“Yes, sir. Omaha is the go word.”
Silently, Davis and half his detail moved out using the trees as cover on their way to surround the main entrance.
Jake turned to the young sergeant left with him. Using hand signals, he instructed them to move out in pairs, spreading through the trees and slowly making a net to prevent anyone escaping.
“Erie One come in,” he said into his watch phone.
“This is Erie One, Eagle’s Nest. We’re in position,” Dave replied.
“The net is in place. Close the water exit.”
“Roger that.”
Jake inhaled and slowly blew out the air. Everything was in position. It was up to Luke and Abigail now.
* * * * *
Standing on the bridge of the Coast Guard boat about a football field’s length down the shore from the estate’s pier, Dave heard Sami’s announcement that Luke and Abigail had arrived. A final boat steered into the dock. He contacted the second Coast Guard boat to move closer. No one was to enter or leave the area now that their people were inside the mansion.
He wished he was inside. It ate at him that both his younger brothers and their women were inside where all the potential danger lay and he was working the perimeter. Matt and Katie didn’t worry him too much. The pair worked well together. He’d seen that when they’d helped rescue his wife last winter. They’d watch each other’s back.
It was Luke that had him concerned. Usually, he was the smart ass who would take unnecessary risks. Hell, that’s how he’d gotten into hacking and nearly jailed as a teenager. It had taken a few rounds in the kick boxing ring and a serious conversation to convince the kid his skills could be put to better use. In the past, he’d always been a good team member, but this was a different case. This time he was in the epicenter and his life was on the line, not to mention the lives of his partner, Abigail, and their witness, Ms. Mathews.
For the first time his youngest brother seemed to be taking the situation very seriously. It was as if finding these women and stopping the slave traders had become personal.
A smile tugged at his lips.
Okay, it was Abigail that had made it personal to Luke. That was evident from the moment he’d introduced her to them. Sometimes it just took the right woman to make a man step up.
As the boat neared the shoreline and the mansion came into view, he lifted his binoculars to watch the last group of guests exit the small yacht.
A large bodyguard exited first, securing the gangplank. Behind him came an Asian businessman and a young, barely dressed woman. He shook his head. In all his years in law enforcement, it never ceased to amaze him what kinds of kinks people would get into.
The trio walked down the gangplank and to the entrance to the patio where dozens of people mingled. He adjusted his scopes to study the crowd. Although there were definitely guards walking discreetly around the perimeter—big, bulky guys in suits—none seemed to be openly carrying weapons. What they had under the suits was a whole other question.
After a few minutes, Luke stepped out on the patio, a scowl on his face and on his arm—
Holy shit!
Abigail looked like a supermodel dressed to catch the eye of every male in the place.
* * * * *
“We’re glad you could join us tonight, Mr. Edgars,” Peter Hollister said, shaking Luke’s hand.
As they’d driven to the mansion Abigail had studied pictures of all the guests expected to be at the auction party tonight, as well as the management staff of Hollister-Klein, on her laptop. Peter Hollister, the Chief Marketing Officer for the company, was just as movie-star handsome in person as he was on the website. A number of their guests tonight were corporate managers for their clients. Was being part of the sex slave ring a perk for doing business with Hollister-Klein and part of Peter’s marketing plan?
“I’m most happy to be included in tonight’s gathering. Such a nice change of pace from the usual country-club fare most companies offer,” Luke said, using his charming I’m-harmless smile on one of their hosts. He turned to nod at her. “This is my girl, Ms. Whitson.”
“Welcome, Ms. Whitson.” Not offering to shake her hand which would suggest she was his equal, Hollister slid his gaze over her from head to toe and back, stopping at her chest where the black lace dress hinted at everything beneath. She tried not to shiver in disgust at the leering interest the man didn’t even bother to hide.
Despite Luke’s displeasure at her outfit, compared to the other women in the room, she was almost dressed conservatively. Other than a lingerie fashion show she’d once attended with Brianna, she’d never seen so many corsets and thongs on display in one place. While she maintained an exterior calm and subdued image—a submissive woman on the arm of the man responsible for her every need—her inner self wanted to gawk open-mouthed like a kid at a circus sideshow at the other women on display.
To keep from smacking the arrogant prick Hollister, she gripped Luke’s elbow tighter, lowered her eyes and gave what she hoped was a demure smile.
It must’ve worked because he shifted his attention back to Luke. “I see she’s quite well trained.”
Luke gave a scoffing laugh. “She is now, but it’s taken quite a bit of effort to convince her who was ultimately in charge. But the training has had its benefits. She meets my needs on every level.”
Grinding her teeth, she subtly pinched the inside of Luke’s arm as they discussed her as if she were no more than a pet or piece of property. She knew it was all part of the act to fit into their environment, but he didn’t have to enjoy her humiliation quite so much.
“I can see how she would.” Hollister gave her another creepy onceover, then turned away, dismissing her as unimportant. “I wonder why, then, you’ve chosen to attend our little party tonight?”
“As delightful as it is to have my girl so well trained,” Luke said, glancing at her, then turning back to Hollister, “I find I’m in the mood to acquire new property that might need a firmer hand, if you will. Nothing like taking raw material and forging it into a rare gem. And no cost would be too high.”
At least on paper. The cover he’d given himself and the backstory of his bank account she’d set up was one of the reasons Hollister singled them out right after they arrived. Other people’s greed was such a useful tool.
It was Hollister’s turn to laugh. “I think you may be quite interested in what we have available tonight. Perhaps you’d even consider making a trade or offering your girl as part of a discount on new merchandise?”
Luke’s arm tensed under Abigail’s hand. As much as she didn’t want to blow their cover, she was glad the other man’s suggestion made Luke angry. It made her feel secure, something she hadn’t felt since she stepped foot inside the mansion.
“Oh, I’m not done with Ms. Whitson yet,” Luke said, then nodded to the right corner of the patio. “Isn’t that Judge Pardell?”
Hollister’s attention pivoted to the far corner and a smile of pure greed parted his lips. “Yes, it is and I must have a word with him. Do feel free to sample any delights you might find, won’t you? The main art gallery is open tonight.”
And with that he wove his way through the crowd like a shark searching for fresh blood.
“Damn, I need a shower,” Luke muttered as he reached for a champagne flute on the tray nearing them.
“Don’t say that too loud,” Katie said, holding the tray as steady as any experienced waitress and offering a smile. “They may offer to take you up on it.”
Abigail bit back her grin. She liked Luke’s sister-in-law. She didn’t hide her disdain for the people circulating around them.
“Be careful not to get too close to these guys,” Luke said quietly to Katie as he handed the glass to Abigail and reached for a second. “Don’t want you disappearing tonight or Matt will have my head.”
“Don’t worry, I can handle myself.” Katie smiled at them and moved back a bit. “Yes, sir, we’re circulating canapés, too.”
Luke clinked his glass with Abigail’s then took a slow sip, turning to scan the crowd on the patio. She followed suit, not making eye contact with anyone, but cataloging each face with those from the guest list. Besides Judge Pardell there were two county judges from the southern portion of the state, an assistant district attorney, corporate heads of several technology and financial companies, as well as foreign businessmen.
“I don’t see either Senator Klein or his son Dylan,” she leaned in to whisper in Luke’s ear.
He nodded, then turned and stroked a finger down her cheek, gazing into her eyes so deeply she almost forgot they were on a case. “They’re here somewhere and they’ll be the ones to lead us to your friend. But we can’t make a move until we’ve located her, so perhaps it’s time to peruse the mansion’s artwork?”
Oh, great. She’d seen glimpses of some of the art around the main ballroom. Little more than black-and-white porn, in her opinion. Given the sliminess of Peter Hollister, she could only imagine that the club’s gallery held more of the same.
“Smile, darling,” Luke said as he steered her towards the French doors leading back into the ballroom. “The women in the photos might just be some we’re looking for.”
Even though she knew she’d never forget anything she saw, she put on a smile and walked beside him. She’d look at the photos for the evidence, but planned to make a deep, dark file in her brain and never bring the images out once she put them there. Please God, don’t let any of them be Brianna.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Dylan stood at the foot of the bed, tying his black bow tie and studying the woman stretched out before him. Her hands firmly bound to the railing of the headboard, she would be a tempting vision to several of their guests. He let his gaze wander over her alabaster skin from her toes to her face, the cuts and bruises inflicted upon her by his men in various stages of healing—a sensual palette of black, blue, purple, green and darkly dried blood against all her white skin.
Yes, in this condition Master Lee would pay quite a price for her tonight.
He retrieved his black onyx cufflinks from the dresser and worked them into his cuffs as he watched the gentle rise and fall of the slut’s breasts as she slept, exhausted and drugged on the bed. Despite his mastering of her body and commanding her to tell him where she’d hidden the flash drive with the company’s secret accounts, she’d held firm to her story of leaving it with an Abbey. Even when he’d resorted to sodium pentothal, she’d never wavered from the same statement.
It was a shame, really.
Had he known she possessed such strength of will, endurance to pain and stubbornness, he would’ve taken great pleasure in taming her to meet his needs. The combination of those traits in a female was rare. He would have to search long and hard to find another such specimen. But there was too much at risk in keeping her around. Even if he never found the flash drive, getting rid of her as a witness was the best option. Obtaining a substantial financial boon to his coffers was an added bonus.
Given Master Lee’s proclivities, he doubted even Brianna could withstand his special brand of torture for long. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone from whatever Abbey she’d left the flash drive with finding her or proceeding with exposing the company’s most lucrative investments.
Shrugging into his tuxedo jacket, he slowly pulled the sheet up over her body. It would be a special delight to reveal to Master Lee what was beneath.
* * * * *
Aaron moved into the bushes near the side entrance of the mansion. He paused and listened for anyone raising an alarm at his movements.
None came.
He flashed his laser pointer three times at where he’d left Jackson to signal he was in position. The kid was to stay put unless he got the SOS signal to come running.
Slipping between the bushes and the wall, he studied the door to his left.
Simple dead latch lock. Should be easy enough to pick.
With deft fingers, he used his two picks on the lock, opened the door and slid inside. Pressing his body against the wall, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim light inside the basement hallway.
Again, he listened for the sounds of an alarm or the pounding of feet as guards ran to answer a silent alarm.
Nothing.
No noise but the sound of the catering team farther to his left.
Apparently the club suspended any alarms on a gala night such as this. Made sense. No one wanted the intrusion of the local authorities while they sold humans to the highest bidder, just because a caterer or guest opened the wrong door.
He eased his way down the hall, staying against the wall. Coming to a doorway, he tested the knob and breathed a sigh of relief when it opened.
The scent of chlorine hit him.
Great, he’d found the cleaning closet.
He slipped inside. It was actually a good spot to study the map Edgars had sent his phone without worrying about getting caught.
“Carlisle, I’m inside just south of the kitchen in the lower level. No alarms. No guards,” he said over his watch phone on the frequency the FBI agent was monitoring.
“Do you have a clear sight to the area?”
“The hallway from the door is free of personnel. I can start working my way inward.” He was itching to get moving and find the women.
“Hold your position for now. Luke and Abigail just moved farther into the house.”
“I’m a go when you give the word.”
He hunkered down near the door, keeping it cracked to watch any activity in the hallway. He just prayed no one came looking for a mop.
* * * * *
Matt moved in tandem with his wife staying within a few feet of her as they worked the rooms with glasses of expensive champagne, wines and delicate hors d'oeuvres. He’d snuck a sample of a few back in the kitchen and had to admit that Paolo was quite a talented chef. Too bad his highest-paying customer was a pervert whose sex slave ring they planned to shut down tonight.
Katie moved to a group of older gentleman with her tray of drinks. Something one of them said made her smile, but not her friendly, happy smile. No, this was the slightly tight one she gave whenever she was uncomfortable, but didn’t want the other person to know it.
Damn, what had the gray-haired bastard said to her?
He slipped around two couples just in time to see another of the men reach out and grasp her ass.
A growl sounded low in his throat, but he swallowed it and moved closer as Katie moved out of the man’s reach with a forced laugh and headed out of the ballroom.
“Easy, Matt,” she said into the ear bud in his ear. “You can pummel them later once we have what we came for.”
“Stay clear of them when you go back in,” he muttered, heading in the same path she’d just gone towards the kitchen. “The bastard touches you again and I’m breaking his hand. Accidentally, of course.”
Turning the corner, he slammed right into her, clutching her to him with one arm and balancing the nearly empty food tray in the other.
“What the hell—?” he whispered.
“Shh.” Putting her fingers to his lips she pointed to the stairs leading up from the outside door to the lobby area they’d just left.
Walking through the lobby was an older oriental man with a bodyguard proceeding him, but what caught Katie and Matt’s attention was the slim woman walking behind him. Eyes downcast, she had a bracelet on one hand which was attached to a diamond chain, the other end clutched firmly in the man’s hand.
Matt pushed Katie farther down the hallway, away from the group and out of sight. Just as they stepped into a shadow to continue watching, the group bypassed the main ballroom to a room off to the left. A quick rap on the door and it opened. A face very familiar to the Edgars family appeared.
“Ah, Master Lee, it’s good to see you’ve arrived,” Senator Howard Klein shook the Asian man’s free hand and ushered them into the bookshelf lined room.
Matt hit the butto
n to communicate with all the team. “Senator Klein is on the premises.”
“Any sign of Dylan?” Luke asked.
“None yet. He may be in what looks like a library with his father. Another player was escorted there.”
“Who?” Jake asked.
“A Master Lee.”
There was a pause, then Luke came on. “Abby says he has a major international import-export firm like Hollister-Klein with ties all over Southeast Asia.”
“You any closer to finding Ms. Mathews?” Jake asked.
As the team talked, Matt moved Katie farther down the corridor so as not to attract attention, but still able to keep an eye on the door still guarded by Master Lee’s bodyguard.
“Not yet, although Hollister hinted there might be something special available this evening. He directed Abby and me to the art gallery hall. There are a few couples milling about in here as if they’re waiting for something.”
“Perhaps Dylan Klein?” Katie asked.
“Could be,” Jake said. “But now we have a bigger problem. If Lee has international ties and gets Brianna out of there we’ll never see her again.”
They could all hear a soft gasp from Abigail. Katie looked at Matt with wide, worried eyes.
“We’ll start closing the perimeter. Matt, can you and Katie meet Jeffers on the lower level and start checking the rooms down there?”
“We’re on it.”
He grabbed Katie’s hand and headed back to the kitchen. They deposited their nearly empty trays on the counter, then went into a hidden area by one of the hot boxes. Katie pulled out her over-the-shoulder bag and was handing Matt his weapon when Kirk F. Patrick stepped into the kitchen.
“Where you two headed?”
Matt slipped his weapon into the small holster in the back waistband of his pants. “It’s time to start searching the place. You know what you’re supposed to do?”
VANISHED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Edgars Family Novel) Page 22