by Debra Webb
Brake lights abruptly lit the night as the SUV skidded to a sideways stop in the street.
Fifty percent chance of failure.
“Back up!”
Von had already hit the brakes and jammed the gearshift into Reverse before Trinity issued the order.
Something in her peripheral vision caused her to stall. She blinked as she watched the two men climbing out of the silver SUV. “They’re running.”
She hadn’t realized she’d said the words out loud until Trinity bolted from the vehicle.
Von hissed a curse. The man was going to get himself shot jumping out in the middle of the street like this with two known scumbags already running scared.
She rammed the gearshift back into Drive and barreled around the SUV they’d left blocking the street, using the sidewalk for passage.
One of the men darted to the right into an alley.
Von braked. Her SUV slid to an abrupt stop and she jammed into Park.
Trinity overtook the man still running down the middle of the street.
Von released her seat belt and burst out of the vehicle. She headed after the man who’d charged into the alley.
She reached beneath her jacket and wrapped her fingers around the butt of her weapon.
Her target body slammed a door in an attempt to break into the building to the right. The door didn’t budge. He lunged forward once more.
Von was close enough to hear him panting for breath.
That was the thing about bad guys. They took lots of risks but didn’t bother staying in shape.
She dove forward. Grabbed his jacket. Her momentum sent him stumbling forward, face-first onto the pavement. He tried to buck her off.
Clamping her thighs around his waist, Von shoved the muzzle of her weapon into the back of his skull.
“Don’t move.” She grabbed a handful of stringy brown hair when his right hand continued to fumble around beneath him. “If that’s a weapon you’re going for, don’t bother.” She nudged his scalp a little harder with the business end of her .9 mm. He stilled.
“Slowly,” she warned, “draw your hands from under you and spread them above your head.” When he’d done as she instructed, she released his hair and reached beneath him. “No wonder you didn’t pull it out sooner.” His weapon had slid deep into his pants.
For now, it was basically out of his reach, as well as hers.
“Charlie Jones?” she asked. Looked like him, but it was pretty damned dark in this alley and she couldn’t be certain.
“Who’s asking?” he snarled.
She jabbed the muzzle deeper. “A friend.” No wallet in his back pockets. She doubted he carried any ID. “Are you Charlie Jones?”
“Maybe. You a cop?”
“Look.” She revised her strategy. “I’m not a cop. And I don’t really care who you are or what you’ve done, I just want some answers about an associate of yours. Then you can be on your way.”
Several seconds ticked off. “So ask. Maybe I’ll answer.”
Since she hadn’t heard any gunfire she assumed Trinity’s situation was under control.
“Kobi Larkin,” Von said. “Where is he?”
The scumbag kissing the asphalt barked a laugh. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”
“You know him, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. So what? I know a lot of people.”
Von twisted her fingers in the guy’s hair and pulled hard. He grunted. “Did you see him today?”
“Depends,” he snarled.
“Did you see him?”
“Yeah, I saw him.”
She loosened her grip on his oily hair. “Did he have a little girl with him?”
The bastard snorted. “Yeah. Sweet little thing.”
Von barely restrained the need to pull the trigger. “Where’s the little girl now?”
The wail of sirens split the night air.
Jones or whoever the hell he was tensed.
“If you want a head start,” she warned, “you’d better talk fast.”
“He wanted to make some money,” the lowlife said. “He had a real need, you know what I mean?”
Yeah, she knew exactly what he meant. “You gave him money? For what?” Fear and disgust exploded in her heart at the idea that any scumbag could be a parent. A person had to have a license to drive a vehicle…but anyone could be a parent—no prerequisites or licenses required.
“No. Man, I ain’t into that.” He made a disgusted sound. “But I know people…who are.”
“Who did you send him to?” Damn it all to hell. This couldn’t be right. What father would do this?
“Another associate of mine.”
“What’s his name and how do I find him?”
The sirens were closer now.
“I don’t know his name. Just his phone number. I call him and he gives a drop location.”
Von’s stomach waded into knots. “You called him on your cell?”
“Yeah.”
She reached into his pocket, pulled out the cell phone she’d felt when checking for his weapon. “Which number?” She opened up the log of recent calls, matched the one he recited from memory. A very close associate if he knew the number by heart.
Von pushed aside the personal feelings. She had to focus. The time the call was made seemed right based on the mother’s statement of events.
“What do you get out of the deal?” Von couldn’t keep the revulsion out of her voice, didn’t even try.
“Twenty percent.”
“Twenty percent of what?”
“A good-looking little girl like that? Thirty-five hundred. Sometimes more.” He sniggered. “You’d think even an idiot would know that changing your mind isn’t an option.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Von demanded.
“We’re done,” Jones growled. “Get off me before—”
Doors slammed on the street where she’d left her vehicle.
“Get off me!” He started to buck again.
She burrowed the muzzle deep into his flesh and leaned forward to whisper in his nasty ear. “Does he keep the kids or does he auction them?”
“He sells ’em,” he muttered. “You said you’d give me a head start.”
“I lied.” Von pressed hard on his carotid artery. He tried to throw her off, but the insistent pressure won the battle, rendering him unconscious.
She rolled him onto his back and fished the weapon from his crotch.
A glance toward the street told her she hadn’t been spotted just yet.
She sprinted in the opposite direction, tossing the bastard’s weapon into a Dumpster. Having him wake up and use it on a cop or anyone else was a possibility she wanted to avoid.
At the other end of the alley, she checked the street in both directions. Another police cruiser, sirens flashing and blaring, skidded into a left turn headed for where her vehicle as well as Jones’s had been left. Two Chicago PD cruisers were parked in front of the duplex reportedly rented or leased by Jones.
Von needed cover until she could determine Trinity’s status and find new wheels.
First she had to get across the street without being spotted. Shouldn’t be too difficult considering the lack of working lights along the block.
She skimmed the offerings along the block, the warm glow pouring from the windows of most proclaiming inhabitants. Likely armed and unfriendly.
Just pick one.
One, only one, was dark as if no one was home or it was vacant.
Von took a breath and headed across the street. She took her time. Strolled leisurely. Walked right up the steps of the porch. No chairs or benches available.
Her heart pounding, she sat down on the top step.
From the corner of her eye she confirmed that no uniforms had headed her way.
She sent a text to Trinity.
Status?
While she waited for a response, she sent a text to Simon Ruhl with the number Jones claimed was his contact for t
he sale of Lily Larkin.
Von’s stomach cramped at the thought.
Don’t think about it. Just do what has to be done.
Von needed an address…anything to reach this bastard. This trafficker.
Bile burned the back of her throat.
What’re you doing sitting down?
Relief rushed through Von’s veins as she read the text from Trinity. She glanced around.
I’m two houses to your right.
Von stood, walked across the porch, climbed over the rickety railing and jumped down to the side yard. She moved through the backyard of the properties until she reached the one where Trinity waited.
He leaned against the side of the house. “The police have Jones and his pal in custody.”
“Did you get anything?”
Trinity nodded. “Jones brokered a deal for Larkin.” He looked away. “He sold his daughter, Von.” After a few seconds his gaze locked with hers once more. Even in the darkness she could see—maybe she felt—his simmering fury. “He sold her to get money for drugs.”
She held up the cell phone she’d taken from Jones. “I’ve got his cell and the number he uses to make contact with this broker.”
“We need a ride now,” Trinity said as he checked his phone. “Jim’s sending someone to pick us up.”
Von’s chest tightened. The child had been taken from her mother nearly five hours ago. She could be anywhere by now.
The screen of Trinity’s phone lit with an incoming text.
They had to find this bastard. There was no time to wait for the police to Mirandize their suspects and attempt to get the information necessary to stop this travesty. The lowlifes would lawyer up and hours and hours would be wasted.
“This way.” Trinity gestured to the row of houses behind them. “Two streets over. Jim’s waiting.”
Von hurried to keep up with Trinity’s long strides. Her mind reeled with scenarios for locating this scumbag. Maybe Simon would have some luck with the cell number she’d passed along.
A dog barked.
Lunged at them.
Von jumped. She swallowed back her heart when she recognized that the dog was chained.
Trinity had her by the arm tugging her forward through the darkness between houses. Rectangles of light beamed through the windows, providing enough illumination for them to make their way through the maze of shrubs and trees. Her mind wouldn’t stay focused on her steps. She could only think of the little girl.
Jim’s sedan sat at the corner. He flashed his headlights to ensure they spotted him.
Someone else was in the front passenger seat. Trinity opened the back door and let Von get in first. Then he climbed in and closed the door.
“You two okay?” Jim asked.
Von nodded. Trinity responded, “Yes.”
Simon Ruhl, the other passenger, shook his head. “Kobi Larkin is dead.”
“What?” Von didn’t understand. “How?”
“One of my contacts in Chicago PD,” Simon explained, “let me know that Larkin’s body was discovered in the duplex where Jones lives.”
Von and Trinity exchanged a look.
“Wait.” Von replayed her interrogation of Jones. “Jones said something like ‘You’d think even an idiot would know that changing your mind isn’t an option.’”
“Larkin changed his mind,” Trinity concluded. “Jones or one of his associates killed him when he wouldn’t let it go.”
Von had no sympathy for the dirtbag. “Too bad he didn’t grow a conscience until it was too late.” How could the man sell his own child?
“The number you sent Simon,” Jim said, “we’re running it down now but it’s not going to be easy. The person it belongs to doesn’t want to be discovered via that means. It’ll take time.”
They didn’t have time. “We have to do something now,” Von argued.
“It may be too late already,” Trinity reiterated. “These brokers work fast. She could be on her way anywhere by now.”
“We’re doing all we can,” Simon offered. “Larkin is dead. Jones and his associate are in police custody. We’ll move forward as soon as—”
Von turned to Trinity. “Call him.”
“What?” Trinity’s face scrunched in confusion.
“Tell him you have some merchandise,” Von said quickly, the idea taking shape. “A fifteen-year-old female. You need to get rid of her today. Now.”
Jim and Simon spoke up simultaneously. Both tossing out reasons her suggestion wouldn’t work.
The confusion cleared from Trinity’s face as if he’d just grasped the idea. “That kind of move would require bait.”
“Absolutely,” Von agreed, tuning out the arguments coming from the front seat.
Realization dawned in Trinity’s eyes and his head moved side to side. “No way.”
“It’s the only way,” Von argued. She glared from one man to the other. “There’s no time. Waiting isn’t an option and we all know it. We have to move now.”
“What you’re suggesting is out of the question,” Trinity challenged.
“What’s the big deal, Barrett?” Von demanded. She wasn’t fifteen but that fact could be disguised long enough to get the ball rolling. “I’ve been bait before.”
The silence that followed confirmed what she knew with complete certainty. All in the vehicle understood that her proposal was the fastest, most logical and effective way to move forward.
Setting up some sort of deal with the buyer was the only way to save this child.
Chapter Six
Mercy General Hospital, 7:30 p.m. (6 hours missing)
The rhythmic sound of the numerous machines hooked to Wanda Larkin kept the silence at bay. But nothing abated the underlying sense of worry and doom induced by the smell of the room. No matter the technology used, there simply was no way to make a hospital smell “inviting” or “comforting.”
Victoria wished there was something more she could do for the poor woman she’d found on the street. Hours had passed since Wanda’s lifesaving surgery and still she had not regained consciousness for more than a moment or so. The doctors and nurses assigned to her weren’t overly concerned as of yet. With the mental as well as physical trauma she had suffered, it wasn’t unusual for a patient to want to stay asleep. It was a defense mechanism.
Perhaps, since Victoria had no good news to report regarding Wanda’s missing child, it was for the best.
Even now Victoria waited for an update from Jim or Simon.
A missing child, no matter the circumstances, was horrifying enough, but, dear God, at this time of the year when celebrating life and love were on the minds of most…it was unusually cruel.
A soft moan drew Victoria from her troubling thoughts. She stood and moved closer to the bed. Wanda moaned again, her head moving side to side ever so slightly.
Victoria took her hand. “You’re in the hospital,” she explained gently. “The doctors are taking very good care of you, Wanda.”
The patient’s eyes opened. She blinked twice then stared into Victoria’s. “You have to help me.”
Victoria patted her hand. “Everything that can be is being done, I promise.”
Tears welled in Wanda’s eyes. “He took Lily.” She moistened her dry lips. “He took my baby.”
“We know,” Victoria assured her, her heart breaking with the idea that they hadn’t found the child already. “We’re retracing his steps in hopes of locating Lily.”
“You’re the woman…” Wanda’s voice faded and she cleared her throat.
Victoria put a bendable straw into the cup of water from the bedside table and offered Wanda a drink. When she had dampened her throat, she squeezed Victoria’s hand. “You’re the woman who helped me. I remember…just you. No one else.”
A smile tugged at Victoria’s lips. “I’m Victoria Colby-Camp. Yes, I called for help and tried to keep you warm until help arrived. My investigators from the Colby Agency are looking for Lily right now.”
/> Wanda’s brow furrowed and her lips trembled. “He tried to kill me.”
Victoria wanted to tell her that the bastard was dead, that he’d gotten what he deserved and none too soon. Kobi Larkin had died the same way he’d lived, savagely and ruthlessly. But, no matter how he’d hurt Wanda, he had still been her husband once and was the father of her child. Victoria wasn’t sure she could deal with that truth right now.
“He tried to hurt you,” Victoria agreed, “that is true. But you’re going to be fine. You’ll be up and out of here in just a few days.”
Wanda tried to lever herself into a sitting position. “I have to find my baby.”
Alarm trickled through Victoria. “You have to lie still, my dear. For now, there’s nothing you can do.” She ushered the patient back down onto the bed. “You won’t be any good at all to Lily if you don’t allow yourself to heal properly. Getting well needs to be your priority while we find Lily.”
Wanda swiped at her tears with the hand not burdened with IV lines. “I can’t just lie here while…he…” Her lips pinched with the fear widening her eyes, then quaked as she murmured, “I have to find her. He doesn’t know how to love her like a father should.”
“Following the doctor’s orders is what you have to do,” Victoria urged. “My agency and the police are doing all that can be done to find your daughter. There is nothing you could do even if you weren’t stuck in this hospital bed. You must get well. Lily will need you when this is over.”
“You swear?” she pleaded. “Swear to me that you’ll find my baby.”
Victoria knew better than to make a promise like that under any circumstances. There was no way to guarantee success, no matter how hard her people fought to make that happen. But the horror already haunting the poor woman’s eyes tore at Victoria’s resolve to maintain her professional boundaries.
“I swear,” Victoria said, unable to hold back the promise. “We will find your daughter.”
Chapter Seven
Warehouse District, 7:45 p.m.
Trinity had gotten his way.
It was a flat-out miracle.
Three years of marriage and never once had he won an argument with Von.
She wasn’t happy about it, but she had thrown her hands up and given in. Rather than using Von as bait in a situation that could possibly have gone bad really fast, they had come up with a new plan that didn’t involve bait at all. Rather, money was the sacrificial offering. Lots of money.
