by Stone, Mary
The universe was smiling down on her, and now that she’d stepped into her role as leader, her plans were starting to fall into place. Such a powerful feeling.
Her phone vibrated, the caller ID showing a familiar number. “Hello?”
“Mistress?”
Katarina sighed, rolling her eyes. “Who else would it be?”
“It’s Eden. I have gifts.”
Katarina giggled, her excitement rising. “How many?”
“Four. Three female and one very handsome male.” The caller laughed, a seductive tone slipping into her voice. “I thought about keeping him for myself.”
“I can’t wait to see him.” Katarina practically shivered with glee as she hugged her knees to her chest, phone tucked under her chin. “What about the rest of your team?”
“Still working the streets. They’ll find something. They always do.”
“Excellent. Keep this up and you’ll see a promotion in your future.”
After a long pause, Eden cleared her throat. “I’m just in it for the money.”
Katarina scowled, unhappy with Eden’s apparent lack of ambition. “I’ll make it worth your while. You’ll receive a text tonight with instructions on where to meet and what time. If your team comes through before then, send me an update on the body count so I have the right equipment.”
“Of course, mistress. Anything else?”
“Yes. Please feed them. I’m not running a bed-and-breakfast here.” She laughed, disconnecting the call.
Scribbling in the journal, she added four little stick figures to her chart. Three with dresses and one with pants, a friend for the lonely male stickman. She had five packages now. It wasn’t a strong showing, but there was still time.
She would pad the listings with “future offerings.”
Use stock photos to entice more clients.
They never noticed when the stock photos were replaced with entirely different people by the time the next auction came up.
When it came to the human trade, a person bought what was available.
17
The warm sun kissed my arms as I walked along the path, my steps slow and measured. The ground gave me a boost with each step, paved as it was with the compressed orange foam typical of cross-country tracks. This path was sun-bleached, so faded it nearly matched the sand that surrounded it.
My vision was still slightly impaired by my swollen, puffy eyelids. As I ambled down the path, the beach breeze caressed my skin as I gazed at the ocean-blue meeting sky, the backdrop to my Costa Rican paradise resort.
The swelling in my face had finally gone down enough for me to feel confident leaving my cane behind. I didn’t need it, and every day I felt better than the last. I’d been walking for exercise daily for over a week now, but today was a special day. Today was the day my bandages were to be removed, and I would see if Dr. Juan Sandoval had worked his magic on my battered face.
If my facial muscles weren’t still so weak after the excessive plastic surgery I’d lately endured, I would’ve cringed at the memory. That bitch of a redhead had attacked me so violently I’d fled with one side of my face structure half crushed, my skin lacerated by my very own surgical tools and stainless steel platter.
I stopped on the path to take a slow, deep breath. Anger wasn’t good for healing, Dr. Juan had informed me. And I needed to heal.
The night my empire had crumbled beneath my very fingers, my nose broken and blood pouring down my face, I’d stumbled out of the warehouse, my too short life flashing before my eyes. Calling Katarina had been my only hope.
Like an angel, she’d appeared and whisked me away to safety. Had she been a minute later, I might have been caught by the police, who we passed on the road, right behind the ambulances. But Katarina was always in the right place at the right time. Friday, April thirteenth had been no different.
She’d fussed over me as she drove, attempting to keep me from bleeding to death, though I’d known the lacerated tissue must have been gruesome. To her credit, Katarina had taken my appearance in stride, getting me to a physician I knew fast, and probably saving my life.
Once it became clear that I would resemble a freak for the rest of my life without extensive surgeries, and knowing I was being hunted, I spent most of the car ride to a private jet hangar fading in and out of consciousness. The next thing I remembered, Katarina was gone, and I was landing on the private grass airstrip at the back of Dr. Sandoval’s sprawling Costa Rican property.
But that was then, and this was now. And now, I had new things to focus on.
A medical assistant strolled up beside me, holding out his arm for me to take, should I have the need. His deep bronze skin and luscious black curls reminded me so much of Gabe.
Like every guest at the Sandoval Recovery Ranch, I was assigned an assistant who shadowed me around the clock. Without labor laws to get in the way, I was able to enjoy the comfort of a familiar touch while I recovered. Eduardo went where I went, ate when I ate, and when I slept, he hovered nearby, able to respond to the softest whimper should I need him. Eduardo was the best and had been assigned to me by Dr. Sandoval himself with only one stipulation.
“You may not kill this one,” he’d insisted with a gentle smile, only half joking about the incident with the syringe.
And because I needed Dr. Sandoval’s magic touch to heal my face and make me whole again, Eduardo was safe.
I swatted at his hand. “I don’t need help. I can walk just fine.”
“Of course you can, sir.” Somehow, Eduardo managed to say the words without sounding patronizing, one of his many redeeming qualities.
I was tempted to buy him from Dr. Sandoval, but I’d learned my lesson with Gabe. Assistants weren’t to be trusted, no matter how much they owed you.
The bandages were tight on my still tender skin as my forehead muscles attempted to form a frown. Of all those who’d betrayed me, Gabe’s treachery stung the worst. I’d been forced to admit to myself that I had some level of affinity for Gabe, not that I would go so far as to call it love. The emotion was something less profound. As long as I’d known him, the desire to kill him had been easily sated by a lookalike replacement. Sparing Gabe’s life had been my first mistake.
It was a mistake I wouldn’t make again.
With a growing list of enemies noted safely in my head, I made the final round on the path and allowed Eduardo to open the resort door for me. He bowed low, grateful to be of service. Eduardo’s attitude was a refreshing change of pace from the life I’d left behind in the US.
Excitement and trepidation wrestled in my stomach; it was time for the unveiling of Dr. Sandoval’s work of art. Or at least what I hoped would turn out to be a work of art, and my greatest blessing. One I would use to begin again, and tie up a few old threads. Before I burned them to ashes.
The doctor’s office was done in muted tones, featuring chaise lounges for those patients who weren’t feeling up to par. An attendant was stationed in the waiting room, whose main job was to fetch any item a patient requested on a whim. I wasn’t surprised Dr. Sandoval had gone to such great lengths to offer every possible comfort for his clients. A man like Dr. Sandoval funded his extravagant life by catering to the ultra-wealthy.
Dr. Sandoval stood as I entered his examination room, greeting me as he always did with his movie star handsome smile and a half bow. Boisterous and friendly, it was impossible not to like him.
“Eduardo. I see you’re alive, again.” Dr. Sandoval possessed a wicked sense of humor that had delighted me on several occasions.
“Yes, sir.”
Sandoval smiled, shooing the attendant away to wait outside the door. Privacy was highly regarded here too. “How are you feeling?”
“Better than I have been.”
“Any side effects from the pain medication?”
I sat on the platform bed that rose steadily, powered by a quiet electric motor. “A bit of nausea at times. Nothing too bad.”
“That’s go
od to hear. You seem to be progressing faster than expected.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing your handiwork.”
Sandoval’s smile faded ever so slightly but didn’t completely go away; I suspected he dipped into more than just the Botox. “Remember, the tissue of your face will still be swollen, so what we see today will not be the end result. But my work is guaranteed. Your own mother will not recognize you.”
My mother.
Rage sang its siren song at the mere mention of the woman who’d brought me into the world. But I couldn’t go down that road. Not yet.
“What about the new fingerprints?”
He clicked his tongue. “That will take a little bit more time, but as soon as I have a template, you will have your new prints.”
I wasn’t as patient as the good doctor, but I wasn’t in the mood to criticize his efforts. “Good man. How much longer until my face will be completely healed?”
Dr. Sandoval held up a pair of bandage scissors. “Let’s have a look, shall we? I’ll be able to give you a more accurate assessment once I see how much you’ve progressed so far. The daily oxygen bed treatments should have speeded up your recovery.”
Dr. Sandoval’s concentration went to his task as he snipped tiny pieces of the bandages off, a little at a time. A few stuck to my wounds for a moment, but Sandoval had undressed hundreds of surgery cases, and had a gentle touch. Only one piece stung when it was pulled away, and even that was more discomfort than anything.
The sensation of having the bandages removed after wearing them for so long was nothing like I’d expected. At first, I wondered if he had another layer to remove; my face didn’t feel like my face, but like there was another layer of something between me and the world.
But the doctor said, “Ah, very nice,” and gestured to the mirror, standing back as I took my time moving to stand in front of it.
Mirror, mirror…
Afraid to look but unable to contain my curiosity, I peered into the looking glass. Shock ran through me at the face that stared back. I didn’t recognize myself, and gazed at my reflection, trying to adjust to this new reality. I felt like the annoying cat videos that everyone thought were so funny, when a cat attacked the enemy cat in the mirror, never recognizing himself. I must be careful to get to know the new me.
I wasn’t sure who that was, though, with my skin so pink and puffy, scattered yellow bruises in several areas. “It’s hard to tell if I look any different with all this swelling.” I wanted to frown, but my muscles didn’t cooperate. “When will I be able to smile fully?” My cheeks were still fairly swollen, which stopped my smile abruptly, giving me an almost silly look.
Sandoval shook his head. “Your body has to learn how to control your new face as the swelling goes down. It will take some time, but Eduardo will help you. Before you know it, your face muscles will respond as if you were born with higher cheekbones and a Costa Rican nose. There’s also the Botox, which will limit some movement. You’ll just have to follow Eduardo’s instructions to the letter.”
I leaned closer to the mirror for a better look. “I don’t believe I see a wrinkle. How old do you think I will be able to pass for?”
“Early to mid-thirties perhaps.”
The corners of my lips twitched. “With a face so young I’ll need to have other places rejuvenated as well.”
“As soon as you are healed enough, Eduardo will bring you for a full body refresh, particularly for your hands. Hands take the bulk of life’s abuse. Your results won’t be as astounding as a full facial but should work well.”
I laughed. “Full facial” was rarely used in the context Sandoval meant it, but I found the concept endlessly amusing. A “full facial” was one of the many secret procedures Sandoval was known for. Destitute families were so strapped for cash they would sell their soon-to-be-deceased loved one’s body. For the transaction, they were given the ashes in a nice urn and a year’s salary in return for the harvested organs. A total of six thousand dollars was all it took to supply the resort’s patients with new organs, skin grafts, or in my case, the upcoming fingerprints that would enable me to move undetected in the states.
A healthy young donor could bring upwards of ten times the money Sandoval paid the family—even more when the “body” was still alive when the donor was taken. The good doctor had it all down to a science, and for a small fee, the local authorities happily looked the other way.
I couldn’t help but be envious of him, and a little disappointed that I hadn’t had time to take advantage of that depth of makeover. But the recovery time was close to a year, and I had little ones calling my name.
Sandoval led me back to the platform bed and applied his special ointment to my skin. His touch was soothing, and I was soon completely relaxed, my eyelids drooping. I might still look like Frankenstein, but I had complete faith in Sandoval. When I emerged from his resort, I would be a new man.
If I wasn’t, I would simply kill him.
When he finished dressing my wounds, he called Eduardo, handing him a jar of the liquid he’d carefully slathered over every inch of my face. “Eduardo will apply this three times a day, but if your skin feels dry, have him apply more often. I’ll check on you in a few days and see how you’re doing.”
I shook the doctor’s hand, this time taking Eduardo’s arm when he offered. The walk to the office and all the excitement had wiped me out, leaving my legs quivering with every step.
Eduardo rushed to open the door to my private hut, using his foot to hold it open so he could catch me if need be. He was the perfect servant, and I once again found myself fantasizing about kidnapping him right out from under Dr. Sandoval’s nose. This time when I smiled, my face cooperated enough that Eduardo noticed.
“Sir, you smiled almost all the way. Very good.”
Though his words were meant to be encouraging, they only reminded me of how far I had to go before I could extract my revenge. Exhaustion and rage threatened to swamp me. On top of that, my stomach grumbled. “Eduardo, I’m hungry.”
He hurried away without another word, scurrying around the kitchenette, preparing a meal for both of us. I didn’t need to know what he was making, because every dish he’d prepared had been utter perfection.
I sat on the sofa and took out my phone, perusing the first-class fares from Costa Rica to the United States. Dallas sounded good, or even Denver. I just needed a place to establish myself while I figured out my next move. Then I would get ahold of my contacts and see about locating Gabe.
Truly, I wanted to save him for last, but his meddling had cost me Ellie Kline again. The only way I could ensure he didn’t tip my puppet off was to take him out first. A waste of a gorgeous life, but Gabe had made his choice. I’d given him everything, and he’d spit on my generosity.
“Sir, you cannot let yourself get worked up.” Eduardo’s singsong warning snapped me out of my reverie.
I blinked, remembering I was on the couch, a man dressed in nothing but cutoff jeans cooking my meal. His golden skin glowed, muscles rippling as he manned the kitchen. Sighing, I turned back to my plans, toying with the idea of buying a house before I left Costa Rica. Hotels asked too many questions and a house would have the garage I needed.
Considering the positives of buying a house to lay low in, I knew I had to follow through. I typed in the URL of one of the offshore banks where I had stashed my fortune, deciding to transfer a large sum into the account of my alias. Giddy with excitement, though my face remained passive, I logged into the account, and almost dropped my phone.
The account, which had held more than five million dollars when I’d fled to Costa Rica, now registered nothing but zeros. It was empty.
Completely empty.
At the top of the transaction page was a single withdrawal for every last penny that had been in the account the last time I used it.
Rage consumed me with wildfire-like speed. I wondered briefly if the FBI had managed to find my secret account, but that wasn’t
likely. I already had a suspect in mind. If I was right, and I could prove it, she was going to pay.
Terrified I would find my other accounts in much the same empty state, I logged into every one. A huge sigh of relief escaped my body when I found them exactly as I’d left them. My fortune was not lost, but I wasn’t going to let the theft of five million dollars go.
At my most vulnerable, someone had taken what was mine, likely blowing the money on frivolous things. I had no way of knowing for certain who had done it, but I sensed to my very core who had stolen the cash. The betrayal cut deep. I wasn’t going to just let that go.
Katarina had some explaining to do, and then she would pay for double-crossing me.
No one took from me and lived, unless I allowed them to.
18
Fortis stuck his head out of his office, motioning to Ellie.
She closed the case file in front of her and grabbed a notepad. By the time she took a seat in his office, his mouse was already clicking as he scrolled to something on the computer screen.
“What are you working on right now, Kline?”
Her stomach dropped at the loaded question, and one she didn’t usually have the right answer for when it came to Fortis. “Agent Lockwood is tied up at his office, so I’m waiting for call backs on the names we found in the semi.”
“Call backs?” He paused his scrolling to arch an eyebrow at her. “From families?”
“No. I’m trying to match Jane Does with similar victims, but it’s a long process. One that apparently even the Entity program isn’t on par for. I think I found some bugs in the process.” She grimaced, remembering how she and Jillian had used the software to solve cases in the past. The old adage was true, if something seemed too good to be true, it probably was. “Quite a few of the smaller police departments are still running off old systems, so the process is taking a little longer than I anticipated.”