Stolen Hearts

by Marci Bolden

  He let her words sink in before nodding. “Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, he pushed it and some of his guilt out with it. “Let’s eat before the neighborhood is overtaken by ghouls.”

  She enthusiastically dug into her dinner, groaning her appreciation. Dean suspected her excitement over the meal was her way of distracting him, but it didn’t work. Nor did her stories of Halloweens past. Usually he was enthralled by her stories; he loved learning about her, especially when her eyes lit with happiness from days long gone. Tonight, however, her story of dressing up like the ass end of a unicorn while Lanie got to be the head barely registered in his ears.

  She might be convinced that he’d done everything he could to help Mandy, but he wasn’t. So long as the bastards who’d turned her into a prostitute were out there, he hadn’t done nearly enough. He did his best to laugh when Alexa did and nod when she paused and keep his mouth full of pork and potato so he didn’t have to say much, but when she finished eating, she sat back and frowned at him.

  “Dean. Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

  He pushed his plate back and rested his forearms on the table. “What you said…about Mandy having to choose to stay sober once she’s out of rehab.” He exhaled heavily. “This isn’t over, is it?”

  She shook her head. “It may never be over, honey. She’s got a long road ahead of her, and she’s going to have to be very careful of the path she takes.”

  “For some reason I thought this would end once she got clean.”

  Resting her hand on his forearm, she whispered, “This is just the beginning.”

  Dean glanced at his watch. “We better get this cleaned up so I can change into my costume.” Leaning to her, he kissed her lips. “This is our first holiday together. I don’t want to dwell on Mandy’s problems.”

  The bright smile that crossed Alexa’s face was enough to lift his spirits from the darkness. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. Our first holiday together. I like that.” She batted his hand away when he reached for her plate. “I’ll take care of this. You go change. I want to get a few pictures before kids start showing up.”

  He left her to clear the table as he rushed into his room and put on the costume he’d put together. He was buttoning up his black shirt when she walked in and dropped her bags on his bed.

  “I brought makeup. The undead don’t have such nice tans.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into the bathroom and pried the top off a bottle before using a sponge to dab the pale color over his forehead, nose, and cheeks. Then she focused on his forehead again. When she stepped aside, his reflection was like hers—pale with an exaggerated widow’s peak.

  “We look amazing,” she said, her smile still giddy.

  “You are amazing.” He pulled her against his side.

  “Oh! I brought fake blood. Hang on.” She disappeared for a few seconds before rushing back to his side and focusing intently as she squeezed a bit of cold liquid at the corners of his mouth and then did the same to hers.

  Hearing her laugh at her handiwork made him smile, too. Other than that time he and his friends conspired to go as different members of The Breakfast Club, he’d never seen the appeal of having paired costumes, but looking at the woman at his side, both looking like bad recreations of Dracula, he got it. He seemed to be getting a lot of things these days that he’d missed in the past.

  Her eyes widened when the doorbell chimed through the house. “Oh my gosh! They’re starting already?”

  “Go.” Dean nodded toward the bathroom door. “I gotta get my shoes on. I’ll be right there.”

  She darted from the room, rushing toward where the kids were waiting for their treats. He looked at his reflection, listening as her voice carried through the house, calling out for the kids to hang on one second. Though he knew he shouldn’t, he headed straight for her briefcase and reached inside, his hearing tuned in to Alexa’s movements on the other side of the house.

  As she opened the door and cooed at the costumes, he pulled out the little red notebook. His fingers trembled as he flipped through the pages until he got to the last of the notes she’d made in her precise handwriting and, as he’d suspected, underlined twice.

  Online. #d4dank. Any platform.

  He snapped a picture and replaced the notebook. He slid his feet into his shoes and headed toward the door, where Alexa was handing out treats. He’d deal with Darrin the druggie later, but not too much later. If she’d already given this information to the cops, they’d be planning a bust.

  Dean intended to get to the fucker first.

  15

  Once again, the reports Alexa needed to finish filling out took a back seat. This time to smiling at the photos on her phone. She’d taken about a dozen selfies with Dean in their vampire costumes, hamming it up. A few were sweet, like the one where he had his pale and bloodied lips pressed to her cheek. But most, like the one where he dipped her down and opened his mouth wide as if he were about to bite her neck, were hilarious.

  “That’s some smile,” Rene said, coming into Alexa’s office.

  She turned her phone to share the image on the screen. “We had so much fun last night.”

  “I’m sure he’s relieved to know his sister is off to rehab.”

  Alexa nodded. “The social worker called this morning to let him know she’d dropped Mandy off at a safe but undisclosed location. Dean can expect a few updates, but for the most part, this is out of his hands now. And I can tell you that I, for one, am so happy about that. He needs a break from all this stress.”

  Rene smiled. “You should take a weekend away. Just the two of you.”

  Alexa widened her eyes. “That is a fantastic idea. I love it. I’m going to talk to him about that tonight.” Sitting back in her chair, she laughed slightly. “Is it crazy to be this happy when really I barely know the guy?”

  “Maybe. Probably. But we live in an incredibly ugly world, Lex. Take your happiness where you can find it.”

  “Well. That’s gloomy.”

  “That’s realistic.”

  Again, Rene seemed to put off an air of stress and depression that wasn’t like her. “Everything okay with you?” Alexa asked.

  “This case I’m working on—”

  “Not your case. You.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You haven’t been fine in the year that I’ve known you.”

  Rene smiled. “That’s nice.” Dropping into the seat across from Alexa, she grabbed the reports. “What about you? You’ve been working on these for days. You’re usually more efficient than this.”

  “Well…I’m having sex now.” She waited for Rene’s reaction, smiling when the other woman lifted a brow in surprise. “I was working on these the other day when Holly distracted me with alcohol. Yesterday I spent the morning prying information out of Mandy, the afternoon giving the information to the police, and the evening handing out candy. I’ll get them done today.”

  “Did she actually give you any information?”

  “Yeah. Surprisingly, she did. She found this guy online. Social media at its finest.” Grabbing her notebook, she flipped through the pages. “A hashtag. That’s all it took for her to…”

  “What?”

  Alexa touched the smudge of pale makeup. The makeup she’d used to cover Dean’s tan. “The page with my notes on how to find the dealer who lured Mandy in has costume makeup all over it.” She eyed her teammate. “There’s only one person who could have—would have—looked at it.”

  “Dean.”

  “Dean.”

  “Get him on the phone before he does something stupid,” Rene warned.

  Alexa forcefully tapped her cell phone screen but wasn’t surprised when her call went straight to voice mail. She was, however, even more alarmed. Her calls never went straight to voice mail. Dean always answered. “You call me the moment you get this,” she stated angrily. Closing her eyes, she swallowed and forced her voice to soften. “Dean. Let the police handle this dealer. Please. Call me.
” She gnawed at her lip for a moment before meeting Rene’s gaze. “He is not a fighter. He’s not equipped to confront this kind of criminal.”

  “Do you really think he would?”

  Alexa closed her eyes, recalling the moment he’d stood in his kitchen, looking so angry as he clutched a knife in his hand as she explained she’d handed the matter to the police. He wasn’t angry at her; she hadn’t been concerned about that. She hadn’t even been concerned that he’d do something this stupid. She’d been more concerned about the anger eating away at him and what that would do to his mental health. Guilt had a way of taking root and making the family members of survivors blame themselves. She didn’t want that for him, not when he’d done so much to help Mandy.

  She should have known. She should have seen through his anger to the real issue. She should have realized he wanted revenge for what his sister had been through. This wasn’t a schoolyard fight, and this wasn’t a bully he was going up against.

  Alexa didn’t know with any certainty that Darrin was a hardened gun-carrying criminal, but she highly doubted this man was a hippie growing pot in his basement and selling it to pay his rent. She suspected Darrin was just one part of a well-oiled, big-money machine. He was just the first step on a long path that led innocent young women from dabbling in drugs to being hardcore addicts willing to sell their bodies for their next hit.

  No, this was no petty crime being committed here. And Dean was nowhere near trained enough to deal with what he would face if he tried to confront the people running a human trafficking ring.

  Rushing through her door, she screamed, “Sam! I need you!”

  She reached Sam’s desk, ignoring the questions of her teammate as to what was going on. Skidding to a stop in front of Sam, she demanded, “I need you to hack into Dean’s social media. I think he set up a meeting with Mandy’s dealer.”

  “Jesus,” Holly breathed from her side.

  Alexa hadn’t even seen Holly approach. “The notes from my meeting with Mandy are covered in makeup. The makeup I put on him for Halloween.”

  “Maybe it’s yours,” Holly suggested.

  “I haven’t opened those notes since leaving the jail. He had to have read them.”

  Sam started pecking away at her keyboard. “You’re going to have to give me some time, Lex. I can’t just walk in.”

  “Are you sure?” Holly pressed.

  “Track his cell phone,” Rene suggested. “That’ll be faster, right?”

  Sam continued clicking. “Only if he has it on. Phone number?”

  Alexa opened her phone and found his contact information before rattling it off.

  An arm—she didn’t know whose—wrapped around her shoulders, and she nearly crumbled at the thought that she’d been so careless. Reason one thousand and one why she shouldn’t have gotten involved with a client. He never would have gotten access to this information if she hadn’t been in such a hurry to get to him, to be with him, to go about their evening like everything was perfectly fine. Nothing was fine. He’d been raging about his sister’s disappearance, about the abuse she’d faced, about the lack of care this man had for her well-being. And Alexa had dangled the man right in front of Dean’s face.

  “Got him,” Sam said. “He’s on the west side. Still moving.”

  “Let’s go get him,” Holly said. They didn’t head for the front door, though. They all headed for their offices—their weapons. No one was going to say it, but they all knew Dean could be walking into a really bad situation.

  The code Mandy had given them could have been a tip-off for Darrin. Using the hashtag could have been a warning to the dealer. This was why Alexa had handed the case to the police. This was why she was letting them handle taking Darrin down.

  Damn it. If Dean got out of this unscathed, she was going to beat some sense into his rock-hard skull. With a gun on one hip and pepper spray on the other, Alexa met Holly and Rene in the lobby.

  “I’ll call you from the car,” Holly said to Sam. “Don’t take your eyes off him until you hear from us.”

  “Should I call the cops?” Sam asked.

  “We don’t know anything yet,” Rene answered. “He may just be making a coffee run.”

  Not likely. There was a coffee shop two blocks from his house that had the medium roast he preferred. He was over ten miles away. And not answering his phone.

  “Try him again,” Holly suggested as she started her car.

  Alexa slammed the passenger door shut and grabbed her seat belt with one hand, all while tapping her phone with the other. Holly had peeled out of her parking spot and headed toward the west side of town before Alexa gave up. “He’s still not answering. Damn him.”

  She let out a heavy breath as she looked out the window, her mind filling with worry.

  “This isn’t your fault,” Rene offered from the back seat, seeming to know what Alexa was thinking.

  “I should have locked my bag in the trunk before I went in.”

  “You don’t know for certain he looked at your notes.”

  “I do,” she stated. “I saw his face when I told him I’d turned this over to the cops. He wanted revenge, not justice.”

  “You can’t blame him,” Rene said. “Not really.”

  “We’re not in the business of revenge,” Holly reminded her.

  “We’re not. But the big brother of a girl who’s been sold like meat on the market for the last few months has the right to be.”

  Alexa watched Holly cast a disapproving frown at Rene.

  “I should have known better,” Alexa said, bringing the focus back to her lapse in judgment. She preferred that over the exchange of words between her teammates that was about to erupt. Holly was a straight-arrow, by-the-law type. Rene was a bit more flexible at times. She understood the human emotion behind actions better than Holly.

  But Alexa wasn’t interested in either take on the issue. She just wanted to get to Dean and make sure he was safe.

  Maybe Rene was right. Maybe he was out running errands and all this drama was for naught. But somehow she didn’t believe that. “Call Sam,” she said by means of offering another distraction.

  Sam’s voice came over the speaker. “He’s still on the move.” She rattled off the cross streets closest to his location as Alexa tried to call him again.

  This time when he didn’t answer, Alexa texted him. Call me. Now. She held her phone, staring at the screen. No response.

  Dean. Do not put yourself in danger. That won’t help Mandy.

  Her phone remained silent. Damn it.

  Dean had silenced his phone for a reason. As they’d sipped coffee at the kitchen counter, he’d asked Alexa what was on her agenda for the day. She’d smiled as she answered she had to finish the report on Mandy’s case and then planned to take the afternoon off. She’d asked if he wanted to meet for a late lunch.

  He’d lied. He hated it, but he’d lied. He said he couldn’t because he had to catch up on a huge project. He took his lie another step and suggested, without saying it, that he wouldn’t see her until the next day.

  She hadn’t seemed offended. It wasn’t like they were living together or were in a serious relationship. She seemed to take his unspoken suggestion in stride, noting that her grandmother had been complaining about how much time had passed since the last time Alexa had sat with her through dinner. That led Alexa to invite him to meet the woman whose cooking he had grown to adore.

  The conversation flowed like so many before—easy and with a familiarity that reminded him how lucky he was to have found her. After he’d kissed her and walked her to the door, Dean had taken his betrayal of her trust to the next level.

  He’d dropped into his office chair, turned on his computer, and opened his Internet browser. Then he’d made contact with Mandy’s drug dealer. By the time he’d showered and dressed, the bastard had replied, asking what he was interested in. Dean, God forgive him, had used the only drug-buying story he could think of—he’d told the man tha
t his mother was suffering from the side effects of chemotherapy and the doctor refused to give her medicinal marijuana. He didn’t know what he needed, or how much, or anything, really. He just knew he needed something to help his poor, sick mother.

  Dean felt queasy using his mother’s illness like that, but he really didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t know how to buy drugs any more now than he had when his mother really had needed the pot to take the edge off her symptoms. The likelihood of the man meeting him if he’d pointed out that he just wanted to bash his face in for prostituting his sister wasn’t very high. So he’d used his mom and spent the drive to meet Darrin to convince himself that she would approve.

  Darrin had bought it. He offered his sympathies and told Dean he had something to help. Dean played up his desperation, begging to meet the man as soon as possible. Then paced and tried to tell himself how stupid this was for the next two hours. Finally, when it was time to leave to meet Darrin, Dean looked at his phone, considering that he should call Alexa and confess everything.

  But then he thought about Mandy and all she’d been through and turned the sound off on his phone.

  He cared about Alexa—so much so that it scared him if he spent too much time thinking about how little he knew about her—but he’d let her fight his fight long enough. He’d needed her help to find Mandy. It was up to him to avenge what had been done to her. He didn’t have to guess what Alexa would say to that. Hell, she’d already said it. She’d warned him more than once the day before to let the police handle things now. Mandy was safe, and Alexa thought that was what Dean should focus on. But he couldn’t.

  He wasn’t a violent guy, but this piece of shit had abused his sister, and Dean wasn’t just going to walk away from that. He just hoped Alexa would bail his ass out of jail when he got done giving Darrin a taste of what the prick deserved.

  Pulling into the mall parking lot, Dean circled, following the signs to where Darrin had suggested they meet. One of the bigger stores in the building had a huge parking lot. Dean needed to go to the row directly aligned with the main entrance of the store and park as far from the building as he could. From there, he just needed to sit and wait for Darrin.