Ghosts (6 page)

“How soon can you be here?”

***

Vance nearly drove himself crazy in the silence of the car, watching the quiet building and waiting for his colleagues to arrive. Rick was one of the first friends Vance had made when he’d started fighting on the right side of the war. Rick had been an undercover operative working on a sting in Bulgaria at the time. Vance was a freelancer, taking it upon himself to put together a network of connections to rescue human trafficking victims. Chance put them on the same case at the same time, and it hadn’t taken long for the pair to become friends. Maybe it was because Rick was good at making friends with pretty much anybody. Maybe it was because Rick had been the first to admit to him that many in their circle had taken to calling Vance “Batman” behind his back.

Vance hadn’t met Rick’s wife until she stumbled into his life, determined to figure out what her new husband was up to. Most women would annul a marriage if they found out their groom was really a spy. Not Veronica Sinclair. She’d insisted on joining him. He admired Ronnie almost as much as he did Jessie. The woman had been a bungling princess the first time he’d met her. Now, he was pretty sure she could take him in a fight. He respected that kind of spunk.

He saw the shadowy figure moving on the roof about half a minute before his phone rang. The sun was sinking in the sky, making him wonder if his eyes were playing tricks on him until the phone vibrated on the seat next to him.

“That’s you on the roof, isn’t it?”

“Hello to you, too,” Rick teased once more. “We’re here.”

“That was fast.”

“My wife is good at pulling strings.”

“What does your vantage point tell you?” Vance asked.

“Not much more than yours, unfortunately. It’s definitely a storage facility. Every view in is blocked. How do you want to play this?”

Vance hesitated. If he called it wrong, whoever was holding them would kill the girls rather than run the risk of their showing up in a courtroom someday.

“It’s not like Batman to question himself,” Rick taunted softly.

“Don’t call me that.”

“You know I’m the one who gave you that name, right?”

Vance growled. “You son of a…”

Rick cut him off with his soft laughter. “Careful there, big guy. We regret the things we say in anger.”

Vance could hear Ronnie in the background, telling her husband to quit harassing him.

“That’s right. Quit harassing me.”

“Quit stalling and call the damn play.” Rick’s voice was steel that time.

“You start at the top; I’ll start at the bottom. We’ll sweep inward, meet in the middle.”

“Gotcha. We’ll give you two minutes to get into place.”

“Right.” Vance hung up the phone. He’d be irritated with Rick later. Now he had to load his gun and go save the girl—and pray he wasn’t wrong.

It only took him a minute and forty-five seconds to get into position. He took another deep breath before sliding in the back door. There was no alarm and no lookout, further evidence that Da Beast was still small-time. He ensured the ground level was empty before finding a narrow staircase that led into a dark, dingy basement. A small light beckoned from the far corner. Vance padded toward it, only to find an empty cot with a gray, blood-stained mattress. Blood splattered the walls on either side of the bed. Vance didn’t want to know what had happened there. In fact, he wished he could scrub his brain and be rid of everything he’d seen or heard in the past twelve or so years. Other than the mattress, the basement turned up nothing, so he crept back up the stairs.

The second floor was where he reached his first locked door. Rick and Veronica had reached the floor just before him, starting at the far end and working their way in. When the door to the storage closet refused to budge, they made their way to him. Rick nodded toward Ronnie, indicating she’d pick the lock. Vance started to argue that he’d been picking locks since he was a kid, only to realize that was kind of a petty response given the situation, so he stood aside. He was surprised when Ronnie had the door opened before he’d even fully gotten out of her way.

The smell is what got him first; it rolled out of the room like an animal bursting out of its cage. The stench of death hung in the air along with sickness, sweat, and urine. Vance was suddenly glad he’d given his lunch to Maria. Now he had nothing to lose as his stomach protested the assault.

Vance cautiously waded into the room, inching forward as he slid his night vision goggles down over his face and gave himself a moment to orient once they were in place. There were two bodies piled in a heap in the center of the room. Vance knelt beside them, rolling the first body off the second. The smell slammed over him anew. He knew without checking that the girl on the floor was gone, but he checked just to be sure.

The girl in his arms groaned; he responded by gathering her more securely in his arms and taking her out of the room of death. Ronnie swiped his goggles off his head before he stepped back into the half-light of the main room.

“They must have left them both for dead.” Vance gently laid the girl on the ground and began assessing her wounds. “Unless they’re planning on torching the building, someone will be back to clean up the mess soon.”

“I’m calling my brother,” Ronnie announced. “Rick, can you call an ambulance?” She turned to Vance. “How’s the girl?”

“Not good.” Vance was grim. “Her pulse is weak.”

“Is it the one you were looking for?” She glanced over at them as she put the phone to her ear.

“It’s hard to say. Could be, but her face is pretty bruised and swollen.”

“Poor thing,” Ronnie murmured before returning her attention to the phone call. Her brother was Vance’s contact at the FBI, and she wasn’t above using a little nepotism to soften the fallout when she cut corners on a rescue.

Vance could hear Jeff’s vocal protest, making it obvious he didn’t care for her willingness to cut corners. “Damn it, Ron. We’re not rent-a-cops. You have to tell us these things before you go in. We can’t prosecute if it’s not done right.”

Ronnie’s fierce scowl was wasted on the telephone. “There’s no one to prosecute—just a girl who would have been dead had we waited. But you might want to send somebody by before the traffickers send a cleanup crew for the dead body we found with her.”

Brother and sister continued their heated debate, but Vance’s attention was on the girl. Silently, he prayed they’d found her in time, whoever she was.

VANCE WAS SURROUNDED
by the steady beeps and hums of hospital machinery. The last time he had been surrounded by those sounds, he’d lost Harmony forever. Now her presence seemed to be there, just on the edge of his peripheral vision. He’d swear she was there, only for her to dance away when he’d turn his head.

Now he sat, his gaze fixed on the unconscious girl they’d rescued from the old shoe factory. They’d confirmed her identity: He’d found Nicole, or what was left of her. Over the years, he’d come to be amazed by the resilience of the girls who’d been rescued from trafficking. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to survive some of the things they did.

He also knew her recovery would be a long, hard process—one she wouldn’t be able to do at home. The kind of recovery this girl had ahead of her would require specialized care. There weren’t many places in the States set up to handle all the aspects of care a trafficking victim required. He had connections at all of them, but there wouldn’t be much they could do if they were already filled to the brim. Sometimes Jessie helped them at her transition house for foster children, but even she was past capacity. There was only one place he could think of that might be able to help, but he dreaded calling them.

Rick joined him in Nicole’s room and sat in a chair on the other side of the bed, his eyes meeting Vance’s across the girl. “She’s lucky you came looking for her.”

“Thanks for helping me get her back, man.”

“Any time. I still owe you for all the times you saved my wife—and me, for that matter.”

Vance shrugged uncomfortably.

“Are you going to try to get her into Harmony House?” Rick asked gently.

“I can’t think of where else to go with her.”

“You haven’t been there yet, have you?”

Vance shook his head. Neena and Rachel, the shelter’s owners, had invited him to see Harmony’s legacy. He hadn’t been able to force himself to make the trip yet. “Maybe it’s time I go.”

Rick nodded, his eyes drifting back to the girl on the bed. “Are we going to go after the guys who did this to her?”

Vance set his jaw. “As soon as she’s taken care of.”

“I figured as much. Veronica and I will start building the file while you tend to her. We’ll be ready when you are.”

Vance was grateful for people like Rick and Veronica Sinclair in his life. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to muddle through without them. And that’s exactly what he was doing at the moment—muddling through, putting one foot in front of the other to do what had to be done.

He knew he’d put off calling the Barnetts for too long, so when Rick left him alone, he did just that. He told the nurse where to find him if Nicole woke up while he was away, then stepped into a waiting room to make his call. On the off chance that she was aware of what was going on around her, Vance didn’t want to upset her with his conversation.

Henry answered on the second ring, anxiety lacing his voice. In all the years Vance had known him, he’d never seen Henry cry. But as the older man choked on his words, Vance knew the news he delivered had brought Henry to tears. “We’re coming to see her.”

“Only if you can get Allie to watch the kids,” Vance cautioned. “I don’t think her brother and sister should see her like this.”

“They’ll want to see her.”

“Not now.” Vance held his ground. “She needs time.”

“Right, right. We’ll bring her home soon enough, I guess.”

“Henry—” Vance hesitated. “She can’t go home.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s not safe, and she’s been through too much,” Vance tried to explain.

“What do you mean it isn’t safe?”

“The men who took her are still out there. I’m going after them once she’s settled, but until they’re captured, she’ll be in danger of retaliation.”

Henry’s voice rose a notch. “Retaliation for what?”

“For living. They’ll hunt her down and kill her—and anyone who matters to her—as a warning to the other girls.”

“I’ll keep her safe,” Henry argued.

“Henry, you’ve got to trust me on this. They won’t hesitate to blow up your house with you in it. They don’t fight fair. Besides, she’s been through a trauma you can’t begin to fathom. Her body has been pumped full of narcotics, and she’s been brutalized in ways beyond imagination. That takes a trained team of professionals, and the right environment, to overcome. She can’t get the care she needs at home.”

“So we’ve lost her.” Henry’s grief nearly overwhelmed Vance. “What about her sister and brother?”

“She’s not lost forever. They’ll be reunited, just not right away. How we handle the next few weeks will determine Nicole’s ability to recover. It’s crucial we do what’s best for her right now.”

Henry’s chuckle was rueful. “You definitely aren’t the same kid who left here all those years ago.”

Vance had to agree with that one, although sometimes he wished he could rewind and be that kid again. Innocence, once lost, was gone forever. He kind of missed his.

As difficult as the conversation with Henry had been, his next call was even harder.

“Vance Davis, it’s good to hear your voice again.” Rachel greeted him.

Hearing her voice was like a punch in the gut. Instantly he was transported back to Atlanta, to a time when a group of young couples sat around a trendy cafe eating tapas, drinking wine, and laughing despite the evil looming large in their world.

“Have I chased you away already, Vance? Are you still there?”

“Yes, I mean no. Sorry. Talking to you just took me back there for a minute.”

“I’m so sorry. I’d do anything to change how it all turned out. The world is so much darker without Harmony in it.”

Vance’s throat tightened painfully at Rachel’s simple statement. That was it exactly: The world was much darker without Harmony’s lovely light.

“Are you doing okay?” Her voice was a gentle caress.

“I think I’ll get there.” Vance took a deep breath, realizing he meant it. He was still in the worst of it, but he had begun to hope that he’d be okay again someday. “Rachel, I know you guys are probably full, but is there any way you could fit in one more? She’s special. Kind of like a little sister.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.”

“I don’t, technically, but she’s a foster child to the family who raised me.”

“Ah, well, you know we’d do anything for you. We’ll find a spot, my dear.”

“Thank you.” He meant it, too, from the bottom of his heart. He felt better knowing Nicole would be well cared for.

“When can we expect her?”

Vance frowned to himself, wondering how long it would be before they released her. “She’s still in critical condition. I’ll try to find out more from the doctors.”

“No worries. Just keep us posted.”

“Will do.”

Vance rested his head against his phone and closed his eyes. For a moment, he allowed the memory of Atlanta to wash over him. Her laughter had been so melodious, her determination relentless.

“Mr. Davis?” A nurse tentatively interrupted his reverie. “She’s beginning to rouse.”

He looked up, blinking to beat back the tears. “Good. Good. That’s good news. Thanks.”

He followed her, returning to the room just in time to see the girl jolt awake, sheer terror in her eyes. He covered the distance between them in two quick strides, holding a hand out as if to calm a wild animal. “Shhh…shhh. You’re safe now. I’m Vance. The Barnetts sent me to find you. You’re safe.”

She froze, confusion written in her eyes. “Vance? The Barnetts’ son?”

For the second time that day, Vance was punched in the gut by words. Had the Barnetts really considered him their son? He set aside his emotions. “Yes. I’m the Barnetts’ son. So we’re almost brother and sister. You’re safe now, I promise you. Those people will never touch you again.”