Witness

by Piper Davenport

  Dallas set his keys on the counter and moved to the fridge.

  “You get the master,” Brock said.

  “Why?”

  “Because you do.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Dallas is a nice guy,” he said, and grinned over his shoulder.

  I smiled. “Good to know.”

  Brock nodded to a room on the right as we walked down the hall. “Dallas is bunking here. I’m bunking in the room next to you. There’s a bathroom between me and Dal, and another in your room.”

  A wave of dizziness hit me, and I leaned against the wall to steady myself. Brock was next to me in a flash, wrapping his arm around my waist, and giving me a gentle squeeze. “I’ve got you.”

  I settled against him, letting him take the majority of my weight. “I feel sick.”

  “Okay, let’s get you to bed.”

  He walked me into the master. A large king-sized bed sat against the wall and was surprisingly not overly masculine. It wasn’t feminine either, but at least it didn’t have things like leather sheets or weird stuff like that. It was made, it looked clean, and it looked comfortable.

  Brock settled me on the bed.

  “I’m okay, Brock.” I took a deep breath. “If I’m going to be here a while, what should I do about my car? It’s at my apartment. Won’t that worry people if it looks like it’s been abandoned?”

  “We’ll take care of it. Just give me your keys and all the information and we’ll move it somewhere safe.”

  I nodded to the door adjacent to the bed. “Is that the bathroom?”

  “Yeah,” Brock said.

  “I kind of need to use it.”

  “I’ll help you in, okay?”

  I nodded and held onto his arm to steady myself.

  A large soaker tub, shower, double sinks; everything that made up a nicely appointed bathroom greeted me. I sat on the edge of the tub and Brock pushed a panel on the bathroom wall. A door popped open, causing me to gasp. “What’s that?”

  “It’s the panic room,” he said. “I say go to the panic room, you go to the panic room and you don’t come out until me, Dallas, or Jaxon gets you. Got it?”

  “Who’s Jaxon?”

  “You’ll meet him later.”

  “What if you tell me to go to the panic room before I meet Jaxon?”

  Brock faced me and chuckled. “You don’t miss much, huh?”

  “Not really, no. My mom says it’s annoying.”

  “How so?”

  “Ladies are supposed to be demure and let the men do the thinking.”

  “You’re not serious,” he deadpanned.

  “Very.” I shrugged. “She’s old-fashioned.”

  Brock dropped it, but I could see he was trying to decide whether or not to pick the subject back up. He didn’t. I was glad.

  “I’ll leave you alone to do your thing,” Brock said. “Call me if you need me.”

  “Thanks, Brock.”

  The rest of the day passed without incident and I crashed before ten in the unbelievably comfortable bed, in the not so comfortable prison disguised as a safe house.

  Bailey

  A FEW DAYS later, Brock pulled me into the great room and sat me down in the chair facing the window. He sat on the coffee table in front of me and his shoulders slumped forward. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again, appearing to be having difficulty finding the right words.

  “What is it?” I asked. “What happened?”

  “We found Ali.”

  A spark of hope ignited in my stomach. “You found her? Is she okay?”

  “No, Bailey. She didn’t make it.”

  The flame of hope snuffed out, I covered my face with my hands and burst into tears. Brock gave me a few minutes to process before he scooted closer to me, grasping my hands in his. He studied me, waiting for me to calm.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “We’re still trying to get all the facts, but she got caught in something bad and couldn’t get out.”

  I nodded, forcing back more tears. “What about the kids?”

  “There were no kids, Bailey. She was alone, but—”

  “No,” I gasped. “There were other kids. I think there were eight of them. We were trying to keep them from freaking out.”

  “Babe, you didn’t let me finish. I believe you. It looks like Ali left some clues, but not sure what they mean yet. Like I said, we’re figuring out the facts.”

  I squeezed his hands. “You have to find those children, Brock. Where’s my phone? I took pictures.”

  He studied me. “Please tell me you backed everything up, or sent those pictures to someone.”

  “Why?”

  “Your SIM card’s missing.”

  I bit my lip. “I did back them up, actually. As soon as I took them.”

  “Good girl.” He smiled and pulled out his phone. “Hey, it’s Brock. Bailey backed up her phone, pull what you can from her account. How long will that take? Seriously? Shit. Well, do what you can. Thanks.” He hung up. “Our tech team is on it, but it could take a couple of days. Do you think you’d be able to describe the kids?”

  “You mean for a sketch artist?”

  “Yes.” Brock smiled. “I’ll talk to Jaxon. He can come later today and see what you come up with.”

  “He’s a sketch artist?”

  “Not officially, but he’s an artist and we use him in situations like this because confidentiality is necessary.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Come on, I’ll get you some coffee.”

  * * *

  Jaxon Quinn arrived close to six that evening with dinner and a sketch pad. I noted his short, dark hair, tattoos, and all around pretty boy look, and determined he looked more like a rock star than an FBI agent.

  “Bailey, this is Jaxon,” Brock said. “We’ll eat and then you can give him the descriptions you remember.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I said, and shook his hand.

  “You too, Bailey.” Jaxon smiled.

  As we ate, I allowed the men to do the majority of the talking, happy to sit back and watch. Once we finished eating, Dallas and Jaxon grabbed the empty plates and took them to the kitchen, leaving Brock and me in the great room.

  “You okay?” Brock asked.

  I nodded with a smile. “I’m fine.”

  “Are you in pain?”

  “Not at the moment.”

  “I heard something about you,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “CPS interviewed Jay and Cammie, and according to the child psychiatrist, they both said you put your life on the line for them.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Hey.” He squeezed my knee. “Don’t minimize what you did. From what those kids said, they would be where the others are if it hadn’t been for you.”

  I shrugged. “They’re sweet kids. I couldn’t just let them be taken too.”

  “You ready, Bailey?” Jaxon called from the kitchen island.

  “Sure,” I said.

  “You and I are gonna talk more later,” Brock said.

  I didn’t respond as I joined Jaxon in the kitchen.

  Bailey

  JAXON LEFT THREE hours later with basic sketches of six of the children. Although I couldn’t quite recall every specific detail, I think I remembered the right hair color, size, and build for each child. I worried that it wouldn’t be enough to identify the children, but Brock assured me that I’d given them more information than any other source, and that every little bit helped.

  “I’m heading out for a few hours,” Dallas said.

  At the kitchen island, Brock appeared deep in thought, staring at his laptop screen, but he lifted his chin in acknowledgement and Dallas walked out of the house. Brock set his computer aside and made his way to me trying to get comfortable in one of the overstuffed chairs by the window. “You in pain?”

  I grimaced. “A little. How did you guess?
”

  He checked his watch. “Because you haven’t taken anything for a little over six hours.”

  I was a little surprised by his attention to detail, but I tried not to read into it.

  Dr. Stone had been by earlier that day with refills of my pain meds, something he’d done twice before. Brock stepped into the kitchen for the pills and water and I took them, then dropped my head onto the back of the chair.

  “What happened that night, Bailey?” he asked quietly as he sat on the sofa.

  I looked at him. “You’re not going to let this drop, are you?”

  “No. Whatever happened to Ali will happen again to some other girl, unless we catch the scumbags who did this. I need your help.”

  I took a deep breath. “I went to a party with Ali. I didn’t want to go, but she insisted. And there was this guy there, Asher, he gave me the creeps. I’d only met him once, but still, something about him just didn’t seem right to me. He watched Ali like she was a steak and he wanted a bite. It was… weird. Ali had taken something. A pill. I don’t know what it was, but I saw her wash it down with a cocktail. She partied like no one I’d ever met before, and at the beginning it was exciting, but then she started doing stuff that wasn’t like her. She went too far, but I had her back, so I stuck around and made sure I stayed sober. I stuck to water bottles I opened myself. No open cups offered by creepy guys.” I swallowed, squeezing my eyes shut.

  “It’s okay. I’m here.” He leaned forward and took my hand. “These are just memories, okay?”

  I nodded. “Then everything changed. Everyone left suddenly, and we were alone with Dean and his friends. I told Ali it was time to go, but she was so messed up. Dean started making out with her and she just ignored me.”

  Brock smiled sympathetically.

  “Everyone was just standing around watching them make out. It was so awkward. I kept yelling at her, and telling her I wanted to go, but she didn’t care. I tried to pull her away from him, but one of his goons grabbed me and wouldn’t let me go.”

  Brock frowned. “Why didn’t you just leave?”

  “Because she’s my friend and I couldn’t just leave her there with them. She was out of her mind!” I snapped.

  “Hey, no judgment, babe, just a question.”

  I stared at him. Wrong move. He was so sincere, and his face was so gorgeous, and I wanted to kiss him so bad, it made me sick to my stomach.

  “Can you keep going?” he asked.

  “Anyway, I was yelling at Dean, pointing out that Ali was high and probably drunk and maybe he should be a real man and not take advantage.” I squeezed my eyes shut. “And that was the last thing I remember. I woke up in a concrete basement with Ali and several kids. Ali and I were zip-tied, and so were a couple of the older kids. The younger ones were just sitting where they’d been ordered to sit. Jay and Cammie were the two kids closest to me. When I woke up, they were trying to wipe the blood off my forehead. Just a couple of kids, and they were trying to take care of me. I remember smelling bleach and something else, like vanilla. I wasn’t sure if it was air freshener or what, but it made me nauseous. I knew if we didn’t get out of the basement, we were screwed. I knew my arm was broken and I knew I must have looked bad, because they kept whispering about my wounds. Ali woke up a few minutes after me and we tried to put together a plan.”

  I shivered when Brock ran a thumb gently down my bruised eye. “What was the plan?”

  “Cammie wasn’t bound; neither were a couple of the others, so we tried to get them to find anything sharp. Scissors, knives, anything. Jay is the smartest little kid. I don’t think I’ve ever met a kid so on top of things. He was able to guide his sister, keeping her calm and encouraging her like a big brother ought to. She found bolt cutters and when you see a tiny little six-year-old holding a pair of bolt cutters that weigh almost as much as she does, the thought of her wielding those to cut your restraints is a little overwhelming.”

  “I bet,” Brock agreed.

  “One of the little ones wanted to help, I think he was five, but Cammie is six and she said she felt she could cut the zips off us better than Caleb—” I gasped. “Caleb. He’s the little blond one I couldn’t remember. His name’s Caleb. Tell Jax. Tell him now in case we forget.”

  “Okay, babe.” Brock smiled as he grabbed his phone and sent a text. “Done.”

  “Cammie was amazing. She got Ali’s ties cut and then Ali took it from there. She wanted to do mine because she said she didn’t want me in anymore pain, although, Ali didn’t look much better than me. She cut me and the rest of the kids loose and then we looked for a way out. There was a window we could get to if we scaled, but that meant that one of us had to stay behind to lift the kids up. Ali said it had to be her because I only had one usable arm, so she hoisted me up first, high enough for me to use my legs and good arm to crawl out. I then turned around and reached down for Cammie, then Jay.” I felt the tears clog my throat.

  “It’s okay, Bailey.” Brock took my hands again.

  “Someone was coming, and Ali waved for me to go. There wasn’t time to get the other kids, so I had to go. She threw my purse at me and hissed that I was to go and not look back. I had two of them, and I knew that if I could get them somewhere safe, at least they would be okay. Then I would come back for Ali. Maybe I could even find some help. So, we ran. We ran until Cammie fell and she just couldn’t go any further. I picked her up, but for obvious reasons, once the adrenaline started to wear off, I just didn’t have the strength to keep going. The pain was overwhelming. So, Jay and I saw a house without any lights on. It appeared to be boarded up, so we tried to find a way in. We did. I told them not to touch anything, watch where they stepped, and to stay close to me. I would try my best to protect them. We found that room and saw that it had a mattress which was gross, but really at this point, we were exhausted and didn’t care, and we all just kind of collapsed on it. Cammie settled beside me and Jay wrapped his little arms around both of us.” Tears streamed down my face. “Seriously, that kid is the most incredible kid on the planet.”

  Brock nodded.

  “When we woke up the next day, I saw my phone was dead, and the kids were still frightened, so we sat for a little while just talking. I needed a plan. But you guys came in and the rest is history.” I cocked my head. “Why were you there?”

  “Reports of kids going into a known abandoned meth house had a few of the neighbors on edge.”

  “It’s good it was you who showed up and not…” I wiped my tears and took a labored breath.

  “It’s okay. It’s over.”

  I closed my eyes again, the memories flooding in. “I heard Ali scream. I heard her from almost a block away. I knew. I just knew she wasn’t okay.”

  “Do you remember anyone speaking Russian?” he asked.

  I shook my head as Brock reached out and pulled me to him and I broke down. I let myself relax into Brock, let him hold me, and took comfort in his protective arms.

  Brock kissed my forehead and wiped my tears, keeping me close to him. “The kids were being ransomed.”

  I sat up. “What?”

  “Jay and Cammie’s parents were told that if they didn’t send three-point-two million dollars to an off-shore account that the kids would be killed.”

  I gasped. “Oh my god.”

  “You saved their lives, Bailey.”

  “But what about the other ones. I failed them,” I cried.

  He shook his head. “No, you didn’t. Look, we have that off-shore account number and we’ll be able to trace the other parents. What’s disturbing is that no kids matching the descriptions you gave Jax have been reported missing. At least none that resemble the sketches, so there are some scared parents out there who are trying to work this on their own, but we’ll find them, Bailey. I promise. We could never have gotten this far if you hadn’t put your life at risk for those kids.”

  “You’ll find them?”

  “Promise.”

  I yawned. “Why am
I so sleepy all of a sudden?”

  “I gave you a muscle relaxer as well as your oxy.”

  “Sneaky,” I said on a yawn.

  Brock lifted me out of the chair and I wrapped my arms around his neck as he carried me to the bedroom. Settling me into bed, he pulled the blankets around me. “Sleep, Bailey.”

  I yawned again. “’Kay.”

  Bailey

  ONE WEEK LATER, I padded into the kitchen in search of my pain meds and something that might help me sleep. I found the pill bottle with my Oxy, but couldn’t quite maneuver the childproof cap. “Shit.”

  “Bailey?” Brock whispered.

  I squeaked in fright and faced him, drawing in a quick breath at the sight of his bare chest. I got less than a second of a glance as he pulled on a T-shirt and obstructed my view, but it was enough to make me want more.

  “Sorry, did I wake you?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “I was looking over some notes when I heard your door open. Are you in pain?”

  I handed him the pill bottle. “A little, but I can’t get this open.”

  He smiled and popped the cap, tipping a pill into my hand before closing the bottle again.

  I dropped it in my mouth and took a swig of water. “Thanks.”

  “You okay?”

  I shrugged. “Honestly? I don’t know. I can’t sleep, but I don’t know if it’s because I’m freaked or in pain…or maybe both.”

  Brock crossed his arms over his chest and studied me. “You know nothing’s going to happen to you, right?”

  I bit my lip. “Not really, no. I mean, I know you’re a highly skilled badass and all, but that doesn’t mean when these people are caught, and the trial is over that they can’t get to me some other way.”

  “I’m not gonna let anyone touch you again.”

  “I know you believe that, but what happens if it takes forever to find them? I mean, you didn’t sign up to watch me indefinitely. Plus, am I going to be stuck inside all the time? I might go a little crazy if that’s the case, and you might go crazy babysitting me twenty-four, seven.”