Flesh Market

by Kate Lowell

  Six o’clock that evening, two trucks backed into the loading bay and unloaded their cargo. Nine steel crates. Nine more victims of the trafficking ring.

  They went straight to the medical suite, where Kittridge turned a hose on them, and Maciel passed out soap and shampoo. Leo and DeGraff lounged in the doorway, watching the boys and girls clean themselves up.

  “There’s a party at La Buena Suerte tonight, invitation only,” DeGraff said, answering Leo’s unspoken question. “All the new ones go to these parties, plus the best from the different outlets. We set up in one of the big suites so we can keep track of everything. They pay to get in, but it’s extra to use any of the bedrooms. Some of them never make it there; some never come out. All in all, it makes for a nice chunk of change, and there’s always the possibility of some direct sales. I’m thinking about setting up a permanent processing center, but that takes a bit more design planning and a lot more money to set it up to be safe. Be nice not to be moving around all the time.”

  Leo only had a moment to fool himself into thinking Julian would escape this time. DeGraff tapped Leo’s arm with the back of his hand. “I’m going to send your boy too, so you should go get him. Time to test-drive that baby off-road.”

  Shit. Leo nodded and strode up the hallway to the cell where Julian was still locked up with the new victim. When he opened the door, Julian pushed the young man behind him, then relaxed when he saw it was Leo.

  “Is something happening?” Careful phrasing. He watched tensely as Leo nodded and crooked a finger at him. Julian glanced at the young man behind him and murmured, “Don’t give them any trouble, okay? Keep your head down, and do what you’re told.” He looked sick when he turned back to Leo and followed him out of the room. Leo led him to his bedroom, closed the door behind them, and raised a finger to his lips. Julian nodded and waited with ill-concealed patience.

  Leo pulled out his phone and dumped it in the cardboard box in his dresser. “You’re being sent to a private party tonight.”

  “Fuck me.”

  “I hope not.” Leo went to the bathroom and twisted open the shaving-cream can. Mauer’s phone fell out into his hand, and he flipped it open and turned it on.

  No bars.

  “What the hell?” He walked back out to the bedroom, watching the screen as he moved it around inside the space.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “No signal.” He went back to the dresser and pulled out the other phone. No bars there either, but wireless was engaged. Only then did he realize that he’d never made a call inside the warehouse. Why would it even occur to him that cell signals were blocked inside the processing center? He put the phone away and went to sit next to Julian. “They’ve got a jammer on the building. I’ll have to make the call from outside.”

  “Then I guess we play this out until we get someplace you can make the call. Will Carragher be at the party?”

  “Don’t know.”

  Julian frowned and swung his feet onto the floor. “If he isn’t…”

  “I can’t let you—”

  “My body, Leo. If we don’t get Carragher or your database, this has all been for nothing and they just keep doing—” He stood up. “I may have an idea anyway, to keep myself out of the party. Worth a shot. But for now, we’d better go.”

  “I can’t protect you if we go to that party.”

  Julian poked Leo in the chest hard enough to make him take a step back. “I know I don’t have the experience you have, but have I screwed up that bad that you think I can’t handle myself?”

  “No, you haven’t, but you’ll really be on your own there.”

  Julian crossed his arms over his chest, his expression mutinous. “Harrow thinks I can do it.” He set his jaw, and his eyes dared Leo to tell him no.

  Leo felt a disconcerting stab of sympathy for DeGraff and his issues with Julian.

  Lost Opportunity

  They got there just in time to see DeGraff check his watch and yell, “Time!” The young men and women finished a last rinse, and Kittridge turned the water off. Maciel handed out towels, and while they dried themselves, DeGraff sorted clothing for them.

  There was money here. The clothing was top-of-the-line, designer, and obviously chosen with each victim’s coloring and figure in mind. Julian was glorious in amber and black, a fine trace of eyeliner to take his eyes from gorgeous to spectacular. The victims lined up quietly to be taken out through the loading dock and packed into three luxurious sedans for the ride to the party.

  Julian was last, dragging his feet, pulling back when Maciel grabbed his arm to hurry him along. Leo watched, alert for clues to what Julian planned. The younger agent had just shaken his head when Leo had tried to interrogate him on it.

  At the door, Julian lagged harder, forcing Maciel to drag him up to the opening. Maciel stepped through ahead of him, and Julian put a foot against the frame and threw himself backward. It pulled Maciel back through the opening and launched the two of them into Leo, bringing up the rear. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs, and Leo got an elbow in the gut from someone before he managed to wiggle out from the mess.

  Maciel pinned Julian’s legs, slowly crawling up his body to immobilize him. Leo grabbed for Julian’s arms, let him get a punch in against Leo’s jaw, then threw himself over Julian’s face to protect him from DeGraff, who stormed back through the door in the wake of the disturbance.

  “What the hell is going on here?”

  Maciel spit blood onto the floor. “Fucker threw a fit. Popped me one in the face.” He shifted, and Julian yelled and squirmed beneath them.

  “Get him up.” DeGraff’s voice snapped like a whip, and they all jumped, even Maciel and Leo.

  Maciel let go, and Leo pulled Julian to his feet, then grabbed him by the throat and shoved him up against the wall, careful not to cut off his air.

  DeGraff blocked Julian in from the other direction. “Now what was that about, boy? I thought we’d come to an understanding.”

  “It hurts. I can’t do it. I won’t.” Julian’s hands flailed briefly, then fell to his sides in apparent defeat when DeGraff shook his head at him.

  “Doesn’t matter if it hurts—you have a job to do. I don’t like to set the precedent that this sort of behavior gets you out of work.” DeGraff rubbed his jaw and considered Julian. “We’ll give you some Tylenol on the way, but you just have to work through it until it doesn’t hurt anymore.” He frowned and thought for another moment, then turned to Maciel. “Go get the doc. We’ll pull a pint from him before we go, settle him down some.” He grabbed a handful of Julian’s hair and shook his head gently. “You keep that in mind, boy. Bloodfarm’s a lot less fun, and the table even less. Here, you get to go to parties, eat nice food, get presents, and you get to come when you’re good. Bloodfarm…well, you get fed, I guess. Good thing you’re pretty, but if you force me to mess your face up, you won’t be so much anymore—and that new blond is going to give you a run for your money, even looking like you do now. Consider that too.”

  Leo watched the color drain from Julian’s face. Julian licked his lips and nodded, then looked at Leo. Leo could see the shock on his face, though he hoped he was the only one who understood the real reason for it. He squeezed Julian’s arm and said, “You do what he says, and you’ll be fine.” They both knew it wasn’t true. The four new victims in the cells hung over Leo’s shoulder like ghosts.

  DeGraff stepped back. “Take him to the doc’s room. Get him the pills. We’re going to be late. I hate being late.”

  “Sure, boss.” As he led Julian back up the hall, he bent his head and whispered in his ear, “You going to be okay?”

  Julian nodded and whispered back, “We tried. It didn’t work. I’m fine. Whatever happens, happens.” He raised his face to Leo’s, his expression meek and anxious, his eyes burning with rage. “Don’t blow this to protect me.”

  Leo examined him closely for several seconds, then said a silent prayer that nothing more would go wro
ng. They turned in to the doctor’s room. The doctor wobbled against the operating table, obviously drunk, with Maciel monitoring him closely. He was hooking an empty blood bag up to a clear plastic tube. Beside the table a sturdy wooden chair waited for Julian.

  “Let’s get this over with.” Maciel set the chair out and beckoned for Leo to bring Julian over. Leo pushed gently against Julian’s back, trying his best to give the other agent some hope, and guided him into the chair. Julian was still pale, and his arm shook as Maciel rolled up the sleeve to expose the elbow.

  The doc turned from the table and dropped the bag on the floor. He grunted and stooped to pick it up, nearly falling over in the process. Maciel laughed, but Leo didn’t find it the least bit funny. The man didn’t look like he could put his pants on without help at the moment.

  With a foul glare for Maciel, the doc wobbled to his feet with the end of the plastic tube in his hand and came to stand beside the chair. “Hold him still.” He waited until Maciel trapped Julian’s wrist and shoulder against the chair, then approached with a needle in his hand. It only took two tries, which both surprised and impressed Leo. The man either had an incredible tolerance for alcohol—not likely—or he had once been a hell of a doctor. As soon as the blood was flowing smoothly, Maciel brought three thick white pills and a bottle of water over. His lip was swollen, and blood still stained the corner of his mouth. He made Julian eat the pills off his palm and drink from a bottle he held.

  Ten minutes later, they had a bag of blood to put in the freezer, and Julian’s face was even paler. He took a deep breath as Leo helped him to his feet, and leaned heavily on Leo’s arm. His steps were tentative at first but gradually grew more confident as they approached the door. Once they were through and out of earshot of Maciel and the doctor, he patted Leo’s forearm. “I’m okay. Feeling a little weird, that’s all,” he whispered. He shook his arm free and took a few experimental steps on his own, then nodded slightly.

  Leo steered Julian toward the door and the cars that would be taking them to the hotel. His own nerves got the better of him, and he let one hand rest on the back of Julian’s neck, seeking both to give and receive comfort in the action. Julian slowed his pace a fraction so he pushed back against Leo, then stepped out again as if nothing had happened.

  Good man. Leo would work with him again, given the chance. But this situation was shit.

  They bundled them into the cars by threes, putting the kids in the backseats, while their handlers sat in the front. At the last minute, DeGraff sent one of the other kids—Lucas, of Julian’s video debut—back into the building, so everything was even. “Maciel can bring him in when he’s cleaned up.”

  Just before they were to get into the cars, DeGraff looked at Leo as if seeing him for the first time. “Damn, I near forgot.”

  “Forgot what?”

  “That jacket. You look like a goon. Come on.” He led Leo back into the building and into his bedroom. “Put this on. It should fit.” It was a sports coat in a gray two shades darker than the dress pants that had magically appeared in Leo’s room this morning.

  “I’m fine with this one.”

  “This is a party. I can’t have you there looking like you’re ready to snap someone’s neck if they say the wrong thing.” He grabbed the neck of Leo’s jacket and tugged it efficiently off, then handed him the sports coat.

  “Can I at least get my phone?” He didn’t care about the jacket, but he needed Mauer’s phone.

  “Leave it. I want you watching the customers tonight, not the odds.” DeGraff tossed Leo’s jacket back on the bed. “Let’s go. Fuck, I may have to give refunds, at the rate we’re moving. I hate it when the customers get there before we do. Doesn’t look professional.”

  It was harder to leave that jacket behind than it had been to hand over his gun.

  Leo made sure he was in Julian’s car, though he didn’t expect anything to happen on the way over. It was just caution. Leo sat crooked in the seat so he could keep an eye on everyone, while the driver coolly negotiated the route between the warehouse and the hotel. The doors were all locked to prevent any impulsive escape attempts, and the AC blasted arctic air at the victims so they wouldn’t arrive sweaty and used-looking before their customers had the chance to perform the honors. He made a note to find out where they were getting the drivers—they weren’t faces he knew, and it seemed out of character.

  The cars drove under the portico at the hotel and stopped. Leo and DeGraff got out first, then waved off the valets and opened the rear doors to let the kids out. They filed quietly into the lobby and waited in a clump with Leo and Kittridge while DeGraff gathered keys from the front desk. Leo was sure some money also changed hands, though he missed the actual exchange. But their little group couldn’t be taken for anything but what they were, so there had to be some bribes involved. Prostitution wasn’t legal here, but it could certainly be winked at under the right circumstances. There was nothing to say that these kids weren’t here of their own choice, and little enough difference between fifteen and eighteen on the surface. All the same, he watched the desk from the corner of his eye, trying to memorize the faces. If—when—they brought this case to an end, he intended to add the front desk of this hotel to his list of suspects.

  The subtle gleam of crystal chandelier on brass and marble added a sense of unreality to the scene. As they filed into the elevator, Leo’s heart sped up. Game on now.

  Sample

  Their suite was massive, taking up almost a third of the top floor of the hotel. It held six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, a media room, and a kitchen. The huge living room and dining room stretched around the corner, providing an amazing view of the city. DeGraff scattered the victims around the room, seven girls and two boys, displayed like living art between the paintings and floral arrangements.

  DeGraff called Leo over to the bar afterward. “Have a drink if you want, but stay sober. Since you don’t know the customers, you can work the door. They’ll each have a code to let them in.” He handed Leo a printed list with about a dozen lines on it. “They know the drill. Try not to scare them away.” He fished in his pocket and pulled out a small pale blue bottle. “If your boy looks too nervous going with one of them, give him this. A couple good sniffs and it’ll ease the way. We don’t like giving the impression that the kids are junkies, but if the blood donation doesn’t work, this is an option.”

  Leo looked at the bottle. “Drugs?”

  “Just poppers. Makes you feel warm, relaxes all your muscles. Surprised you haven’t heard about it. Thought it was popular in the gay crews.”

  “Not my circle. And you’re forgetting I was married.”

  “Yeah, we all have lies we tell ourselves.” He took Leo’s hand and put the bottle in it. “Don’t use it unless you really think it’s necessary.”

  Leo nodded and glanced over at Julian. The young man was watching the two of them, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled by a frown. Leo looked back to DeGraff. “I’ll do my best.” He pocketed the bottle.

  DeGraff checked his watch. “The customers could start arriving anytime now.” He walked into the middle of the living room. “Bathroom time for anyone who needs it. If you even think you might need to go, go now.” The victims started to move, drifting toward various doors. It struck Leo that this was nothing new to them, and he added another log to the fire burning inside him.

  Thirty-five minutes later, a good half dozen men had arrived. Well-fed men wearing everything from business suits to tourist garb admired the scenery. Leo had already answered questions about the victims, mostly about their ages and how long they’d been working. DeGraff had given him a rundown on the kids and told him to shave a year off each of them. “The psychology of sales. They think they’re getting something they can’t get anywhere else.”

  Leo positioned himself near the door of the living room and took up a typical bodyguard’s stance. So far things were slow, men chatting over drinks while they casually made free with various
parts of the victims. Leo’s right hand curled into a fist as he watched Julian get pulled into the lap of a man old enough to be his father. Julian played his part perfectly, and if he felt any distaste at all, no one would know it from the nervous smile on his face and how he shifted in the man’s lap to make it easier for the asshole to stroke him. Leo should have taken Julian and run when he lost the phone. The one in the suite was no more than ten feet away, taunting him with his impotence.

  A sharp knock on the door shocked him back to reality. Leo tucked his emotions away and focused on the task at hand. Right now he was muscle, and his “product” was doing exactly what it was supposed to. Up to a certain point, it was safer to play along.

  He felt the absence of his gun like an ulcer.

  Leo opened the door to find an older man shadowed by a teenager of his own. Two heavily built men stood against the wall, bulges under their arms where their holsters lay. The man at the door presented an ID code that matched Leo’s list and walked into the room like he owned it. Leo stared at the teenager as he followed him in. Julian was beautiful and vibrant, and he gathered more than his share of glances wherever he went.

  This boy was…Julian squared. Ice-blond, with eyes so pale a gray they looked like pearls. Broad-shouldered and slender, with long, graceful limbs and a face that came straight out of old Irish fairy tales. He followed quietly behind the customer as the man greeted the other attendees and settled into a nearby armchair like he was taking the throne. The blond went to the bar and expertly mixed a drink before returning to hand it to the man. The customer sampled the drink and nodded his approval, and the young man moved to kneel obediently beside him.

  Despite doing everything he could not to be noticed, the young man stood out among DeGraff’s victims like a torch in a room full of matches.