Kitty Kitty

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  Her face was clammy, and she was staring at me with a green tint to her face.

  “Do you want to stay here?” I asked cautiously.

  She shook her head. “I can puke in a trash can as well as I can in a toilet.”

  My lips twitched as she picked up the bathroom trash, pulled the clear plastic bag out of it, and then set it nicely on the floor before tucking the trash can underneath her arm.

  Seconds later she was picking up her toothpaste—I didn’t realize this, but there really is a wrong way to push toothpaste out of the tube, meaning we had his and her toothpaste tubes—and her toothbrush.

  “Let’s go.”

  We arrived at Lynn’s place fifteen minutes later, the last ones to arrive.

  “Sorry,” I said as I held the door open for Blaise, who was busy puking into her bucket. “But someone decided that morning sickness was a thing for her today.”

  Blaise looked up, her face now even more green.

  “Welcome to the club,” Beckham snickered. “I puked so much while pregnant that it wasn’t even funny. I puked at the smell of clean laundry. I puked at the smell of dirty laundry. I puked at the smell of the washer when it was empty. I puked…”

  “I think we get it,” Six drawled. “You puked a lot. Now let’s find this baby.”

  Lynn grunted and tapped a few buttons on his phone, then sent whatever it was that he had on his computer to a screen that pulled down from the ceiling.

  That’s when I saw the chocolate brown eyes of a little girl with long brown ringlets all over her head.

  “Child missing is a female,” Lynn said. “Stolen from a bathroom at an all-night diner. Parents allowed her to go to the bathroom by herself since they were seated right by the bathroom doors. When she didn’t come out within an allotted amount of time, mom went in to find the little girl gone. Bathroom window the size of a postage stamp was open.”

  “Fuck,” Beckham breathed. “What about the security cameras? Who was in there with her?”

  “I got that,” Hunt said as he wiped his tired eyes before replacing his glasses. “The diner had eight people inside and two on the outside. Three females in the restaurant, and only two went to the bathroom around that time. These two ladies.”

  Hunt pulled up a photo of two ladies. One was an elderly lady with short silver hair curled tightly to her scalp that was using a walker to get around. Her eyes were old, her gait was old, and it was obvious that the woman couldn’t move well.

  So obviously not her.

  But the other woman? The other woman was for sure more than capable of hoisting a three-year-old up and out of a window.

  “Let’s head to the scene,” Lynn suggested. “There’s an incident commander there that can more than answer a few of our questions.”

  That was how we ended up at the scene of the kidnapping, and the shock of a lifetime rolled through me.

  Because it wasn’t just anyone that had her daughter go missing.

  It was someone I knew.

  Granted, it wasn’t someone I really liked, but it was someone I knew nonetheless.

  “Shit,” I said as I caught Blaise’s hand up in mine, squeezing it lightly. “The woman that had a child go missing is Ames.”

  Blaise’s head whipped around so fast that my head spun at her reaction.

  She moaned and clutched her ‘bucket’ tighter.

  Blaise’s mouth fell open and she focused on Ames standing in the middle of the chaos, her face a mask of tears as she cried and screamed. “My baby! Someone please, find my baby!”

  Shortly after Ames’ words rent the air, Blaise threw her hand over her mouth and groaned.

  “How about you go over there,” I suggested, pointing to where there was a calm spot in the parking lot. “You go sit on the curb for a bit, get yourself under control, and listen from there.”

  Blaise sighed then patted my hand. “Thanks.”

  Then she moved away from me.

  “Come on,” Lynn ordered as he arrived with Six. “Let’s go see what we can do to help.”

  I was reluctant to follow, mostly because I didn’t want to upset Ames any more than she already was.

  Hence the reason I stayed on the outskirts, listening intently to the incident commander explain everything that had gone down as far as he knew.

  My heart physically hurt after hearing everything.

  Jesus, that kid had to be terrified right now.

  “Ma’am,” Lynn said. “Where’s your husband? We’d like to talk to him.”

  That’s when she shocked the living hell out of me.

  “He’s at home.” Ames looked away.

  “What?” I asked, unsure if I’d heard her right.

  Her eyes came to me, and they narrowed in anger and disgust.

  My eyes flicked up at an indelicate snort coming from my woman that had wandered closer to hear everything but was still far enough away so that she could discreetly puke in her trash can.

  “He’s at home,” Ames repeated, sounding miffed. “He has to get up early in the morning. And if he doesn’t get a certain amount of sleep at night, his lower body aches.”

  Anger simmered beneath the surface as I looked at Blaise who was looking at Ames with a look of disgust on her face.

  I turned to give my stare back to Ames.

  “He needs to be here,” I said. “No matter if he aches or not.”

  Ames didn’t look away from me.

  “Help me find her, please,” she whispered, a desperate plea in her voice that sent shivers down my spine.

  “I’ll help,” I promised. “Any way that I can.”

  Ames swallowed and looked away, right into the eyes of Blaise.

  “Do you remember the woman from the diner that went into the bathroom at the same time as your daughter?” Blaise asked quietly. “Was she flustered or anything as she came out?”

  That question seemed to stump Ames momentarily.

  “No.” She shook her head. “She was on her phone. Playing Angry Birds, actually. Why?”

  “You were watching that closely?” the incident commander in charge asked. “Why?”

  “Because my husband watched her walk into the bathroom, and I wanted to look at her more closely.” Ames swallowed and looked away.

  “Your husband needs to get here now,” the incident commander demanded. “This is highly unusual that he would think it’s best for him to go home.”

  Ames shrugged. “I stopped trying to control my husband a long time ago. It’s easier.”

  “I’ll send a cruiser,” the commander started.

  Ames held up a hand. “I’ll call him. Get him here.”

  My eyes made contact with Blaise again, who was farther away from us with her bucket huddled close.

  My stomach sank for her.

  When she was finished, she looked up and caught me staring at her.

  She held up a shaky thumbs up, and I nodded once in understanding.

  She would make it through.

  “The first twenty-four hours are critical,” the incident commander continued. “We need to discuss our next step.”

  So that was what we did for the next twenty minutes.

  And for some reason, during the discussion, I forgot all about Blaise.

  That was a mistake.

  CHAPTER 20

  Welcome to adulthood. You get pissed when they rearrange the grocery store.

  -Blaise to Sin

  BLAISE

  We were in the diner’s parking lot with about two hundred volunteers to help in the search, and about seventy-five law enforcement personnel.

  Everyone was listening to the incident commander speak.

  Everyone but me, that was.

  I was on the outskirts of the parking lot.

  Still dry heaving.

  “Baby, give me a break,” I whispered as I patted my belly. “Please.”

  The nausea didn’t lessen, but it did stop long enough for me to draw a much-needed breath.


  Puking was the absolute worst.

  Puking nothing up was a close second.

  I groaned and parked my ass on the massive concrete barrier that surrounded the rather large light pole that’d been erected to light the area.

  The generator that was fueling it was a few feet away, making it nearly impossible to hear anything that was being said across the parking lot.

  But I’d had to back even farther away when people were watching me instead of listening to what was being said by the incident commander, Tatum.

  Officer Briggs had introduced himself to the lot of us and then deftly started back on his work.

  Even in my nauseated state, I couldn’t help but be wowed by his appearance.

  He was tall, built, and captivating.

  His eyes, even though I hadn’t been all that close to get the full effect, held you practically enraptured when he spoke directly to you.

  He had a black ball cap on that was covering his black close-cropped hair, and he was tanned to the point that I had a feeling he spent a lot of time in the sun. That, or he was naturally that tan and he didn’t have to work to maintain it at all.

  But it wasn’t necessarily his looks at all that made me realize he was really good at what he did. It was his confidence that she—Ames’ little girl—would be brought home safely.

  Another wave of nausea rolled through me and I moaned, catching the attention of an elderly woman that was hanging back like me.

  Though, she had seemed to do it the entire time.

  I wasn’t sure if me puking just didn’t bother her or what, but through the course of twenty minutes, she’d slowly gotten closer and closer to me even after I’d moved to get farther away.

  I looked up to see her eyes on me, and she smiled.

  “You’re the woman that helped save that other little girl, aren’t you?” she asked.

  I turned, stomach still roiling, and nodded, smiling slightly. “I am.”

  “You know, you cost me a half mil.” She turned fully then, her walker forgotten, and stared deeply into my eyes.

  “I’m sorry.” I patted my belly, hoping the movement would calm it down. Sadly, it didn’t. “I don’t understand your comment.”

  The elderly woman’s eyes were ice cold as she repeated, “You cost me a half a mil. A half a million dollars. You stole that girl from me, and I had to pay back her buyer.”

  Shock wormed its way through me.

  Then revulsion.

  “It was you, wasn’t it?” I took a step back.

  Ready to run. Ready to scream. Ready to…

  “Don’t move,” she whispered. “I told myself after you cost me that girl, I’d find a way to pay you back. There was your smiling face on that television screen, and I wanted nothing more than to murder you right then and there. All that work I’d gone through, and you did that.”

  Shock.

  I was in utter and complete shock.

  How could this woman do this?

  “Why?” I asked. “How?”

  If I’d been thinking straighter, I would’ve just run. I would’ve done anything in my power to get away before shit went south like it was bound to happen.

  But I didn’t.

  Stupidly, I stayed right where I was and asked questions instead of doing what any other sane person in my predicament would’ve done—run.

  “Get them to trust me.” The woman smiled, explaining exactly the atrocity as if she was explaining quilting and not kidnapping a child. “Who doesn’t trust an elderly grandmother?”

  The thought made me pale.

  She was right.

  If I was lost or scared or alone, I would for sure trust an elderly woman that talked about her grandkids over just about anyone else.

  Sick to my stomach, I tried to surreptitiously look for help, but realized rather quickly that everyone was too engrossed with a ‘possible lead’ and they weren’t looking at me.

  I could see the back of Sin’s head as he leaned over a table and pointed at something, and I could see the side of Lynn’s face as he talked to a cop.

  What I could not see was a single person looking our way.

  A single person but Ames, that was.

  Ames was very much aware of what was going on and where I was.

  When Sin stood up, she purposefully caught his arm and gestured for something on the table, keeping his gaze directly focused on the table in front of him.

  My bottom dropped out of my stomach.

  “Had to come up here and do the job myself,” the elderly woman at my side explained. “She did right in the end.”

  I had no clue what she was talking about again.

  All I knew was that I was about to throw up all over again.

  “What?” I croaked.

  “When she failed to get a kid to me the first time” —the woman jerked her chin in Ames’ direction— “I had to come up here and get the kid myself. Her and those stupid nails. I tapped into the reports. Found out that she’d gone for ‘fashionista’ instead of ‘circumspect.’ The kid remembered her nails. So I had to do some of the dirty work this time. I haven’t had to do that in a couple of months since I found Ames. Reminded me of all the fun.”

  Reminded me of all the fun.

  She was talking about kidnapping a child and fun.

  What kind of fucked-up person…

  “I have to tell you, though.” She shook her head. “After this, I won’t be able to use her anymore.”

  I swallowed hard. “What? Why?”

  And why the hell was I still standing there when I should be screaming?

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” she said, her eyes studying my face in a bored expression. “I suggest you don’t. I’m more than capable of taking care of every single person that’s here. I don’t come unarmed.”

  That made me hesitate.

  “Where did you take that little girl?” I asked, trying to keep her talking.

  Eventually Sin would look up, and I could make him understand.

  “I took her to her new owner.” She paused. “Well, I didn’t. My husband did.”

  Again, bile burned its way up my throat, and this time I didn’t stop my instincts.

  I puked.

  All over the woman.

  She gasped and stepped back, getting caught up in her forgotten walker, and went down hard.

  That’s when I tossed my bucket over her and started yelling.

  • • •

  “You okay?” Sin asked.

  “Yeah,” I repeated.

  “She already said that like ten minutes ago,” Bronx said as he tapped me lightly with his shoulder.

  “Agreed,” Johnny said. “Now shut up. I can’t hear.”

  All of Sin’s brothers, as well as my own, had shown up after a few phone calls.

  All of them justifiably pissed.

  Because after Sin had come to the rescue, the old woman had been searched, and they’d found quite a few guns on her that were illegal as fuck—silenced guns at that—indicating that she probably could’ve done quite a bit of damage if she’d tried. Just like she’d said.

  After relaying everything that had gone down to quite a few very intimidating people, including my own man and Officer Tatum Briggs, she’d been questioned.

  And though she hadn’t given much of anything, she had given up Ames.

  Ames who was now in the back of a police cruiser as she glared hard at all of us.

  Ames that had been pivotal in the role of her own daughter’s kidnapping. According to her, she’d gotten in this sick game of kidnapping a few months ago and hadn’t been able to find her way out since. She’d been the one to kidnap the little girl from the supermarket—her first according to her—and give her to the transport man that would be transporting her to the older man who would then transport her to the buyer.

  But other than that small amount of information, Ames hadn’t been very helpful. The old woman knew what she was doing.

  Which was so fuckin’
scary that I was still terrified.

  “Where is she?” Tatum asked. “Where did your husband take her?”

  The old woman, who we’d learned over the last twenty minutes was named Thelma, glared at the officer in front of her. “I’m not telling you.”

  “You will,” Tatum said. “If you want me to think that you’re cooperating.”

  “I’m not cooperating.” She shook her head in disgust.

  “Anybody go talk to Ames’ husband?” Johnny asked curiously.

  “I did,” an officer said. “He’s obviously not responsible for any of this. When I questioned him about his whereabouts, he claimed he wasn’t even at dinner with his wife.”

  Everything was a complete and utter clusterfuck.

  “Jesus Christ.” I groaned, rubbing my fingers over my tired eyes.

  “At this point,” Tatum said to our group at large after he had an officer transport Thelma to a cruiser, “it’s best to just get eyes out there and look for the car. We have the make and model of his vehicle, the likely destination from Ames, and a description. I think that’s our only hope for now.”

  That fucking sucked.

  It sucked so freakin’ bad that I wanted to scream.

  That wasn’t enough.

  That poor little baby was probably freakin’ terrified, and there wasn’t a single damn thing any of us could do but look for her.

  “Let’s go,” Sin urged, catching my hand.

  And that was how we began looking for a little girl, a needle in a haystack.

  CHAPTER 21

  It’s already tonight? What’s next? Tomorrow?

  -Blaise to Sin

  BLAISE

  “Someone reported seeing a car that was similar in make and model to the one we’re looking for on 1968. Since we’re closest, we’re going to head that way,” Sin said as he placed his phone back into the little holder he had for it that was sticking out of his air conditioning vent.

  I looked at him curiously. “We’ve already checked out three of those. What are the odds that anyone is even helping at this point with their ‘leads?’”

  Because honestly, it was getting frustrating.

  A ‘black car’ is not a ‘blue car.’

  An elderly white male is not a young twenty-year-old Korean dude.