Cavanaugh Undercover

by Marie Ferrarella

  Clusters of expensive cars were parked everywhere, with valets hurrying to and fro between them.

  Tiana sat up a little straighter, taking everything in at once. “I think it looks like we’re going to be crashing a party.”

  “Not with that kind of security on duty,” Brennan pointed out, indicating the men stopping each vehicle as it came within yards of the house. “Those guys are far too menacing-looking to be valets.”

  Tiana suddenly had an idea. “Pull over to the side,” she instructed.

  “Why?” Brennan asked, following the single-word question with another one. “Where?”

  “There, go to the extreme rear,” she said, pointing out where she wanted him to turn. “Where the delivery trucks are.”

  She definitely sounded as if she had a plan. They worked well together, he couldn’t help thinking. Brennan drove to exactly where Tiana had pointed. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, we can’t crash the party as guests,” she reasoned. “But nobody really ever notices the help at one of these functions.”

  “We’ll need uniforms if we’re going to try to blend in,” he pointed out.

  She’d already thought of that. “We either bribe two people who are approximately our size—or knock them out and tie them up, whichever way you think works best.”

  Brennan laughed, turning the headlights of his vehicle off as he snaked his way around the rear of the mansion. He was heading for a row of mature Leyland Cypresses.

  “Roland might or might not be smarter than he looks, but you are definitely more devious than you look,” he told Tiana. There was appreciation as well as admiration in his voice.

  His comment warmed her.

  They left his sedan parked behind the Leyland Cypresses. The trees, which resembled large Christmas trees, looked like tall, dark green sentries and hid the car well.

  The moment they were parked and he cut off the motor, Brennan called Duncan as he’d arranged earlier. He filled his brother in as to where they were by providing the address—and told him to wait for his call before coming onto the property.

  “What are you going to be doing in the meantime, ‘partying’?” Duncan asked, only half kidding.

  Brennan would if he could, but that wasn’t an option. He and Tiana needed to move around unnoticed. “You know that oath we all took to protect and serve? Well, we’ll be doing the serving part,” Brennan told him just before terminating the call. He knew he’d fired up Duncan’s curiosity and he got a kick out of that.

  Within a couple of minutes, he and Tiana were inching their way closer to the rear of the house and the three large trucks that were the center of the activity here. Brennan played it by ear.

  In the end, he decided it was easier to do it both ways.

  With Tiana’s help he knocked out two food servers, a man and a woman whose sizes approximated theirs. The uniforms they were wearing were stripped off. Unconscious, the duo offered no resistance. The couple were subsequently bound and gagged and left in their underwear.

  The servers were then deposited in the trunk of Brennan’s sedan, but not before several large bills were tucked away on their person, payment for their “cooperation,” as unwilling and unintentional as that service might have been.

  The trunk locked, Brennan and she made their way back to the hub of all the activity. All types of food and liquid libation, not to mention everything that went with the serving of that food, made its appearance in the vicinity and was then taken inside.

  “Good fit,” Brennan commented as he looked Tiana over just before they merged with the ebb and flow of all the activity. “Now what?”

  She looked at him, clearly surprised that he was asking her. “Hey, it’s your plan. You call the shots.”

  “Now we grab something to carry inside and blend in as we look around. I’ve got a feeling that the main entertainment isn’t going to be a showing of the newly restored The Wizard of Oz.”

  “You, too, huh?” As they approached the truck closest to them, Brennan caught her hand. Stopping in her tracks, she looked at him, waiting. “Just remember, if we get separated, no heroics. Get back to the car as fast as possible.”

  “Is that what you plan to do?” she asked. She didn’t want to be treated with kid gloves. This was her sister they were looking to rescue. Yes, there were other girls and they would be saved, as well, but it was the hunt for Janie that had brought both of them to this juncture.

  “I said if ‘we’ get separated,” Brennan pointed out.

  He was being evasive, she thought. He knew how to use words effectively—but he couldn’t fool her. “You’re not really answering my question, you know,” Tiana told him.

  “Showtime,” he suddenly announced with lips that were hardly moving.

  He would have made a great ventriloquist, she thought. He was also good at avoiding answering questions directly.

  “Hey, you two, get your butts out here and hustle.” The order was barked by a less-than-friendly-looking bald man who gave the impression that he felt any time he spent out here with the “help” was really beneath him. “Do whatever else you want on your own time. I’m not paying you good money to be all over each other,” the sharp-featured man snapped, scowling. He gestured angrily toward a workstation that had been set up. “Those wine goblets aren’t going to fill and circulate themselves,” he stressed, barking out orders.

  “Yes, sir.” Tiana all but saluted, snapping to it cheerfully. She gave the man an appropriately meek, subservient smile as she hurried in through the back entrance.

  She and Brennan headed toward the table that had at least a dozen empty glasses arranged on it. They each picked up a bottle of wine from a nearby case and began to fill the goblets, which they then placed on round, gold-leaf-embossed serving trays.

  It wasn’t long before another straw boss with dictator delusions separated them, taking possession of Brennan.

  “I need somebody with a strong back,” the heavyset man told Brennan, the buttons on his white tux shirt straining valiantly against their holes with each breath he took. “We’ve got tables to set up in the back,” he said condescendingly.

  Tiana was on her own—and fairly certain that Brennan’s previous warning regarding separation hadn’t been intended to describe this sort of situation. They had just gotten here, and she for one wasn’t leaving until she was sure this was just a harmless party and not an orgy using helpless young girls as unwilling participants.

  * * *

  Tiana carried trays of wine goblets for the next half hour, winding her way through groups of people, most of whom, as she’d hoped, didn’t notice her at all. However, she did catch a few staring unabashedly at her as if she were some exotic meal and they hadn’t eaten in months.

  The leers she saw aimed in her direction had her promising herself a very long, very hot bath once this was finally over. God knew she could use it.

  During that time, as she collected empty goblets and offered filled ones in their place, she also noticed that about 80 percent of the guests were males. The women attending the party were few, mostly seeming like window dressing rather than equals to the men they were with.

  A couple of times, she saw Brennan from across the room. Each time the man who had commandeered Brennan had him doing something that required brute strength.

  It was becoming more and more apparent to Tiana that this party had been thrown together hastily, for what purpose was yet unclear. It did seem that no money was spared, but despite that, it looked as if things were not progressing as smoothly as they might have, although she suspected that none of the guests noticed.

  One guest almost walked right into her as he tried to ambush an older man who was standing several feet behind her.

  “Hey, Wilson,” the man called out to his quarry. “How much longer
do we have to wait?”

  “Patience, Mr. Walker, patience. Everything comes to him who waits,” the man behind her advised.

  The man called Walker looked less than patient. “Yeah, well, it feels like we’ve been waiting around forever.”

  “Soon,” the man replied in an incredibly soothing voice. “Soon.” The voice also sounded vaguely familiar to her, but that familiarity was currently filtering down to her through a fog.

  Where had she heard it before? And exactly in what context?

  As she half turned, pretending to offer the man behind her the last glass of wine on her tray, her heart all but stopped.

  She recognized him immediately.

  Chapter 17

  Wilson Ashcroft.

  Stunned, Tiana almost said his name out loud. She had never seen the man up close, or even in person, but she had seen his photograph on a number of occasions in the newspaper, as well as in an extensive national magazine interview about six months ago.

  Ashcroft was considered one of the wealthiest men in the country. In general, it was noted that he liked keeping a low profile but was the go-to person when it came to underwriting fund-raisers as well as generously giving donations to almost every large organized charity in existence.

  And there were also rumors—well-researched rumors—that he had been instrumental in getting more than one political candidate elected, both on the state level and on the national one. More than one grateful political official owed his or her career to Ashcroft’s efforts and generosity.

  What was a man like that doing being involved in something so heinous as the wanton sex trafficking of any individuals, much less underage girls?

  There had to be some mistake, yet there he was, less than three feet away from her, talking to a man who looked as if he were once removed from a Neanderthal in a tailored suit.

  Appearances could be deceiving. Maybe Ashcroft and Neanderthal Man were talking about something else, something as inconsequential as what was being served for the buffet dinner. She reminded herself that so far she hadn’t seen any evidence of there being anything wrong. The only element that seemed out of sync was that Roland was here. She’d seen him milling around several of the guests earlier.

  But then, for all she and Brennan knew, maybe this was just some social commitment on Roland’s part. She was fairly certain that when a man of Ashcroft’s stature said, “Come,” someone as socially conscious as Roland would all but break his neck to do just that.

  Ashcroft, of average height and medium, somewhat unimpressive build, still managed to stand out in a crowd. It was his demeanor and his manner that set him apart from the average man. Aside from his vast fortune, a fortune he had amassed on his own rather than just inheriting, Ashcroft was a man that made others stop talking and take notice of him.

  More than that, to listen to him. He took center stage whenever he opened his mouth. Wilson Ashcroft had a quality about him that belonged exclusively to leaders. It was more than just his piercing blue eyes, his thick mane of silver hair or his chiseled profile. It was something inherent that rose to the surface the moment he began to speak. The cadence was low, almost soothing, but it left the listener caught up in whatever subject Ashcroft raised.

  Crossing to her, Ashcroft plucked a goblet of red wine from her tray, smiled at her and nodded. “Thank you, my dear.”

  Since she’d arrived and donned this uniform, no one had even acknowledged that she was there or had rendered a service. That was apparently taken for granted since she was supposedly being paid for it. This gathering was obviously at Ashcroft’s behest and yet he treated her with respect and had just now acted as if he and she were equals in every sense of the word, rather than billionaire and servant.

  Charisma, she realized. The man had it in spades and was utilizing it effortlessly—and well.

  “And one for my friend here,” Ashcroft requested of her, nodding at the man whom he had referred to as “Mr. Walker.”

  “Don’t try to dull my senses, Wilson. You know what I want.” Walker took the goblet nonetheless and absently sipped from it.

  “Yes, I do,” Ashcroft acknowledged, lowering his voice although still keeping it pleasant. “However, if you don’t get hold of yourself, Mr. Walker, I’ll be forced to have one of my security people escort you from the premises to your vehicle and send you on your way.” He looked directly into his guest’s eyes. “Have I made myself clear?”

  The smile never left Ashcroft’s lips as he spoke, but Tiana felt a cold chill zip up and down her spine, all but freezing it.

  Tiana did her best to look as if she hadn’t heard any of the conversation. Instead, keeping her eyes forward, she continued weaving her way through the ever-growing gathering of guests.

  Though she kept focused on her task and oblivious to specific people, Tiana did manage to covertly keep an eye on the party’s host. Beneath hooded eyes she watched as Ashcroft worked the crowd, pausing to speak to one person here, another there, appearing to touch base with as many of the attendees as possible.

  Everyone, apparently, wanted to exchange a few words with the man and to bask, if possible, for a moment or two in his aura. The general supposition was that if he so chose to smile upon them, wonderful things might befall the recipient of the great man’s attention.

  Every so often, she would see Ashcroft being approached by someone he’d waved over. A thin, almost nondescript man in a suit who was obviously on his staff rather than an attendee at the party. Ashcroft and his employee would exchange a few words, or rather, Ashcroft would say something and the man, who she judged was in his mid-forties, would nod and then make his way to one of the guests, taking him from the large room and bringing him, she assumed, to another part of the mansion.

  Tiana watched this odd chain of events happen twice, then waited for the next time because she was determined that this time, she would follow the duo when they left the room.

  She was studying the scene so intently, she nearly jumped when she felt someone lightly touch her on the shoulder.

  To her relief, she found herself looking up into Brennan’s eyes.

  “Anything?” he asked her in a low whisper. Placing his tray down on the table in front of her, he began to arrange fresh goblets and pour wine into them.

  Tiana followed suit. She’d filled two goblets before she told him, “I think the man behind all this is Wilson Ashcroft.”

  Brennan, who for the most part had been in another area of the mansion entirely, allowed a note of surprise to register in his voice. He hadn’t seen this coming. “The philanthropist?”

  “It’s his house and seems to be his event,” she told Brennan. “Every so often, he has one of his security people take one of the guests off to some other area. Could be that’s where they’re keeping the girls—the live part of the entertainment for a selected few,” she bit off sarcastically.

  He turned from his refilled tray and looked at her for a moment. Ashcroft was supposed to be one of the good guys. “Doesn’t sound plausible.”

  She gave him something to chew on. All too often, well-known people—especially those with money—didn’t think that the rules applied to them.

  “Maybe he thinks he’s put too many people in the right offices to worry about getting caught—or even to consider that what he was involved in was wrong.”

  Was Janie here somewhere in this overly large collection of rooms? Was she being hurt—or worse—while she stood here, undecided and vacillating as to her next move?

  “You’ve got a point,” Brennan acknowledged, raising his tray up. It was time to return to his area and continue serving people who looked right through him. But before he left Tiana’s company, he warned, “Don’t do anything stupid without me.”

  She deliberately flashed a quick smile in his direction. “I’ll give you a quick c
all when I feel like doing something stupid,” she promised.

  All sorts of alarms went off in Brennan’s head. He knew he was going to have to keep tabs on Tiana as well as locating Ashcroft. That might be a bit more difficult than it had sounded, but something in his gut told him that he couldn’t trust Tiana not to get it into her head that she was just as bulletproof as the person she was after.

  * * *

  Almost twenty minutes passed before she saw Ashcroft sending off his security man to take charge of another one of his guests, separating him from the other party attendees.

  As before she saw that no words were exchanged with the guest, but the moment Ashcroft’s security man walked past him, the man Ashcroft had previously been talking with, a man who had, judging from the thickness of the white envelope, just handed Ashcroft a sizable donation, fell into step behind him.

  As unobtrusively as possible, Tiana followed the two men. Neither man seemed aware that she was nearby.

  Once clear of the main room, she set her tray down and was better able to shadow Ashcroft’s guest. Within moments, Tiana found herself in another part of the mansion, going down a narrow set of back stairs.

  There was nothing to make her think that this part of the thirty-room mansion was any different than the rest of it. But something inside her tensed with each step she took.

  For all she knew, she reasoned, the security escort could be taking the guest to an illegal poker game in the extravagantly finished basement. Or maybe to an area where guests could get high in peace.

  Although viable, neither scenario worked for her. Her gut told her this was about sex trafficking, maybe because she needed to find Janie, and soon, before all trace of her sister was made to disappear, along with all the other girls.

  This had to be the right place.

  She saw the security escort and the guest stop before a closed door at the end of a long, winding hallway. Tiana pressed herself against a wall, trying to become as small as humanly possible.