Reunited in Danger (19 page)

“I know you will. God help you,” Ben whispered.

Quinn excused himself from a nearby group of officers and came over to Logan. “Search
warrants are being served for the diner and for the boat Wattana told you about.”

“I’ll meet you there. I have to stop by the church. Can’t find Keely anywhere.” His
chest tightened. What would he do if something happened to her? He might have been
able to get back on his feet after a crappy childhood and get back on schedule after
seeing the atrocities of war in person, but he wasn’t at all sure he could go on if
something happened to the woman he loved.

He loved Keely. Always had.

He raced to his SUV. Once inside, he squeezed the steering wheel tighter as he pressed
the gas pedal to the floor. He’d fallen in love with her when he was eighteen and
had been trying to fall out of love with her practically ever since. You’d think he’d
caught on by now that it wasn’t going to happen.

At full alert, with every muscle in his body tense, he screeched around the corner
and double-parked in front of the church.
Oh
God
. Keely’s Civic was in the parking lot.

Dashing to the front door, he jiggled the knob. The door swung open on its own, and
his chest constricted. Why was the church unlocked?

He pulled out his gun and sprinted through the church, down the hall to the office
area. Ben and Dave’s office doors stood ajar. The lights in Dave’s office shined bright.
Logan held his gun with both hands, and leaned against the outside wall. “Police.
Put your hands up.” He rounded the doorway.

Dave’s office was empty. Keely’s purse lay on the floor next to a toppled plant. She’d
been here and left.
After a struggle
.

He suddenly found it hard to breathe. “Keels, where are you?”

Chapter Eighteen

Keely fought the urge to sleep and forced her eyelids up. Darkness surrounded her.
Where the hell was she? She inched forward from her seated position on a cold floor
that rocked beneath her. Or maybe her dizziness just made it seem like it was rocking.
Her wrists were tied behind her back and somehow fastened to the floor. Pulling in
a steadying breath, she gagged and bit back bile. The scent of human odor—urine and
sweat—overpowered her senses. A strong smell that permeated the area as if it were
part of the walls and floor.

The memory of Dave’s gun smacking her skull came reeling back. Her father’s own friend
had hired drug dealers to beat him up. He’d probably ordered the hit on Margaret,
too, but she couldn’t figure out why.

The steady pounding in her head made her dizzy. Her stomach lurched from a combination
of betrayal and fear. She clenched her fists and struggled against the need to throw
up. These assholes would not get the satisfaction of seeing her sick.

The rocking continued and she swayed back and forth, growing queasier with each sway.
She must be on a boat. The thick, humid air confirmed it.

Who else was aboard? Could she make an escape?

She blinked several times, trying to adjust to the darkness. Squinting, she made out
shadows around her. With shaking limbs, she dragged her leg to the right and touched
something warm with her stockinged foot.

“Ya,” someone quietly said and kicked her leg away.

“Who are you?” Keely whispered, although it hurt to talk. “How many of you are there?”

“Help me.” A weak voice, like a child’s, whispered. Was it a child? Or a woman who
sounded young? These women had to be handcuffed, too.

Keely’s breaths came fast and short, and the stench only added to her dizziness. What
were her captors going to do with her? What were they going to do to these other victims?

“Come on,” she whispered, needing to hear a voice, even if it was her own.
Find a way to get these women out of here. To get yourself out of here.
She straightened her back, wincing at the shoulder pain, and peered into the darkness.

“Does anyone speak English?” she whispered.

“Shh,” someone hissed.

A squeak from the far end of the room drew her attention. A door opened, spilling
light from above. A harbor bell sounded in the background. The cold floor, the darkness,
the slight rocking motion. It felt like she was in the hold of a good-sized yacht.
At least a thirty footer. She’d been in similar boats before, but this one had been
emptied of the table and furniture. Gutted. To allow for higher capacity? For captives.
She shuddered.

Dim light silhouetted Dave’s form in the doorway and fear sped through her body. His
foot hit the bottom step.

The woman beside her gasped. Keely closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall.

She’d pretend to be unconscious. Wasn’t that what Logan had said his mother had told
him to do when his father beat him?

He hadn’t realized it when he’d shared his past with her, but what he’d told her just
might save her life.

…

Logan steered his SUV around a corner and gritted his teeth to keep from howling at
the growing pain in his chest.
Keely
. Taken by a human trafficker. But Dave had no criminal history. Had he somehow stumbled
into the role of criminal? But if he had no record, maybe he didn’t think like a criminal.
Maybe he didn’t know the ways the police could track him.

Logan would need a court order to track Dave’s cell GPS, but he could get that fast
now that Dave was a suspect. He called Quinn.

“Yeah?” Quinn answered.

“Get a court order started to track Dave’s cell phone.” He spat out the number.

“On it,” Quinn said.

“Check something for me, will you? Has the search warrant been served at Dave’s house
yet?”

Quinn spoke to someone, then returned. “Nobody home. Got a uniform sitting outside,
waiting for him to show up.”

“Thanks.” Logan disconnected.

Keely had to be with Dave. Not at church. Not at his house. Somewhere else.

Where?

God. Baltimore was a big place.

He glanced around at the city lights, the passing traffic, and had another idea. Through
his time in the Marines and his years on the police force, he’d prided himself on
his gut instincts when it came to criminals. And his gut told him Dave was driven
by greed.

Which meant he would keep shipping girls, continue to sell them, until he was put
away. And from what Amy Bittinger’s brother had said, the girls sometimes were held
for a while. What if Dave had another ship in the area?

Logan hit the brakes, made a U-turn, and headed for Locust Point where they’d intercepted
the ship the other night.

He pulled into the dimly lit parking lot, then drove toward the dock. Nothing. No
ships. No cars.

After visiting another ship repair lot with the same result, he banged the steering
wheel with both hands. “Where are you, Keely?”

Wait
. Dave had used ship repair yards, but that wasn’t the only place to dock a boat downtown.
Yacht clubs. There were two of them within a half mile.

He sped out of the lot and headed south.

The yacht club parking lot by the building was deserted, but as Logan steered the
car toward the water, his lights landed on a late-model Buick.
Dave’s car
. He tensed, fearing the worst. He burst out of his SUV, yanking out his cell to call
Quinn as he ran.

“Dave’s car is at the yacht club off Key Highway.”

“He in it?”

Logan squeezed his cell between his shoulder and his cheek as he kept one hand on
his weapon and shined his flashlight into the car. His gut lurched at the sight of
dried blood on the back seat. Keely’s?

“There’s blood on the backseat, but the car’s empty.”

“We just got the order for Dave’s GPS. He’s on a boat not far from the yacht club.
SWAT and units are on the way. Two minutes out. Hang tight, pal.” Quinn disconnected.

“
Please, Keely. Fight
. If he’s got you, fight and fight hard.”

To hell with hanging tight. He had to get to Keely now. He raced back to his SUV,
grabbed a pair of bolt cutters, then ran back to the fence that closed off the dock.
In one strike, he chopped the padlock.

Red and blue flashing lights filled the lot as patrol cars careened close. SWAT team
members swarmed toward the fence.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins with such force that his muscles ached to rip
something apart.
Preferably Dave
.

Logan tossed the lock aside and threw open the gate. Hank, the SWAT commander, caught
up to him and together they ran down the pier, faster than he had ever run in his
life.

Fear drove him. But not like when he was a kid and he feared a beating. Not like in
Afghanistan when he feared for his life and those of the men in his platoon.

This time the fear that fueled him was for the one person who brought hope to his
life, the one person who made him feel like he had a chance. And he’d been so stupid
he hadn’t even realized it until her life was at risk.

Something moved on the water.

“There,” he yelled, pointing at the shadow of a boat pulling away from the dock. “Give
me a pair of binoculars.”

A SWAT guy ran up behind them and thrust a pair into his hand.

“That must be where the GPS signal is coming from,” Hank said.

Logan stared through the binoculars, through the fog that formed over the water. Hank
turned and barked orders into his radio, requesting Coast Guard backup and helicopter
surveillance of the boat.

“You three,” Hank said, pointing at the closest SWAT members. “Stay put in case they
bring the boat back.” He faced Logan. “If I told you to stay put because you’re too
close to this case, would you listen?”

“Hell, no,” Logan growled.

“Thought so. Room for one more.”

The shadowy boat grew smaller and smaller. A tight knot clenched in his gut.
This was it
. He had to get to Keely and hold onto her forever.

To hell with a job offer in Texas.

To hell with his father who made him think bad blood ran through Logan, too. That
was the past. She was his future.

“Let’s go.”

…

Keely’s skull pounded like it was full of exploding rocks. Her head seemed so heavy
her neck had trouble supporting it. Through the open hatch, she heard a helicopter
roaring nearby, saw its searchlight beaming down on the boat as if it hovered.

Two men had walked down to the lower deck. Dave and Craig. Two men she’d thought were
friends. Dave directed his flashlight into the space. It was filled with women. The
glare from the helicopter light dwarfed his hand-held one. Was Logan up there looking
down at her?

Her heart raced. Should she continue pretending to be unconscious so Dave would leave
her alone? Or use her legs to trip and fight him?

She closed her eyes to stall the decision.

“You,” he spat out, kicking a small body near the wall. “Here,” Dave said, handing
a knife to Craig. “Cut her wristbands, Bittinger. We’ll use her as a shield.”

The woman whimpered, and Craig sliced the plastic cuffs and dragged her to her feet.

Keely dared to crack her eyelid open and swallowed a gasp. It wasn’t a petite woman
Craig held by her armpits.

It was Melita.

Keely recognized the girl from her file photo. The little girl whose abusive father
said she’d run away. The monster who had beat his three-year-old son George into unconsciousness.

Keely’s breath stuttered in her throat. She had to get the attention off Melita.

Dave held a gun in his hand.

“Hey.” Keely straightened.

Both men turned to look at her.

“She’s conscious?” Bittinger said.

She could pretend to help her captors. Maybe she’d be able to send a signal to alert
the police about these other women. “If that’s a police helicopter up there, they’re
likely going to fire tear gas onto this boat, and we’ll all be sucking wind,” Keely
said, fighting back her fear to keep her voice steady. Had they read in the paper
about the raid on the other boat? Would they see the logic in her argument since police
used tear gas on the other boat filled with hostages? Hell, were they also involved
with that boat of hostages from last night?

“The police know me,” she continued, desperate. “Besides, I’m a lot bigger than that
little girl. If they have a sniper, they won’t be able to get to you if I’m your shield.
Logan’s aboard that helicopter, and I can help convince them to make a deal.” Just
saying Logan’s name gave her the confidence to lift her chin and face these men. “Or
I can go up there by myself. That way you wouldn’t be in any danger at all.”

Dave backed up a step. “Think I’m stupid? You’d abandon ship if you went up by yourself.
Cut her out. I’ll take her up. You stay down here, Craig, to guard the rest. Shoot
’em one by one if I yell the order, starting with the kid.”

“Yeah, I got it under control.”

Keely stiffened as Bittinger leaned closer, reeking of body odor. He cut the flexicuff
and she twisted her hands to bring back feeling.

Dave yanked her hand and pulled her to her feet. Pain radiated down her body.

“I know what you’re doing with these women and children. You won’t get away with it,”
she stated, defiant.

“Shut up. Don’t say a word or I’ll kill that little one you’re so bravely trying to
protect. Easy enough to find another father who’s willing to sell his kids for a fast
buck.”

Dave’s words cut like a knife, slicing into Keely’s heart. Melita’s dad
sold
her to these men? This was America. People didn’t do things like that in America.
Oh God
.

“March up there and don’t talk till I tell you. You have a gun to your back, and I’ll
shoot you and every one of these women and children if you try any heroics.”

She wanted to think he was bluffing. But he’d had Ben beaten and then had kidnapped
her and who knew how many women and children. He had nothing to lose by pulling the
trigger.

He jabbed something cold and hard in the small of her back and she arched away in
pain.
Holy shit.
His demeanor left no doubt he would kill her. This was so much worse than she’d originally
thought. These men weren’t just heartless monsters—they were without souls.

She made her way up to the deck of the yacht. The chopper whirled above, its spotlight
scouring the boat’s deck. The wind from the helicopter blades kicked her hair into
her face.

Logan was up there. She could feel it.

Something else twisted in the gusty wind off the starboard side. A rope ladder? She
peered again. Yes, a rope ladder hung over the side, attached at the rail. Maybe the
police could gain entrance to the boat that way. Stealth style. But maybe the crew
on the helicopter couldn’t see the rope ladder. She had to let Logan know.

“Oh, my head,” she said. “I feel so dizzy.” She slackened her legs and pretended to
stumble, twisting so Dave couldn’t see her frantic hand gestures as she pointed at
the rope ladder. She could only hope Logan, or someone else in the helicopter, had
noticed her signal.

“Shut up,” Dave said, grabbing her around the waist with one arm and jamming the gun
under her chin with the other. “I’m going to take out my cell phone and dial 911 and
tell them to patch us through to the helicopter. Tell them if they even think about
firing tear gas or anything else at us, we’ll kill every woman down there,” Dave said.

Keely squinted at the helicopter, searching frantically for Logan as Dave took the
gun away from her head and reached into his pocket. Her head pounded, vibrated with
each beat of her heart, but even her physical pain couldn’t stop the undulating waves
of pain. She might never see him again.

Dave spoke to the 911 dispatcher and then handed the phone to Keely.