by Claire Kane
Where is she? Lacey asked.
She’s somewhere in Queen Anne, I think. Smaller place. I’m not sure whether I can lead you there, sorry, but I’ll try. There was a brief pause, and suddenly a clear image of the home materialized in her mind, along with the full address, and even directions, as though she were looking at a map on her phone. The image was so sharp she knew she’d remember it when she woke.
Okay, she said. Let’s go. She readied herself to wake up from the vision, to collect herself after her “fainting spell” and apologize to everyone, followed by a very quick exit from Fauntleroy. But she wasn’t waking up. Victor, hurry and release me, so we can go get some help.
I’m trying, he said. I don’t know what’s happening.
The vision faded, like a flicker, and in that split second she saw Jack’s face over hers. There was a loud wave of shocked murmurs. And then she was back to seeing Shayla.
It didn’t work, Lacey said. Just release me however you did before.
That’s what I’m doing. His voice was just as surprised and frustrated as hers.
More flashes and flickers jerked her back and forth between scenes, akin to a TV’s fuzzy signal or radio stations garbling together.
What’s going on, Victor? It started to make Lacey nauseous, like being subjected to a never-ending fair ride. Does this have to do with you being MIA recently? Talk to me. Or—or talk to your cat.
I can’t get in touch with Rao, he said, and his voice sounded pained. I-I don’t know what’s happening to me, Lacey. Give my mind a moment to settle. Maybe we need to just wait a few minutes, or I don’t know.
Lacey felt herself grimace. I just know my head’s starting to pound, and this is no time to be getting sick. The flickering stopped, and Lacey drew in a deep breath.
She watched as Victor stepped closer to the chained-up woman and perched beside her on the bed, giving Lacey the kind of view she’d have if she were sitting beside a friend. Pale blue eyes flickered up and rested straight ahead, feeling like they were gazing into Lacey’s eyes.
Is she sensing you? Lacey asked.
I don’t know, he said.
Tell her everything will be okay, she said softly. That help is on the way.
“Everything will be okay,” Victor said aloud to the trembling girl. “Help’s coming.” Shayla tilted her head, as if discerning something, blond strands lying across an unwashed cheek.
Ask her if she sees you, Lacey thought.
Victor’s face closed in closer on hers. Lacey could see clearly the tired red cracks in the whites of her eyes. “Can you see me?” he tried. The pale blue eyes narrowed in thought.
“Can you see me?” he asked again. “Can you hear me?” Victor turned his thoughts back to Lacey. They’ve doped her up on something. I think she senses me.
Shayla’s mouth opened a touch, and her glazed eyes seemed to focus ever so slightly on Victor, before widening in hazy alarm. She brought her arms across her chest in a protective gesture, as much as her chains allowed. “Who… are you?”
THIRTY-FIVE
She sees you!
The sound of a door opening interrupted the moment. The vision flashed to Geo entering through an orange door. And then Lacey was released unexpectedly. Touching her head and blinking, Lacey sat up with a start. Shiny black interior, leather seats. New car smell. She was in Jack’s Porsche.
“Rise and shine,” Jack said, placing a hand on her knee. She was seat-belted in, and he was driving her somewhere fast and smooth down the dark streets.
Victor! Lacey called. Victor!
There was no response. Lacey touched her head again, consumed by worry.
“That was quite the show you gave at the ball,” Jack said. “I was just about to take you to the hospital.” He glanced at her. “Are you okay?”
Nodding, Lacey said, “Yes.”
“That’s the second time you’ve fainted in front of me. I’d like to think it has to do with your attraction to me, you know, taking your breath away. But something else is the matter.”
Still feeling faint, Lacey peered out her window. Bushes and trees whizzed by beyond Jack’s window. To her right was the Puget Sound, dark and silent in the night. Victor! she tried again. His silence troubled her more than it should. What could she do now?
“You’re still looking really pale.” Jack shot another glance at her, this time rubbing the back of her neck, where some of her French twist had come loose. “You look almost… afraid.”
Should she say anything to Jack? How could she, without it sounding completely irrational, though? Thinking it over, she came to one option that wouldn’t make her sound completely loony, or divulge her secret relationship with Victor. She turned to him, and said, “It’s just… I was just thinking about Geo.”
“Yeah, what about him?” Jack’s eyebrow arched, and he resumed looking ahead, his car smoothly zipping around curves.
Lacey wondered at his response; not a week back, he’d seemed ready to kill the man the next time he found him, after Lacey had shown Jack the proof of what Geo had been up to. She sat up and shook her head clear. “It’s just… I have a feeling the cops haven’t found Geo. And some girls are in danger.”
Jack gave a sidelong glance, surprise clear in his eyes.
She decided to take a leap, even if it meant a little stretch of the truth. “In the stuff I got from Geo’s office, I saw a picture of a girl with blond hair to her shoulders and these really pale blue eyes. I realized I remember that girl from when I worked at the university…”
“Yeah?” Jack said, now clutching the steering wheel with both hands. “You worked at the college?”
“Yes, just briefly.” She shrugged in her red dress. “Her name was Shayla; Shayla Anderson, and she’s been missing over winter break. I’ve pieced some things together tonight.”
“Missing?” Jack asked, once again interjecting while shooting her a funny look. “She’s not on Christmas vacation or something?”
Lacey remembered Rebecca and Emily thinking so, and the media hadn’t actually run a story on her missing, but she decided again to call it as she saw it, somehow. She needed help. She needed Jack on her side about this, even if he had freaked out at her earlier, especially now that Victor was MIA again. She almost smiled at the thought of an angel having to fight a fuzzy “reception.” She paused. “Yes, she’s missing.”
“I think I see where you’re going with this,” he said. “With what you found on Geo, to do with drugs and pornography, I mean. But how do you know this girl is missing? I mean, how solid of a case do we have here?”
Lacey understood; making accusations without evidence was frowned upon in polite society. Unfortunately, her evidence happened to be supernatural. Though there was no denying its validity, she had no idea how she’d persuade the police that she’d gotten a solid lead from a friendly ghost. She punted instead. “I still have ties with KZTB. Someone I know was tipped off about this young woman, Shayla, missing. What my contact gave me was undeniable. I’d say it’s a solid case.” The lies were really starting to pile up, and she hated that fact. But pressing her full lips together, she soothed herself with the thought that a couple of lies were worth it to rescue Shayla. “I can’t ignore that. Especially if Geo is involved.”
Jack stayed silent, simply rubbing his chin a moment, his brow furrowed in worry.
“Listen, Jack,” she said, “I recognize the place Shayla was at in the photos. I think if we just go there tonight, we can maybe help free her.”
Jack shook his head immediately. “This isn’t something you or I should be dealing with. This is something the police are trained to handle.” He glanced at the back seat, to where her purse sat, and said, “I know you pack heat, but this is way over our heads. Let me make the call to the authorities, okay? And you and I can head home to my place, tuck in Grandma and catch a Netflix marathon of crime dramas—our favorite.”
She managed not to scoff but instead kept her voice flat. “I’m sorr
y, but that’s not an option for me tonight,” she said, dismayed at how little Jack really seemed to know her. How could he ask to snuggle in front of a film in the wake of a break-up, to say nothing of the fact that Lacey was trying desperately to liberate a girl from a fate worse than death. Netflix was not on the schedule any time soon. “I can’t relax until Geo is taken down and Shayla’s freed.”
“And you want to do this yourself?”
“Not completely. I’m not opposed to calling the cops.”
Jack drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “Okay, I have an idea. Here’s the deal—we’ll head over to this place where you think Geo is holding Shayla. I’ll do some of my own investigating, and once I can see things with my own two eyes, then we can call the cops.”
Lacey hated how men underestimated her, but if that was the deal they had to make in order for Jack to cooperate some, she was game. “Okay, deal. Here’s the address.”
*
The sleek luxury car pulled up to the home’s sidewalk like a panther, purring. “Why don’t you stay here?” Jack said to Lacey.
Lacey unbuckled and went for her purse in the back seat. “You don’t need to worry about my protection.”
Jack gave a frustrated smile. “Of course not,” he said. “But Geo might just open the door to me. You? No chance in Hell, since I’m sure he believes it was you who sicced the police on him.”
“Well, I did,” she replied grimly. “And if I see him again…”
Jack’s smile hardened, and he slipped out of the car. “Just… just stay behind me. I still want you, and I’m not about to let someone break you, especially if you’re just being careless.”
Lacey ducked out of the Porsche and felt her collar get hot. She wanted to fume at his stupid arrogance, but she kept it together, gritted her teeth, and nodded, pretending to be an obedient little girl; still, she walked beside him to the front door.
The house looked like any other house on the block, but the memory of Victor’s latest vision was still crystal clear, and she knew they’d arrived. Overhead, an unexpected cloud bank crawled ominously across the sky to hide the winter moon, sending shivers through Lacey. Jack shot her a sidelong glance. “Afraid of the dark?”
She wanted to punch him but said nothing. Instead, she stepped to the side of the peephole to ensure Geo wouldn’t see her when he came to the door. Jack raised his fist to knock, then hesitated and fumbled with the doorknob. To Lacey’s surprise, it clicked, and the door opened with a giveaway creak.
“So much for sneaking in,” Jack muttered. “You’d think, for a guy on the lam, he’d at least lock his doors at night.” He pursed his lips in thought. “Maybe he’s not home.”
Lacey answered only with a fiercely determined look.
“Okay, okay,” he said, half-chuckling. “You’re a force of nature, little lady. Let’s go inside. And this time, I insist on being first.”
Lacey scoffed quietly but gave him the benefit of preserving his warped sense of manhood. What had happened to the guy whom she thought she’d been getting to know? Where was the kindness? The nobility she’d seen?
Knock it off, Lacey, she told herself. This was no time to think about her love life. Setting her jaw, she marched in after Jack, her gun held low, but ready.
The two of them crept through the house, scanning the darkened living room, kitchen, and hallways. Nothing looked out of place, and the interior was clean, if not spotlessly so. Were she to have visited this place under normal circumstances, she would have thought she were in about as average a home as one could find, for the area. Almost too soon, they completed their sweep of the house. Nothing resembling a prostitution ring, or even a frat party, could be found.
“Seems this friend of yours gave us the wrong address,” Jack said, sounding bemused. “I think we ought to quietly lock up, then take off before we get picked up by the cops for breaking and entering.”
Lacey chewed her bottom lip. She was sure this was the place. But, was Victor wrong? Had he shown her the wrong house? She looked at Jack. “Is there a basement?”
Even in the dark, Lacey could see the roll of his eyes. “Did you see a stairwell?”
She frowned, feeling frustrated and foolish. “No,” she began slowly.
“Then,” Jack said, striding up to her and taking her arm, “I say we go home, take care of your grandma, and spend a little time together so I can make it up to you for tonight’s little slip.” He moved away, tugging her along behind him.
“But—”
He stopped, and turned a hot glare on her. “Look, Lacey,” he said sufferingly, “it’s getting late. I’m tired, a bit cranky, and really rather embarrassed that my date passed out and started babbling on the floor in front of some of the most influential people in this city. I’m trying to be nice, since I’m a nice guy, but I hate to say you’re kind of pushing that.
“I’ve already humored you, so let’s go do something enjoyable, rather than chasing dead leads.”
Lacey jerked out of his grip. She was done with him. “Fine,” she said flatly. “You go home. I’ll get Nainai in the morning. But I swear, if I find you’ve done anything to her that I don’t approve of—”
“As if she’d even remember it,” he muttered.
Lacey knew her answering smack would leave a nice welt. “You make me sick,” she said. “Get out. I’ll handle this myself even if it means I have to search every house on this block myself.”
For a moment, she wondered at the rage in his expression. The muscles in his neck strained, and veins appeared in his forehead. Despite the lack of light, his eyes seemed to practically glow, though she knew it was just her imagination; still, she felt an unnerving headache boiling to life inside her skull. She braced herself to block any attempt he might make to hit her. Nothing happened. Instead, he swallowed hard and took a step backward.
“Fine,” he said with a cold calm that disturbed her even more than fiery anger would have. “Fine. You want to play burglar, you go right ahead. But don’t blame me if the cops just happen to show up while you’re in the middle of your little games, especially when I offered you a nice, safe night in a warm house.
“And you know what?” he added. “I need your keycard on my desk first thing tomorrow morning. I hope the college takes you back.” He spun for the door.
“What happened to you, Jack?” Lacey said, taking an unconscious step toward him. “Where is the guy who bought me dinner? Who treated me so kindly? Who, just earlier tonight, I was starting to think about getting serious with some day?”
A howl of laughter pealed from him. “Oh, now you tell me,” he said. “You couldn’t have just said yes earlier, when things were going so well. Well, now you get to see the wrath of Jack Beals.”
“My gosh,” she whispered, backing away as he turned toward her. “You’re acting like a man possessed.”
Jack barked another laugh and strode toward her. Without warning, Lacey went blind as a burst of light filled the room.
“What is going on here?” It was a familiar, nasally voice. Geo. “Jack? Ling,” the photographer spat. “How did you find me here?”
Still dazed, Lacey didn’t see Geo’s lunge. He tackled her around her midsection, blasting her to the floor. Her head rebounded off the tile, and stars exploded across her vision. He slapped her hard. “You little slut,” he said, his face practically pressing into hers. “If it hadn’t been for—”
The blast of a gunshot deafened her, setting her ears ringing and drowning out anything else he might have said.
THIRTY-SIX
Geo collapsed on her like a sodden mattress, and several seconds passed before she realized she was actually screaming.
Heaving herself out from under the lifeless form of Trend’s late photographer, she rolled onto all fours and struggled to get upright. She found herself facing the main hallway. In the light, she noticed that the coat closet door was wide open; a square of pale, fluorescent light radiated up from the closet floor. Vague
sounds of weeping women wafted from below. “He had a trap door,” she whispered. “Thank you, Victor.”
She scrambled desperately toward it, ears still burning, only to jerk to a stop as a powerful hand seized her around the waist and spun her around. “We’re going home,” Jack said. “Now.”
“Let go of me,” she said, flailing. But it was in vain. He seemed to have the strength of five men. She kicked, clawed, and bit, but his grip was iron. After a few moments’ struggle, he hefted her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She hammered ineffectually on his back. To her surprise, however, he turned away from the front door and began carrying her toward the coat closet. She watched in amazement as the door swung shut on a hungry gust of wind that seemed to come out of nowhere. Suddenly, she was dumped unceremoniously on the floor in front of the coat closet. Her bruised head slammed against the door jamb, and she winced, grabbing the spot instinctively.
“You know,” he said conversationally, “we were going to be something special, you and I. I’d gotten tired of the same old pretty faces coming and going every day. And vice, well, it has its virtues, but even that gets old when it’s the same girls over and over and over. I wanted to make a fresh start. Maybe… get a girl that was mine, and mine alone. And you really had something special about you. Heavenly,” he said, as if trying out the word. “You really did bring out the best in me, and that was something I’ve really, really missed.”
She struggled into a kneeling position, wondering whether she could bolt past him. He cut her off, crouching on the floor and peering at her as though she were a curious animal, and he, a collector of fine beasts. He opened his mouth to speak. But without warning, his hands lashed out, and before she could even blink, she felt herself falling.
The fall ended with a sickening snap, and fire roared through her right leg. A ragged cry ripped from her lips, and her vision swam. She felt a dangerous cocktail of panic and anger clawing her mind. Her throat was thick with rising bile. When her eyes were able to focus, she realized she was in a basement room that felt uncomfortably familiar. Then it struck her—the place looked all too similar to the room she had seen Shayla in. She was in a narrow corridor serviced only by a fluorescent light that had one foot in the grave. Half a dozen doors lined each side of the hall, and each door had a number on it. On the far wall hung a rack full of products she knew tended to be used only in certain unsavory industries.
