The Steele Collection Books 1-3: Sarah Steele Legal Thrillers

by Aaron Patterson

  The doors finally opened and I fell out, sucking air. No way was I ever getting on an elevator again with a protein-munching guy in bike shorts. Too risky.

  Regaining my composure, I walked toward Eddie’s room. A pretty blonde girl with jet-black eyes was coming down the hall and for a second I imagined her to be one of the gang. That was a weird thought. Perhaps it was because her dress and boots were a designer label and looked right off the shelf. Or maybe I just had an overactive imagination.

  She avoided eye contact as we passed. I turned left down a short hall and knocked on Eddie’s door. A minute later, the door opened. Eddie Lofton greeted me and smiled, even though his eyes were groggy and he looked like he was still in the clothes we left him in last night.

  “Sarah.”

  “Can I come in?”

  He nodded and I stepped forward, wishing I could make this all go away and that Mr. and Mrs. Lofton could go on to fix their marriage and live their lives together.

  Something ground under my heel and I looked down. A gold chain glinted in the carpet. I picked up the necklace and examined it.

  Eddie snatched it from my hands. “This is hers … this is Tanya’s necklace. She was wearing it when she was taken.” He looked at me and blinked as if trying to figure out how it came to be in my hand. He had an unmistakable air of distrust about him. “Where did you get it?”

  “I stepped on it. It was on the floor—”

  It must have been the girl I passed in the hallway. She left it!

  I turned and ran down the short hall and toward the elevators. The doors were just closing and I glimpsed the blonde girl standing inside. Reeling to a halt, I punched the down button, but I knew I was too late. And by the time another elevator came, she would be long gone.

  I took the stairs two at a time and crashed through the first-floor door. I knew it was her—my gut told me. She’d come to give it back, but why?

  The lobby was filled with people—new people checking in and guests checking out. The agents were still in the chairs. They’d let her pass right by. That was okay—I wanted to handle it myself.

  I scanned the crowd as I ran, but didn’t see her. I headed straight for the front door.

  Pushing past a bellhop, who yelled after me—sweet words, I’m sure—I stopped and turned, looking for the small girl in the crowd. Heat slammed into me and my lungs burned.

  There, past the palm tree. I saw her shiny hair glint in the sun. I ran toward her and she looked over her shoulder. This time she made eye contact—and then she ran.

  THE GIRL TURNED DOWN an alley, and I started to panic. I would lose her—the only lead, one of the actual gang members—because she was faster than me. It was the stairs. They’d done me in. I promised myself I’d start working on the StairMaster when I got back home.

  Gasping for air, I pushed down the pain forming in my left lung. Giving up was not in me, at least not yet. I’d track her urban-style if I had to. I was on the hunt now. I rounded the corner and saw that it was a dead-end alley. My hopes soared.

  The blonde girl had a lock-pick set out. She was trying to pick a locked metal door. When she saw me, she dropped the tools and put her fists up. She backed up to a brick wall.

  “Hey, just calm down. I want to talk—I won’t hurt you.” My breath came in gasps, which I tried to hide by evening out my breathing. I positioned myself between the wall and a large Dumpster. In order to get past me, she would have to squeeze by me. I could grab her if I needed to.

  The girl was sweating, and she shifted from foot to foot. She ran her hands through her damp hair and we stared at each other like two cats trying to size the other up.

  “Look, I just need to know why you brought the necklace back. I’m his friend and I need some answers.”

  She shook her head. Her fists were still in position, and I noticed she had good form. I expected her to attack me, maybe lash out or pull a knife. My hand went into my purse and my fingers wrapped around a keychain can of mace spray. But she didn’t move. Instead, she bit her lower lip.

  I relaxed my stance and softened my eyes. “Do you speak English?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you bring the necklace back?”

  She nodded.

  “Why?”

  She paused, and that’s when I saw her regret behind the mask she wore. “She deserved better. Never should’ve got shot.”

  “Who shot her?”

  “Not me—I just snag and grab. Thought it would always be that way. Things are changing. I just wanted him to have it back … Tell him I’m sorry.”

  “I can help get you out.” I took a step forward, and she launched to one side and bolted past me. I grabbed for her shoulder and got her purse strap. In a split second, I made a decision. It’d be easier to secure a bag than a human, so I decided to keep holding the purse at the risk of losing her. She punched at my stomach, but I easily dodged and tightened my hold on her purse. Twisting free of it, she ran down the alley.

  She rounded the corner. I stood holding her small handbag, wondering if I should chase after her.

  I didn’t think she would tell me any more, but it would have been good to bring her in and let Solomon question her. By that time I decided it was too late. And I was tired.

  The high sun made heat waves on the concrete. I looked after her. What had she gotten herself into?

  EDDIE LOFTON SAT ON the edge of his bed and stared at his hands. The golden pendant dangled from his fingers.

  Mandy was on her way up. I told her I’d fill her in once she got here. I dialed Solomon and he picked up after the first ring.

  “Hey, what’s up?”

  “You should come to Mr. Lofton’s hotel right away.”

  Solomon sighed. “Sarah, I told you to let me handle this. What did you do?”

  “It’s not my fault. Right place, right time. Besides, this is a lead, and you need all the leads you can get.”

  “You are a magnet for problems, aren’t you?” I picked up a hint of teasing in his voice.

  “Just get over here.”

  “Okay. Try to stay out of trouble till I get there.”

  “No promises.” I hung up and there was a knock at the door. I let Mandy in, and she looked me up and down and snorted.

  “Wow, what did you do to yourself?”

  Looking in the mirror, I saw that my hair was a frizz fest, and it was clear that I had been sweating up a storm. “Went for a run. I have something to show you.”

  She peered into the bedroom. “How’s he doing?”

  “I think he’s in shock. He should get home to America as soon as he can.”

  Mandy plopped down on the sofa. She looked and sounded nonchalant, but I could tell this meant something to her by the way she cased the joint when she walked in.

  I filled her in. “I was going for a walk, sipping my espresso, waiting for this annoying so-called best friend, when I decided to stop in and see how Eddie was doing.”

  “Annoying and smokin’-hot best friend.”

  “Sure, whatever. On the way up, I passed this blonde girl in the hall.”

  “Uh-oh, I see where this is going.” Mandy’s eyes went sharp as she thought. “Why would one of them return?”

  “An attack of conscience.” When I said it, it brought me some hope. If one of them had the fear of God eating away at them, the chances of finding them were much greater than if they’d all been going in the same direction.

  “So she ran, I chased, and got this.” I held up the purse.

  “Hers?” Mandy said.

  “No, I snatched it from some stranger,” I scoffed. “Of course it’s hers. Here, wear these.” I handed her some latex gloves. I put mine on and laughed at the moronic look she was giving me. “What? I borrowed them from the house-cleaning cart.”

  Once we had our gloves on, I dumped the contents of the purse on the small desk. The purse was a small cream deal with a flower on one side. It looked like Coach and Mandy confirmed it by whistling.
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  “Dang, this is a spendy bag. It could be a knockoff, but I doubt it. Was she dressed in designer clothing?”

  “Yes. She looked like any other tourist. Not overdone. She blended in.”

  “Guess she would if she was smart. So, what do we have here? Makeup, high end. Little mirror. Travel Kleenexes. Two tampons. The usual girl stuff.”

  I flipped open a wallet and found a pre-paid Visa card, but no ID. “She sure is careful. Cell phone is prepaid, and so is the debit card. Guess we could find out who they’re registered to. No ID, nothing to lead back to her.”

  Mandy dug through a small notebook and a receipt fell out. I picked it up and looked at the address, and then I pulled out my cell and took a picture of the receipt and the contents of the purse.

  “So does this mean we can go shopping now?” Mandy waved the card in the air. “It seems I suddenly came into some money.”

  “It’d serve them right, but no. This has to go to Solomon.”

  “Wow, you’re no fun at all.”

  VITORIA KNEW THE MURDER had rattled the girls. They’d had no idea it was coming and it would take some work to get them to see her side. But she lived by the adage, “It’s easier to apologize than ask for permission.”

  They ate the takeout Emilia had picked up. Everyone ate silently, giving Vitoria furtive glances.

  In the gentlest voice she had, Vitoria began. “I started this so we could have a future, not live in the muck of the slums like a bunch of second-rate degenerates. I dragged you out of the trash and now look at you—wearing Prada and sipping drinks more expensive than your papai’s weekly salary.” She needed to appeal to their past. “Mia—you’d never have left your pimp if not for me. Lili—you were bored out of your mind at that girls school. And Emilia—“ Her voice lowered. “Your boyfriend would still be using you as a punching bag every night if you hadn’t escaped. We have a good thing here … a good family. Don’t let it go.”

  Their eyes had softened at her words, at the memories she’d invoked.

  Mia, her right-hand girl, spoke up first. One word. “Why?”

  Vitoria spoke quickly. “Money. Why else? That’s why I’ve been taking trips to America. By doing this one simple job today, we made twice as much money as we have the whole time we’ve been working. Take a few of these jobs and we can get out of here. Live the high life in New York or New Orleans—”

  “Or Las Vegas, baby,” Lili interrupted. She really had no clue what was going on.

  “But this is on you. I need you all behind me. I’m not messing around anymore. You have to start taking this seriously.”

  “We do, Vit, but I never wanted this,” Emilia said. Out of them all, Vitoria expected the most trouble from goody-two-shoes Emilia. She was a softie.

  “Things are different now.” How was Vitoria supposed to tell them this little operation was not what they thought it was, that she only gave them one-fifth of all the money she made, and she was working for some very powerful people? There was some hardcore pressure involved. If they didn’t keep their word, they’d have more than cops after their tail.

  She softened her tone. “We were kids when we started. We aren’t kids anymore—time we acted like it.”

  Mia stood up and stretched. “As long as you keep splitting it up even, I’ll always have your back.” She walked over and gripped Vitoria by the shoulder. Everyone tensed. “But if you ever pull one on us like this again, I’m out.”

  Vitoria nodded, staring her down until she let go.

  Emilia crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Vitoria.

  “Got something to say?” Vitoria asked.

  “Yeah. This started as a team—all of us in as equals, and we were supposed to talk about everything. Who made you the leader?”

  Vitoria managed to keep her cool, even though this little brat had no idea how much went into making things work. “You think you can do better? Fine, you pick the marks. You work out a price with the buyers and make sure we don’t get ripped off. Be my guest.”

  Emilia looked up at Mia and then back to Vitoria. “I wasn’t saying that—just that we should all be in the loop.”

  “No, you were saying that. If you don’t trust me, then go. No one will stop you. But if you want to step up, I suggest you keep your trap shut.”

  Vitoria turned and walked out the back door and into the night. Her face felt hot, and her hands were shaking. Who did Emilia think she was to challenge her like that? If anyone was the weakest team member, it was Emilia. She didn’t know half of it, and Vitoria would keep it that way. As Avó told her, “Never tell all or you’ll be stuck with nothing.”

  Closing her eyes, she let a deep breath fill her lungs, then let it out on a ten count. The back of the warehouse was overgrown with weeds and vines. A few yards past a rusted-out VW bus was a small outhouse, or what used to be one.

  Vitoria pulled her new Glock .45 from her shoulder holster and checked the chamber. After taking the lock off the van door, she opened it. The hinges screamed in protest.

  It was dark, but the moon was full so she could clearly see the two women inside. They were tied and gagged, a mother-daughter duo. The two wriggled and moaned when they saw the door open, but it wouldn’t do them any good. They were dead already—they just didn’t know it.

  WE WERE ON OUR way to go surfing. I pulled a knit dress up over my hips and used it to cover my bikini. Stepping into sandals, I was once again waiting on Mandy.

  “Are you taking another hour to get ready just to end up wet and salty?”

  “Now that sounds like a good time. But no, I’m just about done.”

  Clicking on the TV, I found a local station and read the subtitles. A storm was coming the day after tomorrow, but today would have perfect weather.

  “Have any news on my dragon bracelet?”

  “I swept the room again, but didn’t find it. The next thing to do is search the bellhop’s locker. Although she probably wouldn’t be stupid enough to keep it there—who knows.” I was teasing Mandy, but she thought I was serious. I wouldn’t search some poor maid’s locker because my best friend lost her bracelet.

  “You should do that now.”

  “I should do that after we surf. Come on. We’ll be late.”

  Mandy shut off the bathroom light and stood in all her bikini-clad glory. She never bothered with swimsuit cover-ups. She said that if people saw it on the beach, they could see it on the way to the beach.

  I said something that had been bothering me since the talk with Solomon. “Do you think he just didn’t tell me to keep me safe?”

  Mandy knew exactly which he I was referring to. “Of course. Solomon’s with the FBI, for goodness’ sake. So I’m sure he wants you out of harm’s way.”

  “I’m not a damsel in distress.”

  “I know. But take it as a compliment. Relationships are really hard for agents. Haven’t you seen James Bond? Even starting a relationship means he really likes you.”

  I crinkled my nose. “Well, this is much deeper now. This isn’t about me or him—it’s about justice. The Blondes have murdered two people so far, and who knows how many more will die if someone doesn’t stop them.”

  “I know, Sarah, but this isn’t your job. You’re not a detective or a cop.”

  I just wanted to know why they started killing their victims. Was someone forcing these women to kill?

  My train of thought broke when Mandy motioned toward the TV. A reporter stood in front of a small rundown house. In the background, police and emergency workers milled about.

  Mandy sat heavily on the bed and turned up the volume. Even though we couldn’t understand the language, we read the subtitles. “They found two more bodies. A mother and daughter…”

  I looked at Mandy and my skin tingled. “They were found in the same area of the slums where Mrs. Lofton was discovered. That could be their home base.”

  “Looks that way. That’s four deaths. So now what?”

  “We go surfing an
d then we follow up with the receipt I got from the girl’s purse. Oh, and we try not to get kidnapped by the Blondes.”

  “HERE IT COMES—THIS time I’m staying up.” Mandy was next to me on a hot-pink surfboard. We took the hour lesson and then decided to go at it alone; the young instructor seemed to know less than we did about surfing. The next wave was huge, so I readied the underwater camera Mandy had bought and clicked a picture just as she stood on the board. A second later, her foot slipped and she went face-first into the wave. Gasping for air, she scrambled back on her board and asked me eagerly, “Did you get it?”

  “You mean, did I get you standing on the board for that split second?”

  “Yes.”

  I chuckled. “Yes, I got it. Rick will be so impressed.”

  Another wave was coming. I tied the camera to my wrist and readied myself for the hit.

  Mandy called to me over the sound of the surf. “I’m gonna beat you this time.”

  “Sure, when manta rays fly. I’ll try not to show you up too bad.” I hadn’t known what to expect when we first started, but I was blown away by how much I liked surfing.

  “I can’t help it if I’m better suited for a Harley than standing on a stupid board,” she said.

  The weather report showed that the big storm would hit late tomorrow morning, which meant the waves all day today and early tomorrow would be killer. The water was peppered with surfers, but I felt like we were the only tourists. After the news hit about the murders, there was a rush at the airports. Basically, all the rich foreigners were leaving. The resort and the entire coastline looked like it was in the middle of winter instead of the height of tourist season. This would hurt the whole town.