Cassie wasn’t sure about all the instructions, but she did what she was told and followed his example. When Jack locked the truck, the lights flashed, but only against her. In the black of the night, he led the way. Up against a hedge of bushes, he motioned for her to crouch low. Cassie recognized the barrier hedge as scotch broom from when they were kids, making camps and hiding in it. This hedge was sturdy and at least six feet tall, which was not unusual for an untamed batch of scotch broom. She poked Jack and pointed under the branches.
She crawled right behind him. Jack turned and motioned for her to stop. He’d reached a rotted fence. Using the binoculars, he inspected the area. He gave Cassie a thumb’s up. Carefully he pulled a plank away, which gave them a clear view of the back of the motel. Like Jack indicated, no one stood guard, which meant the tricks were not inside.
“Rub dirt on your face,” he whispered.
Cassie followed his example. Between the scotch broom and the trunks of a couple of fir trees, they were well hidden. Using a fallen fir branch, Jack camouflaged the camera even more. She positioned herself behind him with the binoculars.
Her pulse quickened, and she sucked in her breath. Jack glanced at her. She motioned with her fingers; someone was coming. Anger turned to rage watching an identical scenario take place. She didn’t know why or how this young girl came to be in this situation, but she knew a victim when she saw one. More than anything, she wanted to beat the crap out of that guard standing there.
Photographs could identify, but a study of a person also revealed details. Cassie refocused on the guard and watched. When the trick was done, the young woman exited the room pulling her coat around her, but not before her breasts were revealed. The guard grabbed her arm and said something to her. She gripped the collar of his jacket, yanked at it, spitting out words Cassie did not understand. In her high stiletto heels, she hugged her coat and headed back to the massage parlor building. When the guard adjusted his jacket, he revealed the identical tattoo Cassie had seen earlier on the man at South Jackson Street. She didn’t dare move and hoped Jack had gotten a photograph. The customer emerged from the room and started yelling at the guard, who promptly screamed back. Unfamiliar languages filled the night air.
Jack motioned at her with his smart phone. At first, she wasn’t sure what he wanted, but then it hit her. Record the conversation, which she could in camera mode. The yelling of the two men ended with the customer marching off. The guard slammed the motel door and headed back to the parlor.
Jack scooted back next to her. “Let’s get out of here.”
She followed behind him. When they reached the edge of the scotch broom, Jack searched the area.
“Clear.”
He grabbed her hand and they sprinted to the truck. Just like before, they blocked the headlights when he unlocked it. Not until he was two blocks away did he turn on the lights.
“Are you okay?”
She shrugged. “Those girls couldn’t have been eighteen. That was more than prostitution by their choice.”
“I agree. My guess is sex trafficking.”
“I wanted to beat those men to a pulp.” Tears formed and she blinked fast.
“If it makes you feel any better, so do I.”
“That guard had a tattoo.”
“I saw that.”
The night’s events silenced her. Nothing more was said until Jack parked in his condo spot and came around to her door.
“I’m still practicing.” He held out his hand. His sweet gesture with his dirt-smeared face and muddy jacket offset her anger. Silently, they walked to the elevator.
Following his routine, Jack unlocked his condo door, stepped in, and listened. Like always, he’d left a light on. He stepped aside for Cassie to enter and locked up.
“I’d like a drink. Would you? I’ve got Irish whiskey, scotch, beer, and wine.”
“I like scotch.” Cassie looked down at the dirty sweatshirt and her jeans and grimaced. “I’m going to change.” She stopped at the washer, stripped off Jack’s sweatshirt, and dropped it in before heading into the bedroom.
Not a bad idea, he thought. Jack did the same with his jacket. When he entered his bedroom, he heard the shower running. Cassie’s jeans were on the floor outside the door. Not sure where the night was headed, Jack changed into gym shorts and pulled on sweats for extra protection. He picked up their dirty jeans, tossed them in the washer, and started it. More than anything, he wanted to download all the photos and get them shipped off to his work, but Cassie had brought up a good point: when did he turn it off?
Jack turned on the gas fireplace, poured a scotch, and downed it. Up until now, Cassie Ryan had been a black and white decision. Now, the gray area had muted it all. Had his cell phone not rang a second time, he was pretty sure that dress would be laying on the floor with her not in it.
In three days, the F word and various forms of it had become his favorite adjective, as in this was a disaster waiting to happen. She drove him nuts, he was forty-two years old, and he was hot for her. Jack was on the edge ready to fall. And there was that word again being muttered watching her walk down the hallway in his flannel shirt, barefoot, and face scrubbed. What was it about her? He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. For the first time in their lives, no one was around to stop them. They were consenting adults, but still…
He poured another scotch for himself. Jack held up the bottle for her to see and asked, “How do you like your scotch?”
“On the rocks would be nice.”
He joined her with the drinks and motioned to the leather sofa. Jack slipped his arm around her, and she snuggled in next to him. In a comfortable silence, they sipped their drinks and watched the fire dance.
“You’re quiet,” he said, squeezing her shoulders.
“I can’t stop thinking about those girls. Sex and greed. How you stay calm is beyond me. I wanted those men dead for what they were doing to those girls. They have no dreams, they’re gone. Just like mine. Men can be such pigs.”
“Not all men,” he protested. “Not all men are pigs.”
Cassie pulled away and looked him straight in the eye. “Please, please tell me you never ever acted like a pig.”
“Well, Cass, somebody might have thought that. I mean, come on, I’m a guy.”
Cassie jumped up, glaring. “So you admit it. You’ve acted like a pig!”
“Hey, I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” Cassie scowled at Jack with her hands on her hips. “God, I can’t believe it.” She set her empty glass on the coffee table and marched out.
If the conversation hadn’t turned so ridiculous, he would have laughed. Somebody was feeling sorry for themselves.
“Well, buddy,” he said quietly, glancing down at his cock, “I guess we don’t have to worry about tonight.”
Jack finished his drink, grabbed his camera equipment, and headed to the office.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Shouting Russian words, he slapped her hard across her face, sending her sprawling against their dresser. This time, she was ready. Hidden under her scarf was a butcher knife so sharp it could cut tissue paper. Arrogantly, he stood sneering, screaming names no one should ever hear. Never again would she allow anyone to steal her dreams. Gripping the knife, she turned, and with all her force, she plunged into his chest and pulled the knife down to his balls. White powder poured out.
“You are no longer the House of Dong.”
His meaty hand grabbed her around the throat, squeezing until she could no longer breathe.
Cassie woke gasping for air, her heart racing. She pushed herself up in the bed, trying to catch her breath. It had been a dream, but so real. Taking several breaths, she blew them out slowly, trying to calm down.
The other side of the bed was empty, though it had been
slept in. Where was Jack? Russian filtered into the room with Jack repeating the words. It had been a dream, but she had heard Russian. He seemed very determined and convinced they could pull off the charade. From the sounds of his pronunciation, Jack was better at languages than he claimed.
Thinking about last night, she owed Jack an apology. She’d been tired and upset, but still that was no excuse to call him a pig. When she found her jeans clean and folded on the bathroom counter, it made her feel even worse.
Dressed for work, Jack sat at the kitchen counter looking at his iPad.
“Good morning,” she said.
He answered her in Russian. She smiled. He didn’t sound too bad. Pointing to the coffee, he said words she didn’t recognize. Cassie refilled his cup first, and then poured a cup for herself. She slid onto the stool next to him and listened while he repeated the lessons.
When he finished she said, “I think someone is a lot better at languages than they claim. Also, I’m sorry for calling you a pig. You didn’t deserve it.”
“Apology accepted.” Jack closed the tablet and entered the kitchen galley and stood across from her. “Are you hungry?”
“I am. Something smells good.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
His mouth twitched, and his eyes glittered with humor, like he had some big secret. Jack purposely blocked her view. When he finished, he held two plates up above her vision, walked around to where they sat, and very ceremoniously placed her plate in front of her, and then set his down.
“May I present your breakfast? Pigs in a blanket, piggy sausages, and please eat some crow.”
She recognized everything but the crow—a scoop of dark brown goo with some lighter brown mixed in. Laughing she said, “I suppose I deserve this.” She pointed to the brown goo. “Is it edible?”
Jack scooped up his small mound and popped it in his mouth. “I guess so.”
Cassie took a fingertip and dipped it, and then smelled it. Nutella and peanut butter. “I swear you’re going to die of cardiac failure.”
Before he could answer, a text dinged through, and then another. “It seems one of the languages you recorded last night was Laotian. Do you think that’s what you heard yesterday on South Jackson? It fits the territory.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“I need to get going. It’s already nine. What are you going to do today?”
“Everything I didn’t get done yesterday.” Not wanting to elaborate, Cassie deliberately stuffed a sausage in her mouth. Jack looked at her a little longer than she liked, so she stuffed another one in. “I’m really hungry.”
After what seemed like an eternity, he headed down the hall. Cassie let out her breath.
“So,” he called, “you’re still set with the key, credit card, and everything.” He now stood in front of her with his things. “I’ll be back no later than six. Heather will meet us at the office at eight-thirty to wire us up.”
Cassie continued to nod her head and walked him to the door.
“Lock up behind me,” he reminded her.
She gave him the thumbs up. “Got it.”
Jack stopped, tipped her chin up, and stared deep into her soul. What she saw in his eyes made her stomach flutter. “I’m not a pig, but…I am a guy.” Gathering her in his arms, he kissed her long and hard. When he finished he said, “I’m not going to apologize for it either.” He left and shut the door firmly.
Heat poured through her, and her legs wobbled. Cassie leaned against the door for support. When her heart stopped pounding and she caught her breath, only one word came to mind. “Wow.”
Unable to think of anything but the kiss, Cassie cleaned up the kitchen and headed to Jack’s closet to pick out his clothes for the night. She stood in the corner looking at the assortment of suits and shirts. An odd feeling overwhelmed her. A chill settled in the small room, and she shivered. Jack’s scent was strong, but then it should be because she stood in his closet. A cool breeze touched her cheeks, and she smelled her mother’s perfume.
“Mom?” she whispered.
Her mother’s scent was so fragrant it tickled her nose. It felt like she stood next to her. She heard, “You must trust and be truthful, Cassandra Marie, and he will open his heart.”
If her legs had wobbled before, they now shook. Cassie leaned against the closet wall, trying to make sense of it all. She called for her mother again, but it was gone. More than anything, she wished she could talk to Alexa.
Without thinking about where she was driving, Alexa pulled into the drop-off lane of her daughters’ school. When the school attendant opened the door, she realized her mistake. Alexa had been asked to be the Chairman for the third grade play and needed to pick up information.
“Go ahead girls. Get on out with Miss Mary.”
She didn’t want to mess up the drop-off lane. Alexa proceeded out and swung back around, but this time, she entered the correct parking area. Instead of the five minutes like she planned, Alexa spent an additional fifteen minutes of socializing. Now she was slightly behind schedule for the refresher self-defense course that Eduardo insisted she take. She strolled across the drop-off lane to the parking lot. A man exited his BMW and blocked the entrance to her vehicle.
“Where’s your fucking bitch friend?” Bitch sounded like beach.
Not intimidated, Alexa took her time answering and stared him up and down. “I don’t know, and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you anyway. Now get away from my car.”
“You American bitches are all alike.”
“What do you want, Koslov?”
“I want my money back. That bitch is going to pay when I get done with her.” The blockish built Russian stood there with his legs apart, hands on his hips, sneering. “You rich bitches all stick together.”
Fury exploded inside of her. Alexa took two steps forward and kneed him in his balls. He gasped and swore even more, slightly bent forward. “That one was for Cassie. Now I told you once, and I’ll tell you again, but next time I won’t be so nice. Get away from my car.”
“Bitch. You fuckin’ think that’s going to scare me?”
This time Alexa wasn’t so nice. Fast and furious, she reached down, grabbed his balls, and twisted. Sergei screamed in pain. “Don’t let this Beverly Hills façade fool you. I grew up on a ranch in Eastern Oregon, and I was slicing off calf balls before you knew what to do with yours. If you ever come near me or my daughters again, you will regret it. Now get away from my car. If I see you anywhere in my vicinity, I will call the police.”
It took all of her control to stay calm and watch him leave. Trembling, she climbed in her car. Earlier, she’d thought the refresher course was silly. Now she didn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Without even thinking why, Jack Wyatt exited the Alaskan Way viaduct and headed up South Jackson Street. It seemed his Tahoe read his mind. He made a U-turn in front of the lab and parked. He owed it to himself and Cassie to make sure he was a clean machine. After the way she kissed him back, he didn’t know how much longer he could hold off from having sex with her. If that’s what she called pig behavior, then he guessed he was a pig.
Just like the lab advertised, he was in and out in fifteen minutes, but he paid extra for fast results, like that afternoon. For a moment, Jack sat in his truck and watched the nearby café, trying to decide what to do. He doubted anyone would talk to him, but it was worth a try. He prepped his phone for video record and positioned it in his pocket. Jack grabbed his iPad and headed toward the café. A woman exited with a broom and started sweeping by the door. He opened the tablet and asked if she spoke English. Like he expected, she didn’t or wouldn’t, but he kept showing her the picture of the tattoo. He had no idea what language she spoke, but it was loud and her broom kept hitting him in the legs. Message received, language
recorded, that was the best he was going to get.
Taking a break from the afternoon meetings, Jack sat on the edge of his desk and stared at the whiteboard where he’d diagrammed all the tattoo sightings. At the moment, he was waiting to hear back from his Canadian counterpart. He’d drawn a big question mark and then Victoria next to it. To him it was a missing puzzle piece along with Rob Armstrong. More and more, it looked like a sex-trafficking ring coming out of Canada, with Armstrong leading the operation. The recorded languages had come back Laotian and Thai. It was not unusual for people to escape Laos, crossing the border into Thailand. They’d seen cases where the daughters were forced into prostitution to pay off debts. At this point, any one of the Asian gangs could prey on them.
“Hey, boss.”
“Well, hey, Heather. What’s all that?” He gestured toward the two large shopping bags she held.
“I got a little carried away on what we needed for tonight. I thought your friend could pick and choose a few things. You know, get into the whole Russian thing. I think she can pull it off.”
“She’ll appreciate that. You’re going to be in the van with the guys, aren’t you?”
“Are you kidding?” She laughed. “No way would I miss you speaking Russian.” Grinning, she quickly deposited the bags next to his desk. More than halfway out, she yelled back, “By the way, I really liked your friend. She makes you smile.”
He decided to call Cassie and see what she was up to. Surprised, she answered on the second ring. “Are you home at the condo? I need you to do me a favor.”
“I just walked in the door. I’m putting dinner away. Oh, Jack, the most horrible thing happened this morning after you left for work. It was just awful.”
His body tensed. Damn it, he knew something was up when she was so evasive.
Before he could ask, she continued. “I went to put my jeans on, the ones you washed, and I couldn’t zip them up. I’ve put on weight. We can’t keep eating the way we have. Please, please tell me you dried those on high.”
Deep Into The Night (Hartz Island Series) Page 16