Rescue Me: A Novel

by Christy Reece

  Noah leaned forward. “Mrs. Beard, did your daughter ever learn any names, first or last, that we might be able to—”

  “Yes.” Mrs. Beard nodded emphatically. “She was able to remember several different names.” Unzipping her purse, she pulled a piece of paper from it and handed it to Noah. “I've listed all the ones she could give us.”

  Noah was a difficult man to read. Only by watching him closely did Eden understand that something on the paper disturbed him. A tic in his jaw and the flex of his right hand on the arm of his chair her only clue that something was very wrong.

  Knowing what ever troubled him wouldn't be revealed until Mrs. Beard and her bodyguards left, Eden forced herself to concentrate on the remaining information Mrs. Beard gave them. As she listened, everything within her tightened. This operation would be huge … bigger than anything they'd handled since she'd come on board. It would take everything LCR had to pull this off.

  She watched Noah's face. His expression remained bland, almost pleasant, but the cold determination in his eyes blazed like a beacon. No matter the cost, they would definitely be shutting these bastards down.

  Never long on patience, Eden waited as long as she could and then burst out, “How long are you going to keep me in suspense?”

  Mrs. Beard and her shadows were gone. The instant the door closed behind them, Noah erupted from his chair and headed to the bar. Eden watched him fill two glasses with orange juice. His silence, along with the set of his shoulders, told her something was definitely off.

  “This'll be the biggest operation we've taken on.” Noah's voice rumbled across the room.

  “I don't care if it's just a one-woman mission. It's got to be done.”

  Handing her a glass of juice, Noah slumped into the chair he'd sat in earlier. “You being that woman, I assume?”

  Eden shrugged. “If the high heel fits.” She narrowed her gaze at him. “Why? Don't you think I'm up to it?”

  Leaning forward, Noah handed her the list Mrs. Beard had supplied. “Take a look.”

  Eden read through the list of names, none of them sounding familiar, until she came to a too-familiar name near the bottom. Breath left her. The juice almost fell from her hand. Raising her eyes to Noah's furious face, she whispered, “Holy hell, how did we not know this?”

  A slow shake of his head told Eden he was still struggling with the knowledge. “Based on Alfred's taunting of the Clements, we knew he gave Christina to Marc. And we knew Marc was getting fresh victims from someone. How we didn't know that his father is his main supplier is beyond my comprehension.”

  Eden jumped to her feet and began pacing as ideas and scenarios exploded through her head. “We know now… We have to shut them down.”

  He gave a sharp nod of his head. They both knew they couldn't let Larue's operation continue. Not when they had the power to stop it. Yes, it would be complicated and might cost them their lives, but what they did was worth their lives. Eden learned that long ago.

  “Christina has to come first.”

  Eden couldn't argue with his logic. She'd made this connection with Georges to retrieve the young girl and would have to complete her mission before making headway against Alfred Larue.

  “In the meantime, I'll do more digging. Somehow this dirty secret of Alfred Larue's has escaped our investigation, which makes me think he's keeping it separate from the family business. If this operation's as large as it sounds, we'll need to call everyone in on this. It'll take all we've got and then some.”

  Energy she hadn't felt since seeing Jordan surged through her. This was what she lived for, what she was good at. Everything she'd ever done or experienced had led her to Last Chance Rescue and the work she did. That horrific event seven years ago might have been the catalyst, but LCR was her destiny.

  six

  With a long sigh of contentment, Alfred Larue allowed his heavy bulk to sink into the sumptuous leather sofa. Soft music flowed through the room from hidden speakers. A small, comforting fire erased the slight chill from the air. Though his home was a comfortable size, with eighteen bedrooms and twenty-two baths, this cozy room off the master suite was his favorite. He took a swallow of brandy as he waited for Inez, his wife of forty years, to join him.

  They led busy lives. Visiting an hour before retiring for the night was a treasured tradition. Wrapped in each other's arms, they would share news of the day and discuss any family issues that had arisen over the last twenty-four hours. They'd worked hard over the years to create their vast empire and kept nothing from each other.

  One of the issues he planned to discuss with Inez tonight had him reflecting on the meeting he'd had earlier today with his cousin-in-law Thomas Bennett. Their business relationship was based upon mutual greed and the single-minded purpose of fulfilling a need few people could or would. They'd made an enormous amount of money performing a beneficial service.

  Word had come to him last week that some of the merchandise on a recent shipment had come in damaged. He'd called Bennett in for an explanation.

  Thomas was a singularly unimpressive man in appearance. Average height, pale, pockmarked skin, thinning brown hair, and somewhat beady eyes, he was the kind of man most people passed on the streets without seeing. A sharp intellect, skewed morals, and relentless greed made him an excellent business partner.

  “I'm assuming the merchandise will not be damaged in the future?” Alfred had asked.

  Thomas's thin lips curled up into a skinny, zigzagged grimace. “The employee and problem have been eliminated. A messy but necessary demonstration of our commitment to quality. The rest of the staff witnessed what happens when orders are disregarded. Nothing like a little show-and-tell to convince people. We won't have another problem.”

  “Good. I don't have to tell you that our customers require fresh, unmarked merchandise, Thomas.”

  “It won't happen again.”

  Alfred nodded. “I knew I could count on you.”

  “Your son's gift will be delivered tomorrow at the usual place.”

  “Marcus was pleased with the appearance of your last delivery, but the quality hasn't held up to his exacting standards. He's more than ready for a replacement.”

  “I believe this particular piece is sturdier and will last him longer,” Thomas said.

  Familiar with his son's specific taste, he said, “Blond and attractive though, yes?”

  An interesting light glinted in Thomas's eyes. “Blond. And yes, extremely attractive.”

  “Excellent. Anything else?”

  “I'm assuming the Clement problem is being taken care of?”

  “Yes, but not as quickly as it could be. Hector still hasn't agreed to all of my demands. Until that happens, his daughter will remain a guest of my son.”

  “Will we dispose of her in the usual way?”

  “No, I'm a man of my word. Once Hector relinquishes control of his South American interests, I'll return his daughter as promised.”

  “It's very generous of you … much more than he deserves.”

  “I may be a businessman, but I'm a family man at heart. I understand the devotion a father has for his loved ones. There's nothing I wouldn't do for mine. Hector knows all of this is his fault and the sooner he gives in, the sooner his daughter can go home to her family.”

  Nodding his agreement, Bennett had risen to his feet. “I'm headed back home in a few hours, but I'll be back in time for the next shipment.”

  Alfred took another sip of brandy to ward off the uneasy chill. A visit from Thomas Bennett always put him on edge. There was just something creepy about the man, though he was a damned fine business partner. When he'd asked his cousin Celia to marry Thomas as a favor to the family, it had paid off well. They had two daughters and now a grandson. More important, the marriage established Thomas as a member of the family. No one dare betray the family.

  A sound caught his attention. Inez came into the room, looking as lovely as she did when she was a mere child of sixteen and had g
iven her hand to him in marriage. Blond hair, cut into a flattering, casual wave of curls, surrounded a beautiful, aristocratic face. Medium height and slender in stature, her beauty had caught his attention all those years ago, but it was her strong will and love for family that had kept him from straying. Like him, there was nothing that his Inez wouldn't do for their family. Their shared beliefs made their marriage strong and unshakable.

  Alfred patted the couch. “Come, my darling, and tell me how your day has been.”

  Sitting next to him, she kissed his cheek, then cuddled beside him. “Exhausting but productive. We had to halt production at two of our plants due to some unusual police activity. Philippe is handling the matter, and we anticipate reopening next week.”

  “Any idea why the extra attention?”

  “Philippe believes our protection sources are wanting an increase in salary. He will make sure they understand this isn't the proper way to request a raise.”

  Chuckling at her dry humor, Alfred hugged her to his side. No business partner could rival his wife for loyalty, determination, or clear headed decisions. He knew he had a tendency to get emotional when it came to certain disturbances, but not so his Inez. She could handle any situation with the minimum of fuss or emotion. What a treasure she was.

  “I did have a somewhat disturbing conversation with Georges earlier, though,” Inez said.

  “Such as?”

  “He will be here in a moment. I'll let him tell you himself.”

  Alfred shook his head, his smile indulgent. “Since it involves Georges, I can only assume it involves a young woman.”

  “Yes, but not just any young woman,” Georges replied.

  Alfred's smile grew wider as Georges entered the room. Parents should have no favorites, but he couldn't deny a special fondness for his youngest son. A masculine version of his beloved Inez, Georges shared his parent's fierce emotions when it came to family and embodied the best of him and Inez.

  “Come in and tell me what makes this particular young woman so special.”

  Alfred eyed his son with some concern as he settled across from them. Georges did appear to be tired and somewhat distraught.

  “Her name is Claire Marchand. I met her at a party last month. She's beautiful,” Georges said.

  Alfred couldn't suppress a small chuckle. “Of course she is. But why is this woman different than the multitude of other beautiful women you've courted?”

  “She just is, Papa. She's kind and fun to be with.”

  “Are you in love with her?” Inez asked.

  “I believe so, Mama.”

  “Does she return your feelings?”

  “She would if there weren't obstacles.”

  An alarm clanged in Alfred's head. “What obstacles?”

  “She is married.”

  Alfred shook his head with regret. “You cannot break up a marriage. Have we not taught you better?”

  “But it's not a real marriage, Papa. Her husband is an invalid. Claire only stays with him out of loyalty and duty.”

  “That is her choice, Georges,” Alfred said.

  “Only because she doesn't feel she has any other choice.”

  “What does that mean?” Inez asked sharply.

  Georges's eyes skittered nervously away and then back. “You arranged an accident for Lisa's husband's first wife so he would be free to marry her.”

  Alfred ignored Inez's gasp. It wasn't because she didn't know about the situation. However, neither of them was aware that anyone else in the family knew what they'd done for their oldest daughter.

  “That was a different circumstance, Georges,” Alfred said.

  Georges crossed his arms; his mouth crimped in a mutinous line. “How was it different?”

  “Your sister was distraught, almost suicidal. We had no choice but to help her.”

  Tears filled his son's beautiful eyes. “I am distraught. My heart is breaking for her. Claire is young and so very brave, but her spirit will soon be broken. I love her enough to handle things on my own, but had hoped for your help and support.”

  Inez went to her son and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. “Georges, you cannot do this your-self. You have no experience taking care of such matters.” She turned pleading eyes to Alfred. “We can't allow him to handle this on his own.”

  Alfred's heart turned over. Inez rarely became emotional, but with their children she was often a mother hen. She was also correct. Georges had no experience eliminating obstacles. He would most likely mess things up and get caught.

  “I want to meet your friend before I make a decision. Can this be arranged?”

  A brilliant smile brightened his son's face. “Thank you, Papa. And yes, I've invited Claire to Marc's next weekend. You'll be able to see for yourself how special she is.”

  “Excellent. We look forward to meeting her, don't we, Inez?”

  Still biting her lip in worry, she nodded and smiled. “Yes, that's sounds like a fine idea. I'm sure she's a wonderful young woman.”

  Like a child who'd just received an expensive toy he'd been asking for, Georges jumped to his feet. “Thank you, Mama and Papa.”

  Alfred waited until his son closed the door before looking at his wife. “How did he know about the assistance we gave his sister?”

  “I'm not sure unless she confided in him.” Returning to his side, she cuddled against him again. “It is no matter. We can't allow him to take care of this himself.”

  “You're right about that. Our Georges is an innocent in affairs such as this. However, I'm not willing to make these arrangements until we're both assured that this is what should be done. The young woman may be playing upon Georges's tender heart.”

  Inez nodded. “If it appears she is indeed what she seems to be, I think we should oblige him. He asks for so little.”

  Alfred couldn't help but agree. All of his children were precious, but Georges was the only one who never asked for more than money. Smoothing the rough paths for their children was a parent's responsibility. Georges had been the least demanding of their offspring and most certainly deserved assistance.

  Alfred would reserve judgment until he met this Claire Marchand. If Georges truly loved her, then he would make the arrangements for Claire to become available and able to marry his son.

  Eden sipped ice-cold champagne and tried to tap down her excitement. Finally, hopefully, she was moving toward success. The Larues' private jet, heading toward the Greek isles, held only two pilots; one lovely, well-endowed flight attendant, who gave Eden the evil eye whenever she was sure Georges wasn't looking; Georges; and herself.

  She glanced over at the man across from her. How handsome and charming he was. Amazing how some people could put on the most charming façade and underneath be the most heinous creatures on earth.

  Not that Georges was the creep his brother or father was. From what she knew, Georges was just an average, ordinary womanizer, with no real proclivities other than an apparently high sex drive and little ambition other than to sleep with as many attractive women as he could.

  However harmless he was in his personal life, he knew of his brother's predilection for young girls and did nothing to stop it. In her opinion, that was indefensible. Allowing it to happen was almost as bad as committing the deed. Years ago, Eden had learned there were shades of gray to almost everything. This wasn't one of them.

  Did he know about his father's side business of human trafficking? Noah seemed to think not, but she was reserving judgment. Every time she thought the Larues' consciencelessness and twisted morals had reached their limit, they surprised her with new heights of depravity.

  Still, she had no plans to physically hurt any of the Larues. Punishing the bad guy would never be her mission, though on occasion, it had been unavoidable. Right now, recovering the daughter of Hector Clement was her only purpose. That Hector was part of an organized crime ring, which dealt in drugs, prostitution, and gambling, made no difference to her or LCR.

 
; Alfred Larue had kidnapped Hector's twelve-year-old daughter. The kidnapping was in part revenge for Clement stealing business from the Larues. The other part was because of his son's sick need for fresh teenage flesh. Apparently, what Marc wanted, no matter how sick, Alfred provided.

  Christina Clement was an innocent victim, caught in the middle of some very evil men. She needed a champion. And Eden was determined it would be her.

  “What did you tell your husband about this weekend?”

  Slipping back into her role as Claire Marchand was as easy as taking a breath. Her fingers pressed against her lips as if to stop them from trembling, and tears welled in her eyes. “My Jacques is such an understanding man. I simply told him I needed to get away for a few days with a friend. He knows I would never betray him and has total confidence in me.”

  Georges smiled in seeming sympathy, but was unable to hide the predatory gleam in his eyes. Eden knew he had every intention she would indeed betray her fake husband this weekend. That didn't concern her. She would handle Georges when the time came. If he became too amorous before she could accomplish her mission, she had a few tricks up her sleeve—rather, in her cosmetic case, disguised as makeup—that would take care of Georges. No, she wouldn't kill the bastard, but she'd make sure he suffered, if only temporarily.

  Perhaps, if the timing worked out, she'd be able to treat more than one Larue. The bastards would be too sick to concern themselves with kidnapping or anything else for several weeks. One of her little “bugs” could make havoc with a person's intestines, turning the strongest of men into whimpering, vomiting creatures of retching pain. A small smile lifted her lips.

  “What are you smiling about, my love?”

  A slender shoulder lifted. “Just thinking that this weekend is exactly what I need.”

  Georges leaned over and grasped her hand. “I'll make sure it is, darling.”

  Eden's smile grew brighter. Yes, there were definite perks to her job. Creating chaos in the lives and bellies of some of the most reprehensible people in the world was without doubt one of them.