Stolen Hearts

by Marci Bolden

  That was all it was.

  “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “Sorry. I should have called.”

  He stepped aside and let her in. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the trio of wooden pumpkins sitting in the entryway. She followed him into the house, stopping in the entrance to the living room.

  “You’re decorating?” she asked.

  He ran his hand over his hair in that way that seemed to indicate he was nervous or upset. “I couldn’t focus on work today. I just… I promised I’d be better at this brother thing when Mandy comes home, but waiting until she gets home seems pointless, doesn’t it?” Looking at Alexa, he seemed to be seeking her approval. “I should start working on that now, don’t you think?”

  “Dean, you’re doing everything you can to find her. You’re an amazing brother. Don’t let this make you doubt that.”

  “I didn’t decorate for Christmas last year.”

  She didn’t quite understand his fixation on that perceived failure, but she was more than aware that stress didn’t always present in the most logical way. When Lanie first went missing, her mother was determined to have her favorite meal at the ready upon her return. Mami must have made a thousand tamales. More than they could ever eat. She’d hide in the kitchen for hours rolling masa and shredded pork into dried corn husks.

  Walking to a box of decorations, Alexa smiled at the foot-tall Frankenstein’s monster she pulled out. He didn’t look nearly as frightening as the book portrayed. This guy had lopsided eyes and a big smile painted across his face. The friendliest monster Alexa had ever seen.

  “Mandy used to scare easily,” Dean explained. “Mom made sure Halloween was silly around here.”

  “Not everyone enjoys being spooked.” She set the decoration back into the box.

  Holding up two bags of Easter eggs, he twisted his mouth. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with these. Mom bought them. Maybe she just tucked them in the wrong box.”

  “She was probably going to use those to hand out candy.” She smiled at the confusion on his face. “You put candy inside and draw faces on them. Like pumpkins on the orange ones or witches on the green. It’s just a different way for the kids to choose what they want instead of picking based on the candy inside.”

  He looked at the bags. “Huh. Seems like a lot of trouble to give away a chocolate bar.”

  “Sometimes the anticipation is half the fun.”

  Tossing the eggs back into the box, he let out a long, dramatic breath. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. I thought this would distract me.”

  Setting the envelope on the table next to the box, Alexa grabbed the eggs. “Bring me a marker.”

  She had the bag opened when he offered her a black permanent marker. She didn’t have the best drawing abilities, but by the time she finished marking the blue egg in her hand, the face distinctly belonged to a vampire. She turned it to him, smiling. “See? Kids get a kick out of this stuff.” Selecting a green egg, she drew a face like the Frankenstein’s monster decoration. “Then you put little candies inside. When the kids come for trick-or-treat, you’ll have a bowlful of fun little treats. You’ll be the most popular house on the block.”

  He snorted. “Fat chance. The Kingmans two houses over give away full-size Snickers every year.”

  She frowned and let her shoulders stoop. “Those inconsiderate jerks.”

  “Yup. Every kid for miles around knows to hit that place up.”

  “We could break in and replace their stash with little tubes of toothpaste. That would ruin their Halloween cred real quick.”

  He chuckled. “That’s not a bad idea.”

  She liked his smile so much more than his sulking. Not that he didn’t have plenty to sulk about. Which reminded her that she was there to add to the list. She couldn’t bring herself to do ruin this moment. She wasn’t ready to add more stress to his already long list. Glancing at her watch, she confirmed she had a few hours before Jack wanted everyone at the office. Ignoring her reason for showing up at Dean’s house, she reached into the box of decorations. “Did your mom have a certain place she put things every year, or did she change it up?”

  “She just put things wherever she put them.”

  “That makes it easier.” Holding up a wall hanging, she read over the poem and smiled at the raven painted in the corner. “Front door?”

  He hesitated before nodding and taking the sign. As he returned, she was lining three burlap pumpkins on his mantle. He helped her string skeleton lights over his front window and then climbed on a short ladder to pin several bats to the ceiling in the entryway. She stood back, not wanting to get stepped on when he hopped down. The fact that the added height put his denim-clad bottom right in her face wasn’t lost on her. Rather than check out his backside, Alexa turned her attention to setting several wooden statues around the fireplace.

  When they finished, his home was spectacularly decked out for the holiday. Folding the ladder, he set it aside and joined her in the middle of the room to look around. His little laugh sounded of amazement.

  “Mom would approve,” he announced.

  The warmth in his tone reached Alexa’s heart. “Good. I’m glad.”

  “Mandy would too, I think.”

  “Well, it is my goal to bring her home in time to get that approval.”

  “Good goal,” he said.

  “Have you talked to David?” she asked.

  Dean shook his head. “I left him a message. He hasn’t called me back. That’s not unusual. We aren’t exactly close.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” he said. “I’m not worried about it. Do you want coffee?”

  “Sure.”

  As he carried the ladder back to the kitchen, Alexa sealed the now-empty box and frowned at the envelope she’d left on the table. She couldn’t avoid it forever. At some point, she had to shatter this poor man’s heart. Taking the photos, she followed him into the kitchen.

  He glanced over his shoulder and then returned his focus to pulling the top off the canister of coffee grounds. “I’m guessing you didn’t pop in to help me decorate. What’s up?”

  Taking what had somehow become her seat at the counter, she bit her lip and focused on the envelope in her hand. “Sometimes when people get caught up in drugs, they inadvertently get caught up in other things, too. Whether it’s because their judgment gets flawed or their addictions get the better of them and they can’t find a better way. Sometimes they make choices that we can’t fully understand. And sometimes they get pulled into things without realizing or…maybe they get in with the wrong person who takes advantage, or—”

  “Alexa?”

  She hadn’t realized he’d stopped messing with the coffee and had crossed the kitchen to stand on the other side of the counter from her. When she looked up at him, her stomach tightened with dread.

  “Did you find Mandy?” he pressed.

  “No, but…”

  “But what?”

  “I asked one of my teammates to search for images of her online. On certain types of sites. Sites where women sometimes…”

  Impatience and irritation flickered across his face. “What?”

  “It isn’t uncommon for drug addicts to…”

  “For fuck’s sake,” he snapped. “Spit it out.”

  She held his gaze. “Dean, I need you to look at some photos of a prostitute and confirm if it’s your sister.”

  His gaze lowered to the envelope she held out to him and then looked back to her. She thought she could actually see his spirits sink.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  Snagging the envelope, he ripped it open and reached inside. He didn’t pull the pictures out, though. He closed his eyes tight, took three big, deep breaths, and then looked at Alexa. “Do you think it’s her?”

  Swallowing the knot building in her throat, she nodded. “Yes. I do.”

  He slid the pictures out, and the choked sound that le
ft his throat was all the answer she needed. The underweight girl in the picture wearing just enough clothing to cover her most intimate parts was his sister. Her short dark hair was unkempt. Some men might even find her stoned, messy appearance sexy, but Dean looked like he was going to be sick.

  Alexa didn’t have to ask why. She’d memorized the photo Sam had found in her search of the Dark Web. Mandy’s pimp had several girls who looked just like her. Too thin, eyes glazed, doing their best to look alluring for the camera to tempt someone into paying them for sex. Money they would then give to the man in charge of everything, from what and when they ate to when and where they had sex for money in exchange for supplying them with their drug of choice.

  Pushing the pictures aside, without even looking at the other images, he turned his back to Alexa. “Where is she?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

  “This listing was in Chicago, but…”

  Facing her, he questioned her with his eyes.

  She tried to swallow, but her mouth was dry. “I’m trying to find… Depending on…”

  “Alexa. Jesus, just tell me.”

  “Pimps tend to sell and trade their girls frequently to shake things up for their clientele. These pictures were taken two weeks ago. Now that you’ve confirmed it’s Mandy, I’m going to reach out to a human trafficking unit in the area and ask for their assistance in locating her.”

  “Human…trafficking?”

  “She isn’t doing this to herself, Dean. She’s being sold. And from her appearance, the weight loss and dilated pupils, she’s either being forced into it for drugs or she’s being kept so stoned she doesn’t fully comprehend what is happening to her.”

  “Someone out there is…selling my sister?”

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

  Dean turned his back to Alexa again. She sat silently, waiting for the inevitable wrecking ball of emotion to hit him. She wasn’t sure what form that would take—crying, screaming, raw rage—but she didn’t doubt it was coming. He’d just seen photographic evidence that his little sister was a drugged-out prostitute. Most likely because of the man who had listed her on a website like she was a piece of furniture for sale instead of a living, breathing nineteen-year-old girl.

  “What the fucking hell?” he screamed. Raking his fingers through his hair, he heaved a few breaths before crossing the kitchen. Swiping his arm across the counter, he cleared it of the coffee pot and canister of grounds. Both crashed to the floor with a deafening collision. Glass and plastic shattered. He dug his fingers into his hair and turned to face Alexa. The soul-crushing pain in his eyes broke her heart. “Don’t say it,” he warned. “Don’t you dare tell me how fucking sorry you are.”

  She didn’t take his anger personally. His rage wasn’t directed at her. She knew that, but he must not have realized.

  He dropped his hands and exhaled. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know,” she stated. “This isn’t what you had hoped to learn. But we are one step closer to finding her, Dean.”

  He rested one hand on his hip and pressed the other to his mouth. After several long seconds, he blew out his breath. “Could you leave? Please.”

  She opened her mouth. The last thing she wanted was for him to process this alone.

  “Please. Alexa. I need you to go. Take those fucking pictures with you.”

  Grabbing the envelope, she stood and tried to gauge him. She didn’t want to leave him, but she had no right to stay when he didn’t want her to. “You have my cell number. Call me if you need me.”

  She paused, hoping he’d change his mind, but he didn’t. She left him standing there. Closing the front door behind her, she read the sign and muttered, “Double, double, toil and trouble, indeed.”

  The drive back to the HEARTS office didn’t ease her stress much. When she walked in, she frowned at Sam. “Dean confirmed the girl’s identity. You found her.”

  “Oh no. How’d he take it?”

  “About how any brother would take finding out his sister is being sold on the open market.” Glancing at her watch, she checked the time. “Everyone’s here?” she whispered.

  Sam smiled and rubbed her hands together. “Jack is on his way.”

  Okay. That lifted Alexa’s spirits. Walking into her office, she put the printed photos of Mandy into a file and dropped behind her desk. She’d been nearly one hundred percent certain of the identity of the woman in the photo, so she’d already located the number of an official in Chicago. She made the call and then sat back and waited for an answer so she could get the ball rolling on pinning down which sleazeball of a pimp was selling Dean’s sister.

  Dean didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to Alexa’s news. He did know he hadn’t responded in the most effective way. He should have set his emotions aside and pushed Alexa for more information and her plan to locate the asshole taking advantage of his baby sister. Breaking his coffee pot and dumping a near-full container of grounds hadn’t been a bit productive. Lashing out at Alexa had been even less so. She was doing her job, and she was damn good at it. She’d been working this case for just over forty-eight hours and had already come closer to Mandy than he’d been in months.

  Of course, he hadn’t been looking in the gutter for his sister. How the hell had she gotten caught up in this? He couldn’t understand it. Her life hadn’t been so bad. Yeah, Mom had expectations of her, but she’d never treated Mandy badly. She had never neglected her or abused her. How did she… How could she…

  Human trafficking?

  He sat at his desk researching the topic, and his stomach turned more and more sour with every website, every news story, every horrific detail he learned. His mind was going a million miles an hour trying to figure out how this had happened to his sister. He still couldn’t make sense of it. This still didn’t seem possible. Maybe that hadn’t been Mandy after all. Maybe he’d seen her in the image because he was so desperate to find her.

  He needed to look at the picture again. He needed to look more closely. He needed to step back from the emotion of it all and really look at that girl. Maybe…maybe she wasn’t Mandy.

  Are you at your office? he texted Alexa.

  Yes. Are you okay?

  Is it okay if I swing by?

  Of course, she immediately responded.

  He drove on autopilot, his mind still rolling over any excuse he could think of to justify why that wasn’t Mandy in the photo and why she couldn’t possibly be selling her body. He’d damn near convinced himself by the time he pulled into the parking lot of the HEARTS office. He stared at the brick building, working up the nerve to go in.

  Not because he was nervous about seeing Alexa, but because deep inside, he knew the moment he told her of his convictions, she’d give him that sympathetic smile as her eyes softened. Then she’d put her hand on his arm and rip the rug right out from under him. She’d tell him the truth he already knew—Mandy had turned to prostitution—and his world would crash around him yet again.

  He was so damned tired of his world crashing around him. He couldn’t remember the last time things had been right, even for a moment. The sound of a car door jolted him from his miserable thoughts.

  A man standing at the car next to him was trying to balance three covered dishes, a long box, and several bags. He was clearly struggling with his load. Shoving his car door open, Dean jumped out. “Need some help?”

  The man grinned. “I need four extra hands.”

  Dean took the precarious packages off the top and focused on the top window of the bakery box. Through the clear plastic, the words Congratulations, Holly and Jack were written in neat script. “Looks like a party is about to start.”

  The man’s eyes widened. “Wait. Who are you?”

  “Dean Campbell. Alexa is helping me find my sister.”

  The stranger offered one of those supportive smiles. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “And you are?” Dean pressed.

  “Josh Simmons. Eva’s better half.
Don’t tell her I said that.”

  Dean laughed softly. “My lips are sealed.”

  Josh shifted the dishes in his hands. “Also, you didn’t see this cake. Holly doesn’t know Jack is going to propose. Actually, nobody does. Except Eva and me. Sam asked us to get the cake. Well, then we had to tell Jack’s mom because she works in a bakery and Eva thought she might be offended if we got a cake from somewhere else. I’m rambling.”

  “A little,” Dean said.

  “I’m nervous. For Jack. I mean… I think Holly will say yes. Eva thinks Holly will say yes. But she might not, and then things will be awkward.”

  Dean nodded. “Probably.”

  “Do you think you could get the door? This stuff is getting a little heavy.” At the front door, Josh stopped and looked at Dean. “Okay, so you don’t know anything about this. This conversation never happened.”

  “I didn’t hear a thing. Oh.” He tilted his head toward the box. “You might want to cover that cake, though.”

  Josh looked down at the red lettering staring up at him. “Shit.”

  Chuckling, Dean put the bags back on top of the cake box and then took it from Josh, who still held the casserole dishes. With one hand securely balancing the cake box, Dean opened the door and let Josh go ahead of him. He greeted Sam as he followed Josh into the conference room. A stack of plates and silverware had been piled in the middle.

  “Won’t she be suspicious of all this?” he whispered.

  Josh eased the dishes down. “Nope. We always have dinner on Fridays.” He put the bags on the table as he looked around. “I gotta hide that cake.” Eyeing a chair in the corner, he took the box from Dean, set it on the seat, and then covered it with his coat. “What do you think?”

  “Nobody will notice unless they’re looking.”

  Josh scowled. “They’re PIs. They’re always looking.” Turning the chair so the back was to the room, he tucked his jacket around it. “Now?”