The Lost Girls

by Allison Brennan

  “I need more information. I’m not walking in with seven million and no weapons.”

  “They’ll take your weapons, your cell phone, everything. But that bag has a tracker, and if Carson Spade is their accountant and chief money launderer, he’ll be given the bag to verify the authenticity of the bonds. Wherever it goes, we’ll find it.” Jack stared him in the eye. “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “No buts. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.”

  Sean’s heart skipped a beat.

  “But don’t make me tell Lucy that you got yourself killed trying to save my son. It will tear her apart.”

  “I have no intention of letting any of us die tonight.” He looked at his watch and nodded to JT. “It’s time.”

  JT left. Sean wished he had more information. He didn’t like going in blind. Without knowing who else was out there, who wanted to kill Kane, how he was going to save his son.

  Jack said, “Sean, this is how it’s going down. I don’t need to tell you that anything can happen, but I trust you, Sean. You’re smarter on your feet than anyone I’ve worked with before.”

  “I’m not a soldier,” he said, quoting what Jack said to him.

  “And that is why this is going to work. JT isn’t the only backup we have—we have Matt Elliott in the wings.”

  “The prosecutor?”

  “He was a SEAL with JT. They work well together. And if everything goes south, we’ll need a diplomat. Now listen. It’s important you play this right.”

  * * *

  When his dad came back from town, he was in a really bad mood, so Jesse stayed away from him. All he would say was that the bank was fine, but businesses in the States were falling apart.

  “Then can’t we go home?”

  “Jesse, it’s not that easy,” he said. “Just—just go play your video games.”

  “Can I call my mom?”

  “Later! Jeez, can’t you see I have a hundred things to do right now? You’re a big boy, do you need to talk to your mom every day?”

  He walked away.

  “Jesse, I’m sorry—” his dad began.

  “It’s fine,” he mumbled and went back to his room.

  Earlier he’d seen Gabriella come in and thought they could play pool—Dominick had a wicked cool pool table in a gigantic room designed like some scene from a James Bond movie. They’d played the first day Jesse was here—him, Gabriella, Jose, and one of the guys who worked for Dominick. They’d had fun.

  But Gabriella said, “I can’t, Jess, I’m sorry. Maybe later. By the way, I found your game in the atrium. You shouldn’t leave your stuff lying around.” She handed it to him. “I know you like to play all the time.”

  He didn’t remember leaving it anywhere, but he’d been looking for it.

  “Thanks,” he mumbled.

  So first Gabriella then his dad. Play your stupid games. That’s what they thought, because no grown-up liked games. Jose did, and he was fun, but he was also … well, he wasn’t really all that smart. What would his grandmother say? Simple. Yeah, he was simple, but nice. Nothing like his brothers.

  Jesse pulled his DS out of its sleeve and a paper fell to the floor. He picked it up. It was folded over, no name on the outside. He hadn’t put it there. Had Gabriella slipped him a note? It had to be.

  He opened it. It wasn’t written in girl writing. Small, clear printing slanted to the right.

  Jesse ~

  I’m sorry I scared you last night at the football game. I approached you all wrong. Forgive me.

  I was asked by your mother Madison to find you and your stepfather and bring you both home. It wasn’t until I got to Acapulco that I learned that Carson Spade launders money for a drug cartel. Now, my only concern is bringing you back to the States safe.

  You deserve the truth. I don’t want to tell you in a letter, but I need you to trust me and my brother. I am your biological father. I knew your mother when we were both at Stanford. She told me Monday that you were born. I didn’t even know she was pregnant. If I had … everything would be different. I hope we get a chance to talk about this soon. But for now know that I will do everything in my power to get you out of that house. It’s more dangerous than you know.

  My brother Kane used to be in the Marines. He’s going to come for you tonight. Be ready. Unlock your window and the set of French doors into your suite. When he gets there, do exactly what he says. I trust Kane with my life. More, I trust him with yours.

  I don’t know you, Jesse, but I love you. You are my son. You are a Rogan. And that means you are both strong and smart. Be both tonight.

  ~ Sean

  * * *

  Sean walked into Dante Romero’s house after his thugs disarmed him.

  “I want my gun back,” Sean said.

  “So you’re Little Rogan. How long has it been? Twenty years?”

  “Gun.”

  “When you leave.”

  “Your sister betrayed Kane.”

  “And what? You plan on killing me?” Dante smiled. “And I heard you were the smart Rogan.”

  The comparison between Dante Romero and Sean’s brother Liam was right on, he thought. They had the same innate cockiness and superiority complex … and the same distrustful attitude.

  “She promised she would help … then turned him over to Flores. I have enough money to buy his freedom.”

  “I doubt that.”

  “Don’t.”

  “What I mean is, Kane’s head is priceless.”

  “I will get my brother back.”

  “You’re not like them, are you?”

  “What the fuck do you mean?”

  Dante waved Sean over into another room. “Relax, Sean. The Romeros and Rogans go way back.”

  Sean couldn’t relax. He was worried about Kane and Jesse and he wanted to kill Carson Spade. Sean didn’t like that part of him, the part that would do violence to another. He much preferred destroying people with his brains, not his fists or guns.

  Sean hesitated, then followed. Dante was a little older than Liam, who was nearly thirty-six. Just as confident, just as charming. Just as deadly.

  Dante led Sean into a well-appointed library. If Sean were in the mood, he would have enjoyed the room, with books and art and a state-of-the-art computer system. Dante waved off his security and closed the door so he and Sean were alone.

  “Sit.”

  “No.”

  “Kane at least plays the game.”

  Sean grunted out a laugh.

  “In his own way.” Dante walked over to his desk and leaned back in the leather chair. “You want me to broker a deal.”

  “I want my brother.”

  “And your brother wants the kid he was hired to retrieve. Some sort of domestic issue.”

  “I’m just his pilot.”

  Now Dante laughed. “Oh, Sean, that is so ridiculous. Do you think I’m an idiot? Just a pilot. You think you’re immune to this world, flying your brother around and guarding the plane? That anyone would even believe it anymore? The wrong people know exactly who you are. You can’t be a Rogan on this planet and not have the wrong people keep tabs on you. Your brother did you a grave disservice if he didn’t teach you the laws of the universe long ago.”

  Sean crossed the library and put his hands on Dante’s desk. “I want my brother back. I don’t care about the kid, I don’t care about Flores or your ego or your love–hate relationship with my family. I want Kane. I have seven million dollars—one million in cash and six million in bearer bonds. Call Flores and tell him I want to make a trade.”

  Dante stared at him for a long minute. Sean could see his brain running through all the possible scenarios. He was definitely intrigued. Then he said, “I want one thing in return.”

  “What?” Sean said through clenched teeth.

  “Not now. But I will call for a favor, and you will not say no.”

  Sean didn’t want to be beholden to this man. He knew nothing abou
t him other than what Kane and Jack had told him. But he knew that Dante was the only one who could broker this deal, and getting that meeting with Flores was crucial to rescuing Kane and Jesse.

  “Okay.”

  Dante smiled. “Kane is a man of his word, and I will assume you are as well. Don’t disappoint me.”

  “Make the call.”

  “Dear Sean, this is a game I am exceptionally good at, do not tell me how to do it. I will call you with a time and place.”

  “I want my gun back.”

  “Of course. It’s a dangerous city. I would never let you walk out of here unarmed.”

  * * *

  Dante made sure Sean Rogan had his weapon and phone returned, then went back to his office.

  Six million in bearer bonds.

  Kane Rogan was playing a dangerous game, but Dante knew exactly what was going on. Kane, the brilliant fool, had let himself get taken. He wouldn’t tell Sean where that money came from, but he knew that as soon as Sean came to him—and who else would Sean go to in Guadalajara who had any information about where Flores was keeping his brother?—that Dante would know exactly what Kane wanted him to do.

  But he had Gabriella to think about. His beautiful, smart, revenge-driven sister.

  He closed his eyes and played through every scenario he could imagine—something he was exceptionally good at. And in five minutes he realized that Kane must have gotten to Gabriella. Something he said or did or promised had Gabriella helping him.

  Possibly. Sometimes, Dante didn’t understand his sister. Hell, he didn’t understand women. But he did understand Kane Rogan, and he decided that it would be fun to play along and see what happened.

  Because Dante knew every party who wanted those bearer bonds. Every. Single. One.

  Including the person Kane and JT had originally stolen them from.

  It would also greatly benefit him to have Sean Rogan alive.

  Sean Rogan who now owed him a favor. A favor that Dante couldn’t wait to call in.

  Sean Rogan. He hadn’t seen him since he was a kid, but he was everything he expected. A bit hotheaded. Smart. Manipulative. That kid didn’t know his value. Or maybe he did … which made this deal all the more interesting.

  He picked up his secure phone. First he called the eldest Flores brother. Dominick was the only sane one in a family of lunatics. He would take the money over killing Kane—at least, he would be willing to consider it.

  It took him a bit of time to get through to Dominick. “What is it, Romero?”

  “I’ve been hired by Rogan’s family to negotiate for his return.”

  “He’s not up for negotiation.”

  “Six million in bearer bonds, plus some cash.”

  Silence.

  “Do you have the money?”

  “The family has it.”

  “Who?”

  “Sean Rogan.”

  “I’ll call you back.” Dom hung up, but Dante knew the Flores family. They would argue, but they would want the money. So he’d either call back and set up the trade, kill Sean and Kane and take the money, or call back and set up the trade and let Sean negotiate.

  This was a dangerous game, because there was no doubt Flores knew that Sean was a computer hacker. These people always wanted the best to help them secure their illegally gotten gains. Of course, Dante understood this because he, too, wanted the best.

  Either way, Sean would go to the Flores compound with the money and bonds. And it would happen quickly.

  Dante dialed a number he hadn’t called in years, but the phone was picked up after two rings.

  Dante said, “I found your bonds. And I know who stole them.”

  He gave the information to his old friend and they discussed what to do about the situation.

  Then he made a third call and left a message.

  “I have information you want and it’s free. You have my number.”

  He hung up.

  Kane Rogan made one fatal mistake. He may know who was looking for the bearer bonds—many people over the years had been looking for them for a variety of reasons—and he may think he would be able to capitalize on that knowledge to create a diversion at the Flores compound. But Dante knew who he’d stolen them from in the first place. And he couldn’t wait to expose Kane.

  He truly hoped both Kane and Sean survived Dominick Flores and the rest of the Flores clan. Because the real fireworks were to come later.

  And Dante, for one, couldn’t wait to witness that.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Adam Villines walked out onto the porch of Honeycutt’s house and told Nate and Lucy, “I have a general location of George’s phone.”

  John came out of the house. “I’m coming with you,” he said.

  “No,” Adam said.

  “Adam, you don’t understand! This girl—she’s been through hell. And now three cops are going to storm her place? She’ll be terrified. She needs to see a friendly face!”

  Lucy rose from the bench. She still felt queasy, but she was pulling herself together. “John, she will see a friendly face. Siobhan Walsh is a friend of mine. She’s been looking for Marisol and Ana ever since they went missing. She’ll be with us.” Lucy pulled the photo of Marisol, Ana, and Siobhan from her file. “This is Siobhan with the girls when they were younger.”

  “But—”

  Adam put his hand on John’s shoulder. They were both tall men, but Adam was broader and more muscular than his brother-in-law. “Johnny, stay with your parents tonight. Keep the house locked up, guns by your side, just in case. Call me if there is anything suspicious going on. And I give you my word, we’ll do everything to help those girls.”

  John nodded, though he still looked unhappy. “Thank you, Adam.” He turned to Lucy. “Anything my parents and I can do, we’ll do. We don’t have a lot of money, but we have this property—a safe place for them to stay. Food. My mom was a school nurse for thirty-five years, she can take care of them. Their—special needs.”

  The compassion she witnessed helped Lucy more than she could have explained to John or anyone. Here was a family willing to share everything they had to help someone they had just met. Not just Marisol, but them. Both the girls. The babies. The Honeycutts were the light in the world, a light Lucy desperately needed right then.

  “Thank you,” she said quietly. “I’ll make sure Marisol knows.”

  They walked back to the cars after John went back inside. Adam said, “He should have called me when he found her, I’m sorry.”

  “She’s scared of authority, but he’s a good man. Don’t be hard on him—you have a good family here,” Lucy said.

  “I do,” Adam said with pride. “They just should have trusted me.”

  “They do. But you and I both know that not all cops are the good guys. And Marisol didn’t know if anyone would believe her, or even where she was. She knew there’s at least one bad cop in the neighboring county. It would be smart for her captors to bring in one man in uniform to intimidate the girls, so they would be scared to go to the police.”

  Nate opened his door. “Where are we going?”

  Adam gave them the street. “The phone company couldn’t pinpoint the exact address, but they gave us a radius downtown. There are several motels in the area, restaurants, some apartments and businesses.”

  “If Angelo did in fact pick her up, he may have taken her to a motel. Let’s check there first, show both their photos.” Lucy turned to Nate. “Did Zach come through on Angelo?”

  “No known record, at least in the US. Has a Mexican passport, and he used it to fly into Laredo on Friday afternoon.”

  “He flew? It’s a what, four-hour drive or so?”

  “About that,” Adam said. “So he’s been here since Friday.” He frowned.

  Lucy nodded. “You’re on the right path, Adam—he knew she was missing before she called him.”

  “She could have contacted him before Tuesday morning,” Adam said.

  “That wasn’t m
y impression after talking to the Honeycutts. They seemed to think she hadn’t spoken to him in two years.”

  Adam rubbed his face. “I’ll call in backup.”

  “And I need to alert Siobhan. John is right, Marisol needs a familiar face, and she’ll trust Siobhan.”

  On the drive back to Laredo, Lucy called Siobhan and told her to meet them at an intersection near the two motels. She didn’t give her any more information, though Siobhan had questions. She quickly got off the phone and called Noah. She filled him in on everything they had, and then gave him her theory. He was silent when she was done.

  “I’ll run Zapelli’s name up the food chain. He may not have a record and he may not be flagged, but that doesn’t mean he’s not on someone’s radar. I’m on my way down.”

  “To Laredo?”

  “Hooper arrived and he’s working with the AUSA serving warrants and getting things done. I swear, that guy is just brilliant. White collar is over my head, and I’m the first to admit it. I won’t know what I’m looking at, and Hooper has done this for years. His specialty is human traffic laundering—his wife is an ICE agent and he’s made great inroads in tracking the money with her help in understanding the business of buying and selling humans. Besides, I’ve already pissed off half the office, why not piss off the other half?”

  “Because it’s not like you. You’re the diplomat.”

  He laughed. He sounded like he was in a much better mood than when they first were stymied by the law firm. “I try to be, but sometimes it takes too long. Keep me in the loop. I’m already on the road, I’ll be there in an hour.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Noah called Lucy back. “We have a location on Angelo Zapelli.”

  “That was fast.”

  “He just checked into the airport in Laredo. Zach had put him on the watch list just five minutes before, and bam, we just got the notification. His flight leaves in forty-two minutes, I’m working on getting him detained, but get there as soon as you can.”

  * * *

  It didn’t take long for Lucy and Nate to arrive at the airport. Homeland Security had detained Zapelli and he sat in a small room. They stared at him through the one-way glass.

  Angelo Zapelli was an attractive twenty-six-year-old with the suave good looks of someone with the perfect blend of Italian and Mexican genes. Lucy could see how the story unfolded—he’d showed Marisol attention, she was flattered and completely unschooled in flirting, and he used that. Got her to trust him, sold her into sex trafficking, covered it up … but she had trusted him. That meant not only did she not know he was the one who set her up, he had probably been doing it for years.