by R. T. Wolfe
She couldn't hear what Eddy said to him. It sounded like growling profanity. He grabbed a tissue as the blood started to drip. It was comical, Eddy sticking his chest out, holding the tissue to his nose and arguing about what she could only assume was the fact that Eddy had taken the sketch of Zheng from Duncan's personal printer.
It didn't seem that it was going to be one of those short, testosterone things men did. They were nose to nose and getting louder. Eddy jerked his head forward, head butting Duncan in the forehead. That was effective. Catching his balance, Duncan faked a second jab before he rounded a hook to Eddy's jaw. Both would be on the floor and bloody if either had truly wanted to do honest damage. She stepped forward to intervene when Eddy noticed her. He snarled at Duncan, turned his eyes down and took a step backward.
Duncan must have sensed the reason for his retreat and glanced over his shoulder.
"If you boys are done with your male posturing, can we can get started, Duncan?"
The sneer from Duncan to Eddy was one she'd never seen before.
"Isn't a fist to the face enough? Do you have to mock him?" she said as they entered her office.
"He asked for it. Are you sticking up for him?"
"Yes."
Duncan's feet stopped but only for a moment. She shut her door but kept her blinds open. Pulling one of her guest chairs around her desk, they sat together as she booted up her desktop computer. She noticed Duncan's coffee steaming from the far side of her desk. He must have dropped it off before he went to pick a fight with Eddy.
"You better hope he doesn't press charges."
"Pft. He's more of a man than that," Duncan said as he picked up his java.
"I want to go first," she said, ignoring her briefcase for now.
He sat back, signaling he was ready.
"I can't tell if the feds listened to what I had to say or not. They acted like they didn't. They said there has been no suspicious activity at the house. We know that to be true. They shared a lead they had on the match we've been looking into at Madison Square Garden. But only because they wanted me to be forthcoming with what Tanner told me. It's like a game of frigging Ping-Pong. They won't tell me they dug up my past. I can't tell them I know because they'll suspect about the hacking into their database. I won't tell them I've been in the white house, because it's none of their damned business. Which means they don't know Moody has cameras in each room. Or did, at least." She took a long swig of soda. "Regardless, they're shutting me out."
His head jerked toward her. "What do you mean, 'shutting you out'?"
"I mean they don't want me to have any part of their infiltration of the boxing match at Madison Square. I can't figure out what to do about it."
"You can do something about it?"
"Your turn. I'm ready." Somewhere she knew she should have asked if he was ready, but right then, she was in survival mode and it was all about her.
He accepted her change in subject and answered, "We found the person whose name was listed on the files chronologically entered before and after the missing one. A Leslie Jacobsen. Or, we found her office. She was out of town, but Andy and I... worked around it."
"You broke into the woman's office? Were you seen?"
"Yes, but what are they going to do? I hid the file in my coat. Unless she has secret agent cameras hidden in her florescent lights, no one knows I took anything."
"Except you were seen at her office, and now she has a missing file. How did you get in? Weren't there people watching?"
"A file that was illegally hidden and secured. How are they going to get me for it? And Andy is a smooth, fast talker. He got me in."
She rubbed her hands over her face. "Okay, okay." She slid the file from her briefcase as it sat on the floor. The file was old and labeled with her new name. Placing it on her desk, she continued. "What else?"
"You haven't opened it, have you?" It was a rhetorical question.
She shook her head.
He took her hand. She pulled it away. She knew it was cold, but she couldn't keep it together if he coddled her.
"Before I open this, I need to tell you where I found it."
He spoke softly. "Jacobsen works for IEM."
Her eyes widened as they darted to him. "What the hell are you talking about?" She wasn't dense. She knew what initials he was referring to. "You think? Don't give me a hunch, Duncan. I need the facts. I can't take hunches right now."
She squirmed in her seat. She hated that she was losing control, especially when it had to do with her parents.
None of this made sense. "But the tab on the file folder says Nickie Savage, not Nicole Monticello. My parents never acknowledged my new name."
She saw his chest rise and fall deeply, the agony in his face. He placed his hand on the file without opening it. "Inside are the police reports from the night you were taken. They detail the scene of the crime, through to the subsequent Amber Alert."
Her fingers still wouldn't move to open it and see for herself no matter how many times she told them to. Thankful Duncan knew her well enough to sense this, she nodded to him as a signal to continue.
"No prints were found. A few items in your room were broken or disheveled, showing signs of a struggle."
She'd never remembered much of that night. Had she fought? What had she worn? How was she taken? She waited impatiently, afraid to speak.
"All seemed to be expected except for two things. Nickie, your screen wasn't cut. Your alarm was intact. There were no signs of a forced break-in."
* * *
Nickie insisted on riding in a commercial jet like normal people. It was petty, she knew. But for now, she needed as much familiarity as she could get and thought riding in Duncan's plane or even in first class wouldn't do that for her. She was simply confused. Duncan rode in coach with her. He had his stubborn side, his introverted side and the side of him that loved big, expensive things. But when it counted, he was the most giving and flexible person she'd ever known.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked from the two inches the economy seats provided between them.
"I need to put an end to this, Duncan. Once and for all. I want to know. I'm finding myself suspicious toward everything and everyone. Was it my parents who had my file listed with my new name? They're the ones who want nothing to do with this part of my life. Or has Zheng or Moody infiltrated their files and employees? Or maybe this Leslie Jacobsen made the decision on her own?" She was thinking aloud. A man of few words made for a good listener.
"The FBI has the chance at taking them all down. I'm positive they have eyes on the bugs at Moody's white house, but if they're waiting at Madison Square..." Her thoughts became jumbled. It was all confusing. She yearned for clear vision.
They touched down in Terre Haute as the sun came up. Midwest land was flat for miles. She took a short moment to see the sunrise from such a distance away.
They took a cab from the airport to the penitentiary. He did it for her and her need for familiarity, and it all made her wish he'd rented one of his ridiculous cars. They let him work on his tablet but only in the first waiting area. She left him there as they escorted her back.
Tanner was in much better shape this time. Still thinner, but his face was clear of the swelling and bruises. The defensive wounds on his hands were healed. He was clean shaven and his face was back to its caramel brown instead of the gray she'd seen the last time she was here.
They had him in a different room, but it was similar. Chair bolted to the floor. Bindings that seemed to be part seat belt and part straightjacket. Except they didn't cuff him this time. He must be acting like a good little boy.
"You look good," she said as she slung a boot over the metal chair that sat at the opposite side of the small metal table.
"Are you planning to make a habit of this, Nick? Because I'm a busy man."
It made her laugh, a guttural icy gut-laugh. "I want to know about Zheng. Zheng and Moody and how far this goes." She slapped down the file lab
eled with her name on the tab.
He winced at the sound of Zheng's name as he'd done before. "So, that's how this is now? You pull the puppet strings, and I give up information whenever you decide you want something?"
"Pretty much, yeah," she said with a smile.
"You can turn off your sweet-as-a-southern-belle act. I've already seen it. And don't even try the sultry blonde who pretends to be a bit dense. I'm not biting. And your rules? You can take them straight to hell."
"How is isolation, Tanner? No visitors in the shower? No one using you as their pedophile punching bag?"
He leaned closer to her. She saw him check the guard as he did. "You can't threaten me."
"We'll see about that." She lifted from the chair and motioned to the guard that she was done.
"No luck, Detective?"
She clipped on her belt and checked her cuffs, the safety on her gun and her phone. "Patience," is all she said to the guard who had done her pat down. Except patience was a sensation that had been escaping her all too often lately.
Duncan lifted his eyes from his tablet as she plopped down in the chair next to him. Other men would have asked why she was back so soon. Since it was obvious, he didn't. "We have three hours before we need to be back at the airport. Would you like breakfast?"
She didn't want food, but he knew that already. "Okay," she answered.
They found a hole-in-the wall diner. Duncan Reed may like big and expensive, but he had an appreciation and a taste for good, family diner cooking. He ordered a small mountain of food. She had fruit and dry toast. She'd be damned before she let her biological genes take over her pant size.
"I want to be done with this, Duncan."
His nod was slight.
"The girls would have been punished because I ran away."
He set his fork down. "What?"
"That was how they kept us in line. They knew who worked the best under fear and those of us who caved better under guilt. For most of us, it was the latter. If we didn't perform to their standards, they beat the other girls. They forced us to watch and made sure we knew we were the ones who were the cause." The pain was insurmountable. The confusion of Zheng and Moody and now this fucking file, it was all forming into one big ball and rolling straight toward her.
"A few girls didn't care. They were past caring about the rest of us. I get that now. They were beaten if they stepped out of line. I ran away. I'm the only one I know of who pulled it off in the eighteen months I was in captivity. They would punish the girls severely for it. I am likely the cause of someone's death."
"What can I do?"
"I am going to take some days. I never take vacation time. I'm due. Madison Square is this weekend. I'm going to stake out Moody's incognito Friday night. Saturday, too, if I need to." She held up her hand to the expression on Duncan's face. "I know, I know. If I get caught I could be kicked off the force, lose my job forever. But I need this, Duncan. It's why I entered the academy in the first place. Does that make sense? I did it for the girls. I changed my name for the girls."
He slipped his hand over hers and this time she let him.
"I think Moody will wait for the night of the boxing match, but I can't afford to miss him. I'm going to be ready the Friday night before and then the night of the match too. He's going to bring the girls to his white house, Duncan. I can feel it."
"You can't take them all down yourself."
"No. But I can try and keep them contained until the feds arrive. You say you have access to his security system? I am going to ask you to do something illegal. You might get caught. I'm putting you in danger."
He lifted the corner of his mouth in a rare Duncan Reed smile. "What did you have in mind, Detective?"
Chapter 26
"You don't understand. You mean more to me than anything else in this world. It would kill me to see you in trouble."
"I've hacked into foreign government databases."
Her mouth dropped. She knew about the FBI files. That was astounding in itself. But this? "Where? When?" Instinctively, she looked around, hoping no one could hear them. Other than an elderly man sitting on a stool at the counter, she and Duncan were the only customers in the place. Their waitress made her way over with a pot of coffee in one hand and their bill in the other.
Duncan thanked her for the refill, then leaned in once she left. "I had a customer who wouldn't pay. It was years ago. Said he had recently gone broke and filed for Chapter Eleven. He had filed, that was true. But Andy and I were able to find overseas bank accounts. Large overseas bank accounts. A few anonymous tips, and suddenly he had canceled his Chapter Eleven and was able to pay up. I figure we saved a number of individuals from a scam large enough to cost millions."
She rubbed her hands over her face before lacing her fingers together on the top of her hair. "Oh, jeez. Okay. But that's not government."
"When we were kids—"
"You two did this when you were kids?"
"I had this ability. I had no respect for the curse, or my gift as you put it. I used it to my advantage while keeping it a secret. Andy still doesn't know how but he knows I can memorize passcodes, long passcodes. He has this incredible talent for building, constructing if you will. He's the safety guy."
His eyes literally lit as he explained. It was damned frightening. And a bit sexy.
"We can't do anything before he sends out signals to a half-dozen states and sometimes other countries. He knows which ones are lax in their security and how to code our trails so we wouldn't even be able to break the path we leave."
"Countries?"
"Right. Rose's biological father was born and raised in Nicaragua. We broke into the government files and found warrants for his arrest. You know the rest of that pitiful story."
She did. The man was Rose's blood and was ready to kill both her and her mother. "I'd like to see the video feed from Moody's security system. Can you do that?"
"I'm afraid not. It's not satellite. I'd have to be networked to the cable feed on his property. Although—"
"How about the bugs? Can I see them? I know you're keeping an eye on them."
"Wait right there."
She took a bite of his scrambled eggs while he was gone, then washed it down with his juice.
He returned with his tablet, and right there in the middle of the diner, he logged on and opened the feed. There it was. The feed rotated between the three visual bugs. The audio was constant. She heard wind as she watched. The first was the shot of the parking lot. It was knee-deep in snow. Prints from animals ran in crisscross lines across the sixteen spot parking lot, but no car or human tracks were found. The next image must be from the one stuck to the front door, because it showed the walk leading to the house. Nothing had been shoveled. The last one looked like it was attached to the window on the west side of the front of the house, but it had snow on it and was hard to see through the white.
"We're watching from San Diego right now. See?" He showed her more than she wanted to know. Than she should know. "And see? It changed to Tampa. Andy is a safety freak genius."
She shook her head back and forth a dozen times. "Okay," she said, then repeated herself, "Okay."
"Before we go on, I'd like to revisit the 'lose-your-job-forever' part of the conversation."
"It would be worth it." Saying it aloud cut like a knife, but it was true. "I know there are more organizations that do this, that this is only one group. But if I could get rid of them, Zheng, Moody, free all of the girls, it would be my purpose. It's why I'm here. There are organizations, ones that work on a national scale to free girls and boys in captivity. I've been researching them, and I could... go to work for one of them." It choked her to think of it, but it was time. It was damned time.
* * *
Nickie didn't know if her rush was from being this close to taking down these bastards, or the fact that she and Duncan were doing it illegally. Probably both, but the rush was there nonetheless. There was no need to stake out Moody'
s place across the road. She had the constant feed from Duncan's tablet. She stuffed the thought of the ramifications deep in her subconscious. She was a survivor. It wasn't that hard.
They were staked out in the local bed and breakfast at the edge of Alabaster. It was the same one they stayed in after their first stint at Moody's place. So far, there was no activity, but it was early on the Friday night before the Madison Square Garden fight.
"We might need a lot of caffeine. This could be a long night." She sat on the bed with three pillows propping her up. With her laptop sitting on her legs, she polished her last report of the week for her captain. She'd taken the weekend off. The expression on Dave's face when she requested the time was unsettling, like he thought she might have leprosy. He agreed quickly enough. Had she ever asked for time off before? She couldn't think of a single time. And how awful for Duncan.
She wasn't the easiest person to live wi—around, she corrected, before she caught herself in a self-imposed taboo. Which was one more way she wasn't easy. She couldn't imagine ever turning into that girl. The kind you live with, marry and—she physically cringed—have children with. What did she know about commitment, giving or children? She didn't grow up with anything that vaguely resembled a normal family. She was never around children or siblings, and certainly never babysat. Between her childhood, her time in captivity and jumping around foster homes, by the time she reached Gloria's house, she was past the point of learning to nurture.
She checked on Duncan. He sat in a recliner at the corner desk. His tablet rested on the table, facing outward so both of them could watch the lifeless changing feed. He had marriage and children written all over him. It was funny how she would be one of the few people who would think this. The magazine that labeled him The Taste of L.A. wouldn't know it. His Hollywood customers wouldn't know it. The fact that she did scared the living hell out of her. He deserved someone who wasn't moody, wasn't broken and didn't need to carry a .45 M&P in order to feel worthy.