by T. R. Ragan
When Faith first stepped into Yuhasz’s room, she thought she’d made a mistake. The upper half of Yuhasz’s body was wrapped up like a mummy. He looked pale, nothing like the man she’d come to know. A young woman sat in a chair next to him. She looked up when Faith entered the room. Despite the thick bandages, Yuhasz smiled at her and then introduced Faith to his daughter Holly.
Faith gave her a sheepish look. “Sorry about bashing your dad over the head with a keyboard.”
“Oh, yeah, you’re the one. I read about that. Knowing my dad, I’m sure he deserved it.”
When Yuhasz laughed he had to hold his side in pain.
Holly stood up, kissed her dad on the cheek, and told him she was going to grab something to eat in the cafeteria and she’d be right back.
“I like her,” Faith said after she left.
“Yeah,” he said. “Me, too.”
“It looks like you had a pretty rough night, Detective.”
“I talked to O’Sullivan,” he said. “Sounds like we both had a little too much excitement last night.”
“You could say that again. Not to sound braggy or anything, but I would have to say that between the both of us, you look a little worse for wear.”
He grunted.
She laughed, but it was clear they were both struggling to keep things light.
“The woman who attacked you in the parking lot was found dead inside her jail cell this morning,” he blurted. “She hung herself.”
“Shit.” Faith exhaled and then apologized for cursing. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. Every lead we get turns to dust.”
“Welcome to my world.”
Frustration took its hold on Faith, rattling her bones and threatening to conjure up all the anger she’d been working so hard to keep under control.
Yuhasz must have noticed something was wrong because he started talking. And she started listening, which took her mind off yet another dead end.
“I was on my way to the airport to see how you were doing when I got a call from my daughter,” Yuhasz said matter-of-factly. “She’s been having a little trouble—I guess I should say a lot of trouble—for a while now. Her husband, the same man you recognized in the picture, has been beating her. I had no idea. Needless to say, I got a taste of that anger you’ve been feeling lately.”
She frowned. “Is he the one who did this to you?”
He nodded. “I had a hunch he might pull something like this. I wore a vest, thought I was prepared, but he was fast and he came out firing.”
“Well, I hope he spends the rest of his life in jail.”
“I got a shot off, too. He’s dead.”
She wasn’t sure what to say. “So you’re going to be OK?”
“Just need a few days rest and I’ll be as good as new.”
“There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
“Does it have to do with why you were at the airport in the first place?”
“Yes. I brought something for you.” She placed a hand over her bag. “What I have inside is bigger than the both of us. Hell,” she said, lowering her voice, “the information in here is enough to start a small war right here in Sacramento.”
“Why don’t you show me what you have?”
“Before I do that I was hoping we could agree to a few things.”
“For instance?”
“What I’m about to give you is for your eyes only.”
He started to protest, but she held up a hand, stopping him from saying another word. “The only reason I’m sharing this with you is because you know the system better than I do. But here’s the thing. Bottom line, I need to find my kids, and I wouldn’t want your investigation to interfere with that.” She angled her head. “I can’t just hand this off to anyone. You’re the only one I trust.”
“Faith,” he said. “You know I can’t make any promises.”
“If the media gets a hold of this, every drug lord and trafficking boss in the city will be coming after me and you. The men who pay to sleep with these girls are politicians and lawyers, celebrities and businessmen. What do you think they’re willing to do to keep their names out of the media?”
“What exactly do you have in there?”
“Remember the name Richard Price?”
He nodded.
“Before he was killed, he sent a list of everyone he knew in the sex-trafficking business to his sister. Not just any list, either. A binder filled with names, addresses, and a long catalog of offenses.”
Yuhasz glanced toward the door. “This is big.”
“You won’t be surprised to learn that your son-in-law is on the list. Not only was he a regular customer—it looks as if they’ve been paying David Hofberg off for a while now.”
She saw a mixture of sadness and something else in his eyes that she couldn’t quite pinpoint.
He drew in a breath and then slowly exhaled. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said. “And I want to apologize to you for letting you down.”
Faith waved a hand through the air. “Stop it. We’ve already had this talk, said what needed to be said.”
“No. I let you down. I can see that now. When we first met, my thoughts were all over the place. I’ve been, well, my life has been off balance, and I think maybe you got the short end of the stick. Bad timing perhaps but still no excuse.”
“I appreciate it. But the people who took Lara and Hudson aren’t exactly your average criminals. It’s going to take more than you and your men to take these guys down. And believe me—I know you don’t want me involved. I get it. I’m just a civilian, an elementary school teacher with no training whatsoever when it comes to dealing with traffickers and drug dealers. But I’m already in too deep to bow out now. They know that. I know that. And I’m pretty sure you know that.”
“So, are you going to give me what you have in that bag of yours or not?”
She met his gaze, tried to assess whether or not she was doing the right thing.
He held out a hand. “I’ll keep in mind what you’ve told me. And no matter what happens, Faith, I want you to know that I’ve got your back.”
She looked out the glass window and saw his daughter walking down the corridor, heading their way. She pulled the manila folder from her bag and quickly slipped the package into the drawer of the end table next to his bed. “I’m going to go now. You take care, Detective.”
“I’d tell you to do the same, but what good would it do?”
“We’ll talk soon?”
“You bet.”
Faith returned to the lobby, where Beast and Rage were waiting.
Always the curious one, Rage came to her feet. “How’s he doing?”
“He lost a lot of blood, but he’s going to make it.”
“I guess he’s going to miss out on all the fun when we go after these people,” Rage said.
“I gave him the same information I gave you guys.”
“Seriously?”
Faith nodded. “I trust him. I feel confident he won’t jeopardize my kids by letting the list get into the wrong hands.”
Rage didn’t look happy, but she nodded.
“Bowling alley?” Beast asked.
“Someone’s a little overeager to show off,” Rage told Faith. “He even brought his own ball.”
“It’s all in the release,” he said.
Faith shook her head at their shenanigans. “Let’s go.”
Patrick was not looking forward to talking to Aster Williams. The man knew how to push his buttons, every single one of them. No matter how hard he tried to ignore the asshole’s barbs and stupid quips, he couldn’t do it. As he followed the stone pathway leading to the front door, he saw the eye of a lens following his every move.
Was Aster watching him now? Why didn’t he think of that before he came calling the other day?
Aster’s wife, Rae, answered the door. Her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
“Just here to see the boss.” An
d then he winked.
Her cheeks turned a shade of red before she walked off to find her husband.
Standing tall, hands clasped in front of him, Patrick admired the sway of her sweet, sweet ass as she walked off.
Rae was back within minutes. This time she refused to make eye contact. “He told me to go ahead and bring you back to his office.”
“You look lovely today,” he told her after she shut the door and then led him down the long, narrow hallway.
She said nothing.
“But then again, you always look like a beautiful painting that should be put behind glass and never touched.”
She stopped then and turned toward him. “Please stop. What happened between us was a mistake. We must never speak of it again.”
“What’s going on?”
They both looked to their right, where Aster stood waiting at the end of the hall.
“If I didn’t know better, I would say the two of you were having a private conversation. Mind filling me in?”
Rae’s laugh came out sounding forced. “It was nothing, dear. I promise you.”
“I was just commenting on the architecture and interior design. I’ve never seen anything like it. And Rae told me she did most of the design herself. Quite a talented wife you have.”
“You and my wife are suddenly conversing on a first-name basis?” Aster asked. “I didn’t realize you two had become so familiar with each other.”
“Oh, please,” Rae said. She swished a hand through the air and then headed back toward the front of the house, leaving them to glare at each other through a wall of tension.
Patrick was the first to relax his shoulders and head toward Aster. “I’ve got good news.”
Aster turned away before he caught up to him, forcing him to walk behind him instead of at his side. “Shut the door,” he ordered as he headed for his desk.
Patrick clenched his teeth but did as he was ordered, then waited for Aster to give him permission to take a seat.
Aster pointed at one of the chairs in front of his mahogany desk. “It better be good. I thought I made it clear that I don’t like my subordinates coming to the house. If I did, I wouldn’t bother meeting you and your toadies in an abandoned warehouse across town.” He gazed into Patrick’s eyes, unblinking. “Do we have an understanding?”
“We do.”
“Well, good, then. Tell me why you’re here.”
“I thought you would be pleased to know that I’ve located Diane Weaver.”
“That’s it?”
Patrick felt the urge to lunge for the man. How he would love to put his fingers around his throat and squeeze the life out of him.
“So, what are you waiting for?” Aster asked, mimicking his expression. “A fucking pat on the back?”
Patrick forced a smile as he came to his feet and straightened his tie.
“It wasn’t enough that you fucked my wife while I was visiting my poor, sick mother the other day? You want me to write a handwritten thank-you card for doing your fucking job?”
Patrick did his best not to show any emotion. He couldn’t know. If he did, Patrick would already be dead. So he stood there silently and waited to be dismissed, dreaming of the day he would watch Aster take his last breath.
Aster sighed. “Why is it every time I tease you about my wife, you get flustered? Can you tell me that? Why don’t you just admit that you want to fuck that pussy and you want it bad?”
“I want to fuck your wife’s pussy,” Patrick said, “and I want it bad.”
The two of them stared at each other for a moment longer before Aster burst out laughing and then stood, walked over to Patrick, and clapped him hard on the back. “You’re a strange one, my boy. I don’t know why I like you so much, but I do. I really do.”
FORTY-ONE
The first thing Faith, Rage, and Beast did upon entering the bowling alley was get their shoes. Then they found a nice, quiet middle lane where they would have a good view of everything going on inside the building.
Faith had never heard of the place, but business appeared to be good. Middle of the week and yet the place was packed with people. Birthday parties were being celebrated within private rooms. There was a kid section with an arcade and a bar for the adults.
Faith had bowled a few times in her life, but she never realized how bad she was at it until today. Beast tried to assist, helped her select the right ball with the best weight. He also showed her how to grip the ball and how to release the thumb a split second before the fingers. The whole experience was exhausting, but once she figured they all fit in, she let Rage and Beast do the bowling while she kept an eye on who was coming and going.
“See anything interesting?” Rage asked while Beast threw another strike.
“Just lots of people. Children, couples, birthday groups, businessmen, a little bit of everything including—” She stopped talking when she noticed something odd.
“What is it?”
“Look at the counter where we got our shoes, but try not to be too obvious.”
Rage did as she said.
“See the customer standing there?”
“The dark-haired guy with the red vest?”
“Yes. That’s the guy. Watch where he goes.”
Rage watched him pay the shoe guy, then walk off with a pair of bowling shoes. Only he didn’t look for a ball or head for a lane. He just disappeared down a hallway. “Maybe he’s going to the bathroom.”
“He’s the third man I’ve seen come in by himself, get a pair of shoes, and head that way. The first guy I saw go that way has yet to come back.” Faith looked at the clock. “We’ve been here for nearly an hour, and I haven’t seen anyone come this way. It’s very odd.”
“That is strange.”
“Keep playing,” Faith told her. “I’m just going to go check it out. See if I can find out where everyone is going.”
“Maybe you should take some pepper spray just in case.”
“Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”
Beast called Rage over to take her turn.
“Go throw a ball,” Faith told her. “If anyone’s watching us and we’re all staring that way, they’ll get suspicious.”
“I think we should talk to Beast about this first.”
“Not necessary,” Faith said as she walked off.
Faith pulled a few dollars from her back pocket, then went to the shoe guy and asked him for change. Next she went to the arcade and played a pinball machine. When the shoe guy bent down to spray shoes, she headed for the hallway where she’d seen three men, including the guy in the red vest, disappear.
At the end of the hallway was a door. She turned the knob and went inside, found herself in what appeared to be a dimly lit waiting area. There was a couch and a few chairs surrounding a small wooden coffee table, and a magazine rack like you would find in a dentist’s or doctor’s office. Only these magazines were Hustler, Celebrity Nudes, Sexy XXX. She could hear noises, moaning and groaning, a few whimpering cries that sent shivers through her body. Instead of another door, there was a dark curtain that hung from ceiling to floor. She peeked through the curtain and saw a long hallway, sort of like one might see on a train. Lots of small rooms, but, again, there were curtains instead of doors.
The air was heavy with the smell of vanilla-scented incense.
The third curtain on the left hadn’t been pulled all the way shut. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. A girl’s arms and legs were bound to four posts attached to the painted cement floor at each corner of a mattress. There was no wooden bed frame, no night table or lamp. Just one small, dimly lit wall sconce.
The woman was young, maybe eighteen or nineteen. She looked at Faith, but there was no emotion. She was high as a kite. Faith held her breath and walked on. At the end of the hallway was more of the same. Whether she went right or left, it didn’t matter, just an endless hallway of rooms with dark curtains.
“Can I help you?” someone asked.
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Faith gasped as she whipped about. It was the shoe guy. “I was looking for the restroom.”
“That’s what I thought,” he said as he stepped closer and plunged a needle into her arm.
She pulled away, but it was too late. He’d done what he wanted to do. “This way,” he said. But she turned and ran in the opposite direction, past the dark-curtained rooms, trying to get to the door at the end of the hallway. Every room appeared to be occupied. Every room the same, the women bound, the men doing as they pleased.
Her vision blurred. Feeling dizzy, her legs wobbled like wet noodles right before she fell to the ground. She crawled onward, determined to reach the door, but it was no use. She hung on tight to the last curtain, pulling it from the rod and feeling the dark cloth float downward over her before someone picked her up and carried her off.
Rage couldn’t keep her eyes off the far corner of the building where she’d seen Faith disappear. Why hadn’t she returned? After Beast threw another ball with perfect form and the pins exploded and dropped, Rage said, “We need to go check on Faith.”
“Where is she? I thought you said she went to the bathroom.”
“I lied.”
“What?”
“Faith kept seeing fancy-haired guys in suits and ugly vests paying for bowling shoes and then disappearing down that hallway over there.” She pointed to the hallway past the arcade room.
“And why wasn’t I told?”
Rage shrugged. “I don’t know, really. Faith was acting all weird. She thought we were being watched, and she didn’t want anyone getting suspicious.”
“God damn it, Rage.”
“Don’t yell at me. I was the one who wanted to tell you.”
He looked around. His gaze fell on Faith’s purse. He walked that way and began searching through her bag. “She didn’t take any of these fancy Tasers or pepper spray?”