fingers tightened around the cellphone until the casing dug into his palm. Kane shrugged, slipped the pen back in his pocket, and made his way out of the room with a quiet, “Wonder how big this property is?”
Those even teeth were bugging the hell out of Finn. He looked back at the body, trying to see past the decomposition to the bone structure below.
High, defined cheekbones. Sharp nose. Square jaw.
Angel. Which was impossible, because Miguel had—
Miguel was dead in the trunk of the car parked outside. Had he brought Angel back here to show to Zachary? Had Miguel been a traitor?
He’d been the falcon. The one Javier had sent to bring Cora to his compound.
Finn went to a crouch, his arm on the bedspread.
If he and Lars hadn’t been with Cora the day he’d brought her to the compound, she might have wound up at Zachary’s side more than a month ago. But something had told Finn to take her all the way to Javier—something he regretted to this day after the shit Javier had pulled…but maybe it had been better than what had been waiting for her here.
Except…Zachary had still gotten exactly what he wanted.
He had Cora.
We failed her. We failed her. We failed her. We—
Finn swayed forward as he squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden yapping litany in his head.
To steady himself, he pressed his fingers to the bright Zapotec mat under him. When he’d urged calm onto his mind a second later, he became aware of something hard under his fingertips.
Finn looked down.
There, on the carpet, lay a dark bracelet. He picked it up and laid it in his palm to inspect it.
The clasp had broken off.
He stood, turning to the door as Kane came back inside the room.
Kane’s eyes went to the jewelry, and a touch of darkness seeped into the man’s eyes.
“He must have realized it was a tracker.” Kane’s voice was sullen. When their eyes met, Finn felt a pull toward the man. Something inexplicable, like the gravity of a black hole—felt, but not seen.
“Guess he wanted to make damn sure we’d never find her.”
34
Catatonia
Blink.
Cora walked through a narrow passage where the smell of dirt and grease hung in the air. Ahead, a sickly yellow light beckoned, thrown from a bare bulb against one wall. Then everything faded to black.
Blink.
Low key humming. An old tune that she thought she could regonize if her mind hadn’t been so foggy. Cora’s feet moved woodenly under her. Thump. Thump. Thump. She turned her head to find the source of the humming. Zachary strode beside her, a faint smile on his plain face. She stopped walking. He turned to her, his smile inching up as he took hold of her arm and twined it through his. They walked on, darkness edging her vision before everything went black again.
Blink.
A pitter-patter of feet behind her. The humming had stopped. Cora glanced over her shoulder. A pair of pitbulls trailed her and Zachary. The one with the dark fur was several yards back, Lady almost right behind them. When Cora looked at her, the dog wagged its tail and grinned. She wanted to say, ‘good girl’, but her tongue refused to move.
Blink.
The tunnel widened. A gentle slope led up and out. Cora struggled with the change in angle, but Zachary gripped her waist and helped her out. It was a gentlemanly thing to do, so she smiled at him, and he seemed to appreciate that because he smiled back at her as he brushed a strand of hair from her face with his thumb.
“Welcome to Mexico,” he murmured.
Blink.
A roar. Cora’s eyes sprang open, searching. They found the two dogs, but the sound wasn’t coming from either of them. Wind whipped stinging strands of hair into her face. Cora broke free from Zachary’s grip, but he just watched her with faint amusement as she stumbled back and fell hard on her ass. Lady was beside her in an instant. Midnight stole the world away as a warm tongue lapped against the tears drying on her cheeks.
Blink.
Noise enveloped her. Cora tried to focus on the beast descending from the sky, but it was too big, too monstrous. She realized she was fumbling with her ring, and wondered why. When that bright ruby finally popped off her finger, she watched with vague concern as whoever controlled her body turned and put the ring on top of the still body of a darkly-furred dog.
Good boy. Sleep tight. Don’t let the fleas bite.
She laughed, but the sound cut off as the monster made contact with the ground a few yards away. A silhouette moved toward her, arms outstretched.
Blink.
Hands grasped her arms, pulling her up from the ground. A furious wind swirled around her, yanking at her strange new clothes. A dog yipped and barked nearby, but the sound was almost all but drowned out by the hellish rotors of the helicopter. Her head fell back. Her eyes closed. Softness enveloped her.
Blink.
Her center of gravity shifted. When she forced her eyes open despite their reluctance, she saw the tops of trees and distant mountains. Someone shifted beside her, and she snuggled into their warmth. An arm draped her shoulder, and she jerked as a tonally flat voice boomed in her ears.
“Hush, little Elle. Go to sleep.”
So she did.
35
Tighter
The relentless thwack-thwack-thwack of the helicopter’s blades transformed into a soothing drone. Zachary scratched the fur behind Lady’s ear, careful not to disturb Eleodora. She’d slipped down and now lay with her head nestled in his lap, hands under her cheek like a child.
He stroked her hair, tucking a stray strand behind her ear before gazing out of the helicopter’s porthole. Guadalupe spread below them, its rural areas lit by silvery moonlight. But the magnificent view couldn’t keep his gaze. It kept returning to the docile creature curled up on the seat beside him. Eleodora slept soundly, her body finally having caved in to the sedative he’d injected her with.
He was glad she’d wanted to leave the farmhouse; he couldn’t stand the stink of the place anymore. It was disappointing, realizing after all this time that the people he’d hired had all been so useless at their jobs.
They wouldn’t be disappointing any future employers. He’d seen to that, at least.
He drank in the sight of Eleodora; her flawless skin, her glossy dark hair, the plumpness of her lips. Curled up like this, she was a small thing. A little curvier than the girl with the pink toenails—it had been difficult to get the blouse to close around her breasts—but perhaps she could stand to lose a few pounds.
He preferred his women slender, with pronounced spines and ribs. Always had.
Toying with a piece of the girl’s hair, he glanced at Lady. The dog gazed up at him, those soulfull eyes demanding answers.
“He wouldn’t have made the trip,” Zachary said, fully aware that the dog wouldn’t be able to hear him over the sound of the helicopter’s blades. “It was a kindness.”
Lady had to know how much it had pained him to cave in Blue’s head with that rock. The dog had been his companion, his friend. But the staff had forgotten to feed him. Had never bathed him. And the result had been a skinny, diseased animal ripe with fleas and tics.
Even Lady was in desperate need of a bath. He blinked hard, focusing on the dog’s eyes. Why was her nose so dry? Her eyes so cloudy?
Lady whimpered, and he realized he’d grabbed the scruff of her neck too hard. He hastily released his grip and soothed her wi
th a long stroke to her neck.
He had to stop relying on others to do his work. That had been his mistake with Ailin and Rodriguez. He’d grown to trust them. To like them. He’d considered them his friends.
So when this bitch that lay sleeping with the innocence of a fucking child had brought about their deaths…
He’d been incapable of looking after himself.
But no more.
Zachary wound a strip of Elle’s hair around his finger.
Tighter.
Tighter.
The girl shifted in her sleep, but the pain wasn’t enough to rouse her.
Strangely, he hadn’t thought about the cartel in over a week. Not the deal Javier had struck with him, not the contacts he’d so easily acquired.
That had been his old self. His greedy self.
He’d come to appreciate the finer things in life. Hearty food. Obedient companions. The odd glass of wine before bed.
Little Elle would make the perfect companion. For now, anyway, and as long as she didn’t make too much noise like Marco. Marco who’d kept yelling and crying.
Zachary touched his thumb against the corner of Elle’s mouth. He parted her lips, touching her teeth. Her jaw was slack with sleep; he could easily slip his thumb deeper inside her mouth.
He caressed her tongue.
If not…He had a way to deal with noisy pets.
36
Christmas in November
“They’re here,” Kane said, pushing to his feet. He dropped his cigarette to the porch’s wooden floor and ground it out under his feel.
Finn didn’t respond. The man had sank into one of the porch’s two chairs — his a rocking chair — but he’d remained unmoving for the past forty minutes.
Kane was almost out of smokes. He had more in the Jeep, but it felt…wrong…leaving Finn alone on the porch.
Like he’d come back and find the man armed with an ax, chopping up furniture inside the farm.
It was his silence. The complete lack of expression on Finn’s face. Kane had seen a lot in his years on the force, but this? It was like the man had shut down.
A car’s lamps illuminated the two ruts that served as a road leading to the farmhouse. They drove almost right up to the porch; no need for stealth if they knew the place was empty.
Lars had been driving. He slammed the door as he came around the front of the car.
Bailey let out a low, “Lars, wait—” as he climbed out of the car, stretching an imploring hand towards the tall, blond headed guy.
Lars ignored him. He stormed up the stairs and hauled Milo up by the front of his shirt. “So that’s it? We’re just giving up?” he yelled in Milo’s face.
Milo peeled Lars’s fingers off his clothes, and then pushed the man aside with the back of his hand. “You got a better idea?”
“Yeah!” Lars called after him as Milo headed for the SUV. Let’s fucking go find her!”
“How?” Milo pivoted on his heel, head at an angle. His voice was low, dangerous. “Tell me how, Lars.” He stepped closer to Lars. “Because if you know some way to track her? To find out where the fuck Zachary’s taken her? Anything!” Milo took the two steps up the porch and shoved Lars with the flat of his hand. “Then you’d better fucking tell me.”
“Guys, come on!”
Kane looked toward the SUV. Ana, the pretty blond from the party, slid out of the back of the car.
Bailey, meanwhile, had gone around the back and looked to be wrestling with something.
No, someone.
“Who’s that?” Kane called, lighting himself a fresh cigarette as he trotted down the stairs and headed for the SUV.
“This fucker?” Bailey said, hauling a slim Mexican out of the SUV by his hair. “This is supposed to be Cora’s partner.”
Kane stopped in his tracks. The hand holding his cigarette fell limply to his side.
ECV’s second capo.
Hoofuckingrah; Christmas in November.
He drew deep on his cigarette, stepping aside as Bailey dragged the Mexican up the porch steps. He was handsome, clean cut — not even a tattoo in sight.
Maybe that was the DEA’s problem these days. They assumed cartel leaders were all criminals who’d slowly worked their way up the hierarchy, accumulating scars, criminal records, and tattoos as the years passed.
But Eleodora Rivera was nothing but a girl; she could have easily posed as a socialite and no one would have been the wiser. This guy? Despite his slightly creased clothes, he wouldn’t have raised a single eyebrow at any gala or fundraiser.
“You!” came Milo’s bellow as soon as the man spotted the Mexican. He lunged forward, pushing past Lars when the man tried to keep him back, and threw a punch that knocked the Mexican right from Bailey’s grip.
Dust swirled in the SUV’s headlamps as Neo tried to push himself to his feet. His hands and feet had been bound, so he hadn’t made any progress by the time Milo reached him again.
A boot landed squarely in the Neo’s stomach. He rolled over twice before coming to a groaning stop by the second headlamp.
His clothes were dusty now, his face contorted in agony. He lifted bounds hands, but Milo didn’t seem to give a shit. He hauled the man up by the front of his shirt and struck him so hard that his head snapped to the side.
“Milo! You’re going to kill him!” Lars yelled as he hurried down the porch.
But, surprisingly, he didn’t try and stop Milo. He hovered like a concerned parent, but didn’t interfere.
Perhaps he knew what would happen if he did.
Perhaps Milo would turn on him instead.
Milo got in another three punches before Neo was knocked unconscious. Then he released him and stepped away, breathing heavily as he watched the limp body slide to the dirt.
Kane glanced up at everyone’s faces, each painting a different story.
The woman had her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and brimming with tears. Bailey had a grim set to his jaw, but whether that was because he hoped Milo had kept punching or not was a mystery.
Lars looked a touch more pale than usual, but also relieved. Especially when he reached out and touched tentative fingers to Milo’s bicep.
“He’s no use to us if he’s dead,” Lars said, just loud enough for Kane to hear. “Remember that.”
Milo shrugged off Lars’s touch with a growl, and scanned everyone’s faces as if wondering where in the hell they’d come from. It was as if a fog had cleared; Milo blinked a few times, the snarl slowly fading from his face.
“We have to search this place,” Milo said. “This whole fucking property.”
“How big—” Lars began, but Milo simply raised his voice.
“If it takes us all fucking day.”
Kane glanced down at his watch. “Only about an hour and a half left on this day,” he said, directing his voice to Milo. “Moonlight helps, of course, but we might miss something.”
Furious blue eyes darted to him, but then Milo looked down.
Logic prevailed, of course. He knew they’d get nowhere in the dark.
“I can’t just—” Milo began, before cutting off. Lars grabbed his shoulder, squeezing his trapezius as a faint, twisted smile touched his mouth.
“We’re doing the best we can, Milo.”
He thought the burly guy would shrug away that touch, but instead Milo reached up and laid his hand over Lars’s. They didn’t look at each other, instead both staring at the unconscious Neo as if he somehow held the answer to their questions.
Which, apparently, he did.
Milo stormed inside the farmhouse, and came out with a bucket of water. He poured it over the Mexican’s head, prodded him with his boot, and then went to fetch another.
The second roused the man enough for him to start spluttering while the last pint of water splashed over his face.
He kicked out, crying out as he manouvered himself into a sit against the SUV’s grille.
“Fuck!”
“Wakey, wake
y, Neo.” Lars stepped closer, putting his hands on his knees as he bent down to bring his face eye level with the coughing Neo. “It’s time you started cooperating.”
“Fuck you!” Neo snapped. He used his bounds hands to swipe water from his face, and then pointed at Lars. “I’m not telling you a—”
Lars grabbed that finger and twisted.
Kane heard the bone breaking from where he stood with his arms resting on the porch’s railing. He took another deep drag of his cigarette, and turned to watch the woman clump up the porch steps.
He held out a hand, raising his voice over Neo’s agonized scream. “Kane,” he said.
The woman took a second to look at him, and then blinked slowly. “Ana.” She shook his hand with as much strength as a wet fish before turning wide eyes back to Neo’s interrogation.
“Where did your friend take her?” Lars asked slowly.
Neo shook his head, spraying Lars and Milo with droplets of water. “I don’t know! He never said—”
Milo kicked him in the kidneys.
“He’s gonna piss blood for a week,” Kane remarked idly, his words tainted with cigarette smoke.
“C-can I have one?” Ana asked, pointed at his cigarette with a trembling hand.
“Sure thing, beautiful,” Kane said around his smoke as he fumbled in his pocket. He lit one for the woman, and held it out for her to take.
She closed her eyes, dragging hard, and then swiped at a tear with her thumb. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“He must have told you something,” Lars said cheerily, again bending down like he was addressing a pre-schooler. “I know it’s hard for someone like you to think, Neo, but do try. It might just save your fucking life.”
“Doubt it,” Milo said as he laid another brutal kick to the man’s kidneys.
“Fuck you!”
“That all you got?” Lars wore a wide smile now, but it was too frigid to be true. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Even your father was more original than that.”