Grab (10 page)

The helplessness didn’t allay her fear.

Her stomach was a pit of knots she had no hope of untangling. Not knowing what this guy wanted, and assuming the worst, her mind was in overdrive. The words he’d spoken during the drive had been weird, to say the least, like he was trying to be accommodating.

“We’re almost there, Sweetie. Almost home…”

Almost where?
The truck smelled like stale fast food and tobacco smoke. In fact, he was smoking now; she could feel it coating her skin as she turned her face toward where he had a window cracked, desperate for the cool wind to cleanse her. The wind was a symbol of outside. Freedom. If she could connect with the wind, she could get free. Maybe a second wind would help her get out of this mess.

Her mind was playing tricks on her, telling her wind would help.

She’d given up fighting, her muscles exhausted from the strain of trying to get out of this latest round of duct tape, her shoulders in pain from her arms being pinned behind her back. When the truck stopped, he came around to her side and lifted her easily out of the backseat and carried her inside.

Dropping her on a bed, he muttered, “Sorry, Mia,” before working on her bindings. She heard the snick of a knife and then her arms were free but numb. Gently, he brought one hand up above her head and tied it with coarse rope to the bedpost, then the other. At this point, while Mia wanted to fight, she couldn’t. Jordan hadn’t come, and now she didn’t see how he could. They’d switched cars, and the man wouldn’t have done that if Jordan had been on his tail. She was lost to him and stuck with the insanity of her situation.

When the guy removed her blindfold, Mia blinked against the light in the room. It was dingy but clean. Tar-yellowed walls from years of cigarettes, a pock-marked wood floor that had at one point been painted white, garage sale furniture—it was clean, but not comfortable to Mia. She laid on a full-size bed with a brass headboard, one of those cheap, discount store jobbies. Her hopes soared. Once she’d rested a bit and her shoulders had recovered, she might be able to break it. But he had to be gone while she tried because it would make a ruckus.

He eased himself down into a platform rocker with green plaid covering. The chair squelched in protest. Rocking back and forth slowly, his eyes never left hers, each rock of the chair, a new, persistent squeal.

“Comfortable?”

Was he kidding? She was tied to a bed in some freak’s house. She’d been grabbed from her apartment and brought here, completely against her will, with no hope of escaping.

Mia sniffed back tears. No matter how hopeless this seemed, she wouldn’t let him see how upset she was.

“What’s your name?” She wasn’t about to answer his inane question. Maybe some information would help her because she couldn’t think of anything else that would at this point. He had proven he was stronger than she was. Her only recourse at this point was to stay calm and gather intel. Jesus. She sounded like Jordan.

Jordan. His face the moment he saw her being thrust into the van came back to her, completely unbidden, and hope surfaced. He wouldn’t stop until he found her. She knew it. They hadn’t had sex. They didn’t have a relationship. But they were friends, and Mia had figured out he was fiercely loyal to his friends. That was one of the things she loved about him.

“Mike,” the man interrupted her thoughts, jarring her back to her new harsh reality.

“Mike.” She tried his name on her tongue and discovered it tasted foul. “Why am I here, Mike?” she asked tentatively, almost afraid of the answer, while her hands twisted against her restraints. She was just testing them, not trying to get out, yet. But they were tight, each fiber of the rough strands digging into her sensitized flesh.

“Because I need you, Mia. I’m really hoping you work better than the others did.”

She swallowed hard past the bile suddenly choking her. Fear tasted bad. “Others?”
What did that mean?
Panic made adrenalin course through her veins, but she couldn’t do anything but tug on the ropes tied tight around her wrists.

Mike’s mouth flattened to a thin line that slashed across his face as he rose. “Do you need anything? Are you thirsty? Want some water?” He crossed into another room, where she heard a fridge door open with a sucking sound. When he returned, he held a bottle of water, condensation dripping down the edges.

Mia realized how parched her throat was, so she nodded, hoping the water wasn’t drugged. If it was, would she even know?

She suddenly hoped Mike would kill her easily. She didn’t want to hurt. Drugs would be good. Then she could just go to sleep. Ignorance would be bliss.

For some reason, Simon was pissed when he heard the new development in Misty’s case. He slammed his weights down and sat up on the bench, leaving Ryan behind him in spotter position with a ‘what the fuck’ look on his face.

“Your neighbor? You sure it’s the same guy who took Misty?” Running his hand through his hair, he spun around on the bench and grabbed a towel. “What are the fucking odds?”

Curiosity piqued, Jordan asked, “What do you mean?” He was running on the treadmill, desperate to straighten out this mess in his head, hoping for divine inspiration with his sweat.

“The one rule I have is don’t sleep with the clients. Keep your dick in your pants when it comes to women on these cases. So far, three of you have slept with clients, marks, or somebody related to the case. Now a woman
you’re
involved with is grabbed. That’s what I mean by odds, Jordan.”

Suddenly pissed, Jordan jumped off the treadmill and nearly ate his shit as he tried to make up for his sudden lack of motion by stalking over to Simon. Oblivious to the daggers his boss was shooting his way, he yelled at him, “What kind of fucking attitude is that? A woman is kidnapped and your first thought is too bad we can’t help her, Jordan’s fucking her!?” Sticking his finger in Simon’s face, he saw the foolishness in the gesture as soon as Simon quirked an eyebrow and pursed his lips, but he couldn’t stop himself. “And we’re
not
involved! We’re friends, that’s all.” That’s all they’d declared, anyway. That and the very real expectation of some spectacular sex. “We’re not fucking.” He felt the sneer distort his face.

Jordan was torturing himself with this line of thought. He saw the raised eyebrows Simon was aiming at his misplaced finger and Jordan slowly lowered it, with a sheepish, “Sorry.”

Evan piped up with his two cents. “If it wasn’t for our personal relationships, we’d be missing out on a lot of business.”

Simon sighed heavily and looked around at the other guys who were watching avidly, waiting for him to snap. Quinten looked positively eager at the possibility.

“Okay, we’ll make this one a priority. Zack can write up the reports on the missing kids we’re working. Evan, you sure that’s a trafficking ring?” At Evan’s nod, Simon continued, ticking off their other cases on his fingers. “Quinten can do a little extra in his down-time so we can focus on this. Evan, can you put off some of what you’re working on?”

“Sure thing, boss,” Evan nodded.

Following Simon to his office, Jordan felt a stirring of hope in his chest. With the whole office behind him, he and Ryan had a better chance. For the first time since leaving the Marines, Jordan felt like he was part of a team.

They worked and brainstormed for the next two hours with Evan on his laptop, looking for other women this guy could have taken. Hopefully, that would give them the clues they needed to figure out who Mikey was.

Evan couldn’t track the F150 much further beyond the warehouse district where the switch had been made, so that was a dead end. He could have taken Mia anywhere. And that made Jordan nuts.

Misty had vanished into thin air. Apparently, Mikey had taken another woman, who wasn’t even reported missing yet. What did he do with the women? Where did they go? What was his plan for them?

“I think I’ve got something here.” Miriam was combing the police reports, looking for missing person’s cases from a month ago. “A woman named Evelyn Torres didn’t come into work last month. A co-worker called to see if she was in custody at the police station. Dispatch logged the call, but it doesn’t look like there was any follow-up.”

“Name?” Jordon was all over this, the first lead he’d gotten.

“The co-worker is Sharon Hawkins. That’s all I got. Evelyn was never reported missing. But she’s brunette and petite, like Mia and Misty, subtle Hispanic features. It’s slim, but it’s what I’ve been able to come up with from here.” Miriam shrugged, her face hopeful.

“Evan? Can you get me a number for her?”

“On it.” Evan was tapping away furiously on his laptop on the corner of Simon’s desk.

“You and Ryan go check her out when he gets you that number, we’ll keep working from here,” Simon muttered, his face still buried in Misty’s police file.

After getting the number, Jordan had it keyed into his phone while he and Ryan raced each other down the stairs to the parking lot. Outside, he called her.

“Miss Hawkins? Do you have a moment?” Realizing he was out of breath from running, he forced a calm into his voice he didn’t feel, even though his heart was racing at the possibility of a lead.

“Yes. Who’s calling, please?” an efficient voice sounded.

“My name is Jordan Rocco, and I work with Pierce Securities and Investigations. A co-worker of yours came up in regards to a case I’m working and I was wondering if you had heard from Evelyn Torres?” He crossed his fingers, hoping this would go somewhere.

“No, she never did show up. Mr. Perkins has replaced her already, although the new kid isn’t nearly as good as Evelyn. Have you heard from her?”

“Can we come and speak with you, please?”

“Um, I’m off today. Can we meet at a coffee shop or something?” She sounded hesitant, maybe because they were strangers.
Finally, someone with some sense.
That wasn’t fair, but Jordan just wanted everyone to be fucking safe. Was that really too much to ask? With all the sordid shit happening around him, Ms. Hawkins was a beacon of sanity.

“Sure, you name the time and place and we’ll be on our way.”

After setting up a meeting with Sharon, Jordan and Ryan drove as quickly as they could. Ryan interrupted the silence with a wry laugh.

“You really don’t have a relationship with her?” Disbelief was obvious in his voice.

“No.” Jordan sighed, wondering if he’d get called a pussy if he told Ryan how he felt.
Fuck it. Who cares?
“But I want one.” Dragging his hand across the back of his neck and staring out the window, refusing to make eye contact with Ryan, he continued, “We’d decided to have a physical thing, because neither of us wanted attachments. But I’d already changed my mind. She’s it, you know? Everything I want in a woman.” Leaving it at that, he waited for whatever Ryan was going to say next.

“You love her?”

Shrugging, Jordan refused to answer. He didn’t think so. Hell, he didn’t even know her, really. But he liked her.

Breaking the silence, Ryan spoke words that reassured Jordan more than he wanted to admit. “We’ll find her, man. We’re a great team.”

Sharon Hawkins wanted to meet at a crowded Starbucks, and Jordan credited the woman with some smarts. At least she wasn’t inviting strange men into her apartment.

Of course, that edge had been what initially drew Jordan to Mia. When he got her back, he’d make sure she never invited a strange man into her apartment again.

“Thanks for meeting us, Miss Hawkins. Can we ask about Evelyn Torres?” Ryan began, showing her his Pierce Securities ID.

“Sure. What do you want to know?” She looked at the badge, fidgeting, but Jordan figured it was just nerves from being called out of the blue to meet two strange men.

Jordan chuckled, trying to ease her a little. “Everything. We’re sort of up against a wall here.”

Ryan interrupted, “Start with any friends she had that you know of, or the last time you remember seeing her.”

“She was at work the week before. I guess that was…” She thought a minute. She was an older woman, sort of matronly, on the heavy side, but still well-put together. It was obvious she didn’t have a lot of money, but she wore her jeans and cardigan set well. “Valentine’s day? Yeah. She was going out for Valentine’s, but I didn’t see her after that.”