Eraserbyte (byte series Book 7)

by Cat Connor

  “Thank you,” I replied, everything sounded muffled and hollow through the headsets we wore. “We truly appreciate the support.”

  “Aye, that we do,” Seamus chimed. Then to me he said, “We’re leading the bid.”

  The helicopter set down in the middle of a road between two State police cars.

  “Throw as much as you can in the last bid and let’s hope we win. We gotta go.”

  Seamus pushed the bid higher and closed the laptop.

  We hauled our asses from the helicopter, dropping the headsets on the seats. A police officer waved us over. Moments later the four of us climbed out of a police car beside a mobile SWAT command post. Lee, Kurt and I introduced ourselves to the Special Agent from Manassas who was in charge of the SWAT team.

  “Conway, do you want to go in with SWAT?” he asked in an unemotional tone, as if asking if I wanted sugar with my coffee.

  Lee and Kurt shook their heads. I smiled to myself.

  I replied to the agent, “Thanks for the offer, Agent Drummond, I’ll pass.”

  He nodded sagely and gave the ‘go’ order. I watched as men clad in green combat gear scaled the high walls. Others forced the large iron gates. The gates swung open. Men hurried through, disappearing into the shrubbery and other cover as they made their way to the house. It was tense. My breath came in shallow bursts, mimicking what it would be like being inside the walls with them. I checked the monitor on my wrist. Oxygen levels, ninety-nine per cent, heart rate climbing. Kurt appeared at my elbow; he took my left wrist and checked the display.

  “I just did that,” I said.

  “And now I’m doing it. You’re doing well,” he said with a small smile. “Bit of adrenaline in your system?”

  “Little bit.”

  “Me too.”

  Gunfire erupted, sounding some distance away.

  Two agents reported several large freestanding structures on the property. Stables or barns. Another squad moved in to secure and search outer buildings. Anxious minutes ticked by in silence.

  Seamus leaned back on a car door and watched the driveway with interest. Lee spoke quietly with the lead agent from Manassas field office. I looked around, feeling as though something was missing. A yellow duck waddled out from under a police cruiser and quacked.

  My phone rang and Misha’s name lit up the display. “Is she there?” he said. His voice sounded strained.

  “No word yet. SWAT are inside.”

  “Not you?”

  “No.”

  “Good.”

  I had a sudden urge to draw my gun and charge headlong into the fray. To prove I could.

  Two men in green walked a male toward us.

  Lee snarled, “Looks like junior … where’s the old man?”

  He and Kurt strode forward to meet them, with me almost running to keep up.

  “The woman?” I asked, ignoring junior’s smarmy grin.

  “Ma’am, there are three women in various conditions. Still searching the buildings.”

  One of the agents looked directly at me. “Ma’am, you can go in. We’re sending in the paramedics. Walk toward the main house and the front door.”

  An ambulance crept up behind us. We stepped aside. The agents dragged junior to the nearest police car. Lee and I hurried up the driveway. I beckoned Seamus to come with us. The last thing I wanted was him killing junior while we were gone. No doubt, he could make it look like an accident and no one would be any the wiser, but I wanted junior alive, for now.

  I called over my shoulder to the escorting agents. “See if you can persuade him to tell you where the old man went.”

  Someone had answered the emails up until ten minutes ago, dealing with the business end. I doubted it was the junior cameraman. Something about his smile suggested he was one sandwich short of a picnic.

  Good thing there was a family business for him to inherit.

  Sam called. “Your NSA guy here found more email and links. He also found what looks like homework assignments. There could be a kid somewhere. NSA thinks the perpetrator or pervert if you like, has a kid, a girl by the tone of the email and the name that keeps showing up. Lily-Ann.”

  “How old?”

  “Guessing about fourteen.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Great a kid. I told Lee, Kurt and Seamus as we reached the front door. Lee scowled. Seamus squared his jaw. Kurt shook his head.

  “How old, Conway?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Stick close to me,” he said.

  “You think the kid is related to the old guy? Or some poor unfortunate he kidnapped earlier?” Lee asked.

  “We won’t know until we find her,” I replied. But I suspected she was his daughter, this is a family business. Daughter was probably being pimped over the internet from toddlerhood. This family was taking dysfunctional to the max. It was fast turning into one of those days that made me hate my job.

  An agent carrying a rifle greeted us and pointed the way.

  “The porn business is lucrative, I see,” I commented. The interior of the home was expensively and very tastefully decorated and furnished. Like a country estate of the rich and famous. I got the feeling the owner hired an interior decorator.

  Lee agreed the house was like something from House and Garden magazine rather than a family home or torture chamber. Paramedics followed us closely. Not knowing where the older man was, made me jumpy. My hand rested on the butt of my gun. Security.

  I noted bullet holes in a wall ahead of us and pointed them out.

  An agent replied, “Junior tried to shoot his way out.”

  He wasn’t wounded, lucky him. I raised an eyebrow. The agent smiled. “He emptied his revolver, then Lenny tackled him from behind.”

  I was right, not a smart boy.

  Another armed battledressed agent stood guard by an open door. Our accompanying agent said, “The first victim is in here.”

  I entered the room. A blonde girl lay on a bed, wearing short shorts and a tank top. She looked at me. Her face was a mess, one eye swollen shut and covered in a deep blue bruise. Dried blood around her mouth. Bruises and cuts tracked up her arms. I noted ligature marks around her neck, wrists, and ankles. It wasn’t Anastazia.

  “I’m Agent Conway. These two people here are paramedics. You’re safe.”

  A tear trickled down her face.

  The paramedics sprang into action. Leaving the guard on the door, we moved on. In the next room sat another woman, her body battered and swollen. She wore only underpants and a small tee shirt. Again, I introduced myself.

  She said nothing but looked away. We left the next two paramedics with her.

  I took a deep breath.

  “You okay?” Kurt asked, checking the oximeter. “No, you’re not. Deep breaths, Conway.”

  I breathed. Ninety-seven became ninety-eight. My heart rate dropped. A few more deep breaths and Kurt said we could carry on.

  Around the corner and down a longer hallway, past more expensive paintings and vases on antique tables we found another guard. I stepped into the room and there she was. Naked. Beaten. Tragic.

  “Anastazia?”

  Surprise registered on her face. She nodded. Tears cascaded over purple and blue bruises and dried bloody cuts. I pulled off my jacket and wrapped it around her. She gripped my hand tightly.

  “I am Special Agent Ellie Conway. Before we say anything else, your sister is safe.”

  The young woman sobbed, she pulled on my hand to stand up. I caught her as she propelled herself forward. “Wait,” I said as she tried to walk. Lee pulled a thermal blanket from a paramedic’s bag, ripped the package open and wrapped the silver sheet around her beaten body. Kurt ushered everyone from the room. I tried to stay but he told Lee take me out.

  “Kurt?” I asked.

  “I saw a string,” he replied. “Go.”

  “What?” I wasn’t sure I heard him correctly.

  “Conway, there’s a string. Get out of here.”


  Kennedy slung his arm around my shoulder and marched me out of the room. “Come with me.”

  Kurt’s voice followed me, “Breathe, Conway, I can’t be in two places at once.”

  Kennedy walked me about six feet back down the hall.

  “What about the other girls?” I said.

  “Oh, God,” Lee muttered. “How do the tampons explode?”

  “Pulling the string,” I replied.

  He ran back where we had come from.

  Kennedy stood in front of me. “You okay?”

  “Yes.” I took several deep breaths and leaned a shoulder on the wall. I heard Lee running back toward us.

  “You were right. I need Kurt,” he said as he stopped in front of me.

  Kurt opened the door and poked his head out. He looked right then left and saw us.

  “All clear,” he called.

  “Good,” Lee called back. “You’ve got two more to remove.”

  Kurt nodded. “Conway, you and Lee in here and look after Anastazia.”

  We walked back to the room. Kurt took his backpack and ran down the hallway. Kennedy stayed outside the door while we went in.

  “We’re going to take you out,” I said to the messed-up young woman sitting wrapped in the silver blanket on the edge of the bed. She struggled to her feet.

  “Lee will carry you.”

  She tried to argue but didn’t have the strength. My guess was it took everything she had to hang onto life to reach this point.

  With a nod, he scooped her up into his massive arms.

  Seamus pulled his cell phone and made a call. Twenty seconds later, he held the phone to her ear and said, “Your father.”

  We all pretended not to hear the conversation. The language was not familiar but the tone and the fear we knew well. I heard my name. Anastazia passed me the phone.

  “Hello,” I said, walking ahead so the conversation would not be overheard.

  “Is she hurt?” he asked.

  “Beaten as far as we know. We don’t know the full extent of any injuries yet, sir.”

  “I am Eduard,” he replied. “Thank you, Agent.”

  “Just did my job.”

  “I am very grateful.”

  “Pleased we could help,” I said. I’m a sucker for a happy ending.

  “I will be in touch. May I speak with Seamus again?”

  I handed Kennedy the phone. They spoke at length and were still speaking when Lee handed Anastazia over to the ambulance personnel. I moved to Misha, who waited with Holmes and Jones. “We have her.”

  “I know,” he replied. “I saw.”

  “The old man and we think a younger teenage girl are missing,” I said.

  “It would be best if they were found,” he replied.

  “Yeah. I’m going back in to search. A picture of him and his kids would be helpful.”

  “Where do you want me?”

  “With the girl. Keep the UN together. Alexandra and Anastazia will be reunited in the hospital. I don’t have spare personnel, keep them safe?”

  “Da.”

  Forty-Five

  Children Of The Grave

  I signaled Lee to accompany me. Together we went on a scavenger hunt. Both family photos and trophies were our objective. It felt a bit like we were contestants on TheAmazing Race. I expected Phil Keoghan to be waiting in the next doorway and hand us an envelope or dismiss us outright for tardiness.

  Our hunt netted plenty of family photos. In some, the incredibly dysfunctional family even looked happy.

  The bedrooms held more treasures.

  Daddy’s little girl had a pretty Barbie pink room. Books filled a large pink bookcase, with more books piled on a matching nightstand. There were photos of her in a drawer. Each photo was of her and one other girl. Each photo contained a different girl. The backdrops appeared similar, if not the same. A park maybe. As I thumbed through the photographs, I came across Anastazia. There were thirty-seven different girls aged between twelve and eighteen or nineteen.

  Lee called out from across the hallway. The father’s room netted more photographs but only of his family. Framed photos sat dust free. I noted the en suite bathrooms were spotless. Beds were made.

  I ducked back into the girl’s room. A clean and tidy teenager’s room? No glasses sitting half full of soda. No junk food wrappers. Even the waste paper bin was empty. Toilet paper folded to a point. I pulled a drawer open. Clothes meticulously folded sat in piles.

  “Lee, there’s no wife or mother?”

  “Not that I’ve found.”

  “Then where’s the housekeeper? She’s someone we need to talk to.”

  “This place is kept like a show home.”

  I agreed. It truly was.

  The daughter’s room was like no teenagers room I’d ever seen. Where were the signs of life? The magazines strewn over the floor. Posters stuck to walls. Stickers on mirrors. Piles of unwashed clothing on the floors. The unmade bed. Dog-eared homework and required reading? No school bag or textbooks anywhere.

  “Shouldn’t there be signs of life in here,” Lee said.

  “Yeah, and a school bag and signs of school life.”

  I waved my arm around the walls. “No pennants, no corkboard filled with pictures of friends.”

  “Home schooled?” Lee offered.

  “Maybe but even home-schooled kids have friends and school books.”

  “All right. It’s weird.”

  I picked up one of the books from the nightstand. The spine creaked as I opened it.

  “A book that’s never been opened.”

  I pulled one from a bookcase and again, brand new and never been opened. Looking at the back I saw the bookstore label.

  “We got something, Lee. Look at this.” I handed him the book and pointed to the label. Then pulled out more books at random. They all had the same label. Danni Lane’s name on the spine of three books turned my blood to jagged ice crystals. I stopped breathing and just stared. I don’t believe in coincidence. I don’t. Staring, but unable to reach my hand out and take one of the books. Lee’s voice jolted through me.

  “Hey!”

  “What?” Startled, I spun around.

  “What were you looking at?”

  My hand rose and pointed. He hooked the books from the shelf.

  “These?”

  “Yep.”

  “What do we make of it? Bearing in mind neither of us are fond of coincidence.”

  “I don’t know.” From the corner of my eye, four little ducks wriggled out from under the bed and headed for the door. Each one quacked. Four ducks now. “She’s part of this. She wasn’t helping Kennedy and his men. She was playing both ends.”

  “Jeez. You sure?”

  “Yep.”

  Any sane person would draw the same conclusion from four little yellow ducks.

  “Let’s make sure Delta B picked her up,” Lee said making the call. Two minutes later he gave me a thumbs up.

  Okay, good.

  “Why buy so many books and not read them?” I asked.

  “No idea. But I’ll call Holly’s store she might have something,” Lee replied.

  I listened to his side of the conversation.

  “Holly, this is Special Agent Davenport. I have a few questions about a customer.”

  I tapped his arm and mouthed, “We need to go see her.”

  All the books came from Holly’s bookstore. She would have the till receipts plus there was an added advantage; my sister-in-law slash best friend, Holly, made the best coffee ever.

  I took the phone from Lee. “We’re coming over, Holly, put the coffee on.”

  “Davenport, that was Lee, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “So formal.”

  “Big case. See you soon.”

  I handed his phone back.

  “You ready for some decent coffee?” I asked.

  “Are we done here?”

  I walked to the door. “I think so. Manassas can handle the scene and ke
ep searching for the father and daughter. We’ll come back once we’ve spoken to Holly.”

  We hurried from the house. I had a suspicion there was another house, somewhere they lived and it wasn’t here. This was the show home. The place where they produced the sick videos for the highest bidders and pretended to live. If there was another house, Holly might have the address.

  While Lee found the officer who drove our car to get the keys, I considered the book titles I’d seen. They were all books I’d seen before. I’d seen them in other kid’s bedrooms, and in bookstores. Teenagers liked them. Chances are this missing teenager liked them too and had copies she actually read. Seemed possible. This was an uncharacteristic case. A lot of deception carried out on a grand scale. Money spent to uphold an image. Yet no one really lived there. Seemed crazier than me.

  That was plenty crazy.

  The song I heard the loudest as we walked away was one I loved and couldn’t fathom why I was hearing it now. ‘Beneath Your Beautiful.’

  Forty-Six

  Eyes Of A Stranger

  I opened the door to Holly’s bookstore. The old fashioned, probably antique, brass bell above the door rang gently. A simple and musical ding-a-ling. Lee followed me in, casting a deep shadow over me, and the books on the first display. I took a book-filled breath. Loving the smell of books can be a handicap and an expensive hobby.

  Holly called out from the back room.

  “Coffee is on, Ellie. Hi, Lee.”

  Lee replied first, “Yo, Holly, how goes it?”

  We strode through the store. I tried not to look at the pretty books and shiny covers as I passed by. The temptation to stop and browse was enormous.

  “It goes very well, Lee,” Holly said as we entered the backroom which doubled as a kitchenette and storeroom. She placed steaming mugs of coffee on the square kitchen table. “Have a seat.”

  Holly hugged me briefly. I tried not to wince and slid into the nearest chair.

  “What’s that?” she asked pointing at my wrist.

  “New jewelry from Kurt,” I replied, trying to sound blasé about it.

  She shook her head. “Aidan said you were badly hurt in the crash. When I got to the hospital, they weren’t allowing visitors and then you’d gone.”