Wrath (Faith McMann Trilogy Book 3)

by T. R. Ragan

  Faith nodded.

  “She’s the one who mentioned the name Patrick,” Rage said. “Isn’t that right?”

  Faith nodded again.

  “She wasn’t the first person to mention that name,” Rage told Faith. “Fin, the tattoo artist, also mentioned a Patrick, but then Fin got blown to pieces, and we never had the chance to question him—remember?” Rage didn’t wait for a response. “Without a surname it all seemed a bit useless.” Rage shrugged and added, “Since we didn’t have anything else to go by, I made a list of every Patrick I could find within a fifty-mile radius of Sacramento.” Rage scratched the side of her head. “I had no idea there were that many people with the same name. Without a social security number, or a last name, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. We need more information; otherwise it’s wasted time.”

  “Well, earlier today,” Faith said, leaning closer, “Hudson told me he had a dream where he saw the car, a black BMW, and he also caught a glimpse of Patrick’s face.”

  “This is huge!”

  Faith nodded. “After I got off the phone, I made some calls and did some research. Hundreds of thousands of BMWs are sold every year in the United States alone. I also talked to a local BMW dealer, and he said it would be impossible to track down a particular black BMW sold to a man without a last name.”

  Rage rubbed her forehead. “Yeah, it doesn’t help much, does it? What else did Hudson say about him?”

  “He’s a white man with black hair. He guessed his age to be the same as my brother, which would mean he could be in his midthirties.”

  “White man, midthirties, dark hair. Drives a BMW. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “Thanks,” Faith said. “I called Agent Burnett with the FBI to let her know.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She’ll let me know if anything comes of it.”

  There was a commotion outside the entrance to the bar. The door flew open. A young woman stumbled inside, nearly falling to the floor before she was able to put a hand to the wall and catch her balance. Brown, stringy hair framed a thin, pale face.

  A short, stocky fellow walked in behind her and gave her a push, sending her forward on wobbly legs. This time she did fall on her knees and hands. She looked strung out. Eyes wide, pupils dilated.

  Faith was about to go to her and try to help, but Rage shook her head and mouthed the words, Not yet.

  Eddie came forward and helped the girl to her feet. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asked the man standing behind her.

  The man pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit up. He looked around, his gaze stopping on Rage and then settling on Faith.

  There he was. Eddie’s cousin, Gage. Faith recognized this particular face right away. He had a scar resembling the one Faith was left with after the attack. His deep, craggy mark began below his left earlobe and then curved over and down his chin. It was the other scar that had left him disfigured, though. Thick and wide, the scar ran straight down from his hairline and across his right eye, stopping at the top of his cheekbone. It was safe to say he’d been in a few scuffles over the past forty or so years. He wore heavy work boots, and the floorboards rattled with each step he took their way.

  Rage looked at him. “What do you want?”

  “Think I don’t recognize you?” he asked Faith, blowing a thick stream of cigarette smoke into her face.

  “Think she cares?” Rage asked.

  His gaze moved to Rage. “You’re the sick one, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “The newspeople love a good story, and they sure like talking about the girl with brain cancer. Funny you two happened to show up here at my establishment out of the blue.” He looked at his cousin. “Isn’t that funny, Eddie?”

  The two people sitting near the door left some money on the table and headed out, careful not to draw any attention their way. The three men and one woman sitting at the table were all smiles, as if they’d been waiting for the entertainment to begin.

  Eddie shook his head at Gage and tried to warn him. “They’re not alone.”

  Beast appeared just then. He stood a foot taller and at least a foot wider than Eddie. Faith waited for Beast to say something, but he simply stood there, quiet as a mouse.

  “It’s time for you three to move on outta here,” Gage said, loud enough for everyone in the bar to hear.

  “You heard the man,” the toothless female shouted.

  By the time Faith reached into her purse and got to her feet, Beast had Eddie by the throat. A chair crashed to the floor. Beast dragged him to the wall and held him there; Eddie’s feet dangled in midair.

  Mötley Crüe’s “Shout at the Devil” had replaced Ozzy’s song.

  “Where’s the girl?” Beast asked, the veins in his neck bulging, his face crimson.

  Unsure of what to do, Faith looked at Rage.

  Rage pointed her way. “Behind you!”

  Faith pivoted on her feet. At the same time Gage hooked an arm around her waist, Faith jabbed his arm with her Taser and pressed the button.

  Gage groaned in protest, stumbled backward, and fell to the ground, his arms and legs quivering.

  A beer bottle flew past Faith, barely missing her head before it struck the wall and shattered. It was the redhead from the other table who had thrown the bottle. She stood in the middle of the room, her hands curled into fists at her sides.

  Rage lunged for the woman, wrapping her arms and legs around her thick middle to stop her from going after Faith.

  Beast dropped Eddie and came after the redhead, who was now punching Rage in an attempt to get her off. The redhead’s three male friends all stood at once, blocking Beast’s path.

  Big mistake.

  Beast went ballistic. He took hold of the closest man’s arm and snapped it in half. Bone crunched. The man screeched, an ear-piercing sound that made Faith wince.

  Without hesitation Beast picked up the next guy in line and tossed him across the room. He slid across the floor, headfirst, striking a row of stools lined up at the bar.

  The third man, having the benefit of a few seconds to think, grabbed a wooden chair and held it above his head, ready to defend himself. Before Beast could get to him, Faith stepped up from behind and jabbed the Taser into the man’s side, giving him a jolt of electricity. He went down. The chair toppled to the side.

  The couple dancing in the corner had disappeared through the back.

  The redhead Rage was riding liking a bull was now shouting obscenities and going round and round like a dog chasing its tail. Rage hung on tight until Beast got a hold of the woman and picked her up off the ground, allowing Faith to help Rage off the roller-coaster ride.

  “Are you OK?” Faith asked.

  “Just a little dizzy. Don’t let go of me.”

  Faith helped her get to a chair.

  Rage rested the palm of her hand on her forehead. “I told you he was in one of his moods.”

  Rage wasn’t kidding.

  When the woman refused to shut her mouth, Beast wrapped an arm around her throat and squeezed until she passed out. She dropped to the floor.

  Eddie had managed to crawl halfway across the room by the time Beast grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him back to where his cousin lay on the ground. Beast placed a booted foot on Gage’s throat and pressed down.

  Gage coughed as he tried to get the boot off his throat, but it was no use.

  Beast pressed harder until Gage’s face turned blue. “Where’s the girl?” Beast asked.

  “Let him go,” Eddie said. “You’re gonna kill him.”

  “Where’s the girl?”

  “OK. OK. Let up on him, will ya?”

  Beast took some pressure off the man’s throat. “Talk.”

  Eddie was bent over at an awkward angle, his hair still wrapped in Beast’s grasp. “I d-don’t know where the g-girl is,” Eddie stuttered. “Nobody does.”

  “Did she run away?” Faith asked.

  “I do
n’t know. I told you. Nobody knows!”

  Beast gave Eddie’s hair a good yank, then looked around the room. “Everybody out. Now!”

  The young woman Gage had pushed through the door when he first entered made a quick exit. So did the Willie Nelson look-alike sitting at the bar.

  Beast used his free hand to pull out a pistol. He waved it at the guy who had been thrown into the bar stools and said, “Grab your friends, and get out of here!”

  This time they got the message. Two of them ran out the front entrance, leaving the third guy to drag the redhead out onto the sidewalk.

  Rage shut the door and locked it.

  Beast aimed his gun at Gage’s head. Judging by the wild look in his eyes, Faith knew he was done talking.

  “Don’t kill him,” Eddie pleaded, no doubt sensing Beast’s frustration.

  And Eddie wasn’t the only one who sensed a change in the air. Faith could smell the two cousins’ vulnerability. These guys knew something, and they were scared. “Shoot him,” Faith said. “I’m tired of all these tight-lipped creeps protecting one another and getting away with abusing young girls. It has to stop.”

  “I don’t know,” Rage said. “What would we do with their bodies?”

  “I don’t care,” Faith said, hoping to scare Eddie enough to make him talk. “We need to set an example right here, right now.”

  “There’s gonna be a meeting tomorrow night,” Eddie sputtered.

  Faith angled her head, surprised by his admission. “That’s very interesting,” she told Eddie, trying to play tough. “Now, was that so difficult?”

  “Who is going to be at this meeting?” Rage asked.

  “Shut up!” Gage told his cousin, prompting Beast to press hard on his throat again.

  “Jesus. You’re gonna kill him,” Eddie wailed.

  “You know what you have to do if you want to save your cousin,” Rage said.

  “All the important people are going to be there,” Eddie blurted. “A couple of la-di-da district attorneys, and that lawyer, Max something or other. You know, the one from Los Angeles who used to be on that celebrity show. And some young girls will be there, too.”

  Beast let up some, allowing Gage to catch his breath.

  As soon as the last few words came out of Eddie’s mouth, Gage closed his eyes and cursed.

  Faith pointed a finger at Eddie. “What did you say?”

  Eddie’s gaze darted around the room as if he was searching for the answer.

  “You said some ‘young girls’ were going to be there,” Faith reminded him.

  “Yeah, yeah, that’s what I said.”

  “What girls?”

  “I don’t know. Just girls.”

  “How many?” Rage asked. “And how old?”

  “A few,” Eddie said. “Mostly between the age of ten and fifteen is my guess.”

  “This is ridiculous,” Faith told Beast. “Taser him! Shoot him in the leg. Make him talk!”

  Eddie’s eyes widened. “I only know what Jimmy told me the other day.”

  “They’re going to kill you for talking,” Gage said. “We’re both fucked.”

  Beast slapped Eddie across the back of the head. “Who’s bringing the girls?”

  “I swear I have no idea.”

  “So all these men are coming to Sacramento to meet with whom?” Faith asked, doing her best to keep her cool.

  “With Aster Williams and his men,” Eddie said. “Who do you think?”

  Another slap across the head.

  “Ouch.” Eddie rubbed his head. “The mayor’s brother is supposed to be there, too. They’re trying to figure out a way to make sure you and that kid of yours are taken care of once and for all.”

  Beast kicked him in the shin.

  “Fuck! What did you do that for?”

  Beast ignored the question. “Who told you about this meeting?”

  “I already told you. Jimmy did. He was bragging about moving on up. Yap yap yap. It’s all I ever hear.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Gage told Eddie.

  “Keep Eddie here,” Beast said as he let go of his hair and grabbed Gage instead, then dragged him across the wood floor and into an alleyway located behind the kitchen.

  “You said a mayor’s brother would be at the meeting,” Rage told Eddie. “What mayor are you talking about?”

  “I’ve said enough.”

  “Seriously?” Rage asked. “You don’t think I’ll shoot your ass?” She pressed her gun against the side of his head.

  Faith readied her Taser. “We’ll start with a little jolt to his system,” Faith told Rage, “and see if it will help his memory.”

  Eddie raised his hands in surrender. “The mayor of Sacramento,” he said. “The mayor’s brother is the reason most of these guys get a get-out-of-jail-free card. They’ve got links to judges and lawyers, too. Nobody can stop them.”

  They heard a scream, followed by Gage begging for his life. Next came a muffled curse, a clang as if two cymbals had been banged together, and then a couple of grunts were followed by the sound of the door coming open.

  Beast walked back into the room. “We got what we need,” he told Faith and Rage. Then he grabbed hold of Eddie’s arm and pulled him close. “You and your cousin may want to get out of town,” he told him. “The sooner the better, because if anyone gets word I was here and that you told me when and where the meeting is being held, you and your cousin are dead.”

  “We can’t just up and leave!”

  Beast pushed him away. Eddie stumbled backward and fell to the ground. “Have it your way. But if and when they find out you talked, they’ll probably kill you. And if they don’t kill you, I will.”

  ELEVEN

  When Faith came downstairs the next morning, Hudson was eating pancakes as fast as Lilly could make them. Faith ruffled her son’s hair, kissed the side of his head, then found a large mug and filled it with coffee. Mom didn’t have to say anything at all for Faith to see that she wasn’t pleased with her. Mom didn’t appreciate Faith sneaking out every night; she didn’t like worrying about her. But they both knew Faith would do the same thing if push came to shove.

  Faith didn’t bother with cream and sugar any longer. Too much work. She dragged herself to the family room, where Dad was flipping through channels. He was quiet.

  “Are you angry with me, too?”

  “Nobody’s upset with you.”

  She didn’t believe it, but that didn’t stop her from taking a seat. She drank her coffee and stared at the television screen as he flipped through the channels. She sat up a little taller when she recognized Detective O’Sullivan. “Wait. Don’t change the channel. What’s going on?”

  He turned up the volume.

  O’Sullivan was standing in front of a three-story office building in Rancho Cordova. A long line of people, mostly men, were being led out of the building and into police cars. Some of them tried to hide their faces from the cameras. Others didn’t seem to care.

  “More than fifty johns were arrested early this morning,” the reporter said. “Many are calling it entrapment since advertisements were arranged by undercover cops on the Internet. The suspects face up to a year on misdemeanor promotion of prostitution charges. The men’s ages range from twenty-five to seventy-six.”

  The camera zoomed in for a close-up of O’Sullivan. “We’re sending a strong message,” he told the reporter. “Letting citizens know that people who pay for sex will be treated as criminals.”

  “What do you say to the people who believe johns are victims?”

  He shook his head. “These men are exploiting and victimizing trafficked females and males. They are not victims.”

  “All suspects so far have professed their innocence,” the reporter went on once the camera panned back to her. “Legal experts are saying they don’t expect any of the people arrested to face jail time. According to Detective O’Sullivan, though, the message has been sent. Johns will continue to be targeted since they are the pe
ople funding the trade that supports violence against women. The sheer number of arrests has sent shock waves through the state, upsetting marriages and law offices alike as these men and their lawyers set out to prove their innocence.”

  Dad turned down the volume, looked over his shoulder to make sure Hudson was preoccupied, then looked at Faith. “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ve been out every night since Hudson has been home. You’re not getting enough sleep, and we hardly ever see you eat. You can’t keep up like this for too much longer. You’ll crash and burn.”

  She raked a hand through dirty, unkempt hair and then scooted closer to him and lowered her voice. “There’s a lot going on. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you about a meeting I attended. I’ve found a group of people to help us.”

  “I’ve been right here, Faith. Why haven’t you told me about this?”

  She raised her hands in frustration. “When have we had time to talk?”

  “If you were home for more than five minutes, we could have squeezed it in. Don’t shut me out, Faith.”

  She sighed. “Let’s not fight about this. We’re both tired.”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “I’ve been getting plenty of sleep. Where were you last night?”

  The truth was Faith had been worried about her dad. The long days and nights spent searching for Hudson had taken a toll, but he was stubborn and wouldn’t back off. She needed to come clean. “Two of the people on the list are cousins who happen to own a bar in the area,” she told him. “Beast managed to get them to talk last night. If they are to be believed, Aster Williams will be meeting at a warehouse in East Sacramento with some very important people.”

  “We should call the FBI,” Dad said.

  She shook her head. “We can’t do that. There might be young girls brought to the meeting.” Faith placed a hand on Russell’s arm. “What if Lara is one of them?” The thought made her heart swell. “If that’s the case, I can’t risk having this meeting shut down.”

  “If Lara is brought to this warehouse,” Dad said, his voice also low, “it seems even more of a reason to get the FBI involved.”

  “You’re not listening to a word I’m telling you. The traffickers in the upper hierarchy are related to mayors. They are judges and lawyers and district attorneys. If word gets out, any one of these men could shut the meeting down so fast our heads would spin.” She released a heavy sigh. “We could end up right back where we started. Knocking on one pedophile’s door at a time, searching for a needle in a haystack.”