Deadly Questions (Hardy Brothers Security Book 8) (7 page)

“How was Sophie last night?” James asked, glancing into the passenger seat of his Explorer and regarding Grady with a contemplative look.

The three brothers were on their way down to Detroit to canvas. They didn’t have a lot of options, and information was the one thing they desperately needed. With no other place to look, they’d all agreed that questioning individuals in the area was their only choice.

“She was … distant,” Grady said.

“Distant with you, or just focused on the case?”

“I don’t know,” Grady admitted, staring out the window. “She gets this way sometimes, although this seems particularly … hard for her.”

“Mandy says it’s because Sophie thinks it could have happened to her,” James said. “And Emma.”

Finn perked up in the backseat. “Why does she say that?”

“Because Sophie and Emma were at-risk teenagers,” James replied. “Peter saved Sophie, and Emma … well … she just saved herself.”

“I never really thought about it that way,” Grady said. “I was so busy looking down at what Peter did for a living, I never really looked at what he did right.”

“Sophie is an amazing woman,” James said. “She’s strong. I think she did a lot of that herself. I also think Peter was smart enough to take care of her and let her grow into what she was always supposed to be. We need to give him credit for that.”

“We do,” Grady agreed. “I just don’t know what to do sometimes. Sophie takes everything in on herself and just mulls it over so hard it’s like she’s compacting trash in there or something.”

James barked out a laugh. “She gets intense.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Grady admitted. “She’s not really talking. She’s just poring through files and pacing. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Distract her,” Finn said.

“How?”

“You know.”

Grady made a face. “Yes, we’ll just start having sex twenty-four hours a day. That will fix everything.”

James pressed his lips together, fighting off the urge to laugh. “Have you tried talking to her?”

“Of course,” Grady said. “I just … she says everything is fine and that’s she’s just concentrating.”

“Maybe that’s the truth?”

“It is the truth,” Grady said. “There’s something else going on, though.”

“I think it’s the thought of women being taken and used as … well, we know what they’re probably being used for,” Finn said. “Emma is kind of worked up, too. She blames herself for not believing Lily when she first heard the story. Now she’s going out of her way to try and be a friend to Lily.”

“And you don’t like that?” James asked.

“I’m uncomfortable with Emma going into the neighborhood where Lily lives,” Finn said. “I also don’t like the memories it’s stirring up for Emma. She never wants to talk about … that … but I can tell she’s been thinking about it. She looks haunted. I just don’t think hanging out with Lily is going to help her.”

“Tell her.”

“Yeah, I’ll just tell her I forbid her to go into bad areas,” Finn deadpanned. “I’m sure she’ll take it well.”

“Don’t forbid her,” Grady said. “Just explain. Emma is rational.”

“Sophie is rational, too,” Finn said. “How well did she take it when you tracked her down on the street the other day?”

Grady scowled. “Not well.”

“Yeah, women don’t like it when we get bossy and territorial,” James said. “I have no idea why. I love it when Mandy bosses me around.”

Finn snorted. “I think you’re talking about something entirely different than we are,” he said. “Women just think differently than men. It’s like their brains are broken or something.”

“Oh, please let me be there when you tell that theory to Emma,” Grady said.

Finn made a face. “You know what I mean.”

“Well, Emma and Sophie aren’t the only ones worked up about this,” James said. “Mandy was in a mood last night, too.”

“Because of this? She wasn’t an at-risk teenager,” Grady said. “She was as far from at-risk as it comes.”

“I think it’s the idea of women being sold,” James said. “I’m not particularly thrilled with it either. It’s just harder for us to imagine the realities involved. People aren’t grabbing men off the street and selling them into sexual slavery.”

“We don’t know that’s happening here,” Finn said. “We have rumors and questions, but we have no answers.”

“That’s what we’re doing down here,” James said, parking his Explorer on the street. “We’re looking for answers.”

“Should we do it together or split up?” Grady asked.

“Split up,” James said. “Just … don’t go too far. I think people will be more willing to talk to us one-on-one. If something goes south, I want everyone in shouting distance. Keep your phones on you, too.”

“This is a horrible area,” Finn said.

“Yeah, as if having to live down here isn’t bad enough,” Grady mused. “These women also have to worry about being grabbed and abused. This is just … .”

“We’re working on it,” James said. “We can only do so much.”

“I know.”

“So, let’s do what we do,” James said. “Let’s find some answers.”

“I’M
really not interested in … that,” Grady said, fighting to keep his features even as he questioned the two prostitutes loitering on the corner. They were chain smoking, blowing a steady haze into his face, but they appeared open to conversation. “I have a girlfriend.”

“And where is she?” Pansy asked.

The woman had introduced herself as Pansy – and her friend as Violet – but Grady had serious doubts those were their real names. He couldn’t fault them for lying about their identities, or trying to pretty up a harsh situation.

“She’s at work,” Grady said.

“You should tell her that letting a man as fine as you wander around in an area like this isn’t in her best interests,” Violet said, shaking her brown hair for emphasis. “You’re prime for the picking.”

“I’ve already been … picked,” Grady said.

“Then what are you doing down here?” Pansy asked.

“I’m looking for information.”

The women exchanged a worried look. “What kind of information?”

“We’ve heard some rumors about women disappearing,” Grady explained. “Do you know anything about that?”

“That’s none of our business,” Pansy said.

“But you have heard something, haven’t you?” Grady pressed.

“There are always rumors down here,” Violet said, her interest in the conversation waning. “You get used to it. Most of them aren’t true.”

“I understand that,” Grady said. “I’m just trying to find anyone who might have some information.”

“How would we know?” Pansy asked. “We obviously haven’t been taken.”

Grady decided to take a different tactic. “Is there anyone down here, someone you know was … working the streets … who has gone missing?”

“That happens all the time,” Pansy replied. “That doesn’t mean they were taken.”

“Yeah, some people just can’t handle the life,” Violet said. “They leave. They think they’re going to make better lives for themselves. It never happens. Most of them show back up here sooner or later.”

“Some people have to get out, though,” Grady said.

“I’m sure they do,” Violet replied. “I’ve just never met one of them.”

“We’re all like kids on Christmas,” Pansy said. “We have big dreams. As you get older, as each Christmas comes and goes, you realize that your dreams just aren’t going to be a reality.”

The admission made Grady inexplicably sad. “And what dreams have you given up on?”

“I’ve lost count,” Pansy said.

“Me, too,” Violet said. “It just is what it is.”

Grady wanted to argue. He wanted to offer them hope. Since he had no means of backing up any promise he made, he let it go. “What about the disappearing women? Tell me what you’ve heard.”

“Honey, we’re working here,” Violet said. “If we don’t bring money back this afternoon, we’re going to be missing a lot more than dreams. We’re going to be missing teeth. You have no idea how much that cuts back on business.”

Grady frowned, reaching into his back pocket and drawing out his wallet. He handed each woman a hundred-dollar bill. “Can’t this be your work for the day?”

The women took the money, shoving it into their exposed cleavage wordlessly.

“There have been a few stories,” Pansy said after a moment. “You always hear stories, so I disregarded them at first. They’ve been increasing in … frequency.”

“Just tell me what you’ve heard,” Grady prodded.

“There was a little girl out here, her name was Virginia,” Violet said. “We told her she should never use her real name because it would just lead to problems.”

“She couldn’t have been more than sixteen,” Pansy said. “And, if I had to guess, I would say she was even younger.”

Grady’s heart clenched.

“She was out here for two weeks,” Violet said. “We kind of took her under our wing. We were going to take her back to … our business partner … to give her a level of protection. We were just waiting to make sure she wanted to make the choice to stay. Once you sign up with someone, there’s no turning back.”

“She was staying in some hole down by Joe Louis Arena,” Pansy said. “There were like eight other women staying there. It wasn’t safe. Anyway, the day she was supposed to meet our friend, she just didn’t show back up.”

“At first we thought she just went back home,” Violet said. “You could tell she came from somewhere. She was too new – too protected – to have known this life. Then we heard that someone transported her across the bridge.”

“How was she transported?” Grady asked.

“In the trunk of a blue sedan,” Pansy said. “Someone saw her being wrestled in there. She was screaming.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Six weeks or so,” Pansy replied.

“And you haven’t seen her since?”

“She’s gone,” Violet said.

“What about the man who took her?” Grady asked. “What did he look like?”

“Oh, honey, when you see as many faces as we do, everyone melds together,” Violet said.

Grady rubbed his forehead, considering. “I guess. Anyone else?”

“I heard a rumor about a stitch being taken over by one of the casinos,” Pansy offered. “That was about two months ago.”

“What’s a stitch?”

“It means she has a big scar on her face,” Violet explained. “It never healed properly, and whoever stitched it up left her looking like a monster. Those women only get work with the meth heads.”

“That’s horrible,” Grady said.

Violet shrugged. “The streets are full or horrible, honey.”

Grady handed each woman a business card. “If you remember anything else please give me a call.”

He started to move away, stilling when he heard a loud voice berating the two women he’d just interviewed.

“What are you lazy bitches doing? How do you expect to make your quota if you’re just standing here like the fat cows that you are?”

Grady swiveled, fixing the man with a hard look. “Do you need to speak to them like that?”

“Get out of her, Mr. Fancypants,” the man sneered. “You’re clearly not shopping, which means you don’t belong here. Move along.”

Grady took in the man’s filthy blue jeans and black suit coat – which was at least two sizes too big – and fought the urge to smack him in the face. There were two large goons standing about five feet away, and Grady had a feeling they were hired muscle. Getting in a fight – especially in this neighborhood – was a bad idea.

“There’s no need to talk to them like that,” Grady pressed. “They’re people, not possessions.”

“And you’re out of your league, jackass.”

“Frankie, he was just looking for information,” Pansy said. “We told him we didn’t have any and sent him away. There’s no need to fight. We’ll get to work.”

Frankie yanked Pansy’s hair viciously. “Don’t ever speak back to me, you ungrateful slut!”

Grady was moving before he had a chance to think better of it. He grabbed Frankie’s arm, tugging him away from Pansy so he could have a clear field when he hit him. His fist smashed into the man’s face, causing Frankie to grab his nose as the audible crack filled the street.

“You asshole!”

The two goons were on him, their meaty hands digging into Grady’s arms. “Let me go!”

“Let him go!” James joined the fray, grabbing one of the thugs by the back of his coat and dragging him away from his brother. “Don’t touch him!”

“Oh, good, there are two of them,” Frankie said, touching his nose gingerly. “Kill them.”

“Run! He’ll kill you. He means business,” Pansy said, crying out as Frankie backhanded her.

That was all Grady could take. He lifted his leg, kneeing the man he was tussling with in the groin and reaching out so he could get his hands on Frankie again.

“What the hell?” Finn asked, appearing on the curb next to his brothers. “Why are we fighting?”