The Price We Pay (17 page)

I set the box back down on the seat. It didn’t surprise me that they already made contact. They weren’t wasting time. They were serious and it meant we had to hurry up and find her before it got worse.

“Are they calling his cell?” I asked, pulling mine out of my pocket.

“Yes. They called this morning, and when he refused to pay, the finger was delivered an hour later,” she said choking up. “He refused to pay! Lord knows we have the money and he refused to pay!”

“Did he say why?” I asked, trying to get all the information I could from her.

“No. He won’t tell me anything and he left shortly after that. I called that detective that was working on Kennedy’s shooting case and he told me it was best to deal with you.”

“I need your husband's cell number, house number, and his schedule. I need to know everything about your husband and your life for the past six months, and anything significant prior to that.”

She kept her composure while she said, “I’ll tell you everything I can. Whatever I can if you promise me you’ll bring my daughter home. Alive.”

I hated making promises especially when the victim had been missing for twenty-four hours and her pinky had been removed, but these ladies have grown on me and I’d do anything for them. Gabe and his men were working on it, and so was my uncle, but we had been following the wrong person, protecting the wrong person this past week.

I promised her I’d find her daughter, took all the information she gave me, and then exited the car. The black town car drove away and I briefly filled Jaxon in before calling the information into Gabe. He asked that the two of us stop by his office so we could compile all of our information and talk strategy.

Jaxon

“Don’t tell her about Sofia,” I warned Latch while we drove to meet up with Gabe. Neither of us had met him, only talked on the phone so this needed to happen. We had to get things under control and make sure we were all on the same page.

We just left from our meeting with Sofia’s mother and it wasn’t good. Wasn’t good at all, but at least we know now that the problem is her father, not Kennedy. Now we had to switch our focus to him and find her before any more fingers get delivered.

“No shit,” he muttered while swerving into the outside lane. Gabe’s office was in the north suburbs of San Diego and with this traffic, it was going to take forever. I hated the silence but I knew we both had our minds full of shit. I was worried about Sofia, pissed off that Randy was gone, and even more worried about Harper. I had to focus on getting Sofia back, then I could deal with the rest. At least that’s what I told myself, but my mind was more focused on Harper at the moment. She said Arsen called her a whore and that if she tried to do what Randy did to him, that he’d come for her. He was pissed when they found no identification in the house on her but it didn’t matter. He snapped a picture of her with his cell and she was more than freaked out about it. The only good thing was that she had her hair colored, though she knew that wouldn’t stop him from finding her. She wanted to dye it back as soon as possible and I agreed. Plus, I wanted to see her natural hair color.

Harper and I barely knew each other but there was a connection with us. I’ve had girls, but with Harper, I feel like I actually
have
her. Like she needed me, couldn’t live without me, type of shit. It was confusing the short amount of time we’ve known each other, but she did have an orgasm on the back of my bike. Attraction and sex weren't an issue, we just needed to get to know each other better. I needed to know if she’d get pissed if I tossed my clothes on the floor or if she was a hamper kind of person. I needed to know if she was the type to do the dishes immediately after dinner, or if they’d sit in the sink overnight. These kind of things were very important in a relationship. She had a tomboy feel to her which was nice, because if she dressed and looked like she did when I first saw her with Mack, then we’d have problems. I loathed her Barbie Doll look and adored her low-key, down to earth look and vibe.

“Have you heard from Keylan?” he asked switching back into the side lane because the small little red car in front of us was barely moving.

“Not since the last time.”

Keylan had been quiet the last few days, not even returning our text messages which was another concern we had. Even though we’ve been working him for two years, we still had no idea how the man worked or thought. He was completely unpredictable. A ticking time bomb.

At the same time, I didn’t want to hear from him. Sofia and the girls were more important at the moment.

Even though my words would be lost to him, and he wouldn’t believe me, I told him anyway, “What happened to Randy wasn’t your fault.”

I got no response.

Twenty minutes later, we parked the van in front of a large warehouse building covered it silver metal. It wasn’t close to the warehouse district but it fit into this neighborhood of medium sized shops and buildings. There weren’t many people outside, which was due to the extreme heat. It had to be in the nineties with no breeze. I could feel the sweat building and run down my skin as soon as I stepped outside. It didn’t last long, though. The front door was a revolving door and spun us around until it brought us into the main lobby where a man sat behind a large mahogany desk. He was speaking into his wireless earpiece, the small microphone resting on his cheek.

“I heard you, sir, and I’ll say it again, he’s not available. I’d be more than happy to leave him a message.” He talked with a high, chipper, sarcastic voice with a fake smile plastered on his face. He gave us a small wave and then pointed to the black leather sofa on the side of the lobby. His dirty blonde hair was slicked back and he wore a gray bowtie with his purple button down shirt. I watched him pull his ear piece out and toss it on the desk. “I’m on break, bitches,” he said while hitting buttons on the phone sitting on the desk.

He stood straight up, adjusted his clothes, brushed his hands together like they were dirty, then walked towards us. “Hey boys,” he said sitting down between us on the sofa, crossing a leg over the other. “You’re here for Gabe, I know.”

Latch grunted.

“Manly,” the guy whispered and then swung his eyes to me.

“I sent him a private message while I was dealing with that dickhead on the phone.” He smirked. “He’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” I said looking around the lobby. There was a solid black wall behind the desk with one door on each end. The black solid wall went up about ten feet, where it met with glass that continued to the ceiling. There could be an office up there.

“My pleasure,” he said standing. “Coffee? Tea?”

“No thanks,” I said while Latch just shook his head.

“I make the best, angry Margarita,” he said full of feisty attitude.

“You drink on the job?” I asked.

“Oh please,” he said with his hand waving around in the air, “I’ve been with Gabe since he started this business in the basement of his momma’s house. I do my job and I do it well. Besides, I deserve my margaritas considering some of the assholes I put up with.”

To each there own I guess.

“Get back to work, jackass!” Gabe’s voice boomed throughout the lobby. At least I assumed it was him. The man in front of us crossed his arms on his chest and laughed.

“Don’t worry, he fires me twenty times a day but he doesn’t mean it.”

Gabe stood next to him while Latch and I stood. “One of these days I’ll mean it.” He was wearing black jeans, black motorcycle boots, and a black t-shirt that had the name of his company on it in white, Safely Secured.

“Bitch please,” the guy teased with a smile then sashayed back to his desk.

“Let’s go,” Gabe mumbled and we followed him through the door to the left of the desk.

“My offer still stands!” the guy said putting his earpiece back in, and sitting down. No one replied to him and we continued up the stairs and into a loft-type office. I was right about the space; his office overlooked the lobby.

“Tristain is a pain in my ass, but I’m stuck with him,” Gabe said sitting down behind his desk. Latch and I sat in the two chairs across from him. They were black leather just like the sofa in the lobby. “And make sure you pronounce his name right. Tris-Tane. Please for the love of God, don’t call him Tristan.”

I cracked a smile and Latch was still off in another world.

“Before we get down to business I need to clear a few things up.” He said crossing his hands on the manila folder on his desk. “I went to college with Kennedy. He’s a frat brother and he’s engaged to Sofia. Sofia was in the safe house with Marvey and Harper. They all know each other. We all know each other now. In a way.”

“We’re all one big happy family.” I joked, even though it was the truth and got a grin from Gabe, nothing from Latch.

“Speaking of family,” he said looking at me. “I’m sorry about what happened with Laken.”

I nodded. Gabe had been some kind of mentor to Laken these past two years while I’d been undercover. Because I’ve barely talked to her the past two years, I didn’t know much about their relationship.

“Sucks what happened to Edgar,” he continued and I gave another nod. I really didn’t care to talk about that right now.

“Thanks for being there for her when I couldn’t.” This time he gave me the nod. “She’s mentioned you a few times over the last two years, all good things.”

He grinned. “Okay then,” he said opening the folder. “Let’s get to it. My guys are out following leads on that partial plate and the camera feeds from the college. I’m expecting to hear from them soon.”

“They cut her finger off,” Latch said sitting forward in the chair. “I have every reason to believe they’ll do it again.” He locked his glare with Gabe. “Today.”

“Now that we know her father is the target, we’ll have better luck finding her,” Gabe started flipping through the folder and pulling out pictures that he pulled from the camera feeds. “I’ve got another guy trying to find the person who delivered the box. However, the company’s name was fake and the man had a hat on, wore all black, and walked away. We have no proof he arrived in a vehicle unless it was parked blocks away.”

“I feel useless just sitting here,” Latch pointed out. “Talking.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “There’s nothing else we can do?” Gabe and I watched as Latch kneaded his knuckles in his hand.

“You can work with my men if that’d help you.”

Latch nodded and sat back in his chair.

“We’ll do anything you need us to do,” I added.

“Don’t you have a job your working on?” Gabe asked?

“It’s on hold,” I told him. “Our primary concern is Sofia.”

“Good. I’m assuming Sofia’s father is caught up in something messy. Fucked up. Illegal,” he speculated. “We’ll have to follow every lead.”

“It makes sense,” Latch said at the same time the door busted open.

“Margaritas!” Tristain walked into the room with a large pitcher in one hand and holding four stems of the glasses in the other. “Don’t worry, I got the salt in my pocket.” He winked at me then set the pitcher down on Gabe’s desk.

“Time and place, Tristain. Now is certainly not. The. Time,” Gabe seethed.

“It’s always margarita time!” He set the four glasses down and started to pour. “Who’s driving?” he asked without looking up.

“I am,” Latch growled. He was irritated and ready to get the hell out of here and get to work. So was I. But I wasn’t driving and I wanted to try the damn drink. Obviously, he thinks there worth it to interrupt our meeting.

“You can have a small taste then, and if you need a snack before you leave, I’ve got some in my desk.” Tristain handed the glass with the least amount to Latch. He took it like a shot.

“That’s no way to savor my drink, but I’ll let it slide, handsome.” He handed me one, and then Gabe.

“I can’t resist,” Gabe said under his breath before taking his first drink. I did the same. It did taste fantastic. Like little bubbles bursting on my taste buds, just at the right time. It wasn’t tart or sweet, the perfect combination and I found myself taking another drink.

“Told you.” Tristain winked, picking up the now empty pitcher. “Now get back to work.” He turned dramatically and strutted out in his high black heels, which I hadn’t noticed earlier.

“How the hell does he wear them heels?” I asked then drank the rest of my margarita.

“He’s been wearing them since he was two-years-old,” Gabe said after setting his empty glass down. “He always knew who he was.” I felt like there might be more to that story since Gabe dropped his eyes and went back to the folder of pictures.

“Let’s get back to work.”

Harper

“I need to call my parents,” I begged Jack, our security guy that was still sitting in front of our hotel room door refusing to let us leave so I could use the phone. I took a nap as soon as we got here; now I was awake and upset and I really needed to hear my parents’ voice. Randy was gone. I heard his last words, saw him take his last breath while covered in his blood.

I needed my parents. I needed them to know I was alive and safe. They knew my intentions and what I was doing; even though they disagreed with me, they still loved me and let me go. No one could stop me. Until now.

“I’m following orders,” he repeated for the tenth time. Somehow, prior to our arrival the phones in the hotel room were removed. I get the safety concern, I really do, but I woke up more heartbroken than I was before I fell asleep. I barely knew Randy, yet I felt like I knew him all my life. We had nothing to do at the house but talk and get to know each other. Even though he rarely shared, I shared. I told him all about my boring life and my brother’s. Randy was a good-looking man, though I wasn’t attracted to him sexually. I had an instant brother-sister connection with him. Was it because I had just lost my brother? Had I attached myself to him because of that?

“What about food?” I asked, still standing in front of him. “And what happens when you have to pee?”

He smirked and jerked his chin to the side. “Took a piss while you were both snoring.”

I gasped, “I don’t snore!”

He laughed again.

“Oh, I know I snore,” Marvey said from the couch. “If I’m tired, like really tired, I’ll snore like a man.”

“Marvey,” I snapped, “you’re not helping.”

“There’s a man in the hallway. We’ll switch out in a few hours, and he’ll bring some food.”

“So you’re leaving?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, sweetheart,” he sat back in his chair and stretched his feet out in front of him and crossed them, “I’ll come back.”

I wondered if I could get him to text Jaxon but decided to wait and see if the next guy was nicer than this one. I plopped myself down on the couch next to Marvey.

“Don’t pout,” she said flipping through the channels, not even looking in my direction.