Deadly Ties

by Vicki Hinze

  “Good questions. Unfortunately, I can’t answer them.” His eyes red-rimmed from the lack of sleep, Jeff rubbed his neck. “Man, it just doesn’t make sense. These kinds of crimes are way outside NINA’s profile.”

  They were alien to NINA’s existing profile. “I have reason to believe NINA has expanded its operations.”

  “I see.” Jeff sobered, leaned against the counter ledge. “What do they want with Lisa?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You’re confident they didn’t make a mistake?” Jeff rubbed his jaw.

  Mark grunted. “With Annie in ICU? The hospital computer hacked and the security camera destroyed? No. They didn’t make a mistake.”

  “Masson had to be here under orders. No way would he come on his own for anything that didn’t involve killing Kelly. But it’s a big organization. Assaulting a woman and kidnapping her daughter seems too small a thing for NINA to take on.”

  “I wasn’t asking you if they had expanded, Jeff. I’m telling you they have.”

  Jeff muttered a curse under his breath. “Why did they take her?”

  “Nick’s been digging deep. Most obvious reason would be human trafficking for prostitution.” Just saying it sickened Mark.

  “Sex trafficking isn’t chump change. Drugs, they sell once. People, they sell over and over again.”

  The video clip Mark’s buddy had sent over of the two women fighting stuck in Mark’s mind. The women who survived fought over and over again. What if those were connected to Lisa? Mark hadn’t permitted his thoughts to go there. Now he had no choice.

  Mark’s cell rang. He paused to answer it. “Taylor.”

  “Omega One.” Jane’s former intelligence buddy.

  “Yes?”

  “Check out this URL.” He rambled it off. “Got it?”

  “Yeah.” Mark tensed, stared at Jeff. “Reply?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “Thanks.”

  Mark ended the call, then brought up the Internet and keyed in the URL on a secure laptop Beth Dawson had brought over when she’d warned them off using the hospital’s system until she could run analytics.

  “Need some privacy?” Jeff asked.

  “No, you need to see this.” Mark turned the screen so they could both view the clip.

  A rambunctious crowd cheered, pumping their fists. Two women faced each other in a boxing ring, dressed in evening gowns and high heels: one in red, the other in black. It was an absurd sight. The crowd, too, was dressed in formal attire. This was no cut-rate, low-cost operation. A bell rang. The women locked together, fists flying. They fought and fought hard. By the time the bell rang, they were both bloody. Then came round two and three and four.

  The woman in red cracked the one in black with a right cross that sent her reeling. She staggered back against the ropes. The woman in red lunged, grabbed the other by the throat, and yanked her down to the mat, choking her. The woman on the bottom kicked and flailed, but the other didn’t let go.

  The crowd jumped to its feet, shouting so loudly their words created an indecipherable din. Then they chanted, “Kill. Kill. Kill.”

  And they kept shouting it until the woman in black moved no more.

  A collective hush settled over the crowd. The woman in red checked her opponent’s bloody throat for a pulse. She stood, stared down at the mat, her expression haunted.

  Thunderous applause erupted.

  The woman in red covered her ears, trying to block out the sound.

  The woman in black was dead.

  The clip ended.

  “She killed that woman—and they’re cheering.” Jeff looked from the screen to Mark. “I’ve seen some cold stuff on the force, but this is—”

  “I know. I need a minute.” Mark’s stomach roiled. He touched the screen on the laptop. It went black. He pulled out his phone and conference called the guys. When he had them, he said, “Everyone on secure computers?”

  Everyone reported that they were, and Mark added, “Something you need to see. Here’s the URL.”

  “Got it, bud.”

  “Me too, bro.”

  “Hanging on or reporting back?”

  Tim. “Neither. Just new information to add to the initial.”

  “Connected?” Joe asked.

  “I don’t know, but it’s looking more like it all the time.” His voice husky, Mark ended the call.

  Jeff turned down the static-ridden radio clipped to his hip, then rubbed his neck. “That’s no small-time operation.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  Mark’s cell rang. Expecting it, he stepped away from Jeff, then tapped the computer screen. The film reappeared. Then Mark lifted the phone to his ear. “Taylor.”

  “Omega One.”

  “I’ve seen it.”

  “The woman in black was one of ours—civilian side, undercover.”

  “My sympathy to her family.”

  “Yeah.” Jane’s friend hung up.

  Jeff frowned, his eyes clouded with trouble. “What’s really going on, Mark?”

  He checked for others within earshot and saw none. “That was the second fight video I’ve seen. The first one was fifteen, maybe twenty seconds. When it ended, the women were still fighting. In this one, the woman dressed in black—”

  “Yeah?”

  “She was an FBI agent who had infiltrated the operation.”

  “Why are you getting—?” Jeff suddenly stilled. “This is related to Lisa?”

  There’s no other reason Omega One would have risked sending it to him. “Someone thinks it is, but I have to know. When I got the first video, it was an alert that NINA was active in the area again. I thought they were coming after Kelly Walker.”

  “So you called in your buddies for backup.”

  “Yeah. But now I’m thinking this isn’t about Kelly at all.”

  Empathy flashed across Jeff’s face. “This stuff is way over my head. I don’t have the manpower or the resources to take on NINA. It’s time to pull in some power from outside sources. Maybe you and your friends could do the same.”

  “Joe’s already put in some calls.” Mark tumbled Lisa’s ring inside his pocket, flipping it over, rubbing its smooth, worn surface. “He has more connections than the rest of us put together.”

  “I’ll make some calls too. Highway patrol hasn’t picked up the truck. If we had a tag, maybe.”

  “I know it’s a long shot.” Mark was glad they were beyond the missing person’s requirements, now that they had evidence a crime had been committed and they could call in outsiders to help. But he wasn’t surprised. Jeff was no fool, and he’d gone up against NINA before. Even aided by the FBI, it’d been all they could handle. NINA played hardball—and it played to win. “Did you get that restraining order to keep Dutch out of here?”

  “Yeah. I delivered it to Grant Thurman and dropped off a copy at the administration office on the way up here.”

  “Thanks. Keep me posted.” Mark frowned. “I need to go check on Annie.”

  Jeff set down his cup and stepped away from the station. “I know I’ve already said this, but I am sorry, Mark. If I could change places with either of them, I would.”

  “I know. Me too.” Mark didn’t have to pretend to understand how Jeff felt or act as if he didn’t see the tormented look in the man’s eyes. The nearest mirror would reflect the same look in his own.

  Jeff got a call and left. Mark headed to the elevator, spotted Joe coming upstairs.

  “I hear you’re not eating or sleeping, bro.”

  “After watching that latest video?”

  “Point taken.” Joe glanced down the hall. “However, you’re a risk to the rest of us right now, and I won’t have that. You said you were too involved, so you put me in charge. My responsibility is to the team. For the team, go get some food and then hit the rack for a while.”

  Mark glowered at Joe. “You know what could be happening to her.”

  “I know.” Joe lowered his voice, ste
pped closer. “And I know it scares you out of your skin—as it should. But this isn’t your fault. She’s not Jane.”

  Anger flashed through Mark, hot and furious. He stiffened. “I know that.” He took a few steps, whipped around, and came back. “That agent was killed. Killed, Joe. You think I’m out of control? You’re lucky I’m not at HQ pounding heads.”

  “So are you. Leavenworth isn’t much fun, and you’d be totally worthless to us or Lisa in there.” Joe pointed to an empty room. “Go to Ruby’s. Eat. Sleep. Clear your head. I’ve got it covered, okay?”

  “Okay.” Mark headed toward the elevator. The sag in his shoulders was heavy, familiar. Guilt was a heavy load.

  Ten minutes later, Mark slid into a booth at Ruby’s Diner and ordered eggs and toast and a mug of coffee. In another thirty minutes, the place would be hopping. Ruby’s was just as busy on Saturday as it was on a weekday. For now, only he and two other nonstaffers were inside.

  Outside, dawn cracked the night sky and weak sunlight spilled through. Arrogant of the sun to shine such soft pinks and yellows when everything that most mattered to him was in danger. The sky should be striped with jagged slashes of red.

  Something in his pocket stuck into his thigh. Keys? He reached in and pulled out the little box, then opened it. Lisa’s and his sand dollar.

  Memories assaulted him. The warm breezy night at the beach when she’d first given it to him. Nora had called and insisted he go to the annual singles’ event at church. He’d refused until she mentioned that she had insisted Lisa take a break from studying and go. After she left, Nora was worried Dutch might find out and give her trouble. He seemed to know where Lisa was all the time.

  That’s all it had taken. Mark went. He flipped the shell over in his hand, studied it. Now he was so glad he had. Lisa had looked amazing in the moonlight, her face glowing from the heat of the bonfire. But as he approached, he could see she was wary, watching the crowd, checking back over her shoulder …

  She spotted him, and her wariness disappeared. “Mark. I’m surprised to see you here.”

  He shrugged. “It’s a nice night. Want to go for a walk?”

  “Sure.”

  At the water’s edge, Lisa held on to him, removed her sandals, and let them dangle from her crooked finger. He took his shoes off, and they let the incoming waves curl over their feet.

  They’d walked for miles and talked the entire way. He told her about Jane—something he’d never told anyone outside the team who had lived through it with him.

  “I’m so sorry.” Lisa dropped her sandals, nudged him to drop his. When he did, she laced both their hands. Her eyes were luminous, large and wet with unshed tears. “You loved her.”

  “Yes.” He lightly squeezed her fingers until their palms pressed flat. “She was the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  The wind teased Lisa’s hair, blowing it back from her face. “You weren’t a couple?”

  “No, no.” He lifted a strand caressing Lisa’s cheek, let the backs of his fingertips brush against her skin. So soft. “She was the little sister of my heart.” Did that sound silly? Probably. But it was true.

  “Did she feel that way too?”

  “She did.” He nodded, too emotional to say more.

  Lisa brought their joined hands to her face, held them tightly to her. “I’m so sorry, Mark.”

  “Me too.” He swallowed hard, rebuffed the urge to turn for safer, less charged ground.

  Lisa must have understood. With gentle strokes of her thumb, she soothed his hand, stepped closer, and hugged him.

  Mark’s heart thundered against her ear. She smelled like he imagined heaven would smell: sweet and pure, fresh and clean. Traces of the fire’s scent lingered and mingled with that of the tangy salt water. But they blended and faded, and her scent was the only one noted. Familiar and good, and uniquely Lisa.

  She smoothed the back of his shirt in long arcs that burned his skin beneath the cotton fabric. Caressing that sank deep into his skin and beyond through flesh and muscle until its tenderness touched his heart. He’d never felt such care or comfort in a woman’s hands. Hands that could heal wounds he couldn’t see but carried with him every day of his life.

  “Jane was a lucky woman.” Lisa lifted her chin, sincerity shining in her eyes.

  “I killed her, Lisa.”

  “No, you didn’t.” She pressed a kiss over his heart. “You loved her and you were stuck. Sometimes people we love get into situations where they’re just stuck, Mark.”

  “I wasn’t where I was supposed to be.”

  “For good reason. You were pinned down.” Lisa cupped his face in her hands. “If you’d gone to her, what would have happened?”

  “We’d both have been killed.”

  “And what purpose would have been served in that?”

  “I wouldn’t feel.” He couldn’t say it. Wouldn’t.

  “Guilty?” Lisa studied his face, and compassion burned in her eyes. Finally, he nodded and she went on. “I feel the same way about my mother. But I know I can’t be all and do all; I’m human and I have limitations. So do you.”

  “I should have tried.”

  “You’d be dead.” Lisa hugged him hard, as if trying to take his pain into her and relieve him of it. “You couldn’t die then because if you had, you wouldn’t be here now.” She pulled back, picked up a sand dollar, dusted the sand from it with her fingertips, and then passed it to him. “Whenever you think about this, I want you to think about me holding this shell. When I do, it’ll be because I’m scared or worried.”

  “I don’t want to think about you being scared or worried, Lisa.”

  “I wasn’t finished.” She tapped his chin. “Think about me holding this and it reminding me that you’re here, and because you are, I’m not so scared. I’m not so worried. I’m not alone—and neither are you.”

  It was more than he dared to dream he’d receive from her. Far more. “You’ll be there for me?” He tried but failed to keep his surprise out of his voice.

  “Yes.” She sounded as breathless as he felt.

  He wanted to kiss her. Needed to kiss her, and she looked as if she wanted to be kissed, but— He hesitated, weighing the costs. He didn’t dare.

  The moment was gone.

  She bent down and lifted her sandals. He got his shoes and they walked on.

  Two steps, and Lisa reached over and clasped their pinkie fingers.

  He looked at their joined hands and smiled. “This is new.”

  She smiled over at him, a little bittersweet. “It’s special.”

  “Meaning just for me?” he asked, then kicked himself for it.

  “You and my mother.” Her voice softened even more. “From the time I was little, it was our way of saying we were there for each other.”

  Touched, he stopped and stroked her face. “I’m here for you, Lisa. I’ll always be here for you.”

  “Hey, Mark, are you okay?”

  Startled, Mark jerked himself from the memory and looked into Megan’s questioning eyes. “What?”

  Smacking her chewing gum, she tilted her head. A riot of red curls sprang out in all directions. She was about Mel’s age, but they were nothing alike. Megan thrived on gossip. “I said do you want a refill on your coffee?” She motioned with the pot.

  “Um, no. Just the bill.”

  She fished it out of her pocket and pressed it down on the table. “I was real sorry to hear about Annie and Lisa. How are they doing?”

  “No news.”

  Megan nodded, frowning. “Keep us posted. Everyone’s waiting for word.”

  “I will.” Mark paid the bill and covered the tip, then slid out of the booth. On his way to the door, he dropped the sand dollar back into its box, then pocketed it. When had the place filled up?

  He nodded to those he recognized, then left Ruby’s and headed back to the hospital.

  Back on the second floor, he spotted Joe in the hallway. “I’m fine,” he said before Joe could
ask.

  Joe dipped his chin and glared at him. “You’re not resting.”

  “I need to check on Annie first, then I will.” Mark stepped around the edge of the station desk, dumped some trash from the car into the can, and then headed for the big wooden doors to the unit.

  Rose stood inside the hub with one hand on the emergency buzzer. When she saw Mark, she relaxed and went back to entering something in her computer.

  Glad to see her on her toes, Mark glanced over. Sam stood beside Annie’s bed, his cap low over his eyes, his back to the wall. Annie lay still on the narrow bed. Battered and hooked up to machines with tubes and wires everywhere, she seemed so small and frail. What kind of man could justify hurting a woman like that?

  Pity and rage warred in Mark, and he had to get his emotions under control. They didn’t go down easy, but when he sealed them up, he walked over to her bedside.

  “No change.” Sam kept his voice just above a whisper.

  “Take a break and get some breakfast. I’ll stay until you get back.”

  “Any word yet on Lisa?”

  Mark shook his head. “None I care to repeat.”

  “Think steel, bud. She’s tough and smart. She’ll help us find her. Joe’s working the phones, calling everyone short of the president. If there’s info to be had, we’ll get it.”

  Sam meant well. Thinking steel was good advice. Getting emotional during crises led to mistakes. Mistakes led to deaths. But this was about Lisa, the woman who held his heart. And he wasn’t sure he’d want to be the kind of man who under these circumstances could follow that advice anyway. But he kept those thoughts to himself. “Thanks, Sam.”

  “You bet, bud. Back in fifteen.” He clapped Mark’s shoulder and then left the unit.

  Mark studied Annie, praying Sam was right and they’d get a break. He pulled Lisa’s ring out of his pocket. “I’ve got your ring, Annie. Lisa left it for me to find. She’s smart, you know. Sam’s right. She will find a way to help us locate her.”

  As he searched her pasty, still face, a fresh wave of regret washed over him. It seeped deep inside and soaked his bones. Lisa’s voice sounded in his mind. “My mama says a lady never attends a social gatherin’ without a proper manicure.”