The TAKEN! Series - Books 13-16 (Taken! Box Set Book 4)

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The TAKEN! Series - Books 13-16 (Taken! Box Set Book 4) Page 6

by Remington Kane

A woman came down the stairs, she was black, had once been good-looking, but was so painfully thin that nearly all of the girls outweighed her. When Tobias introduced her as his sister, Amber laughed.

  “What?” Tobias said. “I can’t have a black sister?”

  “I didn’t say anything?”

  “Yeah, but you was thinking it. Now get something straight from the jump. We’re all family here, see these girls? They’re your new sisters, and black, brown, or white, it don’t matter, the only thing that matters in this house is that you contribute.”

  “Contribute? But I don’t have any money, you know that.”

  The black woman reached over and touched Amber’s crotch.

  “Oh baby, you can get all the money you want you tasty little thing,”

  Amber jumped back, but there was nowhere to go, as the other girls surrounded her.

  The black woman smiled at Tobias.

  “When you gonna break her in?”

  He shrugged.

  “Right now. I’ve been itching for her ever since I laid eyes on her.”

  One of the other girls crossed her arms.

  “She ain’t nothin’; she don’t even have any tits.”

  Tobias grinned.

  “It ain’t her tits I want.”

  Amber’s eyes widened as she turned to run away, but Tobias grabbed her wrist and began pulling her towards a bedroom.

  “You girls start making dinner and then get ready for work. It’s gonna be a busy night; there’s a big convention in town.”

  A chorus of, “Yes Daddy,” sounded, and nearly drowned out Amber’s cries for help,

  As they entered the bedroom, Tobias slammed the door shut with his foot, even as he slapped Amber and sent her stumbling backwards to fall atop one of the beds. There were ten beds, some little more than cots, set up like a dormitory. Clothes were scattered everywhere, and in one corner of the room was a long table covered with make-up and large bottles of perfume, while a door at the rear revealed a bathroom.

  Tobias was on her in a flash, ripping her T-shirt away from her body, but when he saw what lay beneath it, he froze.

  “A wire?”

  Amber smiled, said, “And a razor,” and used the razor blade that had been hidden in her jeans to slice deep into Tobias’ throat.

  Blood spurted across Amber’s face and as high as the ceiling, but she had already closed her eyes in anticipation of the warm spray. As Tobias grunted and flailed about the room, she reached down for the bed sheet and used it to wipe her face. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Tobias had made it to the door, but was on his ass and leaning with his back against it, his hands red at his throat, his eyes wide with fear and confusion.

  Amber spoke normally, knowing that the transmitter taped to her chest would pick-up her words.

  “The pimp has been handled. I’ll be out in three minutes.”

  As Tobias’ head slumped onto his chest and his hands fell to his sides, Amber went over and freed the .22 from the holster on his ankle, and took his keys from his pocket.

  She laid the gun on the soap dish as she showered the blood away, and was still toweling off when she heard the woman at the door.

  “What the hell is all this blood? Damn, Tobias, don’t tell me that you killed the little bitch.”

  Amber grabbed the gun, snatched the keys and the transmitter from atop the toilet seat where she’d sat them, and strode out into the room naked, just as the woman forced the door open.

  The little .22 made a loud popping noise and a distinct red hole appeared on the woman’s chest. The woman made a gurgling sound, and fell to the floor beside Tobias.

  As Amber pulled a pair of jeans and a top from the clothes scattered about the floor, she heard the girls’ laughter come from deeper in the house, it was mixed with the whirling, grinding sounds that a food processor makes, and she realized that no one had heard the shot or seen the woman fall in the doorway.

  The windows were painted black and had bars on them, and so Amber headed for the front door. When she stepped over the woman to squeeze past, she saw that she was still alive, but that blood was leaking from her open mouth.

  Amber used Tobias’ keys to undo the deadbolts on the front door and went down the stairs where the woman from the bus station waited in a car at the curb; she was the same woman who had been eating the hot dog. She winced when she saw the red mark that Tobias’ slap had left on Amber’s cheek.

  “I had to shoot the woman too, Mia. Did you make the call?”

  “Yeah, Carol Gooden from the Sanctuary Home for Girls is on her way here with that old van of hers.”

  “Most of those girls won’t stay at the home; most of them will find new pimps.”

  “I know, but she’ll save a couple, she always does, and your friend Tobias won’t be around to tempt any new girls.”

  “Or set them afire, like he did last week with that girl, Sasha.”

  “Let’s go.”

  As Mia put the car in gear, Amber heard a scream come from the house, but when she looked out the back window, she saw an old van approaching.

  “Carol’s got good timing,”

  They pulled away from the curb and the van took its place, even as the front door opened and a group of frightened children, damaged children, fled the home.

  Amber sat in her seat with her knees pulled up to her flat chest. Her name wasn’t Amber, and she was twenty-three.

  Mia looked over at her as she drove.

  “Hey, Kelly?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You alright?”

  “I’m better than Tobias and that woman, that’s for sure.”

  “I got a call from Cassandra while you were inside. Jeffrey Mitchell is here in the Dallas area.”

  “Where exactly?”

  “Cassandra doesn’t know yet, but when she does, Elena says he’s ours.”

  “How many people has he killed?”

  “At last count... something like seventy, seventy-one maybe,”

  “It’s going to take more than a razor blade to bring him down.”

  Mia nodded.

  “Oh yeah,”

  CHAPTER 7

  Kathy Jessup grimaced as Hank Doyle opened up the trunk of his car. They were in the driveway outside her garage apartment.

  “Can’t I just sit in the backseat?”

  “No, you’ll scream for help.”

  “I won’t, I promise, and besides, there’s no heat in the trunk, and it’s chilly.”

  Doyle sighed. He hadn’t considered that, but then, he hadn’t considered a lot of things.

  Kathy had gone on Circe’s website and found the new blog post, she had inferred by it that Circe was in Texas. That she was actually with Mitchell was no longer in doubt; because Circe went on forever about how handsome, “My Jeffrey” was, saying that the eye patch had made him even sexier.

  Doyle was elated to have a place to begin searching, but realized that if he left Kathy Jessup alone she would just post a message and warn Circe that he was coming, and if he tied and gagged her, she might never be found. And so, he decided to take her along with him as he searched for his daughter.

  He looked at her right hand and saw that she was holding a wallet.

  “Let me see that.”

  “Now you’re going to rob me?”

  “No, I just want to make sure you don’t have a weapon.”

  “In that little thing?”

  Doyle checked the wallet and saw a driver’s license, credit card, key, and a twenty-dollar bill.

  He handed it back to her.

  “You can ride in the car with me, but first I’m going to tie your wrists and ankles.”

  “Are you going to rape me?”

  “No! Why do you keep asking me that?”

  “I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m at your mercy, helpless... powerless to stop you.”

  Doyle stared at the girl as she spoke and noticed that her tone had grown huskier, as if she were becoming aroused by
the idea.

  “Oh Christ, you and my daughter, what the hell is wrong with you?”

  Kathy moved closer and stared up into his eyes.

  “I’m not the one threatening to tie up young women, Hank.”

  ***

  Jessica met him at the door as he returned home with Maggie and Jace.

  “How was your meeting with Dr. Colt?” he asked.

  “Eye-opening and intriguing, I’ll fill you in later, but there’s news, they think that Jeffrey and Hanna are back in Texas.”

  “Where in Texas, near Destina?”

  “No, closer to Dallas, Lawson’s got people there on the alert.”

  Maggie joined them on the porch. She was carrying a suitcase in one hand and a photo album in the other.

  Jessica smiled at her.

  “How are you doing, honey?”

  “I’m okay, it was sad, but in a way I got to say goodbye to Mom.”

  “I understand. I was about your age when my mom died.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, so let me know if you ever need to talk about it.”

  Maggie smiled.

  “Will I have to lay on your couch, Dr. White?”

  “No, but we’ll eat ice-cream while we talk, okay?”

  “Sure, and can we talk tonight?”

  Jessica grinned. “It’s a date.”

  Jace appeared with a large box that appeared to be heavy.

  “What do you have in here, Maggie, rocks?”

  “Those are old books.”

  “Show me where you want them before my back breaks, girl.”

  “They’re not that heavy, but follow me,”

  Jessica watched Maggie and Jace disappear into the house.

  “I think she likes him, and I think it’s mutual.”

  “He’s a little old for her, isn’t he?”

  “At nineteen? Not really, although he’s far worldlier than she is.”

  He sighed.

  “I didn’t think I’d have to worry about having a teenager under our roof until the children were older.”

  “It’ll be good practice for us.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For welcoming her here; I know you didn’t expect this either.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, I love having her here, and she’s a sweetheart.”

  “Tell me, how do they know that Jeffrey is back in Texas?”

  “It’s that girl, Circe; she left a message on her website.”

  “She’s still alive? I would have thought that he’d have killed her by now.”

  “Apparently not, which means that either he or Hanna still find her useful,”

  ***

  Hanna stared at Circe as she came out of the motor home’s tiny bathroom.

  “Well?”

  Circe looked ready to cry, and handed her the stick from a pregnancy kit.

  In a little oval-shaped window was one line.

  “I’m not pregnant.”

  “But you still haven’t had your period, right?”

  “No, and I’m six days late.”

  Hanna frowned down at the negative result.

  “I’m sorry, Hanna.”

  “It’s not your fault. You don’t have to be sorry, but just in case... I want you to be with Jeffrey again tonight.”

  Circe grinned. “Yes.”

  “Wipe that smile from your face.”

  “Sorry,”

  “Yeah,” Hanna said, and slammed the door on her way outside.

  Jeffrey was seated near the motor home in one of a set of folding lawn chairs, and Hanna walked over and sat beside him.

  “She’s still not pregnant.”

  “Alright,”

  “No, it is not alright. This means that you’ll have to be with her again.”

  “What is your problem? I’ve had dozens of women, hell Hanna, you’ve even held a few of them down while I did it.”

  “That was different, you killed those women afterwards, they meant nothing to you and so they meant nothing to me.”

  Jeffrey chuckled.

  “You think that I care about that girl?”

  “No. But she will be the mother of your child, and that’s something that we both know I can’t do.”

  “I want a son, but I don’t have to have one from her. Give me the signal and I’ll go kill that girl.”

  “No, right now she’s our best chance, but goddamn it I wish we could have stolen Jessica’s children. It would have been the perfect revenge on her husband and I so wanted to kill her for taking your eye.”

  “They’ll be coming for us, you know that.”

  “I do, but they’ll never find us out here, and after a few more days pass and things die down, we’ll drive into Dallas and lose ourselves in the city.”

  Something beeped, and Jeffrey looked down at his laptop.

  “There’s an email here for my father, addressed to his real name.”

  Jeffrey opened it and then appeared shocked by what he was reading.

  “Who’s it from and what does it say?” Hanna asked.

  “It’s from a P.I. my father had searching for my other brother, Michael.”

  “What does he say?”

  “He’s found him. He’s found Michael.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “He writes; ‘Subject found, ninety-nine percent certainty until DNA is verified. No contact made as yet, awaiting your further instructions.’”

  “Is there a picture?”

  “Oh yeah,”

  Jeffrey passed the laptop to her, and as Hanna stared at the photo, her eyes widened as her mouth formed into an O.

  ***

  Summer Gray slid from beneath the covers and padded towards the bathroom in her hotel room. Behind her, in bed, was one of the FBI agents tasked with catching Jeffrey Mitchell, his name was Art Cashman. Cashman was still breathing hard, and smiling.

  “Goddamn that was good, Summer, but are you sure your husband won’t be back anytime soon?”

  Summer was sitting on the toilet with the door open.

  “I’m sure, but are you sure that the FBI doesn’t know where Mitchell is?”

  “I told you, all we know is that he’s in Texas. If there were more to know than I would know it. I’m Special Agent Dyer’s go-to-guy, you know that.”

  Summer smirked. Agent Russ Smith was actually Dyer’s right hand man, but Smith was old and balding, while Cashman was fairly hot, so when she needed a source on the Mitchell case, Summer chose to seduce Cashman.

  “Are you doing, Dyer?” she asked.

  “Dyer? Shit, I don’t even know if she has sex. That woman is all business.”

  “So am I, and the second you know something call me. I have to be there when Mitchell is caught; I have to make it look like I had something to do with it.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll get your fifteen minutes of fame, but oh man, look how late it is. I have to get to the airport; our jet to Texas will be wheels up soon.”

  “I’ll be right behind you, so call when you know where you’ll be staying.”

  “Yeah yeah, now where the hell did my shoes go?”

  ***

  After Cashman left, Todd Gray, Summer’s husband entered the room.

  “What did Cashman say?”

  “He said, and I quote, ‘Oh baby, do that again,’”

  “Stop kidding around, do they know where Mitchell is hiding?”

  “No, just that it’s Texas,”

  “That guy is next to useless; we need to find a higher source of information.”

  Summer placed her arms around her husband.

  “I’m glad you agree, and that’s why I want you to seduce Agent Dyer.”

  “Dyer? Hmm, she’s not half bad looking; she might even be hot if she didn’t wear her hair so short.”

  “She’s your target when we get to Texas, and once you gain her trust, find out everything she knows.”

  “Fine, but what about t
he operation here?”

  “The arson? It can wait.”

  “I hope you haven’t changed your mind, because I just came from setting another fire.”

  “No, we’ll still go through with it. We’re on Jessica White’s home turf. If we break a case here it will make her look even worse and us look better, combine that with getting our names associated with Mitchell’s capture, and we’re gold.”

  “Okay, I figure two more fires ought to do it, and I already have a place picked out where I saw a bum sleeping it off on an old mattress; it always helps if there’s a dead body involved.”

  “That’s good, but we still have to find a patsy for the fire.”

  “I got one. The dude was in the papers the other day, he’s already suspected of starting a fire at the company that canned him, so the cops will buy him as the arsonist.”

  Summer squealed.

  “Oh baby, we are on our way. Once we catch Mitchell and ‘solve’ a few more cases we’ll be signing book deals and going on speaking tours. There’s good money in giving speeches, and Jessica White must be getting rich off that book of hers.”

  “I’m all for getting rich, but Mitchell and that psycho wife of his scare me; let’s make sure that we don’t actually come in contact with them. We can’t spend the money if we’re dead.”

  “Mitchell is the FBI’s problem. I just want to be there when they take the pictures of his capture.”

  Todd took out his phone.

  “I’ll book us a flight to Texas, but where in Texas?”

  “Dallas, the FBI believes that Mitchell is somewhere north of Dallas.”

  ***

  Somewhere east of Dallas, Hank Doyle kept an eye on Kathy Jessup as he motored towards Circe.

  He had decided not to restrain her in any way, since she seemed docile enough, but he had warned her that he would hurt her if she gave him any trouble. It was a bluff, though. He had never struck a woman and wasn’t about to start.

  Kathy was wearing a pair of jeans with a hooded sweatshirt when the trip began, but had removed the sweatshirt to reveal a skimpy top that exposed her midriff and cleavage.

  Despite himself, Doyle’s eyes lingered on her more than once.

  “It’s okay to look, you know?” Kathy said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You, you like what you see when you look at me, don’t you?”

  “You’re an attractive girl, yes.”

  “I’m not a girl, I’m a woman, and you’ve already seen me in just my nightie.”

 

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