“Jose, stand up.”
Jose quickly climbs to his feet.
Hayward pats the boy once on the head, then smiles at me.
“You see, when he first arrived at Neverland, Jose was a very defiant boy. He refused to listen to us, even with his collar. Typically the children we have here learn to follow directions in a short amount of time, but not Jose. He was quite a stubborn boy. But everybody has a breaking point.”
“What do you do with the children?”
Hayward regards me for a long time, thinking how he wants to answer, before he sighs.
“I give them purpose, Ms. Lin. These children come from terrible places. In most instances, their mothers are searching for safety. We promise them that—we promise that safety—and then we use them whatever way we see fit. And no, before you jump to conclusions, we don’t sell their children off as sex slaves.”
He pauses, and grins.
“Well, most of them we don’t. What happens to the children once they leave here is no business of ours after a transaction has been completed. Most of these children end up in homes where they are used merely as indentured servants. They clean. They cook. Most of them have become so conditioned to do what they’re told that they no longer need the collars, but we always provide collars with each bill of sale. After all, we will sometimes have children like Jose here who are so defiant that they eventually build confidence again. It’s important for us to make certain once that confidence is stripped away it never returns.”
Hayward gestures at the field.
“Now, Ms. Lin, one of the smaller bottles. This time, Jose’s pain won’t stop until you accomplish your mission.”
Jose yelps again as he drops to the ground, and I immediately turn back to the rifle.
Peer through the scope, my finger on the trigger.
But I can’t focus. I don’t want to prematurely fire off a round and miss the target because that will keep Jose’s pain going, but I don’t want to wait too long either.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Breathe in, breathe out.
I squeeze the trigger. Watch the small soda bottle explode down at the other end of the field.
“There! I did it!”
I lean back, start to stand, but the freelancers each take a step forward, their pistols aimed at my head.
Jose keeps writhing on the ground. Hayward takes the binoculars from Louis, stares through them for a beat, then lowers them.
“Yes, it appears you did.”
Jose keeps writhing.
I shout, “Turn off the collar!”
Hayward’s face tilts toward me, and his eyes narrow.
“Do not tell me what to do, Ms. Lin.”
I prepare myself for another zap—from the corner of my eye I can see Louis’s thumb on the fob—but before another spike of lightning hits, Carla appears by one of the buildings. She hurries toward us.
Hayward turns away, and as soon as he does, Jose’s minder lowers the fob. Jose goes still. He’s crying now, sobbing into the ground, and I want to go to him, to somehow ease his pain, but the freelancers keep their Berettas aimed at me even though the rifle sits on the table untouched.
When Carla joins us, Hayward asks, “What’s wrong?”
“His schedule has changed. He’ll be there tomorrow.”
“What?”
Hayward’s voice echoes across the field. His hands squeeze into fists. I’m worried that he’ll take his anger out on Jose again—maybe rip the fob from the minder, zap the boy himself—but then he steps toward Carla.
“There must be some mistake.”
Carla shakes her head.
“I just received the call. It’s tomorrow.”
Hayward turns to Louis, his jaw tight.
“What are our options?”
Louis chews his bottom lip, thinking it over.
“It’s fourteen hours away, depending on traffic. If we leave now, we can make it there by midnight and get everything set up. It’ll be tight but doable.”
Hayward thinks it over for a moment.
“Do it. Tie her up and put her in the trunk.”
Louis motions at the freelancers. One of them stays where he is, his pistol aimed at my head, while the others move forward to collect the rifle and box of ammunition.
Hayward turns to me, a forced smile on his face.
“It appears we don’t have much time together after all. What a shame, because I’m told the lobster tail is being delivered later today.”
He steps closers, reaches out to tap the collar around my neck.
“This will be staying on you. Louis will have the trigger. Your family is depending on your compliance. Do you understand me, Ms. Lin?”
Suddenly feeling empty, I nod.
Hayward glances at Carla before clearing his throat.
“Now that you’ll be leaving here shortly, I suppose I might as well tell you your target. I believe you knew his son. You killed him last year, as a matter of fact.”
Hayward grins as he sees the understanding cross my face.
“That’s right, Ms. Lin. You’ll be assassinating Alejandro Cortez’s father. The President of Mexico.”
Thirty-One
Tina Davis didn’t know how long she’d been unhappy with her life, but in the past several weeks that unhappiness had morphed into loathing, and every day that passed—every day where she woke to Ryan’s alarm or one of the boys’ voices out in the hallway—she hated her life more and more.
It wasn’t always like this, of course. She’d been happy once. And she knew it had nothing to do with her sister disappearing—almost a year ago now, come to think of it—or Ryan being laid off from his six-figure job about a month after Holly left.
But it had started sometime after that, in the limbo period where Ryan searched nonstop for a job until he finally found one—only a couple months ago, a job that paid considerably less, but at least it had decent benefits, so there was that—and the unhappiness had started to settle in, and even though things were beginning to look up—or at the very least weren’t looking as dire—Tina just couldn’t shake the unhappiness, no matter how much she tried, until it started to snowball into that loathing and then, finally, hatred.
It wasn’t like she was suicidal. Tina didn’t want to end her life; she simply hated it. The way you hate that one coworker who constantly gets on your nerves, just small stuff at first until that stuff is all you think about, and the more you think about it, the more you wonder how anybody could put up with the person until the day finally comes when you realize what had started out as simple dislike has turned into hate.
“Mom? What time is Mrs. Holbrook picking us up?”
Tina blinked. Realized she was standing at the sink, the faucet running. Lost again in her thoughts.
Matthew tried again, his tone this time hesitant.
“Mom?”
She shut off the water and turned around. Smiled down at her two sons at the kitchen table.
They had their tablets open, propped on the table in front of them. It was the only time of day they were allowed to have their tablets at the table. At dinner it was No Tablet Time. Tina had even printed up signs with a tablet in a red circle and a slash across it, like the Ghostbusters logo. It hung on the fridge, a helpful reminder, though one time Matthew tore it down when he got detention at school and they’d taken away his tablet as a punishment.
Both boys were watching her now, worried, their plates of pancakes half-eaten. For one crazy moment, Tina considered telling them she hated her life—she even started to open her mouth—and that was when Ryan tore into the kitchen like a tornado.
“Sorry, in a rush.”
His tie was draped around his neck, the first two buttons of his dress shirt open. He carried his briefcase in one hand, his cell phone in the other, and he ignored the plate she’d prepared for him as he hurried past, kissing each boy on the head, and pecked her on the cheek before pivoting away and heading for the side door.
“See you when I get home.”
He didn’t wait for a response, disappearing outside, and Tina was left feeling like she’d missed something, though in truth Ryan had been doing this more and more lately, staying up late because he couldn’t sleep and then getting up at the last minute and rushing out of the house.
Tina knew she couldn’t blame him—the new job was running him ragged—but still she wondered how this would affect the boys later in life, whether or not they would understand and respect their father or resent him.
Matthew said, “Mom?”
She blinked again. Shifted her focus down to her son.
“Yes?”
“What time is Mrs. Holbrook picking us up?”
Stacey Holbrook, a longtime family friend, had volunteered to take the boys to the zoo today, along with her son Kyle. Stacey invited Tina along too, but Tina had declined, making up some excuse why she couldn’t go—right now the reason evaded her—because she worried Stacey would sense Tina’s depression, and she didn’t want her friend to worry about her.
Tina glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. It was almost eight thirty.
“She should be here any minute.”
That was when her phone pinged on the counter, a text message from Stacey saying she’s just pulled into the driveway.
“Apparently she’s already here.”
The boys jumped to their feet, grabbing the tablets before they made a break for the door.
Tina said, “Tablets stay here.”
Max’s eyes grew wide like saucers.
“But, Mom!”
She tilted her chin down, gave him the look that said, Do you really wanna try me?
Max crinkled his nose but didn’t say anything, simply set his tablet aside, as did Matthew, and they called out goodbye as they tore off toward the door, Tina following them, stepping out to wave at Stacey as the boys loaded into her minivan, and soon the van disappeared down the street and Tina stepped back inside, closing the door and taking a deep breath.
She cleaned up the kitchen and headed upstairs to take a shower. Today was Monday, aka Laundry Day, but the laundry could wait. As soon as she was dressed, she headed back down the steps, grabbed her purse and keys, and headed outside.
Her Nissan was parked in the driveway, dusty in the morning sun. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten it washed. If and when they needed some extra cash—and that time was coming very soon, no doubt about it—her car would probably be the first thing to go. Though, Tina had to admit with a pang of disappointment, she didn’t expect them to get much for it. Maybe two thousand dollars if they were lucky.
As she backed into the street, her mind was so focused on how much she hated her life that she didn’t notice the car parked at the end of the block and how it pulled away from the curb to follow her.
Thirty-Two
Twenty-four hours earlier Nova Bartkowski was out in the middle of nowhere, in a cabin nestled in the woods, thinking about fly-fishing.
He had never been big into fishing before, but there was something about fly-fishing that was soothing. Standing in a bubbling stream with the woods quiet around you, whipping the line back and forth, watching and waiting for a fish to strike mellowed him out, calmed him down, and made him appreciate life in a way he never did before.
Of course, that was twenty-four hours ago, and things had moved fast after he received Atticus’s call. Now he was back in D.C. and following Holly’s sister down the highway. He made sure to keep far enough back that she wouldn’t notice, but also far enough back that whoever was tracking her wouldn’t notice either.
So far, he hadn’t spotted a tail, and that worried him.
They each had disposable cell phones, and each phone was logged into Signal, an encrypted communications app. They were in a group text, Nova and James and Erik and Atticus, so that way each knew each other’s movements. They had comms gear too, and could easily communicate via voice, but as James couldn’t talk, it was easier to shoot off a quick text.
Nova’s text not too long ago: Sister left the house. Following now. Don’t see a tail.
James responded: Mother still home.
Erik: Boys arrived @ zoo with what looks like friend & friend’s mother. Should I follow them in?
Nova thought about it. The zoo would be packed as it was the summer, and it was a public place, so he doubted the boys would be taken. But he figured if Holly’s family was in fact under surveillance and their lives were at risk, her nephews were prime targets. As was her sister. And mother. Not so much her brother-in-law. That was why they hadn’t bothered to follow him to work. It was a risk, and one Nova didn’t think they had any choice but to make.
He texted back: Yes. Keep us updated.
Ten minutes later, Holly’s sister exited the highway. Nova followed her up the ramp and turned right at the stop sign.
He kept checking the rearview mirror, hoping to spot somebody following, but so far nothing stood out. Which again didn’t make sense. Unless Holly’s family wasn’t under surveillance. Which meant that son of a bitch had been lying to them this entire time.
Soon it was clear where Holly’s sister was headed. Nova sent James a direct message through Signal: Sister headed your way.
It was a quiet residential area. The kind with large trees and sidewalks and a blue mailbox posted at the end of the one block.
Nova paused at the stop sign and watched Tina as she parked along the curb in front of Holly’s mom’s house. He circled the block and then came up from the south and parked behind James.
He stepped out of the car and scanned the quiet street. It was the kind of street that made random vehicles conspicuous. People knew what their neighbors drove, what their family and friends drove. A new vehicle might go unnoticed for a couple hours, maybe a day, but not much longer. So it wasn’t the kind of place a panel van could sit all day and night. Which meant whoever was watching Holly’s mom—assuming that was even the case—was doing it by other means.
Nova slid into the passenger seat and glanced at James behind the steering wheel.
“Should have brought you some coffee and donuts. My bad.”
James shrugged.
Nova tilted his chin at Holly’s mom’s house.
“Nothing, huh?”
James shook his head.
Nova said, “I’m starting to think this is a waste of time.”
James merely looked at him.
“You don’t think so?”
Another shrug.
Nova said, “I’m telling you right now, if that kid lied to us I’m going to fucking kill him.”
James picked up his phone and typed something on the screen. Nova’s phone vibrated with an incoming direct message.
I think he’s telling the truth.
“How can you be so sure? I haven’t seen a tail. Have you seen a tail?”
James tapped on his phone.
How long would you advise I stay parked here? Not too long before I’ll be noticed.
“Yeah, okay, I get the point. None of these are prime stakeout places. That’s why I’m starting to think this whole thing is bullshit.”
James shook his head as he typed out another message.
This is old school surveillance. There are other means.
“Like what?”
James seemed to carefully consider his response before tapping on the phone again.
I need to pick up some equipment. Can you wait here until I get back?
Nova didn’t know James well, but he knew the man took his work seriously and there was no use questioning him. He nodded and stepped out of the car and got back into his own car as James pulled away.
Thirty-Three
Her mother stepped away from the coffee brewer and returned to the kitchen table, carrying two mugs.
Tina said, “I could have helped you with that.”
Her mother set down the mugs and waved a dismissive hand as she sat across from her.
/> “I may be old, but I’m not completely useless yet.”
Her mother blew at the top of the mug as she studied her daughter. Tina stared down at her own coffee.
“How’s Ryan?”
Tina shrugged.
“He’s okay. Working a lot.”
“What about the boys?”
“They’re good. Stacey Holbrook took them to the zoo today.”
“I haven’t seen them in a couple weeks.”
Tina nodded slowly, still not looking at her mother.
“I know. It’s just been … hard lately.”
For the six months Ryan was unemployed, they’d had no choice but to dip into their savings, into the boys’ college fund, and right now they were living paycheck to paycheck.
This, Tina knew, was where her hatred of life began.
Ever since the boys were born she had stayed at home; Ryan made more than enough that they were quite comfortable, and she used the extra time to work on her art. Her paintings, she knew, were good but not great, and it was during those months after Ryan was laid off—her husband not leaving for work in the morning as he usually did, but instead sitting at the dining room table and emailing his resume to firm after firm, calling old classmates who might know somebody who might know somebody—Tina realized she’d been fooling herself.
She fancied herself an artist, had once envisioned her work being displayed in an art gallery in New York, one of those ritzy places that would have an opening where they’d pop champagne and everybody would clap, and while she had never shared this dream with Ryan, he knew how much she loved to paint and had always encouraged her. And for a while it had been fine—again, they were quite comfortable—but now their savings were practically gone and she realized she needed to step up and find a job herself.
Only she had no idea what she could do. She’d been out of the workforce for almost twelve years. The gap in her resume would send up red flags at HR departments. And even assuming she did get called in for an interview, she worried she would say or do the wrong thing and embarrass herself.
Holly Lin Box Set | Books 1-3 Page 61
