by Tl Reeve
“Uh,” she murmured. “Soon, I hope. I promise,” she qualified, smiling down at her friend. She leaned onto the counter and whispered, “I want to treat them to a good, ’ ol-fashioned Cajun dinner. Can you help me out?”
“Child.” She grinned, smacking Sabine with her towel. “I thought you’d never ask. Give me a minute, and I’ll fix you up something grand for your boys. It’ll make them come running for more of my food, and I’ll finally get to meet them.”
Sabine laughed. “I’m sure you’ll meet them soon enough, Momma.” The older woman made a non-committal noise and pursed her lips before heading back the way she came.
Sabine glanced outside at the couples strolling by and wondered if that would be her, one day, with Kyle and Stuart. The idea of them staying in her life once the case was finished had its appeal. It was only after they had left that she had taken the time to examine how she felt about them. She’d quickly figured out why she had freaked on them. Although she had only known them a short time, she was falling in love with them. It was no longer about them being her heroes. It was about the connection she had with them. They made her feel as though she were the most precious gift ever given to them. Could they possibly love her, and, if so, could she be falling for them as well?
Soon Momma returned to lay three bags filled with containers on the counter.
“Momma, it’s too much. We’ll never finish all this food.”
The old woman laughed and patted her hand. “You have men to feed, child. Can’t hope one box will fill them up.” Momma grinned. “‘Sides, I bet they’ve got hearty appetites.”
Sabine knew there was a double meaning there, but she didn’t take the bait. “Big Momma, you’re crazy. How much do I owe you?” She reached for the bank card in her back pocket, but the kindly woman stopped her.
“Nothing, girl. This one is on me. Go have a good dinner with your men.”
“But they’re not my men.” Yet.
The woman shook her head and pushed the bags toward her. “Give them some time, girl. They’ll come ’round. Trust Big Momma.” The woman smiled, urging her to take the bags. “Bring them with you the next time you come, dear, and don’t wait so long to visit.”
Sabine grabbed the bags and lifted them off the counter. “Soon, Big Momma. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to it, girl.”
***
The tactical truck drove slowly down the side streets of New Orleans. Inside, Stuart and Kyle sat, ready to take down Rutherford. The guys in the club should have made contact by now, but if the place was busy, the chance might not present itself to make the call. The one time they had made contact was when they walked in.
Now the three teams were prepared to surround the place and make entrance. From their position, they would surround the alley and use the back door. Half the team would break right and hit the manager’s office while the other half would make full sweeps of the bar area. Because of the way the teams were set up, no one would be getting out of there without someone seeing them. The tactical truck pulled to a stop in front of the alleyway, assuring no traffic would be getting in or out.
That nagging feeling in the pit of Stuart’s stomach since he sat down in the meeting hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was stronger now, twisting his gut into several knots. The urge to call Sabine and check on her one more time beat at the back of his skull. She hadn’t called him or Kyle back since the first phone call. He knew she was tired, but this? It wasn’t like her to not answer. Yet what did he really know about her? Yes, they’d been with her since the moment she had arrived at the police department. However, that didn’t mean anything. For all he knew, she was long gone without even leaving a Dear John letter.
No. He stopped himself from thinking along those lines. She wasn’t one of his exes. She was Sabine.
Stuart pushed everything aside and got ready to exit the truck. The comm mic in his ear popped, and the countdown began. On the count of one, they would file out of the vehicle and make their way quietly down the alley. He had to pay attention. He needed to stay in the moment. Focus. Pretty soon you can go home to your girl. He checked his gun and glanced over at Kyle, watching him do the same. Go time.
The doors opened. Two by two, they filed out, quickly making their way to the back door. Since it was a steel door locked from the inside, one of the SWAT members stepped forward and put a C-4 charge against it. With his proclamation of “Fire in the hole,” everyone turned away, covering their ears for protection. The team commander gave him the go ahead, and the door was blown. The concussion of the blast hit Stuart right in the chest, rattling his bones and knocking him silly for just a moment. When the smoke cleared, the same team member threw in a flash bang to confuse anyone who could be waiting for them on the other side. They stormed the building. Kyle went one way, and Stuart went the other. One by one, the rooms were cleared. Shit, there’s nothing here. What the fuck happened? Stuart wondered.
When the dust settled, the place was completely empty. Not one customer or any of the workers were there. Plainclothes detectives, Maco and Gomez, members of the four-man team who had been stationed in the club, were found in the walk-in freezer, dead. The two had been killed, execution-style, with bullets to the backs of their heads. The other two detectives weren’t anywhere to be found. Someone had ratted them out.
“Son of a bitch!” Stuart kicked the outside of the freezer and shook his head. “Better call a meat wagon and get the forensics team out here as well.”
“There’s more.” Kyle’s team had entered the kitchen and stopped in their tracks. “The business computers and the security monitors and computer are gone. The wires were cut. It looks like a hasty retreat. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear someone tipped them off.”
“Fuck. Okay. We’ll start with forensics. We know there are also warehouses linked to Rutherford in town. We’ll check those as well. But this is our priority.” He turned to another team member. “What’s our ETA on the medical examiner and our forensic team?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Good. I want everyone out of the area unless they need to be here. I don’t want this place contaminated. Also, I need someone to make the call to our station chaplain. We’re going to have to see Gomez’s and Maco’s families.” Stuart stepped out of the room with Kyle hot on his heels. There was a snitch in their ranks, one who knew about the raid. But the only people in the know were the chief and the team.
“What are you thinking?” Kyle stopped behind him as he stepped out the back door.
“We got caught with our pants down, and if I know Rutherford as well as I think I do, the guy is in the wind already. We’re fucked.”
“There are twenty guys on the team, not mentioning our boss, and our boss is connected to the mayor,” Kyle paused. “What was it they said about this town?”
“It’s corrupt as a motherfucker.” Stuart ran his hand down his face. “We’ll have to proceed as though everyone is the enemy. No one is safe to talk to. We give our statements, make out our reports, and do the leg work ourselves. Got it?”
“You know it. Hey, have you tried Sabine? I did after we cleared the room. I have this feeling in the pit of my stomach.”
Fuck, he didn’t want to hear about feelings or not getting hold of their girl. “I tried right before we left. She didn’t answer. Let me try again.” He pulled out his phone and hit speed dial. Sabine’s phone automatically went to voicemail. He tried the house line and got nothing as well. “Something is wrong. I can feel it.”
“Me, too.”
Moments later, Stuart’s phone chimed with a text message. The number, however, was familiar to him. “Goddamn it!” He turned the screen toward Kyle and watched the man visibly pale.
I hope you don’t mind. I’ve retrieved my property. Sabine is quite valuable to me.
Stuart’s automatic reaction was to redial the number that appeared on his phone. Even knowing deep down it would lead nowhere, he tried anyway. When th
e high-pitched intonations filled the line and the automated, “This number has been disconnected or changed,” came through, he threw his phone.
This was not happening. This couldn’t happen. She was supposed to stay inside and not go anywhere without them. What the hell were they thinking, leaving her on her own? This was all their fault. “We’ve got to go, man. We need to get to the house and see what’s happened.”
“I’ll let the guys know and grab one of the squad cars out front. Meet me in five.” Kyle ran back in, and Stuart followed, going straight for the front of the bar. By the time he was outside, a car had been made available to them, and they climbed in, headed for home.
“She could be anywhere by now.” Stuart knew what he sounded liked—a bit frantic and more than a little pissed off. Whoever had tipped the guys off had given them at least a two to four hour head start. With the lake and the Gulf sitting before them, they could be half way to Jamaica or Florida. The detectives would know more when they ran the tills on the bar register and got the last transaction time.
“We have to hope she’s somewhere close,” Kyle said, turning left onto their street. “Once we figure out where she is, we’ll take the kidnappers down and make sure Rutherford and his cronies go away for life.”
Chapter Eleven
Sabine groaned. Her head throbbed as if a million jackhammers were beating around in her skull. She tried to open her eyes, but it was as if they had been glued shut. No, not again. The events leading her to this situation were sketchy to say the least. The last thing she remembered was walking home from Momma Jane’s. She had planned on calling the guys once she got home to make sure they would be on time and to let them know she had dinner for them. After that, it was a blur.
She rubbed her eyes, finding them full of gunk, and her heart sank. If she was right, the gunk was the same protecting cream she had found in her eyes the first day she had arrived at the warehouse so she couldn’t see where she was or how she got there. So gross. She grabbed a corner of the stuff and cried out when she pulled it out of her eye. Her eyes watered, lubing up the second piece as she pulled that one as well. Sabine blinked and wanted to cry. She was back in the darkness and, from the feel of it, the cage.
“Well, look who’s awake,” a male voice said, seconds before opening her cage.
“Hey, dickless wonder,” she spat. “I see you’re still dressed in black. Always the bridesmaid….”
“Bitch,” he snarled, smacking her across the face.
“You hit like a little girl.” Sabine licked her lip, tasting blood.
“Keep talking, bitch, and I’ll gag you.” He grabbed the front of his pants, palming his bulge.
“On that Tic Tac? I highly doubt that.” Sabine smirked, but swallowed hard, trying desperately not to puke.
By now, the guys would know she was missing. Or so she hoped. It had all seemed so simple—they’d do their takedown, arrest the bad guys, and come home. Now…. Shit, she didn’t know. They could be dead, Sabine, and it’s all your fault. No, they were alive, and they were looking for her. They couldn’t die. Not when the three of them had a life to build together. Somehow, some way, they would find her. She couldn’t have been given a taste of heaven, only to have it ripped away from her.
“Why, you little cunt,” the man roared then backhanded her. The world went fuzzy around the edges.
“Fuck you,” she mumbled.
“I would love that.” His lips twisted into a cruel, malicious smile. “Good night, sweetheart.” He hit her again. Pain bloomed in her head, making the world spin once more. The sound of bees buzzing filled her ears, and she cried out before slumping against the floor.
Hours, or perhaps days, later—she didn’t know—Sabine eyes fluttered open then closed quickly. It was too bright. The light made her head pound and her stomach churn with nausea. She lay on a bed in a room she didn’t recognize. Resolve filled her. Even though her head spun, she knew if she had escaped once, she could do it again. She’d have to plan and prepare, of course. It might take some time, but she would learn the layout of the house, get in good with a guard…yeah, she could do this.
“So what’s the plan this time? Are you going to keep me locked in this room and play with the lights?” She didn’t know where the courage to back talk the guy came from, but she couldn’t just sit there.
The guy laughed. “The Master will be here soon then you will see.” She watched as he turned away from her, leaving the room.
Sabine stood up. She needed to get out of there.
It was only a matter of time before the Master showed up. He might not have done anything to her before, but this time, she wasn’t so sure. Standing up, she moved around the small bedroom. The room was bare. Only a small air mattress sat in the middle of the floor. There were no windows and only one door. The floor was covered in silt and dirt, and if she had to guess where she was, she would say it was in a basement of some kind. Above her, the wooden floor squeaked as someone moved around. Dread coiled in her belly. The guys knew about the warehouses, but this wasn’t one of them. This was a house. Where it was located, she didn’t know.
Sabine sat down on the bed and brought her knees to her chest. She didn’t want to think about what would happen next or how dire her situation was. The guys had to find her. They had to. There was no ifs, ands, or buts about it. She just had to hold on. This time, she needed to be patient.
“Ah, Sabine.” Her head snapped up, and she came face to face with the police chief.
“What the hell are you doing here,” she snarled, pushing herself farther away from him.
“Is that anyway to say hello?” he asked, closing the door behind him and stepping farther into the room. “You could make this easier on yourself.”
Sabine laughed and shook her head. “Easier? How in the hell can I make it easier on myself? I’m a fucking prisoner.”
“And whose fault is that? You could have had everything, Sabine. A nice life—more money than you could have ever spent—but you couldn’t be a good little slut and stay put.” She watched as the chief prowled toward her. “Instead, you cost the Master millions of dollars in livestock.”
“Livestock? They were women, for God’s sake, not cattle.” She couldn’t believe what the man was saying.
“Nonetheless, they were product. Now you’ll pay.” The chief moved back to the door and pounded on it. “The Master will be here in thirty minutes. You’ll shower upstairs and wear what’s been provided for you.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll be forced to kill you.” He shrugged. Sabine stared at the man. His gaze was devoid of any emotion. It was as if he had simply stated that the sky was blue.
“I’m sure that would be a hardship for you, too,” she spat.
“Not in the least, Miss Babineaux. You would do well to remember that.” The door opened behind him, and two men dressed in the familiar black getup crossed the room, picking her up by her arms. “A half hour, Miss Babineaux.”
Kyle and Stuart would have applauded her for her patience. She allowed the men to lead her up the stairs to the main part of the house and then up to where the bathroom was located. Inside the small bathroom was a change of clothes and everything she would need for a shower—minus anything she could possibly use as a weapon. The Master was smart, she’d give him that. Sabine took a moment to look at the clothes placed on the counter for her and did a double take. They were clothes from her father’s house. Stuff she hadn’t worn in a good ten years. How is that possible?
She quickly and quietly showered and got dressed. When she was ready, she emerged from the bathroom and walked directly into the arms of one of the men dressed in black. Sabine’s skin crawled with disgust. She didn’t want to be around him, let alone allow him to touch her. She stepped back hastily, balling her hands into fists. “Watch where you’re going,” she hissed, curling her lip.
“Says the bitch who walked into me.” He laughed. “Get your ass to the dining room. T
he Master wants to see you.” Compelled by his not-so-gentle shove, she stumbled before righting herself.
“Asshole,” she muttered, glancing back at the bastard. The man cocked his head to the side and wiggled his fingers at her. “Disgusting bastards.”
As she walked into the dining room, a long table piled high with food awaited her. Sitting at the head of the table was a man wearing a tailored black raw-silk suit. His crimson shirt was accented with a black tie and vest, and he wore black wraparound glasses. His salt-and-pepper hair was cut military short, and there was an air of authority around him. The Master. She watched in fascination as he cut into a piece of medium-rare prime rib, dabbed some horseradish on it with his knife, and took a bite. His motions were refined. Elegant. Not something she would expect from a known killer. The Master used his fork and knife to gather some of the steamed vegetables then placed them in his mouth.
The urge to clear her throat and gather his attention made her fidget. It was unnerving watching him take bite after bite of his food while her stomach growled with anticipation and her mouth watered at the aromas filling the room. She took a step toward the table and heard the clatter of silverware hitting his plate. The Master pinned her with a glare, stopping Sabine in her tracks. Her hand itched to reach for an apple sitting in the bowl next to her. The last time she had eaten anything had been the morning the guys went to work—whenever that was.
“Sabine Babineaux,” he said, wiping his lips with a cream linen napkin before pushing his chair back and standing up. She glimpsed the black handle of a gun holstered right below his armpit as he buttoned his jacket. Had the man not made her stomach turn to water in revulsion, she’d have found him sexy as hell.
“Steffen Rutherford, or should I call you Master?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’d say it was a pleasure, but we’d both know that was a lie.”
In three graceful strides, he was across the room and standing before her. His arm wrapped around her and pulled her against his hard body. Sabine swallowed down the bile building at the back of her throat while trying to block out the rich scent of clove-and-honey aftershave he wore. She attempted to push away from him, but no matter how much she moved, he held his grip, tightening it until she couldn’t breathe.