Hope flared on the woman’s face but faded quickly. “We’re locked in a dungeon. A couple of us have been here months now. Don’t you think we’ve tried to get out?”
Yeah, well, you haven’t tried with me. There wasn’t a lock made she couldn’t pick. “How about just giving me your name first and then we’ll go from there?”
The woman shuffled her bare feet on the stone floor. “Rebecca, though most people call me Becca.”
“Well, Becca, you think you can find something sharp, something I could use to pick the locks on these wrist chains?”
Becca took a stumbling step back. “If she finds out I helped you, I’m dead.”
She? These women didn’t know their captor’s name either? What was it? Some kind of secret? It wasn’t like the woman had any intention of letting these witnesses live. So why not share her name, at least give them something to call her?
“Who’s she?” Carley prodded for information.
“Like we told you, we don’t know her name,” came another voice from the circle of emaciated women.
“Okay, well, since we’re all women here, it’s going to get kind of confusing if we don’t have something to call her.” Carley thought bitch would be appropriate. “So why don’t we just call her Agnes?” The name brought a giggle from behind her. “I know she doesn’t look like an Agnes but we’re working on a time clock here.”
As Carley talked Becca’s shoulders relaxed and she took that one tiny, first step toward trust. “How can you be sure Agnes,” she lowered her voice to a whisper on the name, “won’t find out about us?”
“Because you’ll be long gone before she even knows you’re missing.” She looked over the woman’s shoulder, noticing the other women were drawing closer. “All of you will.” And Carley would be one step closer to finding out the real truth about Dani.
Folding her arms over her chest, Becca nibbled her lower lip. “I don’t know. No one has ever been able to get away from her before…at least not alive. The last woman who tried ended up hanging in those same chains until she died of starvation. We couldn’t feed her or even touch her. I think it’s too dangerous to try to leave.” There were murmurs of agreement.
“So is staying here,” Carley countered. “Do you really think she’s going to leave any of us alive after she tracks down Detective Brandon? And you don’t really think she’s looking for the detective only to talk, do you? Look, she had Franklin killed so what’s one more cop to her? Once she’s done she’s going to get the hell out of town but not before she makes sure there aren’t any witnesses.”
Those same murmurs became anxious snatches of conversation. Becca looked behind her. “You’re scaring them.”
“They should be scared. So should you. This woman isn’t going to sell me because she knows I’m damn good at what I do.” Carley took a deep breath before finishing, “Agnes was right about my being a thief, ladies. I have been for most of my life and I’ve never gotten caught. So do you really think she’s going to let me live? Of course, if she kills me, she’ll have to kill all of you now since you were witnesses that I was here.”
Becca lifted bony shoulders in a shrug. “We knew that girl Dani too, but Agnes didn’t kill us after Franklin took her. She’s keeping us because she’s trying to get money out of our families since no one bought us. I don’t think she’s going to kill us if she thinks she can make a dollar.”
Carley wanted to smack all the women’s heads together. “You can’t seriously believe money is on her mind right now. Survival is all she’s thinking about and, to her, survival includes not getting caught. If you leave witnesses behind, that increases the likelihood of your crimes catching up with you. Just think about that, but do it quickly. We don’t have much time and I’d like to get the hell out of here before Agnes decides to eliminate all of us.”
“Hey, Brandon, take a look at this.” Dave winced. “Sorry. Chandler. Give me time to get used to the new name.”
Hunt took the piece of paper Dave wielded. “You help me catch this Rena and you can call me Popeye.” He scanned the contents and scowled. “Shit. Baulding really isn’t going to like this.”
Eyebrows raising in inquiry, Dave waited for Hunt to fill him in.
“His wife’s first name is Rena, and we now have proof she’s been spending a little time here in our city.”
Dave sucked his teeth and shook his head. “That’s my city, partner. You’re just here on a work visa.”
Hunt flashed a grin, realized how good it was to be working with Dave again even if only temporarily. “I’d better go fill him in, maybe find out if he has a way to draw her in so we don’t have to go looking for her.”
His cell phone vibrated against his hip and he yanked it off and barked his name into the mouthpiece.
There was a slight hesitation before a feminine voice said, “I’m sorry. I must have the wrong number.”
The husky fuck-me voice slapped him like an open palm to the face. Rena “Annie” Baulding. It wasn’t a voice he was likely to forget, since she’d whispered in his ear so many times.
“Who were you trying to reach?” Behind his back he snapped his fingers, signaling the techs to trace.
Another pause followed. “Detective Brandon with the Charleston City Police Department.”
He’d answered the phone with his real name. That’s what had thrown her off. She’d been expecting his alter ego. No sense trying to cover it up now. The longer he could keep her talking, the better his chances of finding her and any other women.
“I’m guessing you’re Rena Baulding. How’d I do?”
She hissed in a breath but when she responded her voice gave no indication of her momentary lapse in control. “So, Chandler, how do you know me? And should I be flattered?”
“Actually it’s Agent Chandler, and I know everything about you, Rena.” He looked over his shoulder at the techs working furiously to track her. One of them made a slicing motion across his neck. Damn. Of course she was using a throwaway phone. This wasn’t her first trip to the market.
Soft laughter flowed across the line. “Somehow I doubt that. Now would you be so kind as to pass the phone to Detective Brandon? It’s obvious, since you answered his cell, he’s nearby. So please spare the insult to my intelligence by trying to convince me he’s not. The good detective and I have a few things to discuss.”
“Obviously I know way more about you than you do about me.” Hunt rolled his fingers, telling the techs to keep recording the call. Maybe they’d hear something in the background on playback, a train whistle, anything that might indicate where she was now.
“Why would I know anything about you?” She sounded genuinely perplexed.
“Because Detective Brandon is an alias…my alias.”
“That’s impossible.” Rena’s voice lost all trace of self-confidence. “I would have known.”
How would she have known? Because of her husband’s position or because he knew she was behind this all along? Was he keeping the law away from her, protecting her even?
Hunt strove to keep his voice even, not letting even a trace of doubt creep into his voice. “Really? Sounds like you didn’t. It’s a bitch to get blindsided, isn’t it? Like those women you took? They didn’t see what was coming to them either.”
“It’s funny. Carley didn’t mention you were with the FBI.”
Rena had regrouped and her words punched Hunt in the stomach. “Maybe she didn’t want you to know.” Though he kept the panic out of his voice, he frantically wrote down Carley’s cell and handed it to Dave.
Snatching the piece of paper, Dave whirled around and snagged his own cell phone, dialing the number so rapidly the beeps were barely heard.
“Perhaps. She wasn’t much of a talker, come to think of it. Must have been the tape across her mouth.”
As Hunt’s temper soared, Dave turned and shook his head. Hunt’s hand threatened to crush the cell phone. “For your sake, she’d better still be alive.”
/> “Definitely sounds like love to me.” Heels clicked against some type of flooring. Wood? Tile? Hunt couldn’t tell.
“Where is she? There’s no reason to keep her. We know about you, about the sex slaves, Franklin’s murder, everything. You’re not leaving this city.”
Rena made a tapping noise against the mouthpiece. “Who said I was still in the city? I’ll be in touch.”
The line went dead and Hunt threw his phone against the closest wall, cursing so loudly the room went silent. “She’s got Carley. She fucking took Carley.”
Dave cursed too but at a much lower volume. “Look, man, you gotta keep it together. We know who’s behind this now and that’s half the battle.”
“How? She could be anywhere by now. I haven’t talked to Carley since yesterday. There’s no telling what time Rena took her, considering she probably has more than enough money to buy her own fucking private jet.” Hunt slapped the desk in front of him, drawing in several deep breaths.
“Agent Chandler, would you care to fill me in?” Deputy Director Baulding strode forward, his hair standing on end and a wan look on his face.
Hunt straightened and whirled, ready for battle. “You want to know what’s happening, Deputy Director? Your wife, your Annie, sells women to the highest bidder, to fucking perverts who probably can’t get it up unless they’re beating the shit out of the woman they’re fucking.”
As he talked he walked forward, approaching his boss with no thought of his career. “And now she’s kidnapped another woman, someone I know and—” He broke off. He’d almost said “cared about” but he wouldn’t give that information to Baulding, not without knowing if he could trust him.
“And that woman might already be dead because you were too busy screwing your secretary to realize your wife is a fucking psycho,” Hunt finished with a sound of disgust. “Or maybe you did realize it but just didn’t give a shit as long as she left you alone. So what is it, Director Baulding? Does your wife call the shots because she has the money in the family? Did her daddy pull strings to get you promoted to your position? Is that why you turn a blind eye?”
The room thick with tension, Baulding shortened the gap between him and Hunt. “I’m sorry. You must have forgotten who I am, Agent, so let me refresh your memory. I am the man so far above you I could piss on you without getting any blowback. So unless you want to spend the next ten or twenty years as a mall security guard, you’ll dial that temper down a notch.”
Red haze filtered over Hunt’s vision. The director had only thrown gasoline on a fire already out of control. “You gotta be kidding me. You’re going to pull rank when your wife is auctioning women? You knew your secretary didn’t just quit. Didn’t you just stand in that room and tell me that? You suspected her but I’m sure it was too much effort to actually do your fucking job and clear your conscience. No, it was easier to just keep your head buried underneath a new secretary’s skirt.”
Baulding lunged but Hunt was ready. He ducked back, rotated and slammed his boss face first into the wall. Twisting Baulding’s arm up behind his back, Hunt placed his mouth close to the man’s ear. “If anything happens to Carley because you were too much of a coward to find out what the hell your wife has been doing, you’ll never fuck another woman again because you’ll be too busy trying to cough your balls up.”
Struggling, Baulding cursed and called for assistance but no one moved. Or breathed. “I swear to God, Chandler, I’ll have your badge for this.”
Hunt pulled him away from the wall only to push him hard back into the plaster. “And I’ll gladly give it up just for the pleasure of kicking your ass.” He took hold of the man’s collar and pulled him away, practically throwing him across the room. “Now get the hell out of here. You can’t be a part of this investigation.”
Baulding straightened his shirt, his tie, his mouth working furiously. “This isn’t over, Chandler. You’re spending your last day as a federal agent.” He spun and stormed down the hall, pausing to add, “And each and every one of you agents that did nothing to assist me, you’ll all be on report tomorrow morning.”
Dave finally breathed a sigh of relief when the man was gone. “I just thought I knew you.” He clapped a hand on Hunt’s shoulder. “Turns out I like the agent a hell of a lot better than the cop. Now, let’s get busy. We need to find your woman and put another one away for a long time.”
Carley’s words had galvanized the women into action. She had more sharp objects being shoved at her than she needed. With a grim smile, she looked at the piece of metal Becca offered.
“You’re going to need something to stand on.”
“Me?” Becca’s voice squeaked.
“Well I’m not exactly in any position to pick the locks myself, am I? All you need to do is get the first cuff open. I can take care of the rest.”
The blonde held her hands against her chest. “I don’t think I can.”
“Yes, you can. I can talk you through it. Picking locks is a piece of cake. It’s the first thing you learn as a thief.” She offered the encouragement with a slight smile. “You won’t be the first person I’ve trained. Now please get something to stand on. I don’t know how much time we have.”
Two women scooted a plastic crate forward before ducking back into the darkness. Becca pushed the crate with her foot until it bumped the stone next to Carley’s leg.
Carley held her breath as the woman reached out to capture her right arm. She’d broken into more houses and buildings than she could count but she wasn’t sure she could really teach this woman the art of picking a lock, not with the way her hands shook like she was standing in a cold wind.
“Okay, there should be a small hole. It might look like a keyhole. I need you to put the end of the strip in that hole.”
As she wiggled the thin strip of metal in the lock, Becca began to chatter. “So how are we supposed to get out of here once you’re free?”
“I need you to focus on this first. Push the metal in gently until you hear a click.”
Becca grunted but did as instructed. Sighs of relief followed the audible click. “Now what?”
“Turn the strip to the right just a little.”
“We could all get killed,” Becca whispered.
“True, but if we stay here we’re definitely dead,” Carley reminded her. “Did you turn it?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, good. Now give it a bit more pressure.”
Becca leaned in closer. “I ain’t sure you want to be confronting Agnes.”
That made Carley tip her head up to see Becca’s face. What was it about the woman that made these women cower in fear? From what she’d seen Agnes appeared to be an ordinary woman. Yeah, a little sneaky, but not one that couldn’t be taken down. And if Carley got her way, in a most painful manner.
She couldn’t help but wonder though, why the women hadn’t banded together, tried to formulate their own plan of attack. Even in their present state they could have overpowered the one woman…maybe, anyway.
“If you ain’t scared, you ought to be,” came another voice from over Becca’s shoulder.
“Fear can be a powerful motivator, and I can handle Agnes.”
Becca snorted. “You’re standing here chained up like a junkyard dog and you’re saying you can handle her?”
Well put like that it wouldn’t instill confidence. Carley lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “She caught me off-guard. It won’t happen again.”
With a loud clink, the first cuff opened after the last word left her mouth. “Great job!” Feeling a bit more in control, she took the strip from Becca and went to work on freeing her left arm.
“Okay, ladies, it’s time to get ready. I need all of you to line up beside the stairs and stay quiet.” The second cuff popped open and Carley lowered her arms with another grateful sigh. Her shoulders ached and her wrists were chafed. But at least she was partially free.
“Becca, put the crate beneath my feet.” As soon as she felt the plastic t
ouch her skin, Carley leaned down and released the chains holding her ankles in place.
There were several mini-cheers when she finally jumped off the crate. Becca shushed the women with frantic waves of her hands. “We don’t know where Agnes is!”
“That’s okay.” Carley crossed the cold stone floor. “They’re going to need to make noise and a lot of it.” She stooped and peeked beneath the stairs. There wasn’t a lot of room but she could wiggle in.
“Noise?” Becca tapped her on the shoulder. “What are you talking about? We don’t want to bring anyone down here.”
Carley dusted her hands together as she straightened. “Actually, we do. We need the guard.”
The women gathered around, each beginning to pepper her with questions.
“We’ve never seen a guard. What makes you think there is one?”
“How can you be sure it won’t be Agnes?”
“What if she has a gun?”
She held up one hand to quiet them. “There is a guard because we already know Agnes doesn’t work alone. She killed Franklin, which means she had someone to take his place. But try not to panic. I can handle this.” Carley pinned her gaze on the woman who’d been concerned about the gun. “Even if he’s armed.”
Becca chewed her lower lip. “And if there’s more than one?”
Carley figured that would be one of the questions. “I can handle more than one too.”
The blonde assessed her. “You don’t look like you can.”
She didn’t take offense. “And Agnes doesn’t look like a woman who sells women, either.”
“You a cop?”
Carley rested one hand on the woman’s shoulder. “No, I’m way better than a cop.”
“What’s better than a cop?”
“Someone who doesn’t have to play by the rules.”
An FBI agent. A fucking FBI agent. Which meant her husband was now involved. So calling him would do no good. He would throw his hands up in the air and manage to eloquently extricate himself from their marriage and her life, leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that he was clueless about her activities.
InTooDeep Page 15