Deadly Ties (20 page)

He waited for each of the women to nod. Lisa did, and though she was tempted to ask questions, she sensed this was a good time to be quiet and fade away. Then if she did attack, it would be more of a surprise.

“Don’t talk to anybody. Don’t look at anybody. That bracelet you’re wearing is a tracking device. If you run, I will find you. Break any of these rules, and this will be your last stop.”

The hard, cold shards in his eyes warned her it wasn’t a scare tactic; it was a statement of fact.

Lisa followed Selene out of the truck onto the asphalt. Straightening her legs had them stinging. Being folded for so long had cut off her circulation. Lisa rotated her feet to get the blood flowing and stop the needle-prick sensations shooting up and down her legs. She was sore all over and used the brief pause to visually investigate.

Shabby convenience store with a half-torn-up parking lot surrounded by woods. No other businesses, no other cars, and no lights shining in the distance signaling nearby houses. The only sign in sight was one for the Interstate 10 on ramp.
Totally remote
. Not a single clue as to what state they were in, and nothing pointed to anyone assisting Frank. Apparently he was working this leg of the operation alone. That carried a spark of hope that her next thought dashed. He and his cohorts could have split up.

Frank lifted his cell phone to his ear. “Yeah.” He held an outstretched arm to keep the women from moving. A long moment later, he said, “Got it.” He shoved the phone back into his pants pocket. “Juan!”

A short Latino man in his late forties came around the side of the truck to the back. He didn’t look at them or say a word.

“Go around the side of the building.” He jerked his head to the right. “Guard the window in the women’s rest room. If anybody comes out it, shoot ’em.”

Juan crossed the lot and then disappeared around the corner of the cinder-block building.

“Remember the rules.” Frank gestured for them to move.

They walked inside. An elderly woman sat on a stool behind the counter near a cash register. She hurriedly lifted her newspaper to hide her face. Clearly she didn’t want to see or be seen. Lisa strained to read the title on the front page, hoping to get an idea of their location, but the print was too far away and the woman’s hands were shaking.

That telltale shake proved she knew exactly what was going on, and she wouldn’t do a thing to stop it.

On the way to the rest room, Lisa snagged a tube of Neosporin off the shelf.
Forgive me for stealing, Lord. Gwen needs it
.

After shoving it into her top, Lisa entered the rest room, washed her face and hands, and checked the mirror above the sink.

Her face was swollen, and she had a few scratches on her jaw. Her ribs, legs, and arms were muddy with bruises, but nothing that wouldn’t heal. The men had tried to avoid hitting her in the face. Now she knew why.
Auctioned. Sold!

Fear crackled inside her. Her hands shook. She shook all over. Was her mother still alive? Would Lisa see her again? And what about Mark? He’d feel guilty and was probably chewing himself up. She hated that. He deserved so much better. So much good.

She just had to make it out of this. Mark would spend the rest of his life looking for her, and he’d never forgive himself for failing her. He hadn’t failed her, of course. She’d been foolish, taking the backdoor exit from the ICU. But Mark wouldn’t see it that way—not looking at it through eyes that failed Jane. Yet even if her mom lived and by some miracle Lisa made it home, would she and Mark work past this? Would she or her mom ever again feel or be safe?

How could Dutch do this? Cruel and vicious and malicious barely began to cover it. How could any human being do this to another human being? Her mother could be dying.
Dying
. And Lisa wasn’t there with her.

Tears threatened, clogged her throat. Lisa fought them, repeatedly swallowing hard, and turned away from the sink and mirror. Facing the wall, she squeezed her eyes shut.

God, help me. Give me the wisdom and strength to survive this. It’s too big for me. I can’t do it alone. And help Mark find me. If an opportunity comes for me to help myself and these other women, I’m so scared I’ll miss it. God, please make sure I see it. Thank You
.

Gwen and Selene stood waiting at the door. “Do you do that often?”

“Do what?” Lisa had no idea what Selene meant.

“Pray?”

“Yes, I guess I do.”

Selene sounded almost shy. “Does it help?”

Lisa checked her eyes, expecting mockery but seeing genuine interest. “Honestly? Not always the way I would like, but things usually work out.”

Gwen dragged her fingers down her face. “I used to pray all the time. I’m not sure why I stopped. I’m not even sure when it happened. I just stopped.”

“It’s like anything else,” Lisa said. “You let it slide, and next time letting it slide is easier, and one day you don’t think about it anymore.”

“I guess so.” Gwen sighed. “Maybe now would be a good time to start again, huh?”

Easy, Lisa. No pressure, no force
. “Couldn’t hurt. All I know is, for me life’s too hard without it.” Lisa smeared salve on her fingertip, wrote
Lisa needs help! Call
, and then added Mark’s cell number.

“Clever.” Gwen gawked at her reflection in the mirror. “But who’s gonna see it? That woman out there?”

Selene harrumphed. “She’s not calling anyone.”

“Someone has to shop here.” Lisa turned away from the mirror, tore off a hand towel, and then wiped her hands.

“We can hope.”

Lisa tossed the crunched towel into the trash can.

“Pray on that too, Lisa.” Selene looked down. “I don’t pray. Not many who walk in my world do.”

Lisa knew what it was to feel like an outsider. Selene lived in a world of people where faith largely stood apart from daily life. Lisa lived in a world of people immersed in faith and felt largely separated on the inside. Everyone had her own path to walk, and they all had trials to face. “Your world doesn’t really matter. You either believe or you don’t. It’s a personal choice we all make.”

“True.” Selene scrunched her nose. “I’m just not that holy, you know?”

Lisa had heard that a hundred times in her first month at the center. “Who is? We all just do the best we can.”

Gwen tilted her head toward the door. “We’d better get back out there before Juan or Frank gets testy. I’m not up to another beating—none of us is.” She grabbed the door handle. “Ready?”

Lisa eyed the window. She could take Juan, unless he started shooting the second she bobbed her head through the window, and with Frank’s orders, that’s what he was apt to do. Wiser to wait for a better opportunity. “Yeah.”

“No.” Selene pouted, wrung her hands. “But what choice do we have?”

“At the moment, none. But hope springs eternal.” Lisa walked out behind the other two.

Frank waited just outside the door.

No one had come into the store; still just the woman on her stool, hiding behind the newspaper. She couldn’t identify them; she had made sure of that. Lisa worked hard not to judge her. She could be under as much duress as they were or even more. Lisa glanced out through the front windows. Still no other cars in the parking lot and none at the gas pumps.

Disappointment bit harder and sank deeper, but she expected it. She never could catch a break, not even with two hands and a net.

Gwen shoved open the door, and they filed outside.

Bringing up the rear, Lisa closed the door behind her—and saw a sign taped to its glass.
Human trafficking is a crime. If you are a victim or know of a victim, call …

Chilled to the bone, she ignored the number. No way would she have the opportunity to call anyone, and nothing in the store had cued her as to where exactly they were—not that she had much opportunity to look with Frank hovering like a shadow. But the sign chilled her for another reason.

It was just like the one that hung in Dutch’s store.

A flier posted in the window near the sign caught her eye.
Lost puppy. Black and white mixed breed. Call Nina
. Weird. There was no phone number.

“Move it, woman.” Frank grabbed her by the arm and tugged her toward the truck.

Where was the other guy—Juan? If Lisa took on Frank, Gwen and Selene wouldn’t be prepared. The delay could be costly—he was armed—but if Juan didn’t intercede, they might make it to the woods. The distance back into the store was shorter. They could make it in and lock Frank out. He’d have to shoot his way in. Surely that’d give one of them time to call police. Lisa didn’t see Juan anywhere.

Two more steps and the window of opportunity would be closed.

“Got that water yet?” Frank shouted.

“Sí, I have it.” Juan came into view from the far side of the truck, carrying three bottles of water. He walked over to Frank but didn’t pass out the bottles.

“Get in.” Frank motioned to Lisa. “You first.”

The opportunity was gone. Let down, Lisa shunned her disappointment. The time hadn’t been right. But in two hours, when they stopped again, she’d have another chance, and next time, she and Gwen and Selene would all be ready.

Hiking her hem, Lisa stepped onto the wide bumper and then pulled herself up into the truck. From the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the store clerk peering out at them from behind a sign at the window. She definitely knew what was going on and wasn’t going to lift a finger to help them.

Maybe she can’t
.

Lisa frowned.
Sorry. I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, but “can’t” just isn’t good enough. Anyone can make an anonymous phone call. You want her forgiven, God, then You’ll have to forgive her. I can’t do it. I’m not that holy or that strong
.

When Selene and Gwen were seated on the floor of the truck, Frank tossed two bottles of water toward them. When he got to Lisa, he paused. “I know about your black belt. I’m not impressed. Pull any of that martial-arts stuff on me, and you won’t be going inside or getting water again.” The imprint of his gun tucked into his waistband bulged, stark and menacing.

“Figured that.” She leaned forward to reach for the bottle—and saw the spiderweb tattoo on his hand.

Jerking back, she fell onto her bottom, thumping against the truck bed. “Lost my balance,” she said, hoping to cover her reaction. She took the water bottle and sat back, locking her muscles to keep from cringing at the image flooding her mind.

A misty, fuzzy image of her as a young child, fiddling with the peach-and-cream ribbons on a barrette she and her mother had made at a craft workshop. Sounds of her voice filled her ears, a telephone conversation with her mother, but the voices were distant, muffled by hard-rock music, the words inaudible.

Lisa locked on to the image, forced it to her, and in her mind’s eye she saw a man beating on the window of her room. He shouted at her through the glass.
“It’s time for you to become a shrub.”
Her repeating that to her mother, asking what it meant. Her dog Rex’s snarling coming through the phone, her mother’s panicked,
“Do not open that door. Go get Daddy, darling …”

What
door? Where was she?

Inside her mind, something snapped. She heard a crash. Wood splinter and crack. The door caved in, and her father shouted from behind her. Something flashed, exploded. Lisa screamed and screamed.

And screamed.

15

M
ark stood near the nurses’ station outside the ICU.

Detective Jeff Meyers stood next to him, his suit a little snug. He’d put on a couple of pounds over the winter, but tourist season always took it off. He’d be rail thin by its end. Passersby gave them a wide berth. Everyone working with them had scattered inside the hospital and out in the village, trying to scare up or run down leads.

So far, they all came up dry.

“Brought you some coffee from Ruby’s.” Jeff set a cardboard tray holding two paper cups on the ledge of the counter. The distinct scent of Ruby’s strong coffee filled the air.

Jeff’s pug nose twitched. “It’s pretty obvious Dutch is behind this. But it’s just as obvious that he didn’t act alone. It’d be easy enough for him to hire a couple of thugs to help him, but hacking into the hospital’s security system … None of the thugs around here is that smart and neither is he.”

“Dutch definitely had help. When Rose finally got him on the phone, he was in Georgia. Joe verified his location.”

“Where exactly was he?” Jeff pulled a cup free from the carton and passed it to Mark.

“In a hotel just across the state line.” Mark thumbed the tab and drank through the lid. “We faxed up a photo, and the clerk positively identified him.”

“So he hired professionals to assault Annie and abduct Lisa. Is that what you’re thinking?”

“Yeah.” Mark covertly scanned the area to be sure they wouldn’t be overheard. This was the first chance they’d had to talk one-on-one in person, and what he was about to say wasn’t the kind of thing you trusted to the phone. “I’m afraid it isn’t just professionals he hired, Jeff. It’s NINA.”

“NINA?” Jeff pulled his own cup from the holder and sent Mark a confused look. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Boy, those were hard words to admit. “But Karl Masson was in the parking lot when Lisa was abducted.”

“Whoa.” Jeff scowled. “Think he’s back in the village for Kelly Walker?”

“Maybe, but I don’t believe that’s all of it. Why would he leave the hospital with Kelly still inside? Why abduct Lisa instead?” Mark couldn’t answer those questions with any degree of certainty, but the scope of this had to be wider than Masson’s killing Kelly. “I’m sure Masson wants Kelly neutralized, but this has to be a multipurpose visit. Taking Lisa was a deliberate act.”

Leaving the coffee untouched, Jeff stared off at the wall, then snapped his gaze back to Mark. “Had to be or Annie wouldn’t be here.”

Two orderlies walked by complaining about runny eggs in the cafeteria. Waiting for them to move out of earshot, Mark glanced over at a painting hanging on the wall. It was a serene landscape. Calm and tranquil—the antithesis of all he was feeling inside. He wished he could crawl into it and absorb some of its calm. Maybe if he got some of the knots out of his gut, his focus would get off of what could be happening to Lisa and on to finding her. “If Masson was here on behalf of NINA, what are they doing and why?”

“Good questions. Unfortunately, I can’t answer them.” His eyes red-rimmed from the lack of sleep, Jeff rubbed his neck. “Man, it just doesn’t make sense. These kinds of crimes are way outside NINA’s profile.”

They were alien to NINA’s
existing
profile. “I have reason to believe NINA has expanded its operations.”

“I see.” Jeff sobered, leaned against the counter ledge. “What do they want with Lisa?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re confident they didn’t make a mistake?” Jeff rubbed his jaw.

Mark grunted. “With Annie in ICU? The hospital computer hacked and the security camera destroyed? No. They didn’t make a mistake.”

“Masson had to be here under orders. No way would he come on his own for anything that didn’t involve killing Kelly. But it’s a big organization. Assaulting a woman and kidnapping her daughter seems too small a thing for NINA to take on.”

“I wasn’t asking you if they had expanded, Jeff. I’m telling you they have.”

Jeff muttered a curse under his breath. “Why did they take her?”

“Nick’s been digging deep. Most obvious reason would be human trafficking for prostitution.” Just saying it sickened Mark.

“Sex trafficking isn’t chump change. Drugs, they sell once. People, they sell over and over again.”

The video clip Mark’s buddy had sent over of the two women fighting stuck in Mark’s mind. The women who survived fought over and over again. What if those were connected to Lisa? Mark hadn’t permitted his thoughts to go there. Now he had no choice.

Mark’s cell rang. He paused to answer it. “Taylor.”

“Omega One.” Jane’s former intelligence buddy.

“Yes?”

“Check out this URL.” He rambled it off. “Got it?”

“Yeah.” Mark tensed, stared at Jeff. “Reply?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Thanks.”

Mark ended the call, then brought up the Internet and keyed in the URL on a secure laptop Beth Dawson had brought over when she’d warned them off using the hospital’s system until she could run analytics.

“Need some privacy?” Jeff asked.

“No, you need to see this.” Mark turned the screen so they could both view the clip.

A rambunctious crowd cheered, pumping their fists. Two women faced each other in a boxing ring, dressed in evening gowns and high heels: one in red, the other in black. It was an absurd sight. The crowd, too, was dressed in formal attire. This was no cut-rate, low-cost operation. A bell rang. The women locked together, fists flying. They fought and fought hard. By the time the bell rang, they were both bloody. Then came round two and three and four.

The woman in red cracked the one in black with a right cross that sent her reeling. She staggered back against the ropes. The woman in red lunged, grabbed the other by the throat, and yanked her down to the mat, choking her. The woman on the bottom kicked and flailed, but the other didn’t let go.

The crowd jumped to its feet, shouting so loudly their words created an indecipherable din. Then they chanted, “Kill. Kill. Kill.”

And they kept shouting it until the woman in black moved no more.

A collective hush settled over the crowd. The woman in red checked her opponent’s bloody throat for a pulse. She stood, stared down at the mat, her expression haunted.

Thunderous applause erupted.

The woman in red covered her ears, trying to block out the sound.

The woman in black was dead.

The clip ended.

“She killed that woman—and they’re cheering.” Jeff looked from the screen to Mark. “I’ve seen some cold stuff on the force, but this is—”

“I know. I need a minute.” Mark’s stomach roiled. He touched the screen on the laptop. It went black. He pulled out his phone and conference called the guys. When he had them, he said, “Everyone on secure computers?”

Everyone reported that they were, and Mark added, “Something you need to see. Here’s the URL.”

“Got it, bud.”

“Me too, bro.”

“Hanging on or reporting back?”

Tim
. “Neither. Just new information to add to the initial.”

“Connected?” Joe asked.

“I don’t know, but it’s looking more like it all the time.” His voice husky, Mark ended the call.

Jeff turned down the static-ridden radio clipped to his hip, then rubbed his neck. “That’s no small-time operation.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Mark’s cell rang. Expecting it, he stepped away from Jeff, then tapped the computer screen. The film reappeared. Then Mark lifted the phone to his ear. “Taylor.”

“Omega One.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“The woman in black was one of ours—civilian side, undercover.”

“My sympathy to her family.”

“Yeah.” Jane’s friend hung up.

Jeff frowned, his eyes clouded with trouble. “What’s really going on, Mark?”

He checked for others within earshot and saw none. “That was the second fight video I’ve seen. The first one was fifteen, maybe twenty seconds. When it ended, the women were still fighting. In this one, the woman dressed in black—”

“Yeah?”

“She was an FBI agent who had infiltrated the operation.”

“Why are you getting—?” Jeff suddenly stilled. “This is related to Lisa?”

There’s no other reason Omega One would have risked sending it to him. “Someone thinks it is, but I have to know. When I got the first video, it was an alert that NINA was active in the area again. I thought they were coming after Kelly Walker.”

“So you called in your buddies for backup.”

“Yeah. But now I’m thinking this isn’t about Kelly at all.”

Empathy flashed across Jeff’s face. “This stuff is way over my head. I don’t have the manpower or the resources to take on NINA. It’s time to pull in some power from outside sources. Maybe you and your friends could do the same.”

“Joe’s already put in some calls.” Mark tumbled Lisa’s ring inside his pocket, flipping it over, rubbing its smooth, worn surface. “He has more connections than the rest of us put together.”

“I’ll make some calls too. Highway patrol hasn’t picked up the truck. If we had a tag, maybe.”

“I know it’s a long shot.” Mark was glad they were beyond the missing person’s requirements, now that they had evidence a crime had been committed and they could call in outsiders to help. But he wasn’t surprised. Jeff was no fool, and he’d gone up against NINA before. Even aided by the FBI, it’d been all they could handle. NINA played hardball—and it played to win. “Did you get that restraining order to keep Dutch out of here?”

“Yeah. I delivered it to Grant Thurman and dropped off a copy at the administration office on the way up here.”

“Thanks. Keep me posted.” Mark frowned. “I need to go check on Annie.”

Jeff set down his cup and stepped away from the station. “I know I’ve already said this, but I am sorry, Mark. If I could change places with either of them, I would.”

“I know. Me too.” Mark didn’t have to pretend to understand how Jeff felt or act as if he didn’t see the tormented look in the man’s eyes. The nearest mirror would reflect the same look in his own.

Jeff got a call and left. Mark headed to the elevator, spotted Joe coming upstairs.

“I hear you’re not eating or sleeping, bro.”

“After watching that latest video?”

“Point taken.” Joe glanced down the hall. “However, you’re a risk to the rest of us right now, and I won’t have that. You said you were too involved, so you put me in charge. My responsibility is to the team. For the team, go get some food and then hit the rack for a while.”

Mark glowered at Joe. “You know what could be happening to her.”

“I know.” Joe lowered his voice, stepped closer. “And I know it scares you out of your skin—as it should. But this isn’t your fault. She’s not Jane.”

Anger flashed through Mark, hot and furious. He stiffened. “I
know
that.” He took a few steps, whipped around, and came back. “That agent was killed.
Killed
, Joe. You think I’m out of control? You’re lucky I’m not at HQ pounding heads.”

“So are you. Leavenworth isn’t much fun, and you’d be totally worthless to us or Lisa in there.” Joe pointed to an empty room. “Go to Ruby’s. Eat. Sleep. Clear your head. I’ve got it covered, okay?”

“Okay.” Mark headed toward the elevator. The sag in his shoulders was heavy, familiar. Guilt was a heavy load.