bannerbannerbanner
A Trace of Vice
A Trace of Vice

Полная версия

A Trace of Vice

текст

0

0
Настройки чтения
Размер шрифта
Высота строк
Поля
На страницу:
3 из 4

One of them, clearly the alpha, sniggered and turned to his friends. “Did this bitch just say it was nipply?” He was Hispanic, short, and a little paunchy in the face, but his bulky flannel shirt hid his frame, making it hard for Keri to tell what she might be up against. The other guys were both tall and skinny with the shirts hanging off skeletal frames. One was white and the other was Hispanic. Keri took a moment to appreciate the racial diversity of this particular street gang before deciding to exploit it.

“You guys letting white boys in these days?” she asked, nodding at the odd man out. “What? Hard to find enough brown-skinned members willing to take orders from you?”

Keri didn’t love playing this card but she needed something to create division among them and she knew a lot of these gangs were very particular about membership requirements.

“That mouth is gonna get you in trouble, lady,” the Alpha hissed.

“Yeah, trouble,” repeated the tall white guy. The tall Hispanic guy remained silent.

“You always go around repeating what your boss says?” Keri asked the white guy. “You pick up any trash he drops on the ground too?”

The two men glanced at each other. Keri could tell she’d hit a sore spot. Behind them, she saw that Ray had gotten the photo of Lanie and was walking back toward them. The two remaining guys by the Corvette started to step in his direction but he gave them a sharp glare and they stopped in their tracks.

“This bitch is rude,” the white guy said, apparently unable to come up with anything more clever.

“We may have to teach you some manners,” Alpha said.

Keri noticed the tall, quiet Hispanic guy with them tense up at that. And suddenly she understood the dynamic among these three. Alpha was the hothead. White was the follower. Quiet was the peacemaker. He hadn’t come over to join in any trouble. He was trying to prevent it. But he hadn’t found a way in yet and that was partly Keri’s fault. She decided to throw him a lifeline and see if he’d use it.

“You two twins?” she asked him as she nodded at White.

He looked at her for a second, clearly unsure what to make of the comment. She gave him a wink and the tension seemed to seep from his body. He almost smiled.

“Identical,” he answered, taking the opening.

“Yo, Carlos, we ain’t twins, man,” White said, not sure whether to be confused or angry.

“No, man,” Alpha jumped in, temporarily forgetting his anger. “Bitch is right. It’s hard to tell you two apart. We need to pin some tags on you, right?”

He and Carlos laughed and White joined in, although he still looked perplexed.

“How we doing over here?” Ray asked, startling all three of them. Before they could get riled again, Keri jumped in.

“I think we’re good,” she said. “Detective Ray Sands, I’d like to introduce you to Carlos and his twin brother. And this is their dear friend…what’s your name?”

“Cecil,” he said willingly.

“This is Cecil. They like Corvettes and chatting older ladies up. But unfortunately, we’re going to have to leave you to the car repair, gentlemen. We’d like to stay, but you know how it is with LAPD – always working. Unless, that is, you’d like us to stick around and discuss manners a little more. Would you like that, Cecil?”

Cecil took a look at all 230 pounds of Ray, then back at Keri, seemingly unruffled by his insults, and apparently decided he’d had enough.

“Nah, it’s aight. Y’all go on and do your LAPD thing. We busy with car repair, like you said.”

“Well, you guys have great night, okay?” Keri said with a level of enthusiasm that only Carlos noticed bleeding into mockery. They nodded and headed back to the Corvette as Keri and Ray got in their car.

“That could have gone worse,” Ray said.

“Yeah, I know you’re still not a hundred percent from that gunshot wound. I figured I shouldn’t get you involved in an altercation with five gang members if I could help it.”

“Thanks for looking out for your invalid partner,” Ray said as he pulled out into the street

“Don’t mention it,” Keri said, ignoring the sarcasm.

“So did Edgerton have any luck with the social media stuff?”

“He did. We need to go to Fox Hills Mall.”

“What’s there?”

“I’m hoping those girls,” Keri said, “but I’ve got a feeling we aren’t going to be that lucky.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The second Sarah woke up, she felt like she needed to vomit. Her vision was blurry and so was her head. There was a bright light shining down on her and it took a second to realize she was lying on a threadbare mattress in a small, otherwise nearly empty room.

She blinked a couple of times and her eyesight cleared up enough for her to see a small plastic garbage can lying on the floor beside the mattress. She leaned over and pulled it to her, retching into it for a full thirty seconds, ignoring her watery eyes and even more watery nose.

She heard a noise, looked in that direction, and saw that someone had pulled back a black curtain to reveal that she wasn’t actually in a small room at all. She was in a cavernous warehouse. As far as the eye could see, there were other mattresses. And on almost all of them were girls her age, all scantily clad or naked.

Some were alone, either sleeping, or more likely passed out. Others were with men, who were having their way with them. Some of the girls struggled, others lay there helplessly, and a few didn’t seem to even be conscious while they were being violated. Sarah’s mind was foggy but she guessed there were at least twenty girls in the warehouse.

Someone stepped into view. It was Chiqy, the huge guy with the long beard from Dean’s room. Suddenly, Sarah’s head cleared and the observational distance she’d felt while taking in her surroundings disappeared. Her heart began to pound and she felt a creeping terror take hold of her.

Where am I? What is this place? Why do I feel so weak?

She tried to sit upright as Chiqy moved closer but her arms collapsed under her and she slumped back onto the mattress. That made Chiqy chuckle.

“Don’t try to get up,” he said, “the drugs we gave you make you clumsy. You might fall and break something. And we can’t have that. It would be bad for business. Clients prefer that if any bones get broken, they’re the ones doing it.”

“What did you do to me?” she demanded hoarsely, trying to sit up again.

Before she knew what was happening, Chiqy backhanded her across the face, knocking her back onto the mattress and sending an explosion of pain from her cheekbone to her ear. As she gasped for air and tried to regain her equilibrium, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.

“You gonna learn, little miss. You don’t raise your voice. You don’t talk back unless a client wants it. You don’t ask questions. Chiqy in charge. You follow my rules, you’ll be okay. You don’t, then not so okay. We clear?”

Sarah nodded.

“Good. Then listen up cuz here come the rules. First, you’re my property. I own you. I may loan you out but never forget who you belong to. You understand?”

Sarah, her cheek still throbbing from his slap, nodded meekly. Even as she tried to wrap her head around the situation, she knew that openly challenging Chiqy in her current condition was unwise.

“Second, you gonna satisfy my clients’ needs. You don’t gotta love it, although who knows, maybe you’ll take to it. That don’t matter. You do what the client says, no matter what. If you don’t, I’ll beat you ’til your insides bleed. I have ways of doing that so you still look pretty for the clients. On the outside, you’ll look like angel. But on the inside, you’ll be all pulp. We clear?”

Again Sarah nodded. She tried to prop herself up again and squinted in the bright light, hoping to get her bearings. She didn’t recognize any of the other girls. Suddenly a cold chill ran up her spine.

Where’s Lanie?

“Can you tell me what happened to my friend?” she asked in what she hoped wasn’t a challenging voice.

Before she knew what was happening, Chiqy had slapped her again, this time on the other cheek. The force of it slammed her down against the mattress hard.

“I wasn’t done,” she heard him say despite her ringing ears. “The last rule is you don’t speak unless I ask you a question. Like I said, you’re gonna learn fast that being uppity doesn’t pay around here. You got it?”

Sarah nodded, noticing her head throb as she did.

“But that question I’ll answer,” Chiqy said with a cruel smile on his face. He pointed at a mattress about fifteen feet away.

Sarah looked over and saw a man who looked to be in his sixties on top of a girl whose head was slumped to the side. Just then, the man grabbed her chin and lifted her face so he could kiss her.

Sarah nearly gagged again as she realized it was Lanie. She was naked from the waist down and her black tank top was up around her neck, revealing her bra. When the man lost interest in her lips, he let go and her head lolled in Sarah’s direction.

She could tell that her friend was conscious, if only barely. Her heavy-lidded eyes were barely slits and she didn’t seem to be aware of her surroundings. Her body was limp and she didn’t physically react to the things being done to her.

Sarah took it all in but somehow the horror of the moment seemed like it was happening far away, on a distant planet. Maybe it was the drugs. Maybe it was getting hit in the face twice. But she felt numb.

Maybe I should be grateful for that.

“She was hard to handle so we had to calm her down a lot,” Chiqy said. “That could be you. Or if you don’t fight so much, we won’t have to give you the sleepy shot. It’s up to you.”

Sarah looked at him and started to answer but then remembered the rules and bit her tongue. Chiqy saw it and smiled.

“Good. You’re a quick learner,” he said. “You can talk.”

“No sleepy shot,” she pleaded.

“Okay, we’ll try it clean. But if you…struggle, it’s the needle for you. Understand?”

Sarah nodded. Chiqy, a satisfied smile on his face, nodded back and stepped out, pulling the curtain closed behind him.

Not knowing how long she had, Sarah looked around desperately, trying to take stock of her situation. She was still wearing her jeans and teal top, which suggested nothing had been done to her yet. She checked her pockets for her phone, change purse, and ID but they were all gone. No shock there.

A loud female groan from somewhere nearby snapped her out of her numbness and she felt something approaching panic seep in. She welcomed it as it came with a jolt of adrenaline that sharpened her mind and gave her greater control over her limbs.

Think, Sarah, while you still can. You’ve been gone awhile. People are looking for you. There is no way Mom and Dad would wait this long for you to get in touch without calling the cops. If they’re looking for you, you have to give them some kind of clue, something to let them know you were here, in case something happens.

She glanced down at her shirt. Had she told her mom what she was wearing today? No, but she had FaceTimed with her this morning so she’d seen her outfit. She’d remember it for sure. After all, they’d bought it together at the Cabazon outlet mall.

She reached down and tore off a strip about two inches long at the seam near the waist, where it was weakest. She was debating where to leave it when she heard two male voices approaching. Just as the curtain was yanked open again, she shoved the fabric under the mattress so that only a small piece was visible.

Trying to act as casual as possible, she looked over at the men. One was Chiqy. The other was a short white guy in his forties, wearing a suit and tie. He had on glasses, which he took off and placed on top of his shoes after he slid them off and placed them near the curtain.

“How old is she?” he asked.

“Sixteen,” Chiqy answered.

“A little mature for my taste but she will most definitely do,” he said as he approached the mattress.

“Remember what I told you,” Chiqy warned her.

She nodded. He seemed satisfied and started to head off when the man said, “A little privacy please.”

Chiqy reluctantly pulled the curtain closed. The man stood over her and stared down, his eyes wandering everywhere. She felt ill.

He began to undress and Sarah used the time to decide her next move. She wasn’t going to let this happen. Of that she was sure. If they killed her so be it. But she was not going to end up some sex slave. She just had to wait for an opening.

It didn’t take long.

The man had taken off his pants and boxers and was crawling toward her. He was squinting slightly and she could tell that without his glasses, he was slightly uncertain. Soon he was right above her on his hands and knees.

No time like the present.

In one swift motion, Sarah brought her right leg up to her chest and thrust her foot forward, slamming the ball of her shoe into the man’s crotch. He immediately grunted and collapsed on top of her.

She had been expecting that and rolled his crumpled torso off her. Then she scurried to her feet and hurried to the curtain. The man was behind her moaning and trying to speak. She poked her head out and looked around.

At the far end of the warehouse, she saw the main door. But between her location and freedom were countless occupied mattresses and at least half a dozen men walking around, keeping tabs on things. There was no way she could make it that far.

But maybe she could find a back door if she kept in the shadows close to the wall. She was about to step out when she heard the man’s voice, strangled and pained, but clear.

“Help!”

She was out of time. Stepping out from behind the curtain, she dashed to the left, looking for anything that resembled a door. She made it about twenty feet before a guy appeared, blocking her path.

She spun around and started in the other direction but ran directly into Chiqy, who wrapped a huge arm around her. She could barely move.

Several feet away, she saw the man who’d been wearing the suit. He was doubled over, but standing up. He was still pantsless. Reaching up his hand, he pointed at her.

“I want her for half-price after this.”

Sarah saw Chiqy pull something from his pocket and realized what it was – a syringe. She tried to break free but it was no use. She felt a sharp prick in her arm.

“I warned you we’d have to use the sleepy shot if you were bad,” he said, sounding almost apologetic.

She sensed his grip loosening but realized that it was only because she was losing all muscle control. Chiqy felt it too and let her go. By the time she slumped to the floor, she was completely unconscious.

CHAPTER FIVE

Keri was jumpy and nervous as she sat in the waiting room of the Fox Hills Mall security office. For the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes the same thought went through her head: this is taking too long.

One of the security guards was searching for footage of the food court from around 2 p.m., when Lanie had posted her last Instagram photo. It was taking forever, either because the system was old or the guard was inept.

Ray sat in the chair beside her, chowing down on a chicken wrap he’d picked up when they had visited the food court. Keri’s wrap sat in her lap, mostly untouched.

Despite the fact that it was 6:30 and the girls had only been out of touch for about four and a half hours, Keri had the creeping sensation that something was very off with this case, even if she didn’t yet have the evidence to prove it.

“Do you have to swallow that thing all in one go?” she asked Ray sourly.

He stopped in mid-chew and gave her a quizzical look before asking, with his mouth full, “What’s eating you?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t yell at you. I’m just frustrated that this is taking so long. If these girls really were abducted, all this fiddling about is wasting valuable time.”

“Let’s give the guy two more minutes. If he doesn’t have it by then, we’ll bring down the hammer. Fair?”

“Fair,” Keri replied and took a small bite of her wrap.

“I know you’re annoyed about this,” Ray said, “but there is clearly something else going on with you. I think it has to do with whatever you were holding back at the station. We’ve got a little time now. So fill me in.”

Keri looked at him and could tell that even with the piece of lettuce in his teeth making him look ridiculous, he wasn’t joking around.

You’re closer to this man than anyone else in the world. He deserves to know. Just tell him.

“Okay,” she said. “Hold on though.”

She pulled out the small bug and camera detector she’d been keeping in her purse and motioned for Ray to follow her into the hall.

The contraption was recommended to her by a security and surveillance expert she’d once helped out on a case. He said that it was a good combination of portability, reliability, and decent price, and so far, he seemed to be right.

In the weeks since the lawyer Jackson Cave hinted that he’d be keeping close tabs on her, she’d found several eavesdropping devices. One bug had been put in the lamp on her office desk. She suspected a member of the cleaning staff had been bribed to place it there.

She had also found both a camera and an audio bug in her new apartment. The bug was in the living room and the camera had been set up in the bedroom. She had also found a bug inside her car’s steering wheel and another in the sun visor of Ray’s car.

Edgerton had added extra protections on her office desktop to specifically hunt for tracking software. So far, nothing had been discovered. But she played it safe and avoided using it for anything other than official business.

Her cell phone was clean so far, probably because it never left her side. It was the only device through which she’d communicated with the Collector and was therefore the one she was most protective of.

When they reached the hall, Keri swiped herself, then Ray. She pointed to his phone. He held it out and she swiped it as well.

Ray had been through this routine many times before in the last few weeks. He was initially resistant but after Keri discovered the bug in his car, he no longer balked. In fact, he’d wanted to rip it and all the others out of their locations.

She had pleaded with him to leave them in place and act like everything was normal. If Cave knew they were on to him, he’d suspect that they knew about the Collector and he might warn him to run.

Cave was already suspicious that Keri was the one who had stolen his files with dossiers on different abductors for hire. But he couldn’t be sure of that. Even if he was, he didn’t know how much Keri had discovered about his secret connections to this dark underworld or whether she had him under surveillance too. So he obviously didn’t want to risk incriminating himself by contacting the Collector if he could possibly avoid it.

He believed they were in a surveillance stalemate. And considering that Jackson Cave had a lot more information than Keri did right now, she was pretty happy with that arrangement.

She had promised Ray that when allowing the bugs to stay in place became counterproductive, she’d get rid of them, even if it tipped Cave off. They even had a code phrase that meant it was time to dump them. It was “Bondi Beach,” a reference to a beach in Australia that Keri one day hoped to visit. If she said those words, Ray would know he could finally rip the device out of his visor.

“Satisfied?” he asked when she’d finished sweeping them both thoroughly.

“Yes, sorry. Listen, I got an email from our friend this morning,” she said, choosing to be cryptic about the Collector even when she was sure they weren’t being listened to. “He hinted that he’d be reaching out. I guess I’m just a little on edge. Every time my phone buzzes, I think it’s him.”

“Did he give you any kind of timetable?” Ray asked.

“No. He just said he’d be in touch soon; nothing beyond that.”

“No wonder you’re so agitated. I thought you were just overreacting to this case.”

Keri felt the heat rise in her cheeks and stared silently at her partner, stunned at his comment. Ray seemed to know immediately that he’d gone too far and was about to try to clean it up when the security guard called out from the computer room.

“I’ve got something,” he yelled.

“You are so lucky right now,” Keri hissed angrily, storming ahead of Ray, who gave her a wide berth.

When they entered the computer room, the guard had the video footage cued up to 2:05 p.m. Sarah and Lanie were clearly visible sitting at a small table in the center of the dining area. They saw Lanie take a picture of her food with her phone, almost certainly part of the post Edgerton had found on Instagram.

After about two minutes, a tall, dark-haired guy covered in tattoos approached them. He gave Lanie a long kiss and after a few more minutes of chatting, they all got up and left.

The guard froze the image and turned to face Keri and Ray. Keri looked at the guard closely for the first time. He wore a nametag that read “Keith” and couldn’t have been more than twenty-three, with greasy, pimply skin and a hunched-over back that made him look like a scrawny Quasimodo. She pretended not to notice it as he spoke.

“I got a few solid screen grabs of the guy’s face. I put them on digital files and I can send them to your phones too if you like.”

Ray gave Keri a look that said “maybe this guy isn’t so incompetent after all” but shut it down when she glared back at him, still pissed about his “overreaction” remark.

“That would be great,” he said, turning his attention back to the guard. “Were you able to track where they went?”

“I was,” Keith said proudly and spun around to face the screen again. He switched to a different screen that showed the guy’s movements throughout the mall, as well as those of Sarah and Lanie. They culminated with them all getting into a Trans Am and leaving the parking lot, headed in a general northbound direction.

“I tried to get the license plates on the car but all our cameras are mounted too high to see anything like that.”

“That’s okay,” Keri said. “You did really well, Keith. I’m going to give you our cell numbers for those screen grabs. I’d also like you to send them to one of our colleagues at the station so he can run facial recognition.”

“Of course,” Keith said. “I’ll do that right away. Also, I was wondering if I could ask a favor?”

Keri and Ray exchanged skeptical glances but she nodded anyway. Keith continued hesitantly.

“I’ve been planning to apply to the police academy. But I’ve held off because I don’t think I’m ready for the physical requirements yet. I was wondering if, when all this settles down, I could pick your brains for some suggestions on how to improve my chances of getting in and actually graduating?”

“Is that all?” Keri asked, pulling out a business card out and handing it to him. “Call this pituitary case over here for the physical advice. You can call me when you need some help with the mental part of the job. And one more thing. If you have to wear a nametag for work, get one with your last name on it. It’s more intimidating.”

Then she walked out, leaving Ray to mop up. He deserved it.

Back out in the hall, she texted the screen grabs of the guy to both Joanie Hart and the Caldwells, asking if either recognized him. A moment later, Ray stepped out to join her. He looked sheepish.

“Listen, Keri. I shouldn’t have said you were overreacting. Clearly there’s something going on here.”

“Is that an apology? Because I didn’t hear the words ‘I’m sorry’ anywhere in there. And while we’re at it, haven’t there been enough cases that looked like nothing to everyone but me which turned out to be something for you to give me the benefit of the doubt?”

“Yeah, but what about all the cases…?” he started to say, then thought better of it and stopped himself mid-sentence. “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” Keri replied, choosing to ignore the first part of his comment and focus on the second.

Her phone buzzed and she looked down with anticipation. But instead of an email from the Collector, it was a text from Joanie Hart. It was brief and to the point: “never seen this guy.”

She showed it to Ray, shaking her head at the depths of the woman’s apparent ambivalence toward her daughter’s well-being. Just then the phone rang. It was Mariela Caldwell.

“Hi, Mrs. Caldwell. This is Detective Locke.”

На страницу:
3 из 4