Hide From Evil (39 page)

She broke off as the car came to a stop and the engine turned off. Doors slamming sent vibrations through the car. She could hear footsteps and muffled conversation. Krista strained to listen but could make out only every few words.

“Need to hurry…have…sunrise.”

What happened at sunrise?

The lid of the trunk popped open. Fresh air rushed in and Krista took a greedy inhale, as did Nadia.

Her relief was short lived as Maxwell’s angry face loomed over her. Even in the darkness his ice-blue eyes glittered with an unholy light. How had she not recognized the evil lurking so close beneath the surface?

He reached in and grabbed her by the front of her shirt and dug the gun into the tender underside of her chin. Krista registered the smell of salt air and the sound of lapping water. They were at a marina. A wild look around registered slips full of luxury yachts.

The other man dragged Nadia out by the arm, and she stumbled and fell.

“Easy with her,” Maxwell snapped at the other man.

“Sorry, boss,” Cushman muttered and seemed to take a little more care when he pulled Nadia to her feet.

“What—” Stars exploded in her head as Maxwell hit her across the cheek with enough force to spin her head to the side.

“You keep your mouth shut.”

Krista’s cheekbone throbbed in time with her heartbeat. “Or what? You’ll kill me?”

“No, but by the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for it.”

He grabbed her by the collar of her shirt, and with his gun held squarely against her chest, he bent his head to hers. Krista held his gaze and forced herself not to flinch as his hot, sour-smelling breath hit her face. “You want to know why I told him to be careful? She’s a virgin. And the buyer Karev lined up won’t be happy if she comes to him all banged up.”

So Maxwell had been bluffing when he had threatened the girl. If he and Karev already had a buyer lined up, he’d be out thousands if anything happened to the girl. Nadia was too valuable to kill.

The marina was dark, deserted, but it was possible people were sleeping on the boats. Maxwell wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her, but she had to take the chance. She knew that if she and Nadia got on that boat they’d both be lost forever.

She jerked back with all her strength, catching Maxwell off guard enough that she broke his hold. She opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs. “Help us! Somebody please—”

Pain exploded through her skull with such force she fell to her knees. A rough hand clamped over her mouth, the fingers digging into her cheeks. Her lips ground against her teeth and she tasted blood.

Her vision tunneled and she fought for consciousness and felt herself thrown over a hard shoulder. She wanted to fight, but she couldn’t seem to get the message to her legs and arms. Her head throbbed and she realized the warm tickling sensation on her cheek was blood. His shoulder dug into her stomach so hard she thought she was going to be sick.
Maybe if I throw up he’ll drop me.

Maxwell threw her onto the deck of a huge yacht and dragged her into a stateroom. She was thrown on the bed like a duffle bag, the impact jarring her head hard enough to make her vision start to waver again.

“Nosy bitch,” he muttered. Krista held her breath. What was he going to do now? Kill her? Rape her?

Bile rose in her throat at the thought.

But to her shock, Maxwell quickly bound her hands and feet with zip ties, pulling them so tight they dug into her wrists and ankles, and sealed her mouth with a strip of duct tape. Had he fantasized about doing this while he practiced his golf swing at the country club? A bubble of hysterical laughter lodged in her throat at the thought.

Nadia landed on the bed beside her and Karev’s thug bound and gagged her too.

Maxwell leaned over Krista, his leering face penetrating her fog. “I have some things to take care of before we go. But don’t worry. We’re going to have a lot of fun together.” He reached out and covered Krista’s breast with his hand and gave it a painful squeeze, smiling at the way she whimpered behind the duct tape. “I’ve had my eye on you since you were sixteen, Krista.” His voice was rougher, the cultured tones giving way as he shed the final layers of civility. “I’m gonna enjoy every second. And when I’m finished with you, thanks to Karev I know some guys in Turkey who will pay me good money for you. You know Middle Easterners and their taste for the white women. Even the ones who are all used up.”

Chapter 21

S
ean paced the conference room that had become the center of operations. Though it was nearly ten p.m., the Homicide wing of the Seattle PD was humming with activity as they worked to track down Maxwell and Krista before it was too late.

Though there was still a statewide APB out on Sean and a warrant for his arrest for the shooting of the police deputy, Cole wasn’t about to turn him over to the authorities in Chelan County. Fortunately, no one else present seemed inclined to challenge him on that, especially after Cole made a few well-placed phone calls to some of the subjects of Maxwell’s lurid videos.

As expected, Maxwell wasn’t at home, his office, or any of the other obvious places. Petersen had been sent to pick up Margaret Grayson-Maxwell for questioning.

Maybe she could shed some light on where her husband had taken Krista. Sean wasn’t holding his breath.

They’d been back at the station for half an hour, and still nothing. Sean tried not to dwell on the fact that half an hour was plenty of time to rape and kill a woman. “This is ridiculous. There has to be a way to find this asshole,” Sean said. “Traffic cameras.”

“City hasn’t installed them in that area.” Cole shook his head as he looked at the map they had posted. There was a red dot that represented where Karev’s driver had picked them up, and concentric circles outward to show the radius they might have traveled. “If they head this way,” he said, indicating the south end of the city, “we might be able to pick them up on the cameras. I have an APB out on them. Every cop in the city is looking for that car.”

“And in the meantime that fucker is doing God knows what to her,” Sean bit out. “We have to do something. I can’t just wait around here.” He started for the door, but Cole caught him by the shoulder.

“Believe me, Sean, of all people, I know what’s going through your head right now.”

Sean met Cole’s dark stare. Right. Just a little over three months ago, Cole had been going out of his mind trying to figure out where that sick fuck Nate Brewster had taken Megan. He of all people knew how it felt to know the woman you loved—

His brain slammed into that word like a brick wall. No way. It was just the insanity of the last few days combined with a burst of a psychotic amount of chemistry. And now wasn’t the time to go all Dr. Phil on his feelings for Krista.

“Do these windows open?” Sean asked as he stalked to the ones that lined the wall across from them. He needed air. He needed to think…He managed to get one cracked open a few inches. “What about in-dash GPS, cell phones—”

“We’re trying to get in touch with all the service providers—”

“Do you mind?” Ibarra, who along with Brooks had remained mostly silent other than to answer questions from the other cops brought in on the case. “This kind of thing is right in my wheelhouse.”

“What are you going to do?” Cole said. Ibarra pulled a laptop out of his bag and flipped it open.

Ibarra started typing. “Probably best if I don’t give you all the details. Let’s just say I’m bending a few rules and leave it at that.”

Cole shrugged. “Whatever it takes.”

Within minutes Ibarra had a hit. “I’ve got an outgoing call, about four hundred meters from the warehouse at ten oh two. ” Ibarra said and ran off the number. “Another call five minutes later.”

There was a commotion outside the room as Margaret Grayson-Maxwell arrived. “This is a travesty,” she shouted. “I refuse to speak to anyone until my attorney arrives.” For a woman who had been dragged out of her house in the middle of the night, she was remarkably put together.

Then again, Sean thought as he felt disgust curl his lip, she was probably wide awake waiting to hear from David that the delivery had gone as planned and she was about to receive another infusion into her campaign fund.

“I’m here, Margaret.” A tall, athletic-looking man in his late fifties hurried in carrying a briefcase. The guy looked familiar and suddenly Sean realized why. It was John Slater, Krista’s father.

“John, thank God you’re here,” Margaret said, confirming Sean’s fears and offering her cheek to kiss.

“Of course,” he said, and then spun to pin Cole with a cold stare. His eyes were a familiar shade of grayish green. “What’s the meaning of this, detective? You drag my client down here in the middle of the night for no reason.”

“We need to ask her some questions about her husband,” Cole said.

The guilty flash in Margaret’s eyes was immediately hidden by indignation. “David is away on business. He left right after the fund-raiser tonight—”

Rage bubbled up in Sean’s chest at the lie that came so easily. “He’s in town. His goons killed Karev,” Sean snapped, ignoring Cole’s warning look.

Slater turned at Sean’s words. His head snapped back as he recognized Sean. “You! Where is Krista? What did you do to my daughter?”

“I didn’t do anything to her. Your fucking slime-bag client Maxwell has her. He kidnapped Krista after we interrupted the delivery of their truckload of girls.”

Margaret’s face went white. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Who’s Karev? I have no idea—”

Sean ignored her and turned to Slater. “He shoved Krista into the trunk of his car. That would be an interesting trial, watching you defend the man who kidnapped your daughter.”

Slater’s golf-course-tanned face went gray. “Where did he take her? Where is she?”

“That’s the million-dollar question,” Cole said. “Maybe you two can shed a little light.”

Slater looked like he’d been kicked in the chest. For all that Slater was a sleazebag, it was clear he still cared about his daughter. He didn’t seem to hear Margaret’s loud protests as she was led to an interrogation room, and his hands shook as he fumbled with the clasp of his briefcase. “My files—he has several properties in the area that he didn’t want traced to him. I can get you a list—”

“Did you help him buy a boat?” Ibarra broke in. “Because the last call I traced was fifteen minutes ago at the Corinthian Yacht Club.”

“That place is huge,” Brooks commented. “Could take us hours to locate if we don’t know what we’re looking for.”

“
The Eva Marie
. I helped him with a transfer of ownership from a business associate who wanted to keep it quiet.” Sean understood why when Slater named a well-known software company executive whose name was included on Maxwell’s list. “If it’s still at the yacht club, it hasn’t moved from the original owner’s slip.”

Slater quickly passed on the information. “I had no idea…I thought I was just helping David move money around…” he said, his voice tight. “Please don’t let her be hurt.” He said it like it was a prayer.

“I’ll do everything I can,” Sean vowed, though as he waited, muscles coiled tightly, for the cops to move out, he feared it wouldn’t be nearly enough.

Cole was barking orders, calling in requests for a helicopter, a hostage response team, a dive team, and assistance from the U.S. Coast Guard if needed.

But everyone seemed to be gearing up in slow motion. They didn’t know if Krista was dead or alive and they were all acting like they had minutes to spare.

He looked around the room and caught Ibarra’s eyes, then Brooks’s. All it took was a slight nod, and Sean made a grab for Cole’s keys on the table and the three went sprinting out of the building, ignoring Cole’s warnings to stop.

“If this goes wrong, it will be on you,” Cole said as the three flew out the front door.

It had been on him since the second he’d ignored his instincts and let Krista out of his sight, Sean thought as they jumped into the car. And now he just prayed he’d make it to her in time to set it right.

The stateroom where Maxwell had put her and Nadia was nearly pitch black. The lights along the docks had been shut off for the night, offering no illumination through the portholes.

Nadia was next to her, and Krista could feel the tremors of fear racking her body. Or they could have been her own. Krista was tight as a spring, every muscle tense and quivering.

She tried to stay present, to not let her fear-fueled imagination spin out of control. But bound and gagged in the dark, her only company a terrified, whimpering girl, it was hard not to think about what was likely to happen when Maxwell decided to return.

According to the glowing red numbers on the digital clock, they’d been on the boat just shy of forty-five minutes. Long enough for her legs to cramp and for her hands and fingers to swell and throb from the tight bindings.

She wondered what Maxwell was up to, but in the time they’d been here, all she’d heard was a lot of stomping around and unintelligible conversation. At one point she’d heard him shout, and then what sounded like people on the docks outside. Someone going? Someone arriving?

Maybe by some miracle, Sean and the others had figured out where Maxwell had taken them and were here to stage a rescue.

She let herself indulge the fantasy of Sean charging in like her personal knight in shining armor for about five seconds before allowing it to slip away.
Sean
. Her eyes stung with tears at the thought of him, his shadowed eyes that couldn’t hide the sparks of humor and passion that lurked beneath that hard surface.

His warrior’s soul and protective instincts that wouldn’t die no matter what had been done to him.

And the anger, too, bubbling inside him. She would never begrudge him a second of his rage, even though it had felt like a knife to the chest when it was finally aimed straight at her.

Now she was desperate to see him one more time and tell him she understood his anger. That she loved him whether he could ever forgive her and love her back or not.