“Marisol and her sister, Ana, disappeared two years ago from Monterrey, Mexico, where they had gone to get jobs,” Lucy said. “Marisol speaks three languages and was earning money to help rebuild their village after a flood and mudslide killed their parents and destroyed the village. A photojournalist with ties to the girls has been looking for them, and when the baby showed up at the church with a personalized locket, the priest contacted her. She brought us in.” Lucy leaned forward. “This cannot go any further than this, but we believe that Marisol’s sister is pregnant and in danger. Marisol most likely left here to rescue her sister.”
“She kept talking about Ana, how she was sick and in trouble.”
“We believe that the same people who have Ana killed another woman.” Lucy didn’t mention that Eloise’s baby was stolen. There was no reason to give these people more nightmares.
“Tell me what to do,” George said. “Tell me how to help.”
“Call your service provider,” Adam said, “then I’ll talk to them.”
Lucy felt physically ill. She stepped outside and sat on a bench and put her head between her knees.
Nate followed her and closed the door behind him. “Lucy-what’s going on? Are you okay?”
She was so tired of being coddled. Of being asked if she was okay. She was fine. She had just browbeat a dying woman into telling her what she needed to know, then dumped sorrow into what had been a happy house. George and Nadia shouldn’t have to know these things. But evil… it seemed to find Lucy. She drew it to her, like a spider’s web.
Worse, she saw the evil. Dissected it. Understood it.
“Angelo,” she said through clenched teeth. “He’s one of them.”
“What do you mean? One of who? The traffickers?”
Lucy hardened her heart, cleared her expression. Reminded herself that this was her job. Even if it wasn’t, she would be forever drawn to the evil that people did to one another.
She looked up and faced Nate. “Angelo’s father told Siobhan that he was at work on Thursday, but left before work on Friday,” Lucy said in a calm, even voice. She didn’t recognize it was hers. “Angelo told his mother he was leaving town for a few days because a friend needed his help. Marisol called him on Tuesday. Four days later. He told her he would come immediately, but he was already here. She thought she could trust him… she thought he was the only one she could trust. But I’ll bet my badge that he’s the one who sold those two girls to the traffickers in the first place.”
Marisol could barely walk. He’d hit her so hard she lost consciousness… And when she woke up, she didn’t know where she was.
Angelo…
She’d loved him. They were going to have a baby. And then…
It was him. All along, it was him…
It was so dark. So cold. So quiet.
The closet door opened. The mean one, the one she called Doberman because he was mean like the big, hungry dogs that had guarded her and Ana and the others at one of the warehouses they’d been locked in, grabbed her. He yanked her up and scowled. Growled. He growled like a mean dog.
“Get up, you stupid bitch. You cost us a small fortune. You’re already a dead woman, but first you’re going to fix all of the problems you caused, then you’ll die. And you’ll die knowing that I will personally make your sister suffer as soon as she delivers those babies. And she’ll know it’s because of you that she will scream for us to put her out of her misery.”
He pulled her out of the filthy house and into an attached garage. The trunk popped open and he pushed her inside and shut the trunk. It hit her in the head and she winced. She was left in darkness. And silence.
Then the ignition turned on and the car burst out of the garage. He slammed on the brakes and her body slammed against the back of the trunk. Metal scraped her, cut her arms, and she felt blood. Then he shifted into drive and pushed the accelerator so her body rolled the other way.
And then they were driving, fast. Away from the girls. Away from Ana.
I’m so sorry, Ana. I thought Angelo was the only one I could trust. I was wrong, and now we’re going to die.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
It was dusk when Kane drove off in the jeep. Sean hated this plan, because it meant trusting Gabriella Romero, whom he didn’t know and had no reason to trust. Hell, even Kane said he didn’t trust her… yet their entire plan hinged on her.
Minutes after Kane left, Sean heard gunfire coming from down the road.
No no no!
Sean jumped on the motorcycle he’d stolen earlier, one gun strapped on his back and a handgun within reach. He kept his body low as he sped over the rocky dirt path that led to the main road. He was winding around, he couldn’t see far ahead in the twilight, but he heard several trucks and more gunfire. He was forced to slow down when the narrow road made a sharp curve to the right, then another to the left.
As soon as the dirt road widened, he saw Kane’s jeep. Several trucks were leaving, but Kane was nowhere to be seen.
Sean couldn’t risk shooting at the trucks, not knowing if Kane was inside.
“Dammit!”
How did they know where they were? Someone… Gabriella. She betrayed Kane. Which put not only Kane in danger, but Jesse.
Suddenly two men burst out of the bushes, guns on Sean.
“Two for one,” one of the guys said in Spanish.
Sean didn’t hesitate: He took his bike from idle to as fast as it would go toward Kane’s jeep, using the vehicle to shield him. They were firing indiscriminately, didn’t come close to hitting him. As soon as he was protected by the metal, Sean jumped off the bike and fired at the two men. They returned fire, hitting the jeep. If they hit Sean it would be from luck, because they didn’t know what they were doing. Sean focused, aimed, took one then the other down.
He looked down the road. He’d seen the last truck turn right. He assumed going to the Flores compound, but he didn’t know. Damn, damn, damn!
“Dammit Kane, what went wrong?” Sean was not going to lose his brother. It wasn’t an option. He grabbed his satchel, slung it over his shoulders, and left the marginal safety of the jeep to search the two men he’d taken out. A radio, maybe-anything.
The first guy was dead, and Sean retrieved a handgun and grabbed his AK-47 and slung it over his shoulder. He didn’t have a radio, but Sean found a cell phone in his pocket. He avoided looking at the man’s face. He was young. Too young to be in the middle of this war.
Maybe it wasn’t Gabriella. Kane shouldn’t be here at all. Sean should have taken this job on his own. Jesse was his son, his responsibility. There was a bounty on Kane’s head; anyone could have spotted him. At the football game last night. When he went to town to meet with Gabriella. Or Dante Romero turned on him.
The bastard. Sean would kill him if anything happened to Kane.
Sean turned to the second guy and stared at a gun in his face.
Blood poured from the guy’s leg and arm, but he was close enough to kill Sean. He spoke rapidly in Spanish and Sean didn’t know what he was saying.
Suddenly the guy’s head caved in from the side and he fell over, dead.
Sean whirled around, gun in hand, heart racing. Then he heard a whistle. Kane’s whistle. He lowered his gun just slightly, and Jack Kincaid jumped out of a tree, landing on both feet. Another man came from the opposite direction. JT Caruso. Jack and JT, the other principals of RCK. Sean almost thought he was injured himself and this was all an illusion.
Jack, Lucy’s brother, was a lot like Kane in the way he moved and operated. JT, though he, too, had been in the military years ago, rarely worked in the field anymore. He was the face of RCK, looked more like Rick Stockton or a wealthy businessman. Except now, when he was dressed all in black with a Kevlar vest.