Hell on the Heart (12 page)

“You’re okay,” the gentle voice whispered. “You’re safe. Come back to me.”

Cezi cracked open an eye. She huddled on the hard floor, encased in John’s arms as he knelt next to her, crooning calming words and caressing her back with his tender fingers. Photographs scattered around them showed only smiling faces.

It was one thing to be rescued from an asthma attack, but a psychotic breakdown was something else entirely. Her mother’s prophesy had clearly not mentioned lunacy.

“I’m okay.” She pressed against him to free herself. “This is so embarrassing.”

He eased away, but placed his hands at her waist to help her to her feet. Then rose himself.

“Why? Because the victims got to you? It happens.” He clasped her chin, tilting it upward until she looked him in the eyes. “Justice is the only thing that will bring peace.”

“Do you hear their calls for help?”

“No, but the faces haunt me. Knowing that even if everyone of these girls were rescued and brought home tomorrow, each would struggle for years to be whole again and a lot won’t make it. The best I can hope for is to keep it from happening to even one more woman.”

“They’ve taken so many.”

“But with your help, we’ve got a true lead that we haven’t had before.”

Her help? What had she really done? But with John peering at her she gave her best shot at a positive response. “We know the type he chooses.”

“We know more than his type.” He returned to the printer. She glanced at her reflection in the glass wall. His type. It wasn’t the dark eyes that stared back at her. So what had Cain seen in her?

“Not exactly his poster child, are you?” John spoke the question on her mind. “Most went with him willing. As far as I know only you fought him. More importantly you won.”

She perked a little, but reminded him, “The beast had already chosen Ellie. She fit the profile.”

Through the reflective glass she saw his eyes narrow as he came to stand behind her.

“Even blonde and blue-eyed, you wouldn’t have been his type. Your sharp little chin shows a determination none of those other women had. You do have an air of innocence, but your eyes convey a shrewd, assessing look that would hard to interpret as anything other than a person with a quick, agile mind.”

Really? She peered again at the image in the glass. As far as she knew only her father and uncle believed she was smart. To her aunts she was an embarrassment and to her cousins she was a kid sister without enough sense to come in out the rain. Even to those who loved her, the asthma crippled her. But John hadn’t found her disabled. No, he thought she was a determined woman with a sharp, quick mind.

All those missing girls, all those worried families. And for what? What did Cain get out of it?

“I have a job for you,” John said as he pulled up the program Ciggy had sent him. “See if you can determine a pattern in the way Cain chooses locations.” She leaned over his shoulder and looked at the monitor while he explained the data. “Just see if you can make heads or tails of their selection process.”

She understood human trafficking. If the girls had been killed at least some of the bodies would have been found. Much as she hated to admit it, Cezi worried she’d been the chief cause of Ellie’s death. If she hadn’t interfered the men might have taken her and left. Although maybe not, Cain had said the girl was worthless to them.

Where did he take them? Driving a limo. Nobody could cover the area they did in as short a time period as they operated and the guys on bikes had only been ten minutes away.

Flying was the fastest transportation. But if they had an airplane would it be big enough for the limo? Military had that type of aircraft. Was it available to civilians? Where would a plane like that land?

What was she thinking? Private airstrips were everywhere. Farmers needed them for crop dusters. Executives needed locations near their offices. Even a wide deserted road would work. Television reported news stories all the time about pilots who avoided accidents by landing on public roads.

They would need detailed maps and permission to fly by FAA. Bingo. They could trace a plane based upon the flight records. But even if that proved impossible, where did they land near Armadillo Creek?

Cain’s attention flickered from the computer monitor where he entered personal data he’d obtained from rifling through Brianna’s purse, to the wall monitor where in her drugged stupor she unknowingly entertained various members of the all-male staff.

Cain shook his head unable to loose his ennui. Maybe he needed some time off. Armadillo Creek had undermined him. Eli’s trial run had been a disaster. Not only had they discarded the blonde, but the brunette had been taken from them.

The one thing he couldn’t afford was to be identified even in a small town. His face on a law enforcement website would ruin him and the entire operation. Daily he scanned the Internet looking for news stories about the Armadillo Creek incident. He hadn’t slept well since Friday night.

Adam hooted. “Look at that.” Cain glanced up from the computer screen. Adam pointed to the wall monitor. “Turn up the volume.”

Cain did. The earthy sounds of rutting filled the room. Adam absently stroked the front of his slacks. “She was a sweet little piece. Maybe I’ll visit her again on my way upstairs. You do have a gift for picking them.”

Inwardly, Cain groaned, knowing what was coming next. He didn’t mind the work, but he didn’t want to get caught. Spending his twilight years in prison held no appeal.

“Dammit. Every time we do children, every Federal alphabet agency gets involved. It increases our exposure too much.” Cain kept his voice low and calm, raising Adam’s ire was not worth the argument. He was a spiteful son-of-a-bitch.

When Adam retired, Herod had the chops to fill his position. It took men with a certain moral ambiguity to be able to do the job. Herod had that in spades. For several years, Cain believed he had it, too. Now, the three million sitting in his bank account in the Caymans called his name. Absently, he rubbed the tattoo behind his ear.

Get out now while you can. But he’d sworn he wouldn’t quit until he had five million. At this rate, he only had to work another two or three years.

Half-a-million dollars. Unable to help himself, Cain rubbed his hands together. He’d have to be extra careful. “Have you picked the boy yet?”

“I think so. Our buyer wants a blue-eyed male, athletic, under twelve. I found a kid on My Space in Chicago with a single working mother. According to his blog, he skates every afternoon at a public skating park. Pretty good, too. You won’t have any trouble finding him.”

“When?”

“Wednesday. Our guy’s hot for fresh flesh.”

Cain grimaced. This was too soon. They never worked this quickly. What was the rush? Then another idea occurred to him. “I have unfinished business in Armadillo Creek. We could stop on our way.”

Adam turned his head from the screen, his piercing gray eyes assessing. Sweat beads prickled Cain’s forehead, but he made no move to acknowledge his discomfort.

“Forget it. Going back’s too risky.”

Cain restrained himself from arguing, but Adam picked up on his unhappiness.

“I mean it. Let this girl go. We’re not going back.” He stood. “No more fuck ups. You and Eli need to concentrate. We can’t afford another shoddy run.”

The door slammed behind him as he left the room. For several minutes Cain remained unable to bring himself back to the job at hand.

“So everything’s false? Fake driver’s license. Fake credit cards. Fake license plates. Is there nothing that can tie us to this guy?” John reclined his head against the tall headrest and stared at the opaque skylight. How was it they had so much on Cain McIntosh, yet nothing led them to him?

“We need a court order for the cell phone company to give us a billing address,” Ciggy said.

“Call Judge Tompkins. What else? Got the fingerprints?” John searched the collection Cezi had acquired. The beer bottles had been compromised by the fluming chamber and would be unusable in court. Any defense attorney worth the money would argue her lab wasn’t a licensed facility.

“Soon.” John glanced at the couch and Cezi sound asleep covered with a light blanket. Remaining appealed to him. Too much. But he’d be staying for reasons other than the case.

“You coming alone? I hear our girl’s quite the hot tomato.”

Hot tomato? Yeah, she was that for sure. He knew he should invite her, but something held him back.

“Don’t know, yet.” How many days could they work together before the strain became unbearable between them? He couldn’t continue to handle her, and yet, his hands touched her at every opportunity. “See you then.”

The door opened from the downstairs. Footsteps approached. Nicholae or Luca? He guessed the former. Luca’s limp would have given him away.

Nicholae tossed a pair of jeans and loafers on the table. “Put these on and let’s go to lunch. Lose the tie.”

“Should we wake Czigany?” he lowered his voice, shrugging his shoulder in the direction of the couch. Standing behind the computer he shed the sweatpants and slippers.

“No, we’ll bring her back a sandwich.” The girl’s father adjusted the blanket higher on her shoulders, brushed hair back from her face and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

 John considered arguing, but figured it would be a waste of breath. Gossip made the rounds in an enclosed community. Had the story gotten better? Were they completely naked? No way he wanted to go there.

“Thanks. I’m getting lunch.” He had a dozen questions, none of which concerned the abductions. For a man who’d had refused to ask the team, protecting his ass day in and day out any personal questions, he was amazed at his need to quiz Nicholae about everything regarding his life and Cezi’s. The sunlight shifted. A shadow fell across their table.

John reached for the last quarter of his sandwich, but Nicholae reached out to stop him. “Don’t eat that.”

John eyed the table, trying to sense the problem. Finally he looked at the older man. “Why?”

The man laughed, his face crinkled in humor. Beneath which John sensed a shade of embarrassment. “Silly superstition. Go ahead I didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch.”

Silly superstition or not, John did not touch anything else on the table. He scooted his chair back and signaled for the check, “I’m done.” He purposely turned his head to avoid seeing if Nicholae’s expression was as relieved as he suspected.

The men exited the cool café and were met by the blast of withering heat on the short three-block walk toward the office. Even in the shade of the overhang, John’s shirt stuck as sweat trickled down his back. The coarse denim of the new jeans chaffed his skin. Today he wouldn’t have refused to go into the lake. He pictured Cezi sitting on the dock and a smile came unbidden to his lips.

 “Have you gotten everything you need?” Nicholae’s voice summoned him back to reality.

Interesting. Yesterday they’d insisted he stay. Today the door had been opened for his departure. One step closer and he might be shoved through it.

“Almost.” The bank reader board indicated just past noon the temperature already topped one hundred degrees.

Several doors ahead, two women stepped onto the sidewalk and headed their direction. Both wore sundresses that displayed tanned firm arms, shapely legs and pretty faces. Seeing the men coming at them, the women’s walk morphed into a hypnotic motion that captured both the eyes and imagination.

John’s attention was riveted on the women. A quick glance confirmed Nicholae was no better off than he. No one spoke but a slow blush stained the neck and face of the brunette woman. The blonde’s tanned cleavage invited closer inspection.

Nicholas’s head curved to watch the gentle sway of the women’s hips as they passed.