Sin (Sinclair O'Malley Book 1)

by J. M. LeDuc

  “Not since we have been in here, but your face is swollen and black and blue.”

  Sin opened her mouth wide and moved her jaw from side to side. That explains a lot.

  Suddenly, a thought came to Sin. “Ximena, did you see any of the men touch me in any other way?”

  “Si, every time the men come down here, they give you a shot.”

  A shot. No wonder I’ve been out for almost two days.

  Sin contracted the muscles in her chest, trying to see if she felt anything between her breasts. Nothing. “Are you sure no one touched me?”

  Ximena nodded. “They threw you down here when we first came on the ship.”

  Sin smiled. “I need you to pull the bottom of my shirt out of my pants.”

  When the girl did, Sin expected to see her straight-edged razor fall out of her shirt, but nothing was there.

  Suddenly, the door to the hold opened up and familiar face glared back at Sin. He had an uncanny resemblance to Veloz.

  “You’re an ugly fuck,” Sin said. “You have a name?”

  The face sneered back with broken teeth. “You may call me El Diablo.”

  “The devil, how original.”

  Sin watched his eyes as they went from her face to the bottom of her shirt which was hanging in front of her jeans.

  A lecherous laugh bellowed from his lips. “Did you think I left you with your blade?” He held her pearl-handled razor in his hand. “I’m going to enjoy cutting you.” He looked over his shoulder and yelled. “Grab the puta and bring her to my quarters.”

  Two men grabbed her and cut the ties around her ankles.

  First mistake, she thought.

  Sin was brought—dragged—through the ship. She tripped twice in order to get a better look at the boat and to try to ascertain how many men were on board.

  She was shoved through the door to the main cabin and fell on the hardwood floor.

  The door behind her slammed shut and the room went dark.

  “Fuck, that hurts,” she said.

  She could sense the presence of another person in the room. “Who else is in here?”

  She heard footsteps and the click of a light switch. Tia was standing by the switch.

  “Thank god you’re all right, Sin sighed.

  Tia ran to where Sin was sprawled, wrapped her frail arms around her neck, and bawled like a baby.

  “Isn’t that sweet.” Sarcasm bled through the words.

  Sin moved her eyes from Tia to the man standing at the door—El Diablo.

  He moved like a man in charge. Sin couldn’t help notice that her pearl-handled revolvers were strapped to his waist.

  “Nice guns,” she said.

  He sat on a leather couch, opened a humidor, and pulled out a cigar, sliding it under his nose and inhaling deep. “They say Cuba make best cigars,” he said in broken English. “I think Nicaragua.” He pulled Sin’s razor out of his pocket, flicked it open, and cut the end off the cigar. “You have good taste in weapons.” He lit the cigar with her pearl embossed lighter and slowly let the smoke trail from his lips.

  His voice took on an evil tone as the smoke blurred out his beady eyes. “I can’t wait to use them on you.”

  Sin whispered to Tia who then scooted away from her.

  “So, ‘El Diablo,’ do you have a name, or do I just call you dickhead?”

  He slammed the lighter down on a table, leaned forward in his seat, and flicked his ash on Sin. “I am the man who is going to take your life, that’s all you need to know,” he spit through broken, stained teeth.

  “You’re too ugly not to be related to Veloz. Brother?”

  “Cousin,” he replied.

  Now, we’re getting somewhere, Sin thought. “Where the hell did you come from. I killed every maggot in that building.”

  He took another pull off his cigar. “I work the other end. While my cousin sat around getting fat and stupid, I was collecting the girls.” He leaned forward in the chair. “You didn’t see me because you got sloppy. You were too worried about the girl,” he pointed his cigar at Tia, “to see me jump off the back of the truck in front of the building. When I saw no guards and couldn’t reach my cousin, I grabbed a shovel from the side of the building and snuck up on you.” He had a grin on his face almost as big as his ego as he rehashed the story.

  Sin’s demeanor didn’t change. “Who’s running this show?”

  “You did me a favor when you killed Sebastian.” He finger pointed his chest. “Now, I am running show.”

  “Buull-shit,” Sin elongated the word for emphasis. “If that was true, I’d be dead. You take your orders from someone else.”

  She could see him getting flustered with the questions. Sin knew if she continued to push him, she would have him questioning his own thoughts. That made her smile—on the inside. “You think you’re a big man—a man in charge?” she said. “You mean nothing to them. You’re as dead as I am.”

  The man flew off the chair and backhanded Sin. “I run show!”

  He stormed through the cabin and slammed the door shut.

  Sin licked the blood off her lip. He’s dumber than I thought. That makes him dangerous.

  Her eyes went to the table—and her lighter.

  Second mistake.

  CHAPTER 35

  Sweat dripped onto the dark mahogany desk as Jeremiah Heap held the phone away from his ear.

  “You listen to me!” bellowed the electronic voice. “I will pop that over inflated ego and bust in your fucking skull if you say another word.”

  “I . . . I . . . I was just trying to—”

  “Not a-nother god damn word.” Anger rasped through the phone line. “You’re being paid a shitload of money to rent out your studio and to keep your mouth shut. Do you understand?”

  “There are rumors going around that I had something to do with the dead girls,” he hissed. “I am not taking the fall for something I was never a part of.”

  “If I want you to take the fall, you will. I dragged your fat ass out of a shit pile from the bayou of New Orleans and plopped you in the lap of luxury of the Florida Keys, and I can put you right back there. Is that understood?”

  Heap wiped his brow with his shirtsleeve and slammed his fist onto his desk. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked, but I’m not part of this—whatever this is.”

  Laughter could be heard funneling through the cell phone. “You really are just a dumb Southern preacher, aren’t you? Do as you’re told and you’ll be fine. Step out of line and I’ll see that you get locked up, not just for murder, but as a pedophile.”

  Heap could hear his pulse emanating in his ear like waves crashing on the shore line.

  “And we both know what happens to pedophiles in jail.”

  Heap jerked his phone away from his ear as the caller slammed the phone down. He felt defeated as he stared at the black screen of his cell phone, his heart pounding against his chest wall, as if trying to break out of its own prison.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Heap looked up and stared at his wife. He hadn’t even heard her come in.

  She stood by the door that connected their offices. She had a tanned complexion, was moderately dressed, yet she oozed an innocent sex appeal—she was the embodiment of everything he ever wanted. The reason he was in the trouble he was.

  She liked nice things and he was determined to be able to provide them. That was why he agreed to rent the studio to an anonymous tenant and why he tried so hard to grow his flock.

  “Jeremiah, are you even listening to me?”

  Her voice—as tender as a baby bird, yet as compelling as a seductive songstress—snapped him out of his inner thoughts. He plastered a Sunday morning smile on his harried face. “I’m fine darlin’. Just some financial issues to deal with, that’s all.”


  She sashayed toward him and pecked him on the cheek. “As long as everything is fine, I’m going to take the day and go to Coral Gables for a little dress shopping. There is just no place for a lady to find a decent article of clothing down here.”

  Heap’s shoulders slumped as he exhaled in a sigh. “Why don’t you just go to Key West? Coral Gables is a three hour drive and I don’t like you driving back at night.”

  Maggie smiled and fluttered her fake eyelashes at him. “I said no place to shop for a lady, and I’ll find a hotel to stay for the evening and come back in the morning.”

  Heap dropped his head and shook it in defeat. “Fine, just be gentle on the credit cards.”

  She lifted his head and gently kissed his lips—her perfume lingering on his skin. “See you tomorrow,” she said ending the embrace.

  CHAPTER 36

  “I’m worried about the fat man,” the modulated voice said.

  “I’ll make sure the prophet capitulates,” came another electronically altered voice—a higher pitched voice. “You just get me that shipment. We have a couple of new subscribers for the next show and I plan on giving them their money’s worth.”

  “You sound excited.”

  “You’ve never complained before.”

  A sadistic laugh was shared between the two.

  “What’s the story with O’Malley?” said the higher voice.

  “She’ll arrive with the shipment.”

  “Which is when?”

  “The boat should be there by early morning.”

  “That doesn’t leave us much time, we go live at one a.m. the following day.”

  “Not my problem.”

  There was a hesitation before the conversation continued. “I’m glad this is the last show. Things are getting out of hand down here.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’ll handle things on my end. You finish up down there and we will meet as planned.”

  “Looking forward to it and I will have a special gift for you when I arrive.”

  “Will she be wrapped?”

  “Unwrapping her will be the fun part.”

  A lascivious groan could be heard through the phone. “I can’t wait.”

  “Patience.”

  “Not one of my virtues.”

  “You have no virtues, that’s why we make such a good pair.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Sin woke up, her clothes clung to her with sweat. Again, her head felt like someone had used her skull as a base drum. Her eyelids felt as if they were glued shut as she pried them open. The pain in her joints let her know that her ankles and wrists were cuffed.

  The last thing she remembered was being given some water to drink. That prick drugged me again.

  Her vision was slow to focus, but when it did, she was glad to see Tia still in the room with her. Sin groaned while trying to sit up, and Tia came to help.

  “Are we alone?” Sin whispered.

  Tia nodded.

  “When was the last time anyone came down here?”

  “Mr. Humberto was down here a few minutes ago.”

  “Humberto, huh,” Sin smiled. “Did he tell you his name?”

  Tia shook her head. “No, I heard another other man call him by that name.”

  Sin squeezed her eyes closed trying to abate the headache. “You’re just full of useful information. What else can you tell me?”

  Tia looked around the room as if to make sure no one could see or hear them and then pulled the leg of Sin’s jeans up.

  Sin jerked away. “What are you doing?”

  Tia put her finger over her lips. Sin mouthed she was sorry and let Tia raise the leg of her jeans above her boot. Tia reached into her boot and pulled out Sin’s lighter.

  Sin’s eyes lit up when she saw what Tia had done. She leaned forward and kissed the girl on the top of her head. “Good girl,” she breathed.

  Voices and footsteps could be heard getting closer to the cabin.

  “Put it back in my boot and straighten my jeans,” Sin said.

  She sat up and watched Humberto enter the cabin with another man. “Is he the boss?” Sin goaded. “He’s bigger and better looking than you.”

  Humberto’s upper lip quivered involuntarily as he plopped his muscle-bound body in to the leather chair. “There is nothing you can say that will anger me,” he said.

  “I doubt that,” Sin disagreed. “I’m pretty good at pissing people off.”

  “I have been promised a fortune for your capture. It seems there is a price on the head of the ‘Perla Angel de la Muerte.’ ”

  Sin rolled her eyes. “You really are stupid, Humberto.”

  His lip quivered again.

  “Yeah, I know your name, but I think I’ll call you Hummer for short. Like it?”

  He shot up and slapped her face as he walked by her. “No, I don’t like it, Angel. For now on, I am El Diablo.”

  Sin licked her lips and tasted a tinge of blood. Let’s see how far I can push this asshole, she thought. “Sucker, Diablo, Hummer. They are all the same thing,” she said. “They all describe how you will be spending the rest of your days in prison.”

  Humberto reached down and grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her toward him. “You think you’re so funny,” he bellowed. “If you weren’t worth so much money, I would fuck you and kill you now.” He shoved her away and she landed hard on the wood floor.

  “Damn,” Sin groaned, as she twisted into a seated position. “So, just for a minute, let’s assume you’re correct, and you are the new boss.” Sin wanted to diffuse the situation—stoke his ego a bit. “When do I get to meet your employer?”

  “Ah,” Humberto replied, “that is why I have come on this trip. We will be docking in six hours.” He motioned the other man over. “The two of you are very important. I can’t risk you trying anything stupid, so I came to deliver you myself.” He pointed at Sin and snarled, “The money on your head is ‘dead or alive,’ so if you try anything, I will kill you.”

  Another guard entered with food and water. Humberto reached for one of the water bottles, took a swig, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and gave it back to the guard.

  Sin watched the guard place the bottles on the table, her eyes following the one Humberto drank from. As much as she disliked the idea of drinking after him, she knew that one wasn’t tainted. These bastards aren’t knocking me out again.

  “Eat,” the guard said.

  “I don’t have much of an appetite,” Sin responded.

  Humberto shrugged. “No matter. You’ll be dead by tomorrow.” He faced the guard and pointed to Tia. “Take the girl.”

  CHAPTER 38

  The shit had hit the fan all around Tumbleboat and the Lower Keys when Heap and Miller found out the girls in the orphanage were missing.

  They had all boarded a bus as planned to go to the Miami Seaquarium, but they never went. Charlie pulled a double switch at a rest stop, loaded everyone in two delivery vans and drove them back towards Tumbleboat.

  York and his men had been so busy trying to find Sin, they paid no attention to the girls. Now they were scrambling—searching house to house looking for any sign of the girls and Rosa. Troy had notified his superiors of the girls’ disappearance and the state police were also involved in the investigation. He also mentioned that he thought York might have had something to do with the missing girls, so the state police were keeping a close eye on York and his crew.

  The entire situation was like a scene out of a Keystone cop movie—everyone blaming everyone else, no one having any idea what was going on.

  From the outside looking in, it was all a bit ludicrous. Troy knew exactly where the girls were. Charlie, being the conspiracy theorist he was, decided he couldn’t trust anyone, so instead of bringing the girls to Miami, he brought the girls and Rosa to the Johnson place. He hated the id
ea of anyone knowing about the house, but if there was ever a time to let the cat out of the bag, this was it.

  Since Fletcher and the rest of Sin’s unit touched down in Key West, Charlie had them staking out the reef. He also equipped Fletcher’s boat with video surveillance which was fed to his office. He was able to keep an eye on the water from inside his office.

  From inside the library at the Johnson place, Charlie stared at the video feed of the water. The past two days had been the same—boats started to gather on the outer reef around four a.m. and on the middle reef after the sun rose in the morning. No one had gone anywhere near the inner reef.

  Charlie looked at his watch, picked up a radio, and spoke into the mic. “Is everyone in place?”

  “We have the north and south point of the island covered, and a fishing boat out in the water,” Fletcher answered. “A gold fish won’t get near the reef without us knowing it.”

  “Ten four.”

  “Have you heard from Troy?” Fletcher asked.

  “No word,” Charlie said. “I want an hourly check in,” he continued, “judging by the nautical mileage between Puerto Cabezas, Nicaragua and Tumbleboat, we may see some action on the reef tonight.”

  “Eyes and ears are open; we’ll report as ordered,” Fletcher answered.

  “You want another beer?” Bubba asked, slapping Troy on the back.

  Troy leaned over the pool table, drew the cue stick back and with a quick release, fired the cue ball into the rack. Balls seemed to explode in all directions, careening off rails and each other. Three dropped into the pockets including the eight ball.

  Troy stood up—a cocky expression on his face and smirked at the boys. “Sure,” he told Bubba, “and Joey’s paying since I just won the game.”

  Bubba laughed at Joey’s misfortune and whistled to the waitress. “It’s good to have you back where you belong, Troy,” he said.