When She's Gone

by Palmer, Jane;

“Is there a point to this meeting?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If so, you should just get on with it.”

  “Sit down.”

  Ara didn’t move. She wouldn’t give him an inch, wouldn’t allow him to bully her. She’d had just about enough of this whole thing. She’d been alone for hours with nothing but regret and horrible memories to ponder. Now she had a person in front of her she could pour all those emotions on.

  A flicker of something crossed his face. “Can I trust you, Ara?”

  The question came out so low, she almost thought she’d imagined it. But then he pinned her with those sharp blue eyes of his, searching for the truth.

  “What game are you playing now?”

  “No game,” he said, his steady gaze never leaving hers. “There have been some developments in the case.”

  Like a switch, her anger melted, and fear mingled with horror took its place. She almost couldn’t choke out the words. “Did you find her?”

  “No. Not yet.”

  Relief rushed over her, so heady she swayed. Her hand grabbed the back of the chair to steady herself. “What’s going on?”

  “Before I can tell you more, I need to know if I can trust you.”

  “You can.” She straightened up. “For the last time, I didn’t have anything to do with Sam’s kidnapping.”

  He didn’t miss a beat. “Prove it.”

  “How?”

  “Answer my questions.” Luke sat up, folding his hands together on the table. “All of them.”

  She narrowed her eyes. He’d had plenty of time to ask questions. Why now? What had he learned?

  What if he’s done more research? What if he asks about . . .

  No. Her past was long buried and done, and there was no way for Luke to dig it back up again. Moving to the United States had wiped the slate clean. And besides, she couldn’t find Sam from behind bars. If Luke was offering her a way out of jail, she had to take it.

  “You have questions for me about Sam.” She took a deep breath and tugged at her long sleeves, making sure her scars were covered. “Let’s do this. Ask them.”

  He gestured again to the chair across from him.

  “I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you.”

  “Fine.” He rose from his own chair and stepped away from the table. She recognized the move for what it was—an interrogation tactic. He wouldn’t allow her to tower over him or be in any kind of position of power.

  It rankled her, but she admired it as well. She would have done exactly the same thing in his shoes.

  “Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Sam? Or get back at her in some way?”

  “No. She’s your typical teenager. She gets into trouble sometimes, but it’s nothing extreme.”

  “What do you consider extreme?”

  She let go of the back of the chair and started pacing. “Lately, she’s been acting out more. Skipping school, not doing her homework, more of the club scene. Hanging out with kids that probably aren’t a good influence on her. At the same time, she’s seemed happier. Less snarky. It’s hard to explain.”

  “Did you know that Sam was involved with drugs?”

  She let out a breath. “I suspected, but I didn’t know for sure. I . . .”

  He arched his brows. “Now is not the time to stay silent. If you know something, you need to say it.”

  He was right, but she hated this all the same. “You said Grant didn’t have anything to do with Sam’s disappearance?”

  “He didn’t. But you knew she might be involved with drugs and never said a word. That leaves me questioning your motives.”

  “I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know for sure she was.” She sighed. “The truth is, I suspected she was doing them while Gannon was guarding her, and it caused a lot of fights between us.”

  Luke’s brow creased. “I thought you were Sam’s primary bodyguard?”

  “I am. Well, I was up until school started. Oliver decided it would be better for me to stick with Holly during the day. Sam spent her afternoons guarded by Gannon.” She frowned. “When you talked to Grant, did he confirm that Sam owed him money?”

  “He did. Why?”

  “Because I don’t understand why Sam wouldn’t pay him. She doesn’t get much cash from Oliver, but she has a credit card she uses most of the time. What was she doing with her cash if she wasn’t paying Grant?”

  Luke titled his head in thought. “We’ve interviewed Gannon. He hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.”

  Ara stilled. “Did you do a background check on him?”

  “We did.” She could tell by his facial expression that nothing had come of it, but questions were starting to play in his mind. “What are you doing, Ara?”

  “I’m trying to help you. I’m trying to figure out what is going on.”

  “Are you? Or are you trying to point fingers at other potential suspects?”

  She spun to face him. “Do you think I like doing this? Do you think I want to believe Gannon might’ve had something to do with Sam’s disappearance? I don’t. But she’s missing. I didn’t help the kidnappers, but I can’t ignore the fact that someone else in the household might have, and Gannon is the one person who was with Sam the most, outside of me.”

  She took a deep breath. “What can I do to make you believe me?”

  He paused. “Tell me about the raid in Austin.”

  Ara stiffened. “You already know about it.”

  “I want to hear your version.”

  Panic set her heart pounding, and she spun away from him, taking a few shaky steps toward the far wall. Why couldn’t he let this go? “This has nothing to do with Sam.”

  “You’re right. But I won’t work with someone I can’t trust. I’ve been warned away from you by Captain Maxwell, and I need to know is if his assessment is correct.”

  “Then pull the reports.”

  “I already have. They’re contradictory at best. And I can’t let you on this case, give you potentially sensitive material, without knowing if I can trust you.” His voice turned soft, as comforting as a caress. “Tell me what happened that day, Ara. Let me judge for myself.”

  Oh, God, she couldn’t do this. She didn’t want to say the words aloud. She’d survived worse than the fallout from the raid—far worse—yet the loss of her career as a police officer was like an open sore she couldn’t bear to poke.

  But what choice did she have?

  Ara closed her eyes, gave herself a heartbeat to shore up her resolve.

  “I was part of a task force investigating a new network of human traffickers and drug dealers,” she said, still facing away from Luke. “These guys were new to the business but were working in conjunction with established cartels and had ties to the Russian mafia. They were particularly nasty. They’d cut out the tongues of anyone suspected of talking to the cops, and it seemed every time we managed to get a foothold into their organization, our contact would end up dead.”

  “Undercover officers?”

  She spun around but refused to look him in the eye. “We sent in two. Their bodies were found a month later. That’s when Captain Maxwell formed the task force. Our mission was to breach the network and take out a few of their operatives. The plan was to offer them a trade. Little to no jail time if they flipped on their superiors and named the men who’d killed our undercover detectives.”

  She started pacing the length of the room again. Luke tracked her movements, his expression grave.

  “It took more than six months to get a lead. No one would talk to us. Finally we got a tip about a house the traffickers might be using as a temporary holding place.”

  She remembered standing at the edge of the woods, the oppressive Texas heat crushing down on her. In her mind’s eye, she could see the house down below in the clearing. The warped front steps, the reflection of the morning light off the tin roof.

  “We were just about to begin the raid when a van full of new girls arrived. I wanted to m
ove out, to capture the suppliers along with the men in the house. Captain Maxwell overruled me.”

  “You didn’t agree with his decision?”

  “He felt we didn’t have the manpower necessary to take down all five men. I believed we did.”

  “What happened next?”

  “We waited until the delivery was complete.” The words were sterile, so mild compared to what had actually happened. How could she explain that she’d stood by helplessly while a line of little girls piled out of the back of an industrial van? How could she explain the terror on their faces? The way her heart wept at the sight of their malnourished bodies?

  She’d watched the leader, a man known only to her by his street name, Viktor, as he assessed each girl in turn. She’d shared every touch with those poor children—every strike, every insult, every swipe of Viktor’s hand as clearly as if he’d been doing it to her.

  Even now, the memory made her want to puke.

  When her eyes met Luke’s, she froze. Gone was the mask of indifference he normally wore. Now he stared at her with a mixture of horror and grief, and a strange kind of understanding.

  Ara swallowed past the lump in her throat and dropped her gaze from his. “After the suppliers left, we commenced with the raid. The first suspect, Whip, was an easy capture.”

  “And the second? The leader, Viktor?”

  “He disappeared into the basement. I led the way down. It was terrifying because we hadn’t been able to do much recon before the raid. We had no idea what we were walking into.” She bit her lip. The basement had been pitch black, the stairs creaky. She’d been afraid they wouldn’t hold her weight, let alone her teammates following behind her. “Viktor panicked. He was spraying gasoline all over the basement.”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea what the hell he was trying to do, except maybe burn the evidence.” This time, she met Luke’s eyes and held them. “He had all the girls down there with him, handcuffed to the beds. He made a move for his weapon. I tackled him, handcuffed him, and held him down while the other members of my team pulled those girls out one by one.”

  “What went wrong?”

  “They left one behind.”

  The echo of that child’s cry still played in Ara’s nightmares sometimes.

  Por favor. Por favor.

  “I couldn’t leave her there. She was frightened and alone, in the dark, and the basement’s soundproofing wouldn’t allow me to make contact with my team.” She squared her shoulders. “It was her or Viktor. So I made the decision to take her up and leave Viktor down in the basement. I handcuffed him to one of the beds. I figured I would take the girl upstairs, pass her over to one of my team members, and then go back for Viktor.”

  She didn’t tell Luke about the deep well of satisfaction she’d felt when Viktor’s handcuffs had clanked closed around the metal bed frame.

  “When I took her up the stairs, I realized all hell had broken loose. The team tracking the suppliers had lost them. They were interrogating Whip, trying to get him to give them some information to help. He wasn’t being cooperative.”

  “Is that when the explosion happened?”

  She nodded. “We found out later it was a spark from the water heater that set the basement on fire. It ignited all the gasoline Viktor had spread on the flooring.” She leaned against the wall, suddenly extremely tired. “He died.”

  “One of the reports said you went back into the house. That you tried to save him.”

  Ara closed her eyes. She could still smell the scent of burning wood. The smoke seemed impenetrable. The heat coming from the kitchen was intense, singeing her arm hair.

  Fear clawed up her spine, and time seemed to slow. Sheer force of will had her ignoring every instinct for retreat. Instead, Ara shut her eyes against the sting of the smoke. Placing a hand on the wall, she used it as a guide, moving further into the house.

  Go. Go. Go.

  Her fingers skipped over the opening to the bathroom. She saw the hallway in her mind, the kitchen, and the doorway to the basement. Only ten more steps ahead. Nine. Eight.

  It was like moving toward hell, the heat pouring over her in waves. The building hissed and groaned. It wouldn’t be standing for much longer. She couldn’t breathe. Dropping to her knees, she crawled forward, desperate to get to the basement.

  Opening her eyes, Ara snapped back into the present. “I did. But it was too late. There was nothing to be done. Captain Maxwell was furious with me. He felt I should have left the girl downstairs and taken up Viktor first, since Viktor was our best bet at breaking open the ring and catching the men who’d killed our fellow police officers.”

  Luke looked at her for a long moment. “What do you think?”

  “I think our undercover officers were dead, and they were going to stay dead whether we caught their killers or not. But that little girl had her whole life ahead of her. She hadn’t done anything wrong, and she didn’t deserve to spend one more minute down in that hellhole.” Tears welled in her eyes, and she swiped them away, embarrassed.

  Luke didn’t say anything. The only sound in the room was the whir of the heater and the dim chatter seeping in from the station outside the closed interrogation room door.

  Finally, he met her gaze.

  “I agree with you.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The words hung in the air between them, the tension so thick Ara could feel it prickling her skin.

  “We don’t have much time,” Luke continued. “There have been some new developments in Sam’s case, and I need your help.”

  “My help?”

  “We both want the same thing here, Ara. To find Sam.”

  She hesitated for a moment, judging whether his offer was sincere. “I want full access to Sam’s case. I can’t help you if you don’t give me all the information.”

  “You’re not a federal agent.”

  “I just spilled my guts to you. I think I’ve earned the right to hear everything.”

  Luke blinked, and his mouth twitched. He didn’t seem to like the idea, and she waited while he thought about it. Finally, he nodded. “On one condition.”

  “Okay.”

  “You don’t go rogue.” He leveled a cold, hard stare at her. “I don’t want you running off chasing leads without me. Either you work this as part of the team, or you’re off.”

  Ara met his stare with one of her own. “Fine.”

  A truce, then, if an uneasy one. Pulling out the chair, Ara sat down and looked up at him expectantly. Luke pushed the sandwich closer to her.

  “Eat. You’ll need your strength.”

  She unwrapped the sandwich, and her stomach gave an anticipatory growl. She took a bite. “You talk while I eat. I can multitask.”

  “We’ve heard from the kidnappers.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Ara had been fully informed about the case, and she’d inhaled all the food and the Coke. Obviously, he was right about one thing. She’d been starving.

  “Do you have a recording of the phone call?”

  Luke pulled out his cell phone and accessed a file on it. A man’s voice came through the speaker.

  “I have her.”

  Luke stopped the recording. “Do you recognize him?”

  She frowned. “No, but that’s not surprising, considering he’s using a voice distorter. I could be this guy’s sister and I wouldn’t recognize his voice. Have you sent the recording off to be cleaned up?”

  Luke nodded. “I have the best audio guys working on it, but it takes time.” He hit play again. This time it was Sam’s voice that came through the speaker, undistorted and frighteningly clear.

  “I’m not hurt.”

  Ara’s lunch turned to stones in her stomach. Only three words, but she could clearly hear the terror in Sam’s voice. She didn’t believe for a moment Sam wasn’t hurt.

  But at least she was alive.

  “I miss you, Ara.”

  Shock froze Ara in place. She barely registered the kidnapper�
��s distorted voice coming back on to remind them of the ticking clock and the need for money.

  Luke shut off the recording. “Why did Sam mention you?”

  “I don’t know.” She frowned. “Play it again.”

  She focused more carefully on the second run-through. Sam’s words were rushed, and Ara’s name sounded fainter than the rest of the sentence. Like they’d been taking the phone away from her as she said it.

  Ara got out of the chair and started pacing the room. “It must be a message of some kind, but I have no idea what it means.”

  “How can you be sure?” Luke leaned back in his chair, watching her movements. He was playing devil’s advocate, she realized. Helping her to work through what her gut was telling her. Forcing her to use logic.

  “Sam tolerates me, nothing more. She resents having to be followed around and protected.” She paused in her stride. “We’re not close, not enough for her to call out to me, and not her mother. That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

  She resumed her pacing. “However, she would assume that if something happened to her, I would be in the room when the kidnappers talked to her stepfather. I’m the one who follows her around, and I was there on the day of the kidnapping. One thing Sam can count on is that I’ll come looking for her.”

  “You know Sam better than you think. Walk me through it. What is she doing?”

  Ara frowned, trying to place herself in Sam’s position. “I’ve been kidnapped. I have one chance to get a message through, one shot at giving a clue.” She spun and faced Luke. “She can’t say anything that would make them suspicious.”

  “So she says something that can be interpreted in many different ways.” Appreciation dawned in Luke’s expression. “Smart.”

  “Sam’s a smart girl.” Ara gestured to the paused audio recording. “Maybe too smart for me, because I can’t figure out what the hell she wants me to get from this.”

  “If you were a cop on the case, what would you do?”

  Luke’s question cut through Ara’s racing mind. It provided her with focus and sudden clarity.

  “Take me back to the restaurant.”

  * * *

  The afternoon shadows were deepening as Ara and Luke entered Phillips. It was too late for the lunch crowd and too early for dinner, so most of the tables were empty. Soft lighting played perfectly off the wooden floor and linen tablecloths.