by Jenifer Ruff
Stephen nodded at Svet, who responded by twisting Damian’s arm.
Damian moaned. “But—” He struggled to speak. “Allison told me to.”
“What the hell are you saying?” Stephen poked his finger into Damian’s chest. “Allison asked you specifically to get Emma Manning? She said, get Emma Manning and bring her to me?”
Damian’s face was red and growing brighter. His eyes bulged.
“Let up on him. I want to hear this.” Stephen leaned forward. “It’s been a night of unexpected events.”
Svet loosened his grip. Damian gulped air as his color returned to normal. “Yes, what you said—that’s exactly how it went down. Allison paid me extra. She paid me a bonus to get Emma Manning. She showed me pictures and gave me the girl’s address.”
Stephen rubbed his chin and paced with his head down. “See, what you’re saying doesn’t make sense. Allison was furious about the attention the girl is drawing. And you expect me to believe she asked you to kidnap her?”
“It’s the truth. Why else would I go after her?” Beads of sweat covered Damian’s forehead and slid down his temples. “I thought it was messed up, not how we do things, but it’s not my place to argue with Allison. And it ended up being easy. She told me to contact Emma through the ChatEasy app, which I deleted from her phone and laptop before we dumped them.”
Stephen studied the young man and tried to figure out who was playing him, Damian or Allison. Who was the better liar? That was an easy question to answer. “Let him go.”
Svet released Damian. He stumbled away, chest heaving. His useless hand dangled at his side, the other rubbed his neck. “Allison wanted to get Emma out of the country and sell her. I wasn’t supposed to tell you Allison was involved.”
Stephen cackled. “No, I imagine that you weren’t. And that was another mistake.” He waved him away. “Get out. You and Svet are taking all the girls to Winston-Salem. Two different motels. Same as last time. Don’t leave any of them alone for a second. Petar, you’re staying here until I tell you otherwise.”
“N-n-not bringing Emma to the truck stop to get rid of her, like Allison told me?” Petar asked.
“No. You’re not.” Stephen didn’t trust Allison anymore. He’d set up his own deal to make Emma disappear.
Svet moved toward Stephen. “What about the rest of today’s appointments?”
Stephen didn’t like Svet standing so close and he didn’t like the brothers questioning him. “The only thing happening tonight is you and Damian getting all the girls out of Charlotte and Petar waiting here until I tell him otherwise!” Things are separating at the seams. It’s my job to tie them back together. Then Damian will pay for crossing me.
While he waited for confirmation that Sofia was dead, he could at least get to the bottom of this new development. Time to drive back to Allison’s house and figure out why she abducted Emma Manning.
Chapter Thirty-One
Following Dr. Chaudhry’s orders, the agents let Sofia get some rest. They took turns sitting outside her room, anxious for another chance to talk to her. Victoria called her boss, grabbed something to eat, and bought another coffee for Rivera.
She caught Sofia’s doctor in the hallway.
“We really need some more time with Sofia,” she told the doctor. “It’s urgent.”
Dr. Chaudhry glanced toward the room she was about to enter and sighed. “All right. Let me check on her first.”
They returned to Sofia’s room together. Victoria handed Rivera his coffee. He wasn’t quite as fresh looking as when he’d arrived in Charlotte two days ago, but he was wide awake, tapping his foot.
Dr. Chaudhry knocked lightly as she entered. “Sofia?”
Sofia pulled the sheet up to her neck and squinted toward the doorway. “Who’s there?” Her voice trembled.
“It’s Dr. Chaudhry. I’m with Agent Heslin and Agent Rivera.”
“Sofia, are you . . . nearsighted?” Victoria asked. “Do you normally wear glasses?”
Sofia shook her head. “No.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Victoria held up one finger.
“Three,” Sofia answered immediately.
Victoria extended all five fingers. “Now how many?”
“Two.” Sofia sounded certain, but her hands were busy twisting her bedsheets.
Victoria wasn’t sure how to respond at first. The poor girl wouldn’t allow herself any weaknesses, but there was an easy fix to her problem. “I’m going to look into getting you some glasses.” She glanced at Dr. Chaudhry. “Surely there’s an optometrist who can make a visit.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible here.” Dr. Chaudhry sighed. “They would need—”
Victoria gestured toward the hallway. “Let’s step out and talk about this.” She led the way. “It might be unusual, but let’s make it happen. If it’s a matter of costs, I’ll pick up whatever it is personally. You have my word. If you could just find someone to get her a prescription and bring some frames for her to choose from, we can have her seeing again in a few hours. I think it would really help her to trust us and to feel more comfortable if she can see us.”
“I . . . I’ll see what we can do.”
“Thank you so much, doctor. I know it’s not normal, but nothing about her life has been what it should be. This would be a good first step.”
Dr. Chaudhry went back inside the room. She smiled at Sofia. “Doing okay?”
Sofia tried to straighten her shoulders but the pain stopped her. “I’m fine.”
“I’m going to check a few things and make sure. Have a look under your bandage.”
“I’m fine,” Sofia said, her voice firm. “We have to save Anastasia. And Emma, before they send her away. Their lives are more important than my rest.”
Victoria’s heart surged with admiration for the girl.
“I see your point. But your health is my main responsibility. Remember, you have some serious healing to do.” The doctor stepped back, studying her patient. “Tell these agents what you can, and then make sure you get some rest. A nurse will check on you, soon.”
Victoria took the chair next to Sofia’s bed and pulled it closer. “Ready to talk some more?”
“Yes.” Sofia sat up straighter, with only the slightest wince. “We need to hurry.”
Victoria smiled. “Good. We agree. What we need are names, locations, vehicles, anything we can use to help us arrest the people who were holding you and your other friends captive.”
“They’re not my friends.” Sofia clutched the neck of her gown. “Only Anastasia. I have to look out for her. I’m worried about what’s happened to her since I escaped.”
“Then let’s figure out how to find her.” Victoria took out her tablet, ready to jot down whatever information Sofia provided. “I have faith that you know more than you think, and it will be enough for us to go on. Can you tell us the names of the people who held you?”
“Yes. The leaders are Stephen and Ms. Bois. I don’t know his last name, and I know that’s not her real name. But her first name is Allison. He’s Romanian. She’s American. And then there’s Svet and Petar. They’re brothers. From Ukraine, like me. They’re strong. And cruel. Petar stutters. And then there’s Da—”
Victoria waited until it became clear Sofia wasn’t going to finish her sentence. “I didn’t catch that last name you were about to say. What was it?”
Sofia twisted her hands in her bedsheet. “There might be a few others that watch over the motel girls or spot new girls. I don’t know their names.”
“I’d like you to describe each of them to me as best you can,” Victoria said. “How old is Stephen, about, and what does he look like?”
“Stephen is older. Forties or fifties. Almost always wears suits during the day except for when he goes to yoga classes. And always carries a gun.”
Good to know. Victoria made a note of it. “And Allison Bois?”
“Ms. Bois is thin and beautiful. Pale skin with
freckles, red hair. Do you know who Nicole Kidman is? From the magazines?”
“The actress. Yes.”
“Ms. Bois looks like Nicole Kidman. With long, straight red hair. She usually wears nice dresses and high heels. She looks like a business woman. Oh . . . I know she won an award from the City of Charlotte. You know they have police they pay to help them?”
“We suspected,” Rivera said. “Do you think you’d recognize any of them if you saw them?
“I don’t know. Maybe not. It’s hard . . .” She glanced toward the window. “I’m not safe yet, am I?”
Victoria followed her gaze, but there was nothing to see. “We’re going to get you out of here as soon as your doctor says it’s okay. And then no one but us will know where you are until this is over and we catch the people responsible. Meanwhile, we’re not leaving you. How about cars? Do you know what kind of cars they drive?”
“Stephen drives us in a dark silver Mercedes van or sometimes in his BMW. A black BMW. Ms. Bois’s car looks a lot like his, but it’s a black Mercedes.”
Something pinged in Victoria’s brain. She set her tablet down and hurried across the room. “Hold on. I’ll be right back.” It was just a hunch, but her intuition was suddenly on fire.
The Charlotte magazine she’d thumbed through earlier was no longer by the chair in the hallway. She flew down the stairs to the hospital lobby where she’d seen a stack of them. She grabbed one and flipped through the pages. Sure enough, just a few pages in, under the headliner Celebrating Success—a two-page spread featuring twenty or more attractive Charlotte Realty Max realtors. The perfect line up. Carrying the magazine, she ran back up the stairs and straight to the nursing desk. “Do you have a black pen?”
The nurse looked around the desk area.
“Never mind.” Victoria spotted a marker under a white board and grabbed it. “This will do.” Pressing the magazine against the wall, she inked out the name under each photo.
She hustled back to Sofia’s room, offering Rivera a smug smile as she entered. She rested the open magazine on Sofia’s lap. “Do any of these women look familiar to you?”
Sofia had no problem seeing close up. Her finger moved quickly below the headshots and stopped exactly where Victoria expected—middle row, second from the left. “That’s her. That’s Ms. Bois.”
Victoria smiled. She could have pulled up the realtor’s image on her tablet, but the magazine spread had made for an infallible line up. “Great job. Thank you, Sofia.” She turned to Rivera. “Allison Greenwood. The realtor who owns the listing for that building I searched.”
“That’s right.” Sofia fiddled with an elastic hair band, wrapping it around her finger then pulling it off and starting again. “I forgot. The award at her house was for Allison Greenwood, but it had Ms. Bois’s picture. If she and Stephen get away, they’ll just move somewhere else, get more girls, and start over.”
“We have more than enough to find her now. We’re going to give this information to some people we work with. People we trust.”
“And they’ll go after her now?”
“Yes,” Rivera answered. “Our boss is already on his way here to help organize the teams that will arrest them. What you’ve gone through, the risks you’ve taken to help others—you’re a hero. You really are. So now, we need to heed your doctor’s orders and let you recover. Is there anything we can get you? Are you hungry or thirsty?”
“Is there any way I could get . . . a Smoothie King Smoothie?”
Victoria smiled. “You can have anything you want. Just name it.”
“I’d like chocolate with banana and peanut butter. Please.”
“I’ll call and see if they’ll deliver it,” Victoria suggested.
“No. I’ll go get it,” Rivera said. “I need some fresh air and I saw one across the street.”
“But you’re staying with me?” Sofia looked toward Victoria, her face earnest, her question more of a plea.
“I’m just going to step out to call my boss. He’s on his way to Charlotte to help us catch the bad guys. I’ll be right back. And there will be a guard in the hallway.”
“Okay.” Sofia let herself slump back against her pillow.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Stephen stopped at the back gate, gripping the post with one hand, his phone with the other. He growled into the phone. He ended the call and crossed the back yard. Using the key he’d borrowed earlier, he opened the back door.
In the kitchen, Allison greeted him with a glare. She was barefoot but still dressed in a sexy black sheath dress. “What the hell, Stephen? Why did you come back?” She peered around him. “You don’t have any of the girls with you, do you?”
“I’m alone.” He closed the door and leaned back against it.
“Did you find Sofia?”
Stephen glared at her. His fingers stroked the gun at his side.
Allison grabbed a dishtowel and wiped hard back and forth against the counter. “Shouldn’t you be on your way to Winston-Salem?”
“Soon. I have to clear something up first.”
“I’m on my way out. You should have called ahead.”
“Why did you want the Manning girl?”
“What are you talking about?” She pulled the dishtowel tight between her hands. “Why would I want her?”
“You paid Damian to snatch Emma Manning. We don’t touch girls like Emma. Too big a risk.”
Allison stepped backwards towards the door without taking her eyes off Stephen. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re way too paranoid.”
Stephen removed his gun, holding it casually, and strolled toward her. “The business we’re in, it’s not pretty, is it? But we’ve always behaved as professionals. We’ve never lied to each other, as far as I know. We’ve never kept decisions from each other. At least not decisions that could destroy our entire business and take us down with it. So, I’m going to ask you one more time, why did you want the girl?”
“I don’t know what you’re—"
Stephen cocked the gun.
Allison flinched but regained her composure.
“Sometimes we need a little incentive to tell the truth. Here’s yours.” He inched closer and pointed the gun at her shoulder. “Why did you pay Damian to take Emma Manning?”
Allison squared her shoulders. If she was afraid, she wasn’t letting it show. “I had a score to settle.”
“With a high school girl?”
“With her father.”
“Her father? Was he one of your conquests, but you wanted more and he spurned you? Is that what happened?”
“No.” Her eyes were dark as she stared at the counter. “Nothing like that.”
“Then what, Allison? I’m getting tired of asking. What is he to you?”
He wiggled his finger in front of the trigger. Her eyes widened, but only for an instant. She sat on the bar stool with erect, defiant posture, still watching Stephen’s every move. Her haughty anger had returned, erupting from every pore. “You wouldn’t.”
“I will.”
She let out a deep breath. “Her father is also my father.”
Stephen was genuinely surprised. “Really? He’s the big, bad, demon who knocked up your mother and left her nothing?”
“Yes.” Allison’s gaze didn’t waver. “He’s always had money and did nothing to help us.”
“So, let me see if I’m understanding this.” Stephen kept his gun on Allison, turning it in small circles. “Your father, who may not even know you exist—hell, he must have been what—eighteen? He screwed you out of a nice country club life with ballet recitals and horseback riding lessons—so your way of cheering yourself up is to steal his privileged little girl? Even if it’s a surefire way to get us locked up for life?”
“He knows I exist, all right.”
“Why the sudden need to ruin this man’s life?”
Allison’s face flushed with embarrassment. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, her pale skin g
ave it away. “Someone in my office saw Emma’s picture in the newspaper. Jokingly said she looked like she could be my daughter. I agreed and took a closer look. I always believed my father was somewhere in this city.”
“Your mother never told you who he was?”
“She didn’t tell me, but I had the sense that she knew exactly who he was and where to find him. A few months ago, I finally looked through some of my mother’s belongings, the few items I kept after she died. I discovered some things.”
“Like?”
“Letters. She wrote him letters. They were returned unopened. I hired an investigator. It didn’t take much to find Tripp Manning and to learn he’s paying child support to two other women. Is that fair?”
Stephen threw his head back in a laugh. “You’re complaining about fairness? Come on, Allison. Surely this is beneath you. I thought you were so much stronger. Immune. You don’t even know for sure that he’s your father. Just because the girl looks a little like you? That’s pathetic.”
“I do know.” Allison glared at him. “The window cleaning company the Mannings use—I’ve used the same one for some of my clients. I paid one of their employees to take what I needed to do a DNA test. Tripp Manning is my father. Emma is my half-sister. And she’s living an incredible life—”
“Was. I think she would beg to differ with you now—”
“Her life was nothing like the way I was forced to grow up.”
“That’s certainly changed.” He cocked his head and swirled his gun around. “You’re doing pretty well for yourself these days.”
Allison cackled. “This—paying off informants and hiding stolen girls in my basement—this is not an ideal life.”
Stephen’s phone rang. He ignored it and focused on what to do about Allison. In a few more years, he planned to take his spoils and disappear to a remote island with the best yoga studios and live happily ever after without a care in the world. Everything he’d built was now in jeopardy, and so was his future. Allison needed to face consequences.
