“Excellent. Can I drop her off in twenty minutes?”
“Sure. I’ll be ready.”
Ty knew his sister must be desperate because she usually preferred Aiden not hang out at his house. He hurried around childproofing the place. Stabby things were picked up and tossed in in the bedroom. Things that went bang were locked away.
He was waiting on the front steps when Deena pulled up. He jogged over to her car and helped Aiden with her stuff. The kid always traveled with accessories.
“I appreciate this, Ty. Bad timing.”
Ty smiled. “No prob. We’re good.”
Deena waved at Aiden and drove off.
“So what we doing today, boss man?” Aiden asked, cocking her head and squinting against the sun.
Ty frowned. “Where do you learn this sh—...stuff.”
“From you. You should see Mom’s face when I call her boss man.”
“I can imagine. So, important question, how are your PRS skills?”
“Dude, I got no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Precision rifle shooting,” Ty clarified.
“Oh, in that case, I got no skills.”
“Then we’re going to the range. I have just the rifle for you. You’re going to love it.”
“Does this mean I can be a sniper?” Aiden asked, an evil grin on her face.
The question warmed Ty’s heart. “Honey, you can be whatever you want to be.”
33
The Farm
North Carolina
Tonya was still asleep when the banging on the door awoke her. She’d drooled all over herself and her face was numb. It had to be from the pill she snorted last night. Even high she’d still had a lot of trouble falling asleep. The banging came again.
“Alright!” she yelled, stumbling out of the bed. Her skin was so clammy from humidity that she briefly thought she’d wet the bed. She threw open the door and found Lena standing there with two boxes of food.
“Morning,” Tonya said, leaning against the door for support.
“Ain’t morning. It’s afternoon. This is your lunch. The other box is the breakfast I left for you this morning. Couldn’t get you to answer the damn door.”
Tonya yawned. “I didn’t sleep well. Guess I didn’t hear you.”
Lena climbed into the camper, the two cardboard boxes stacked in her arms, and placed them on the dinette. Tonya passed by her, stepping out of the camper.
“Wait, where you going?” Lena asked. “I got something for you.”
“I have to pee. I’m about to blow up.”
Lena didn’t believe she’d heard her right but she had. She stuck her head out the door and found Tonya squatted beside the camper. “Damn, girl, don’t they have bathrooms where you’re from? There’s one in this camper.”
Tonya frowned, weaving as she stood up. “Yeah they got bathrooms where I’m from but most of them don’t smell like they’re clogged with decomposing body parts. That bathroom makes me want to puke.”
“Snake gonna bite your ass out there.”
Tonya shrugged. “Let it bite.” She gripped the doorframe and heaved herself up into the camper. “You find something for me?”
Lena reached into her bra and brought out a bag of weed. She unrolled it dangled it in front of Tonya’s face. “Quarter bag. All I could find. I brought you a lighter and an old pipe too.”
Tonya grinned and took the goodies. “Thank God. I been lighting cigarettes with some soggy old matches I found in the camper. Took half a pack to light one cigarette. You want to get high?”
The smile on Lena’s face answered the question. “It’s got to be quick. My momma is expecting me. We have to do dishes and start prepping for dinner.”
While Tonya was packing a bowl, Lena said, “I got this with the money you had left.” She extracted a pint of cheap vodka from the front of her pants and stood the bottle up on the table.
Tonya grinned wider. Things were looking up. If she was going to have to stare at these walls, the days would go faster with a buzz. Between the pills, the vodka, and the weed she’d be set. When she had the pipe ready, she took a long hit and passed it to Lena. After a few rounds, Lena ducked out.
“I got to get back before somebody sees me. I ain’t supposed to even be talking to you. They told me to just drop the food off and get the hell out of here.”
“Well that ain’t even friendly,” Tonya said.
Lena shook her head seriously. “You don’t want to be friendly around here. This ain’t the place for it.”
“Whatever,” Tonya mumbled. “Thanks for the weed.”
Lena cracked the door, made certain the coast was clear, and trotted off. Tonya looked in the food boxes and found nothing as appealing to her as the weed at the moment. She opened the camper door and awkwardly settled into her favorite spot, seated on the nasty floor with her legs hanging out. She had a few more hits of the weed and decided it was okay. Not the best she’d ever had but certainly not the worst.
When she was done, she put the pipe in the camper and removed a bottle of water from one of the food boxes. She walked outside and rambled around. Maybe it was the effect of the weed, making her feel restless and uncomfortable. She was reaching the point in her pregnancy that she wasn’t comfortable in any position. She almost wished she knew the due date so she’d better understand how much longer she had to suffer.
Her back hurt the worst, spasms rippling through the muscles above her hips and along her spine. She hobbled around the camper but there was very little grass low enough to walk in and the high grass scared her. She decided to walk around the barn, hoping she could pace the dirt lot where she’d been dropped off.
Before she even got there she heard the crunch of gravels beneath wheels. She melted into the weeds and flattened herself against the corrugated metal siding of the barn. The last thing she wanted was Shelby to spot her moving around after she’d been warned not to.
It wasn’t Shelby though. Three matching vans whizzed by, stirring clouds of dust in their wake. They were traveling too fast for the crude farm roads but apparently didn’t care. Tonya didn’t know much about cars but these vans appeared new. The black paint was immaculate and the chrome accents shiny. The vans were tall, like delivery vans, and the emblems on the back were familiar to Tonya. They were perhaps the one automotive emblem she recognized, that of Mercedes Benz.
She wondered where they were going. She’d have to ask Lena later.
34
Abingdon, Virginia
Ty had a good morning shooting at the range with Aiden. There were only a few people there and he put her on a scoped bolt-action .22. She took to it like a duck to water, finding that she enjoyed ringing steel targets more than punching paper, but who didn’t.
While he was at the range he touched base with Lieutenant Whitt and Agent Baxter as he’d told Cliff he would. They didn’t need anything from him at the moment. They’d secured an electronics tech to wire their confidential informant but were still working on getting a judge to sign off on an order to conduct electronic surveillance within the substance abuse clinic. Raylene’s normal appointment at the clinic was the day after tomorrow, which was supposed to be the day Cliff returned from Guatemala. Whitt and Baxter hoped to have all the paperwork in order by then.
When they were done they went out for a late lunch. Ty bought Aiden her favorite chicken tenders and fries, choosing a salad for himself. He felt like he needed to make up for some of his recent dietary indiscretions.
Aiden and Ty ate in the living room of his place, both of them propping their feet up on the coffee table in a manner that Deena would never allow in her house, and watched Judge Judy. Just as they were planning their next activity, Ty’s phone rang.
“Hey, Deena,” he answered.
“Hey yourself. I just got out of my meeting and I can swing by to pick up Aiden. Are you guys home?”
“We are. We’re just finishing lunch and watching Judge Judy.”
; “That woman is so crass. What did you guys do today?”
“We went to the range and I let the monster shoot a .22 rifle all morning. She had a blast and blew through about five hundred rounds.”
“Well, I’m getting gas and I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“We’ll be here,” Ty replied, ending the call.
Aiden frowned. “I guess that was my mom?”
“Roger that, Monster.”
“Too bad. I was having fun chilling at your pad.”
Ty laughed. “You go home talking like that and your mother is going to blame me.”
Aiden shrugged in an exaggerated manner. “That sounds like your problem, not mine.”
She finished her lunch while Ty cleaned up their trash, then Aiden gathered her things. They were waiting on the front steps when Deena showed up.
“Thanks, Ty. You’re a lifesaver.”
“Anytime. I know it’s hard to find someone to sit with a kid like Aiden, her being the spawn of Satan and all.”
Aiden punched Ty in the arm. “There’s more where that came from, loser. Don't test me.”
“Aiden! It's not nice to hit people,” Deena said.
“He called me the spawn of Satan!” Aiden protested.
“You got in trouble,” Ty sang.
He collected hugs from Aiden and Deena, then waved as they drove off. As his smile faded, so did every feeling of comfort and peace within him. It had happened this same way before. It was like a hard freeze settling over the land, killing everything it touched. His mind raced to weird places. He questioned every decision he'd ever made, including why he'd never wanted to have children of his own when he so enjoyed Aiden's company.
Certainly, he was young enough to get married and correct that if he wanted to, but he didn’t feel capable. He didn't feel worthy. How could he enter a relationship with anyone in good faith knowing what demons lurked inside him? Why would he do that to anyone? It was moments like that when he had to confront the reality that he was damaged goods, a loser as Aiden jokingly called him. He would never be any more than he was at that very moment. He’d never have any more than he had right then. He’d die a sad, lonely man, tortured by the demons that had followed him home.
All that, the barrage of emotions and anger, made him want to end his life at that very moment. What was the point of going forward if this was all that lay ahead of him? He faced the door to his home and contemplated going inside. He knew with all certainty that going inside and sitting down on that couch was a death sentence. Bad things would happen.
The only solution was to go inside the house and collect the things he needed. He couldn’t wait two days to launch an investigation. While he couldn’t speed up the process of getting Raylene Kidd into the clinic he could do something about the farm in North Carolina. He could plant his spare trail camera, do some recon. Whether it was admissible or not, he could gather intelligence that might help the team later and no one had to know.
He went inside with the same trepidation one might experience when entering a burning house. He paused at the door, then threw it open and rushed inside. He booted his laptop and printed a hard copy of the satellite map of the farm in North Carolina. In his spare room he grabbed a duffel bag and stuffed it with camo clothing, his battle belt, and chest rig. The web gear was already loaded with most of the things he’d need. He tossed in his single-tube nightvision, a headlamp, spare ammo, some bottled water, and some energy bars.
He slung the bag over his shoulder and retrieved his Glock, tucking the kydex holster inside his waistband. He performed a quick double-check of his gear and rushed out the door, locking it behind him. He pitched the bag into the back seat of his truck and sat there for a moment. Did he really want to do this?
No, not really. He knew it was a bad call. It was contrary to his instructions and contrary to Cliff’s wishes. He also knew that staying home was a death sentence. As close as he stepped to that edge some days, he wasn’t ready to take the leap yet. He had to make the choice that gave him another day. He could deal with tomorrow when it got here.
35
The Prescott Estate
Alabama
When the black Mercedes cargo van pulled up outside Harrison’s estate, he watched from the window of his office. Julie had called to say they were pulling onto the property. He wanted to see what the new arrivals looked like, though he wasn’t ready to see them in person yet.
Julie was another of his projects, like Karen, a girl he'd practically raised from a pup. A very sweet, affectionate, and loyal pup. Also like Karen, she'd been more than willing to learn Harrison's trade and become part of the business. Her area of expertise was taking the raw product—the children—and making them into something he could sell. In practical terms, it wasn't much different than a cartel boss converting raw coca leaves into cocaine.
When the van stopped, Julie climbed from the passenger seat, her face all business. She threw open the sliding door to the rear compartment and began issuing orders. She was so good at what she did. Organized, intelligent, and utterly unscrupulous. She had no moral reservations that couldn’t be smoothed down with a handful of bills.
She hated going to the farm, but someone had to do it. The children had to be graded according to their market value. The best were chosen to come to Harrison’s estate for the social events he hosted. Children they were holding at the farm who were not quite up to the level that Harrison preferred would be distributed to the myriad other outlets he operated throughout the hemisphere. He had brothels that, while a bit on the seedy side, brought in good money. The children determined to be of little market value, the culls, would be sold to other traffickers.
There had been a time in Harrison’s life when he was a struggling businessman. He owned a shopping center, a used car lot, and sold some real estate. He had aspirations and wanted to be a man of wealth and influence more than he wanted anything else in the world. Sometimes when he needed an influx of cash he’d sell a little cocaine on the side.
Though he enjoyed the rush that came from making those illicit deals, it was a lot of work for the money. All that cloak-and-dagger stuff—the secrecy, the paranoia—just for one briefcase of cash. His girlfriend at the time, Alli, was a seventeen-year-old high school student, eight years his junior. She liked to go on the drug deals, enjoying the excitement of Harrison’s lifestyle more than that of being a high school student.
One day Harrison had to fly down to Florida to buy a quantity of cocaine. He had a local pilot who’d fly for cash with no questions asked. Alli kept insisting she wanted to go, so she laid out of school for the day and flew to Florida with him. The man they were meeting with, a Cuban in his sixties, couldn’t take his eyes off Alli. He was utterly enthralled with her youthful beauty.
Rather than being uncomfortable beneath the man’s gaze, Alli ate it up. She met his eye and flirted with a talent beyond her years. She laughed at his jokes. Harrison didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was emotionally attached to her. She was an accessory, like his Corvette. However, they were both surprised when the Cuban made his offer.
He held up a handful of the cash that Harrison had just paid him for the cocaine. “This is five thousand dollars. I’ll return this much of your money for thirty minutes with the girl.”
Harrison was cutting out a line of cocaine on the table, much more interested in sampling the product than the Cuban’s offer. “You’ll have to talk to her, man. She’s not mine to sell.”
The Cuban frowned. He’d never met a drug dealer before who didn’t own, or at least control, their woman, but he did as Harrison suggested. He held the money out to Alli, fanning it before her eyes. “Five thousand dollars for thirty minutes.”
Alli couldn’t take her eyes off the money. She’d never even held five hundred dollars in her life. She couldn’t imagine that entire stack of money being hers for just spending a few minutes beneath the sweating old man. She could buy clothes, weed, and maybe even her own car. �
�What do you think, Harrison?”
Harrison snorted a line and pinched his nose closed. “Whatever, babe. Up to you. I don’t care.”
Alli coyly extended her hand, palm up. The Cuban smiled and dropped the pile of cash in her hand. Alli handed it to Harrison. “Do you mind holding onto this for me? I'll be back for it in thirty minutes.”
Harrison tucked the money into his shirt pocket while Alli went and did her thing. Yet that one experience, which at the time Harrison was too distracted to even pay attention to, entirely changed the course of his life. Alli began regularly visiting Florida with Harrison and the rendezvous with the Cuban became a regular thing. Each time, he willingly forked over a thick handful of cash for the pleasure of her company.
It was Alli who suggested to Harrison that if this commodity she possessed was of such value then maybe they should broaden the market. They could make even more money. Now, instead of only offering Alli to the Cuban, Harrison pitched the idea to some of the people who bought cocaine from him, taking a twenty-five percent cut from each transaction. As Alli's client base grew, Harrison leveraged those relationships to get invitations to exclusive country clubs where he could find even more clients for Alli. He became quite skilled at introducing the subject into “guy talk” and setting up dates for his girlfriend.
As Harrison met more people and developed more interest in Alli’s company, she no longer had enough free time in her schedule to meet demand. Rather than cutting back, Harrison suggested that Alli find a couple of her friends who might be of a similar mindset. Maybe they'd be interested in making a little money too. For these new girls, Harrison would demand half the money. After all, he was the one putting himself at risk by brokering these deals. Before long, he and Alli had ten more girls working for them.
Eventually Alli moved on. She had a lot of cash stored in her bedroom closet and wanted to start a family, the latter of which held no interest for Harrison at all. He let her go and continued running the business on his own. As his stable of girls grew, he hardly dabbled in selling cocaine at all anymore. The risk was higher and it could only be sold once. Some of the girls that worked for him were being sold several times a day. In the summer, when they were out of school, he’d book them as many appointments in a day as they’d take. Not only did this business replace the cocaine money, but it opened doors for him in a way that selling drugs hadn’t.
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