The woman coughed then cried out, a tear sliding down her cheek, a sign the narcotic wasn’t serving much purpose. “You Chandler?” Pain laced the raspy voice. Not the kind of pain one felt from a bruise but the kind Hunt had experienced himself after a bad gunshot. It was crippling, all-consuming. The only difference was his eventually faded. This woman had no shot at surviving this torture.
He leaned in so it wouldn’t be such an effort for her to speak.
“Husband. Dead.”
Hunt frowned. “Do you know who killed him or who did this to you?”
“Rena.”
Where had he heard that name before? “Did Rena have anything to do with Lieutenant Franklin’s murder?”
Another racking cough suspended conversation.
As much as he wanted to walk out, to let this victim achieve the peace only death could bring, he had to push for more information, anything that would lead him to the ringleader. “Do you know Rena’s last name or where I can find her?”
“No. Never saw her.” She stopped again and closed her eyes. For a brief second, Hunt thought she was gone but she surprised him by finding his gaze again. “Find her.” Another cry escaped her cracked lips and Dave coughed over Hunt’s shoulder, clearly uncomfortable.
She coughed again, the sound like a rusted door opening. “Need water.”
Hunt took the cup from the bedside table and offered the straw to her parched lips. As she drank the cooling liquid, her eyes began to glaze. There wasn’t much time. “What’s your name?” He didn’t figure it would help the case but suddenly it seemed important that someone knew the name of this woman who would die because of her husband’s crimes.
“Shannon Everly.” She surprised him by reaching out with her hand and covering his, though the movement must have been sheer agony. “Thank. You.”
Her eyes closed again and her breaths shortened.
“I’m sorry, but you should go now.” The nurse walked forward but Shannon managed to shake her head.
“No. No more pain. Please.”
Hunt straightened and walked to the end of the bed, ready to leave, but Shannon called out to him once more.
“Check the warehouse.” Her words were barely distinguishable across the distance. “Bomb. Check.”
Hunt and Dave exchanged glances and Dave headed out of the room to follow up. The warehouse explosion was a good lead, more than they had to go on in a while. Hunt took a couple of steps back toward Shannon’s side but she drew in another rattling breath then grew silent. The heart monitor beeped once, twice then began a slow, steady whine as the green line scrolled across the screen.
“Damn.” Hunt left the room as the nurse began disconnecting the monitors and machines.
Dave met him in the hall. “Dispatch said there was a warehouse fire down near the docks last night. One body was found inside. No identification, burned beyond recognition. He was taken to the county coroner.”
“Call and let them know the John Doe’s last name is probably Everly, at least I’m hoping that’s his last name too. I’m going to run her husband and see if I can get a list of known associates. We’re closing in on this bitch.”
Metal clinked against metal and the women scurried back into the shadows, fear sending them into hiding. Hinges creaked and silence descended, so thick and oppressive Carley could hear her own heart beating.
Footsteps clicked on the steps descending into the dungeon and the snick of a light switch preceded a flood of light that bathed the room.
Carley couldn’t suppress a gasp as she got a full view of the other women in the room. Gaunt, disheveled and dirty, seven of them, all naked, huddled together as one, bony arms wrapped around one another to form a useless shield against whatever harm approached.
Tugging against the chains, Carley began to struggle in earnest again. Whatever these women were, they weren’t sex slaves, and a sickening knot formed in the pit of her stomach. Maybe they were being used as examples, a way to keep the women who would go up for auction in line. The thought made her even sicker.
Finally the footsteps ceased, but the stairs still shielded the visitor from her gaze. She ground her teeth together and drew in a deep breath. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen. She would not give her captor the pleasure of hearing her beg or seeing her cry.
“Carley Morgan.” The distinctly feminine voice triggered Carley’s memory. This was the bitch she’d heard seconds before she’d felt the stinging pain at the back of her neck.
Who in the hell was this woman and what did she have to do with Franklin’s death? Or even more important, what did she want with her? “You obviously have the advantage since you know my identity.” She stopped fighting the restraints as the footsteps resumed and the woman walked to stand in front of her.
A petite brunette with dark eyes, the woman had added to her sultry allure with smoky eye shadow and wine-colored lipstick. Wearing a classic-looking suit of soft blue linen, she moved forward on dagger-sharp stilettos of at least five inches.
“Oh don’t be so modest. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I didn’t know the identity of one of the most infamous thieves of this century.”
Carley summoned a smile that managed to erase the one on her captor’s face. “And you knew who I was simply by my name. I guess I should be flattered. Perhaps that’s why you don’t want to introduce yourself. Is it possible I wouldn’t know you even if you were to provide me with your name?”
The words struck their target. The woman’s onyx eyes narrowed and her mouth formed a thin, disapproving line. The struggle for self-control was evident on her face. She finally opted to change the subject. “Have you met your roommates?”
Carley didn’t take her gaze off the woman’s face. She committed each aspect to memory even down to the mole next to the bow-shaped mouth, hoping she’d have the opportunity to identify her to the FBI. “Not exactly sex slave material.”
“These women were not up to par.” She examined her fingers. “My clients are extremely choosy when it comes to their…partners.”
Carley lifted a shoulder in an affected careless shrug. “So why not just kill them?”
A gasp sounded from the corner of the room and her captor laughed. “I wouldn’t risk pissing them off, Ms. Morgan. You’re going to be here with them for a while.”
Now wasn’t the time for relief. She hadn’t been granted a reprieve. There was a reason why she wasn’t already dead. Killers didn’t leave witnesses so, apparently, this woman wanted something from her. Maybe even needed something. “Hmm, I guess that means I’m not going to be your next victim, either. Why is that?”
“You’re not as stupid as I thought you were.” The woman’s voice hardened. “Fortunately for you there’s something I need, and you’re going to help me get it.” Carley remained quiet, giving her nothing, showing no emotion. Her father had taught her well, training her to stay calm in the face of danger, give nothing to the enemy that could be used against her.
“Not even interested in what that something is, Ms. Morgan?”
Still Carley didn’t speak, just blinked at her.
The woman’s lips parted to reveal even white teeth. “If I were to need to contact someone who worked in close proximity with Lieutenant Franklin, who would you suggest?”
“I’d suggest you go to hell but I’m sure you’ll be going there soon enough anyway.” Though Carley tossed the words out carelessly, her mind raced.
Had Franklin kept something hidden, something that could incriminate his partner? The thought almost made her smile. She couldn’t help but wonder if her captor was as confident inside as she sounded. Perhaps not if she thought Franklin had information that could destroy her.
“I have two names and you’re going to tell me which one I should contact, Ms. Morgan, or things are going to get ugly.”
“That’s an idle threat considering the only person I gave a damn about was killed by Lieutenant Franklin who, I believe, w
orked for you or with you. So there’s nothing else you can do to me.”
“You might be surprised at what I can do.” The brunette strolled forward, engulfed in the aroma of floral perfume. “Like, say, telling you your sister is actually alive and well.” She tapped one finger against her cheek. “Actually, maybe not well but, as far as I know alive.”
Carley’s heart stuttered and her mouth went dry. Could it be true? Could Dani actually be alive? “Why should I believe anything you say?”
The woman lifted her shoulder in an elegant shrug. “You don’t have to believe anything but on the off chance I’m telling the truth, don’t you want to try to stay alive long enough to try to find her? The only way you can do that is by cooperating with me.”
Believing anything this woman said was unpalatable but if there was even the slightest chance Dani was still alive she had to know…she had to find her. “So what is it that you want?”
“My sources tell me that Detectives Hunt Brandon and David Polponia worked closely with Lieutenant Franklin. Now I want to know which one would be the best person for me to contact about a business proposition.”
“What makes you think I would know?”
“Because you’ve been sleeping with Detective Brandon.” The woman bared her teeth in a parody of a smile. “Is that surprise I see on your face? Did you really think, once I found out who your sister was, that I wouldn’t track you down? It didn’t take me long, actually. You didn’t even try to cover your tracks, which I find astounding considering your career choice.”
Carley’s heart rate sped up as knowledge sank in, becoming a stark, vicious reality. This woman didn’t want her help, she wanted her as bait. And though Hunt might not like her very much right now, he wouldn’t let her die. He would take the bait and possibly lose his own life in the process, which probably meant anything this bitch said couldn’t be taken for truth.
“You have a very expressive face. I imagine that can be a downfall for someone in your profession.” The woman spun around and started toward the stairs. “It looks like I’ll be contacting Detective Brandon then. I’m sure he’ll be very helpful. If not, I’ll let you know his last words. Who knows? They might be of some comfort to you.”
“Were you telling the truth about my sister? Is she still alive?” Though the effort might be wasted, Carley had to ask. Ordinarily she was very good at reading people but this woman, she was like a block of ice.
“That’s something you’d have to ask the man I sold her to. Oh but wait. You won’t be in any position to ask any questions. I have the perfect buyer for you, and he’s looking forward to meeting you.”
Her high heels clicked up the stairs and as the door closed behind her silence descended in the dank room once more. But it didn’t matter. Carley had caught something in the woman’s voice, possibly a kernel of truth.
And that truth was going to get her out of here because now that she knew there was a possibility, no matter how slight, that her sister was alive, Carley would get out. And she would find Dani…right after she killed the bitch who sold her.
“How did it go?” Deputy Director Baulding waved Hunt into the interrogation room he’d taken over. His laptop and a stack of files took up one end of the table and a large screen TV, the channel tuned to a local news station, took up the opposite end.
Hunt stood in the open doorway, his shoulder against the metal frame. “The victim was the wife of a low-rent criminal named JT Everly. He was killed in a warehouse explosion down at the docks last night. She was badly injured, died not long after I got there.”
Baulding blew out a breath. “I take it you got nothing from her then?”
“I got a first name. Not much but at least it’s a start.” As the director’s eyes lit up Hunt continued, “A woman’s behind this. Goes by the name of Rena. The victim never saw her so we don’t have anything else to go on but…” Hunt’s words trailed off when his boss got to his feet, his face several shades whiter than his starched shirt. “Director? Is everything okay?”
Tugging almost frantically at the collar of his shirt, Baulding nodded, but it was more of a jerk. “How generic is that name? Is it popular in this area?”
Hunt tipped his head to one side. “I haven’t done any research on it but it’s not a Jim or Ann. Director, is there something wrong? The second I mentioned that woman’s name your skin became practically translucent.”
Baulding gripped the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles whitened and as Hunt watched him, his eyes narrowed to slits. It might not be much to go on but it solidified Hunt’s belief that the director knew something he wasn’t sharing.
“Is whatever it is you’re not telling me pertinent to this case?”
The director’s head swiveled. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He adjusted the knot in his tie, loosened it then tightened it.
Hunt moved fully into the room, closing the door behind him. “I wasn’t aware that I was being ridiculous. I asked a question. Maybe it was the wrong one. A better one probably is do you know someone named Rena?”
Baulding looked like he wanted to slug him. His hands balled into fists and Hunt considered taking a defensive stance. If the man was going to come at him, boss or not, Hunt would take him down.
Shoulders slumped, Baulding backed into the chair he’d abandoned. “It’s probably even ludicrous to mention it but in the interest of full disclosure, my wife’s name is Rena.”
News to him. Hunt thought back to the last time he’d seen Deputy Director Baulding’s wife. A party at their house last 4th of July. She was a petite brunette, pretty, kind of bitchy and more than a little flirtatious. She’d come on to Hunt enough times to make him uncomfortable. Baulding had tried to rein her in, calling her over to him several times, but the name he’d used definitely hadn’t been Rena.
“I thought your wife’s name was Annie.”
“Middle name. She hates Rena, never uses it.”
Hunt wasn’t buying that his wife’s first name was the only reason the director had lost all color. There had to be more, something much more damning, he’d wager. “Okay. Well, do you believe she might be involved?”
Baulding cursed, straightened and whirled around, stalking toward the coffeemaker that set atop a rickety table in the corner of the room. “I’d like to say no.”
“What makes you think you can’t?”
“Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves.” Baulding’s voice was so strained it was tinny. “My wife’s been on a personal vacation for a few months. We thought the separation might do us some good. She didn’t mention coming here, but then, I doubt she would have told me had I asked.”
Hunt didn’t reply. Admitting your marriage was in jeopardy to a subordinate had to be a bite in the ass. He figured there wasn’t much he could say to make that any easier, and he wasn’t touching his boss’ suspicions about Rena until he had concrete proof of his own.
“If you know if she paid by credit card, we can run it to check her travel itinerary.” Hunt figured that was about the safest thing he could say at present. The last thing he wanted was to get in the middle of a marriage on the rocks, but he was going to catch the bitch behind these kidnappings and murders. And if that meant pissing off his boss, well, he’d just have to take his chances.
What was that saying about damning the torpedoes? One thing was for sure though. If he went after the deputy director’s wife, he’d better make sure one of those torpedoes wasn’t taking direct aim at his ass.
“Chandler?” Baulding turned from the coffeemaker, his eyes now bleary. “I don’t want to think my wife could be involved in something like this but while you’re checking, my secretary quit before my wife left Virginia. She just left a note telling me she was quitting.”
“And now you don’t believe she quit?”
“I’m not sure what I believe but it wasn’t like Robin to walk away from her duties like that without talking to me. I tried to call her several times to discuss it but I kept getting her voi
ce mail. Finally I called her mother, who hadn’t heard from her either. She filed a missing persons report but the police haven’t had any luck finding her.”
Sounded like cause for concern to Hunt. “Sounds like you think your wife might have something to do with Robin’s disappearance, at least that’s what I’m hearing in your tone.” He gave the director the option of denying it.
“Let’s just say some things are starting to come into focus, and I’m not liking what I’m seeing.”
No man would like knowing his wife was a cold, calculating murderer but other than a pale face Deputy Director Baulding was taking the potential news remarkably well. A little too well for Hunt’s level of comfort.
He’d find out where Rena Baulding had been these past few months—but hers wasn’t the only itinerary he’d be perusing.
Chapter Thirteen
A plan. Carley needed a plan, a way to get word to Hunt before that woman did. The first problem once she got out of these damn chains was finding a phone.
“Was she right about that Brandon guy?” The same blonde who’d been talking to Carley earlier approached from the shadows.
Carley craned her neck to see the cuffs securing her wrists. “I know him.” She wasn’t about to share any more information, not until she knew if any of these women were foes.
The woman picked her teeth. “Hope you haven’t gotten too close to him. I mean, that you don’t care about him or nothing.” She looked up with a frightened look in her hazel eyes. “He’s gonna die.”
“Not if I can help it.” Carley jiggled the chains again.
“Whatcha think you’re gonna do? It’s not like you’re in a position to help him, and I wouldn’t believe anything that woman says about your sister. You can’t trust her.”
That Carley could agree with. She dropped her gaze back down to the woman’s face. “What’s your name?”
The fear in those watery eyes grew stronger. “You don’t need to know my name.”
“You know mine.” Carley softened her voice in an attempt to put the woman at ease. “And if I do have a plan that could get us all out of here, wouldn’t you want to know what it was?”
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