Holly Lin Box Set | Books 1-3

by Swartwood, Robert

  The man didn’t even look inside the wallet and instead tossed it to the other man. The other man opened the wallet and pulled out Erik’s DL. At first, Erik wasn’t sure what this man was doing before he saw the man hold his cell phone over the DL and snap a picture.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  The SEAL said, “Background check.”

  Erik started to sit up, but the SEAL stepped forward and aimed the gun at his face.

  “Let’s not do anything stupid, okay, chief?”

  Erik rested his head back on the carpet. Braced himself, took another deep breath. This wasn’t how he wanted to die. Not by the hands of these assholes.

  The SEAL said, “Well?”

  He wasn’t talking to Erik. The other man stepped forward and handed him the phone. The SEAL scanned the screen before he nodded and cut his gaze at Erik on the floor.

  “Erik Johnson. Was raised in foster care. Entered the Marines at eighteen, stayed for five years and was honorably discharged. Now works as a Colton County sheriff’s deputy in Bumfuck, Texas.”

  The man paused, and grinned down at Erik.

  “It doesn’t say Bumfuck, but let’s be honest here, this town is pretty shitty.”

  Erik said, “Who the hell are you?”

  The man ignored him.

  “Deputy Johnson, don’t you realize you’re trespassing?”

  “Fuck you. You’re trespassing.”

  The SEAL glanced again at the phone.

  “Nothing here about unoriginal comebacks, but not every background check is complete.”

  The SEAL handed the phone back to the other man, then crouched down beside Erik. He was close enough that if Erik tried anything the man could squeeze the trigger and place a bullet in Erik’s head before Erik moved a muscle.

  “What brings you here tonight, Deputy Johnson?”

  Erik felt his jaw tighten.

  “Fuck you.”

  “Didn’t you see the notice on the door? Law enforcement forbids anybody to enter, which includes neighbors. And don’t go telling me it’s because you’re law enforcement, too. I read that you were suspended today. What’s up with that?”

  A chill shot through Erik’s veins. He wasn’t surprised basic information was so easily accessible to these men, but how would they know about his suspension as it had happened just that afternoon?

  When Erik didn’t answer, the man said, “My associate and I don’t have all night.”

  Erik wet his lips again. For a moment he didn’t think he’d have a voice, but then he managed to speak.

  “I was here this morning.”

  “You were where?”

  “In this apartment.”

  “Why were you in this apartment?”

  “I was … in bed with her.”

  In the soft light, Erik thought he saw something pass across the man’s face.

  The man said, “Go on.”

  “There isn’t much else to say. The police raided the apartment. Took her into custody. Because I was here, they questioned me, too, and because of what she did, they suspended me.”

  Erik expected the man to ask more about what Jen or Holly or whatever her name was had done, but he didn’t. He glanced once at the thin man and then flicked his eyes back down at Erik.

  “Sucks to be you, doesn’t it?”

  Erik no longer had the sense that his life was in danger. Whatever these men were doing was shady, but he didn’t think they would kill him.

  “Can I sit up?”

  The man took a step back but kept the FNX-45 trained on him.

  “Be my guest.”

  Erik sat up, slowly, and shifted so that his back was against the wall. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, but he felt the need to keep talking.

  “Do you know her?”

  The man’s face remained expressionless.

  “Do I know who?”

  “Holly or whatever her name is. I saw her for a second this afternoon before the Marshals took her away. She told me her family is in danger.”

  Again, Erik thought he saw something pass across the man’s face.

  “She said the lawyer who came to see her today wasn’t even a real lawyer. And then it turned out—”

  Erik paused, realizing maybe his life was in danger after all, that these two men might have visited the real lawyer earlier in the day.

  The SEAL tilted his head.

  “And then it turned out what?”

  Erik wet his lips again.

  “Did you kill her?”

  “Did we kill who?”

  “The lawyer.”

  The SEAL traded a glance with the other man and frowned down at Erik.

  “Chief, I can’t speak for my associate over there, but I certainly didn’t kill anybody today. Care to start making some sense?”

  Erik had the feeling the man honestly didn’t know what he was talking about, and decided to push on.

  “It turns out the real lawyer was murdered this morning, and another woman had come to the station impersonating her.”

  The man glanced at his associate again, and there was something severe in the look, something that told Erik there was a lot more going on than he had first thought.

  The man said, “Any idea who this woman was who impersonated the lawyer?”

  “None.”

  “Did Holly tell you anything else?”

  The man said the name so easily, so naturally, Erik realized that was in fact her real name.

  “She gave me a phone number to call. She said it was to some dry cleaners only it wasn’t really to a dry cleaners. Said to call and leave a message saying that her family is in danger. I figured she was bullshitting me, so I—”

  He stopped when he noted the expression on the man’s face. This clearly meant something significant to him.

  “She wasn’t bullshitting me, was she?”

  The man said, “Who are you?”

  “What do you mean? You read my background.”

  “No, I mean what are you to her—a one-night stand or something more serious?”

  Erik thought about it for a moment.

  “Something more serious. Why?”

  “Because it’s clear she trusted you. She wouldn’t have given you the number otherwise. Are you positive she said her family is in danger?”

  “Yes.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No.”

  “All right. So what’s going to happen now is my associate and I are going to leave, and you’re going to stay here and act like we never had this conversation.”

  Erik started to stand up, saw the gun still aimed at him, and stayed where he was with his back against the wall.

  “Where are you going?”

  “That’s no concern of yours.”

  “If you’re”—he paused, not sure how to say the rest but then decided just to go with it—“if you’re going to try to save her family, I want to help.”

  “Fat chance, Romeo. You’re staying here.”

  “Please”—there was a hint of desperation in his voice, something he couldn’t hide—“I need to help.”

  The man studied his face.

  “Why?”

  “I just … I can’t sit by and do nothing.”

  The thin man tapped his foot on the floor, and when he had the SEAL’s attention, he tossed him the cell phone.

  The SEAL scanned the screen again, and shook his head.

  “No fucking way.”

  The thin man nodded, his expression serious.

  The SEAL said, “Fine, then I’ll call him and see what he says.”

  He held the phone to his ear and listened for a moment, then said, “No, I don’t think it’s a good idea,” and listened some more and then said, “We don’t know anything about him,” and listened some more before he finally said, “Okay, fine,” and then disconnected the call and tossed the phone back to the thin man.

  The SEAL leveled his gaze on Erik.

  “Yo
u want to help?”

  Erik nodded.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then you’re going to do everything I tell you to do.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “For starters, I need you to shut the fuck up and listen. You were suspended and are currently under investigation. Do you understand how it’s going to look if you all of a sudden disappear?”

  Erik nodded—it wouldn’t look good at all—and the man continued.

  “Holly’s family lives out near Washington, D.C. That’s where James and I are headed next. We didn’t manage to find any clues here about where Holly may have ended up. It’s like she disappeared into thin air. So the only lead we have—if you are to be believed—is that her family is in danger. There’s a private jet waiting for us at an airfield sixty miles away from here. If you want to go with us to D.C., you’re welcome, but again, you need to do everything I say. Got it?”

  Erik looked back and forth between the thin man and the SEAL, expecting this to be some cruel joke, like the man might put a bullet in his head anyway.

  “Yes.”

  “For the record, I think this a terrible idea. But Holly clearly trusted you, so you have that going for you. Plus, Holly’s family consists of her mother and her sister’s family. Which means if they are being watched, we could use as many eyes as possible. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  The man holstered the gun and held out his hand to help Erik up.

  “The name’s Nova. That’s James.”

  The man’s grip was strong. Erik got to his feet and nodded at the thin man named James before he turned his attention back to the man named Nova.

  “Her name’s Holly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Who is she?”

  “We can discuss that later.”

  Erik looked around the dark apartment, suddenly lost.

  “I get going to D.C. if that’s where her family is, but shouldn’t we be trying to find out what happened to her?”

  “Atticus is working on it right now.”

  “Who’s Atticus?”

  “That doesn’t matter. What matters is we need to leave.”

  Erik nodded, but still felt lost.

  “Holly must be in danger.”

  Nova said, “That’s right, she is. But she should be okay.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Trust me, chief. Holly knows how to take care of herself.”

  Twenty-Six

  A low, distant buzzing, like a pulsing swarm of bees.

  A quiet buzz buzz buzz that increases by the second.

  The bees are out there, somewhere in the darkness. Only—it isn’t darkness, is it?

  I open my eyes. Stare up at my bedroom ceiling. The buzzing is coming from my right, on the nightstand. The alarm clock.

  It’s only as I reach over to silence the clock that I remember the nightstand sits to the left of my bed, and I sit up suddenly, realizing this isn’t my bedroom at all.

  The room is tiny and bare, just the bed and the nightstand and a door and an open doorway. Through the open doorway is the bathroom. From where I’m sitting on the bed, I can see a toilet and sink.

  The alarm clock is still buzzing, the incessant noise having built a hive between my ears, and I reach over and smack it hard enough to crack the top, but at least it does the trick and the buzzing stops.

  I take another moment to scan the room, noting the chipped plaster on the walls and the small security camera in the corner of the ceiling right above the closed door. I stare at the camera for a couple seconds before I notice the tightness around my neck.

  I gently probe what’s around my neck—what I quickly realize is a leather collar.

  My hands scramble to find the clasp, but in my panic I can’t find it at first—it’s like the collar has been melded to my skin—and I start tugging at it, intent on ripping it apart.

  That’s when a bolt of electricity shoots through my body.

  I go still all at once, my muscles tightening, but my body continues to shake for the second or two it takes before the bolt of electricity stops, and then I sit there motionless, catching my breath, my thoughts momentarily scrambled.

  The door opens, and a tall man with a shaved head steps inside. He holds a Glock 17 in his right hand, a small black fob in his left.

  He says, “Don’t mess with your collar again. That was just a warning zap. An actual zap will knock your ass out.”

  Your collar. I don’t like the sound of that. It’s one thing to think it, but an entirely other thing to hear somebody else say it.

  “Where the fuck am I?”

  The man’s face remains expressionless, his eyes dark.

  “I wouldn’t worry about it. You won’t be here long.”

  “Where am I going?”

  “That’s something Mr. Hayward will explain.”

  “Who’s Mr. Hayward?”

  The man steps back, waiting for somebody else to enter the room. I expect it to be this elusive Mr. Hayward, so it’s a bit of a shock when a girl appears. She can’t be more than eight years old, small and petite with long black hair, and she keeps her eyes cast down as she approaches me, carrying clothing in her arms.

  Around her neck, too, is a collar.

  The girl comes to a stop beside the bed. She doesn’t look at me. I realize she’s waiting for me to take the clothes, and even though her eyes are focused on the floor, I can sense the anguish in her face, the hopelessness, and it both saddens and enrages me at the same time.

  I look past the girl at the man standing in the doorway, and all I want to do is spring up from the bed and charge at the man, strip him of his pistol and shoot him in the head. But I know that’s not possible, at least not right now—I’ll get another zap if I try to attack him, one which will put me down—so I’ll have to save that plan for later.

  I take the clothing—a bundle of pants, shirts, underwear and socks with a pair of brand-new sneakers on top—and smile at her.

  “Thank you.”

  The girl barely acknowledges me. She turns away and exits the room without a sound.

  The man clears his throat.

  “Mr. Hayward didn’t want us to change you while you were unconscious. Those will be your clothes for tonight. There isn’t a camera in the bathroom, so if you’d like to take a shower you can expect privacy, but the collar won’t come off, and if you do try to take it off, just remember that your family won’t appreciate your insubordination.”

  The man pauses, waiting to see if I have any reaction to him threatening my family. I stare back at him, giving him nothing.

  He says, “Any requests for dinner?”

  Because I can’t help but be a smart-ass, even at a time like this, I say the first thing that comes to mind.

  “I’ll have a rib eye steak and a lobster tail with garlic mashed potatoes and asparagus. Oh, and a big piece of chocolate cake with a glass of milk to wash it down. Fat-free milk, if you have it.”

  The man doesn’t blink.

  “I’ll run it by the kitchen. You have fifteen minutes before I return. Feel free to take a shower, but make it quick. If you aren’t ready in exactly fifteen minutes, the next zap you feel will be much worse. Do you understand?”

  I don’t answer.

  The man’s eyes harden, and his voice lowers.

  “I get that you think you’re tough. I respect that. You wouldn’t be here if Mr. Hayward didn’t think you were tough. But understand right now you have zero choice in the matter. You do what you’re told or you suffer the consequences, plain and simple. So I’ll ask it again, now that you have fourteen minutes until I return. Do you understand?”

  I swallow and nod, and speak in a quiet voice.

  “Yes.”

  The man points at the alarm clock on the nightstand.

  “The time is currently eleven twenty-seven. See you in thirteen minutes.”

  He closes the door, and I quickly stand with the clot
hes in my arms and hurry toward the bathroom.

  Twenty-Seven

  The man returns at exactly 11:40. He doesn’t knock. He simply opens the door.

  I’m sitting on the bed. I decided not to shower because I didn’t have the time. I’ve changed into the clothes—all of them my size—and as soon as the door opens I stand up.

  The man has the Glock holstered but keeps the black fob in his hand. This, I understand, is the trigger for my collar.

  He says, “Follow me.”

  I follow him out into the hallway. We pass a couple closed doors, and then we come to a door that leads outside.

  The sky is dark and clear, but the moon and stars are bright. Cicadas fill the night with their song.

  We leave one building and head to another. I quickly scan the area. It appears like we’re out in the middle of nowhere. Three large buildings are positioned in a U formation. A shed—much like the one in that oil field—sits off near the base of a hill. A few vehicles are parked around the buildings—mostly SUVs, a few pickup trucks. One green Jetta with a missing hubcap.

  I spot two men walking the perimeter, both with rifles slung over their shoulders.

  The man leads me to the middle building. While the other two buildings are two stories tall, this one is three stories. Looks to have maybe a dozen rooms. The man doesn’t seem to worry about me trailing him. I could rush him, grab the gun from its holster, but he knows I won’t. Not with the collar around my neck.

  Inside, I follow the man down a polished wooden floor to a large dining room. A middle-aged bald man with wire-frame glasses sits at the head of the table. As soon as we enter, he rises to his feet and does a half bow.

  “Welcome to Neverland, Ms. Lin. My name is Oliver Hayward. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Louis, please get Ms. Lin’s chair.”

  The man pulls out the chair at the other end of the table. I sit down on the chair, because I know that’s what’s expected of me, and Louis pushes me forward just a bit before he moves to stand with his back against the wall.

  Oliver Hayward places his elbows on the table, folds his hands, and studies me.

  “I understand Louis needed to zap you earlier. It’s unfortunate, but sometimes these things happen. I do hope the rest of the time you’re with us Louis won’t need to repeat that action. Of course, that all depends on your behavior moving forward.”