by D. V. Berkom
Selena took a step, but hesitated. Her voice wavered. “Her name is Amy. She's nine years—”
There was a popping sound from the patio. Shards of glass splintered onto the floor as a series of bullets burst through the window. Selena cried out and grabbed her side, a dark, red blood stain spreading beneath her fingers. The next rounds hit the wall next to Leine. A lamp and several picture frames attached to the wall shattered. She dove under the pool table and rolled, coming out the other side in a crouch. Her breath caught at the excruciating pain that radiated from her ribs. Blood pounding in her ears, she pushed past the throbbing ache and raised her gun, trying to locate the source of the shots.
Eyes wide with shock, Selena fell to her knees and onto her side, curling into a fetal position next to the French doors, blocking entry. She was still alive, evidenced by the rise and fall of her rib cage. A shadow crossed in front of one of the windows. Leine fired. Bullets ricocheted off the floor in front of her.
Leine quickly backed out of the room and called 911.
“State your emergency,” the woman on the other end of the line requested.
“Shots fired, 88838 Mulholland Drive. Two gunmen down, presumed dead. One armed, but wounded. There's an unarmed Caucasian female severely wounded, approximately twenty-seven years old. We need an ambulance.” Her side hurt like hell and she could barely take a breath, making it hard to talk. She worked to contain the adrenaline flowing through her body. “There are three others in the house who may be armed. I'm a Caucasian female, five-ten with auburn hair, wearing black slacks and a black jacket. My name is Leine Basso and I am armed. A twelve-year-old girl is in immediate danger and I'm going inside to find her. Tell your officers not to shoot me. Contact Detective Santiago Jensen. He knows the particulars.”
“Officers are on their way.”
Leine disconnected. Someone was coming down the hall.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
LEINE SLIPPED INTO THE SHADOW of a doorway. Her opponent's movement was cautious, the owner intent on surprise. Quieting her breathing, she waited. The tremor she'd noticed before in her hand returned.
The steps slowed and then paused as though the assailant was uncertain whether to continue. Enveloped in shadow, Leine had the advantage, but the narrow hallway restricted her options. There'd be no room for error.
The footsteps resumed, the pace even more wary. Leine waited until she saw the barrel of the gun in the dim light. She exploded from the doorway, hitting him hard, and knocked the gun from his hand. The weapon skipped across the tile. At first surprised, his expression hardened. He came forward, swinging his right hand, his left hanging lifelessly by his side. She stepped right and his fist slammed into the wall behind her. Leine shifted again to the right, raised her gun and fired.
The gunman grunted as he spiraled backwards before falling to the floor, taking out a hall table on his way down. Too much noise, she thought, as she reached down to check his pulse. His left shoulder was covered in blood. He was the same man she'd shot through the shoulder on the patio. Assured he wouldn't give her any more trouble, she sprinted down the hallway toward the main part of the house. Outside, the sound of wheels on gravel told her someone was leaving. It had to be Greg. Of course he'd run. Why stay and fight? He'd successfully delivered Mara to his client. His job was done.
Leine ran through the cavernous kitchen, searching for the stairs. She found them on the other side of the dining room and quietly descended to the lower floor, caution overriding her desire to find Mara and get her out of the house before anything happened to her.
She wasn't sure if the man she'd just killed in the upstairs hallway was the same man who'd shot Selena through the window. Was he one of the men Selena said she saw in the basement? That would mean there were either two or three left. It wasn't Greg or the buyer, so that left Greg's security guy and possibly another man. Leine ejected the nearly empty magazine from her gun into her palm, pulled a full one from her jacket pocket and snapped it into place.
At the bottom of the steps was a large space with more overstuffed furniture and a built-in media center, the panels open to reveal a flat screen. To her left was a short hallway with two doors: one at the end led to a garage, the other opened onto a utility room. To the right was a longer corridor with several doors. She walked down the carpeted hallway, methodically checking inside each room.
She came to a set of double doors and listened to make sure no one was on the other side. When she didn't hear anything, she eased it open and looked in the spacious room.
Two movie cameras on dollies stood at either side of a king-sized bed, giving Leine a strong sense of déjà vu. Studio lighting, resembling that used on television shows, had been installed. Electrical cords snaked across the floor, secured to the carpeting with wide strips of gaffer's tape. The walls had been painted a delicate pink and fresh flowers stood in a vase on top of a bedside table.
This is where the bastard acts out his twisted fantasies. Fighting the bile that rose in her throat, Leine backed out of the room and closed the door.
The blow to her elbow took her by surprise. She barely managed to keep her hold on the gun as the numbness shot through her forearm and wrist. She whirled around, supporting the semiautomatic with both hands, but was met with another strike, this time from above. The gun fell soundlessly to the floor. She recognized her attacker.
Rico.
Leine stepped away as his foot snapped up, barely missing her face. She grabbed for his heel, but he dropped and rolled backward into a somersault, regaining his footing. Head down, he came at her and they both fell to the floor. Leine rolled clear of him and pushed to her feet, clamping her mouth closed to keep from crying out. Rico scrambled to his feet and lunged for her. His hand shot out, heel first, aiming at her throat. She dodged to the side as she knocked his hand away and latched onto his fingers, bending them back until he cried out.
“I should have known you'd be part of this, Rico. Scumbags always seem to stick together.” Leine struggled to catch her breath. Each inhalation burned like fire. “What's your part in this? You like little girls, too?”
“Fuck you, Leine. You don’t know shit,” Rico said, and sagged to his knees, gasping.
“I know there's an innocent little girl somewhere in this house who isn't going to be the starring attraction in some pervert's warped idea of a blockbuster.” Leine gave his hand a vicious twist before she shoved him onto his back with her foot. She retrieved her gun from the floor and walked back to where Rico was struggling to rise. He stopped moving when he saw the barrel of the gun pointed at him. “You gave the traffickers the information about Miles, didn't you?”
Rico looked away.
She stepped closer. “That's it, isn't it? How much did Greg pay you?”
He turned his head toward her, his expression defiant. “It was easy to convince Miles that Selena was his sister. He's an idiot. I taught her everything I knew about him and let me tell you, it was extensive. He's like a fucking open book. No one would've been the wiser if he'd listened to me and fired you when I told him to.”
“This is a little girl's life we're talking about, here, Rico. Not a movie deal.” Leine resisted the urge to smash her gun against his head. “Where's Mara?”
Rico sneered. “Like I'd tell you, bitch.”
Leine bent over and shoved the gun against his forehead. “I don't have time for this, asshole. Where are they keeping the girl?”
Rico's eyes shifted right. “She's not here.”
“You're lying.” She pressed the barrel harder into his skull. “As you can see, the gun has a suppressor on it. No one will hear when I kill you.”
Beads of sweat appeared on Rico's forehead, but he remained silent.
The faint sound of sirens wailed in the distance. Leine let up on the pressure and took a step back. “Okay, Rico. I'm sure the police will be able to squeeze the information out of you when they get here, but I doubt they'll go very easy on you. I'll be sure to
tell them how well you cooperated. I imagine it will be hard to service clients from prison. “
Rico closed his eyes and swallowed. “Last door on the right,” he finally replied.
“Thanks, Rico. You're quite the standup guy.” She closed the distance between them. “This might hurt,” she warned, and slammed the gun into his temple. Rico's eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed to the floor. “At least, I hope so.”
Leine raced to the end of the corridor and stopped at the last door on the right. She tried the handle, but it was locked. Both the door and the surrounding frame looked to be constructed of reinforced steel. She gently rapped her knuckles alongside the frame, then stepped back and fired several shots into the wall, blasting a hole through it next to the doorknob. Then she reached inside, unlocked the door and pushed it open.
A shirtless Stone Ellison stood on the far side of the room, next to a tall dresser, indignation and anger apparent on his face. His expression changed to disbelief when he saw Leine's gun. A flat screen T.V. hung against one wall, the images flashing across it the subject of which Leine would never forget. Mara sat huddled and shaking against the headboard of the king-sized bed, tears streaming down her face, gripping the bedcovers to her chin. A frilly white sundress adorned with tiny pink bows lay next to her.
The muffled sound of people yelling on the floor above them told her the police had arrived. Keeping the gun trained on Ellison, Leine held out her hand. “You're safe now, Mara.”
With a sob, Mara slid off the bed and ran to her, throwing her arms around her and burying her face in her side. Leine was relieved to see she still wore a tee shirt and underwear. She pulled off her jacket and wrapped it around the young girl's shoulders, watching the man standing in the corner with contempt. Ellison's arrogant expression faltered as the full import of what was happening hit him.
“I'd shoot you now if I wasn't certain your time in prison would be the worst kind of hell. Pedophiles don't usually do very well.” With one last glance at the monster in the corner, Leine turned and gently took Mara by the hand, leading her out into the hallway, away from Ellison.
The first of several uniformed officers reached the bottom of the stairs and started toward them, guns drawn.
“Drop your gun and step away from the girl,” the one in front shouted as he moved past Rico's inert body.
Leine tossed her gun to the floor and raised her hands above her head. “I'm the one that called. My name is Leine Basso.” She glanced at Mara as she backed away from the frightened little girl. The terror on her face almost broke Leine's heart. “It's all right, Mara. Don't be afraid. This will all be over soon.”
Mara stood alone in the middle of the hallway, her whole body shaking. She turned to look at Leine. “Please don't let them take me back,” she said, tears coursing down her face.
“I won't, honey. I promise.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
LEINE WALKED UP TO THE familiar wooden doors and rang the doorbell. No M-4 carrying security detail greeted her this time. A few moments later the door opened and a grinning Miles appeared. He stepped forward and wrapped her in a gentle hug, then released her.
“Glad you could make it. We're in the back, by the pool. April and Cory are already here.”
Miles led her down the hallway, through the kitchen and out the door to the patio. Clusters of people stood chatting with each other, many of whom Leine had met during her time as Miles' bodyguard. Out on the lawn, several older children kicked a soccer ball back and forth. The pool was alive with splashing, screaming kids of all ages, throwing bright-colored beach balls at each other, their parents relaxing on the chaise lounges, enjoying the warm day. April saw Leine and waved. She and Cory sat together at a table with another couple next to the pool.
A waiter walked by with a tray of festive drinks. Miles grabbed two and offered Leine one.
She took a sip and looked at him in surprise. “No tequila?”
He shrugged. “Thought I should tone things down, now that I'm going to be a dad.”
At that moment, Mara came running up to them and threw her arms around Leine in a giant bear hug. “I'm so glad you're here! Look what Miles got me.” She held out a shiny new iPad. “It holds tons of books and music and stuff.”
“Yeah, she's working on her library,” Miles said, pride mixed with tenderness evident in his voice.
“That's pretty cool, Mara,” Leine said.
Mara beamed. A boy who looked to be about her age came up and whispered something in her ear. She giggled and nodded. “Aiden wants me to come and play soccer,” she said, by way of explanation.
“You should ask April and Cory if they'd like to play. They both love soccer,” Leine suggested.
“All right. I will.” Mara bounded down the stairs toward the pool, Aiden in tow.
“She looks happy,” Leine said, watching them. She turned to Miles. “And so do you. How are things going with the adoption?”
“Should be happening soon. Her biological mother can't be located. It seems she didn't leave a forwarding address after Mara was put into foster care, and there's no information on the father's whereabouts.” A look of sadness skated across his face, but it was soon replaced with a smile. “The next hurdle is a site visit, but they've told me it's just a technicality. It should only be a matter of weeks until Mara gets to come home permanently.”
“That's great, Miles. I'm glad.”
“How's Selena? Is she out of the hospital yet?”
“The doctors are shooting for next Friday. She's lucky to be alive.”
“I doubt she'll think so when she finds out Greg hasn't told the police where to find her sister.”
“Yeah.” Leine gazed out at the rolling hills and sighed. Not finding Amy was an unacceptable loose end. Leine really hated loose ends, especially when it involved a child. She'd already put a couple of calls in to see if she could find out anything. One of her contacts had uncovered a couple of promising leads. “I heard the D.A. told him they'd float him a deal if he gives up the names of his clients. They might be able to find her that way.”
“So there's hope.” Miles gave her a half-hearted smile and took a sip of his drink.
“I was wondering when you were going to get here.”
Leine turned at the sound of the familiar voice. Santiago Jensen walked over and put his arm around her waist. He leaned in to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek and whispered, “How long did you want to stay?”
“Haven't we left yet?” Leine laughed and slipped her hand in his as she turned toward their host. “Thank you for inviting us, Miles, but something's come up and we're going to have to leave.”
Miles narrowed his eyes at them and grinned. “Thanks for coming, at least for a few minutes. I'll call you next week. We'll do lunch.” He put his hand to his ear like a telephone. “Have fun, you two,” he added, and walked over to join a group of people chatting nearby.
Leine and Jensen walked hand in hand through the crowd, back into the house.
“To what do I owe this surprise?” Leine asked as he opened the front door for her and they walked outside.
“They dropped the murder charges. The files checked out.”
Finally. It was a bittersweet victory. Carlos was still dead. “And what about Eric?”
Jensen shrugged. “What about him? The poor bastard was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Gang activity in that area has been escalating. He shouldn't have been there alone in the first place.”
Leine felt her shoulders relax. She was in the clear, free to be with Jensen without having to look over her shoulder. “What's going to happen to Ellison?”
“He'll do some serious time. Turns out he's part of a group involved in international child pornography. They trade videos between themselves and identify members by wearing a distinctive ring. The task force is working with Interpol and designated a special team to go after the others.”
Leine leaned her head back to feel the sun on her fa
ce and took a deep breath of fresh air. Mara was safe and would soon be adopted, giving her a home and Miles the family he'd always longed for. Greg and his 'talent agency' were history. His computer and files had been confiscated, and investigators were combing through them to find out how far his network reached, as well as piecing together who the victims were.
There were still so many out there who needed help, but it was a start. Her friend Lou had asked her if she'd be interested in working with SHEN, helping to locate missing children. Leine had already decided she would. With her background and skill set, it was a natural fit.
Sometimes, she thought, things really do work out.
THE END
HUMAN TRAFFICKING STATISTICS:
-According to the U.S. State Department, more than two million people are trafficked worldwide every year. Eighty percent of these victims are exploited for sexual slavery; fifty percent are minors.
-Human trafficking is the fastest growing criminal enterprise in the world with profits in excess of $32 billion, second only to the illegal drug trade. (U.S. State Department)
-As many as 2.8 million children run away each year in the US. Within 48 hours, one-third of these children are lured or recruited into the underground world of prostitution and pornography. (National Center for Missing and Exploited Children)
-Experts estimate that 100,000-300,000 American children are at risk of becoming victims of commercial child prostitution; girls as young as 12 and boys as young as 11 are being victimized. (NCMEC).
-Child pornography is one of the fastest growing crimes in the United States. Nationally, there has been a 2500% increase in arrests in 10 years. (FBI).
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