Finders/Keepers (An Allie Krycek Thriller, Book 3) (20 page)

“They’ll take you home.”

“I want to go home
now.
It’s been so long…” She looked out the window, as if she was already imagining wherever “home” was.

“You said you knew Faith,” Allie said, looking back at the girl.

Iris nodded. “She was already here before me. I guess because we kind of looked alike, they put us together a lot of times.”

“Together?”

“You know, photos, videos, that sort of thing. Together.”

Allie nodded. “Do you know where she is now?”

“They took her away two months ago. She’s not supposed to be back for a while.”

“Where did they take her, Iris?”

“Can I go home now?” Iris asked. Suddenly she looked very young and vulnerable, and Reese couldn’t help but wonder if she was one of the girls stuffed into the trailers of those big rigs he and Dwight had babysat in the past.

If we didn’t do it, someone else would have.

Telling himself that usually worked, but this time it didn’t quite have the same impact. He looked out the windshield at the police action up the street instead, anything to keep him from seeing the tears coming down the girl’s cheeks in the backseat.

If we didn’t do it, someone else would have…

“All right,” Allie said. “We’ll go home first.” She turned around and nodded at him. “Let’s go.”

He turned on the engine and U-turned down the street.

He drove for half an hour, sticking to the speed limit. He didn’t say a word, and neither did Allie in the front passenger seat next to him. He hadn’t asked Allie where they were going, but he guessed it didn’t matter as long as they were out of the city. Iris sat quietly in the back, smiling to herself as she stared out the window, as if everything was new to her and she couldn’t (and never wanted to) get enough of it.

If we didn’t do it, someone else would have
, Reese told himself for the tenth time in as many minutes.

H
e slowed
down as they hit a stoplight and parked behind a beat-up Chevy with a Baby on Board sticker in the rear windshield.

“What’s next for you?” he asked.

“I take that list of addresses you gave me, and I give it to the authorities,” Allie said. “Then I go find Faith.”

“I thought you said the Feds were slow dinosaurs.”

“They are, but I can’t go around shooting up buildings like this the rest of my life. After today, after this hits the news wires, they won’t have any choice but to act on what I give them. If they don’t, I know a few people in the press I can call.”

He chuckled. “You mean blackmail the Feds?”

She didn’t answer.

“Damn,” he said. “Dwight was right. Remind me never to cross you.”

She still didn’t say anything.

“Listen, I was thinking, after this—” he started to say, when he caught a flurry of movement out of the corner of his right eye and thought,
Shit!

Reese jerked his head back just in time, and the first shot
buzzed!
past his face, so close he could feel the heat of the projectile going by, and smashed the driver-side window. He struck out and hit her gun hand, and she squeezed off a second shot, this one sending a round into the front windshield and spiderwebbing it.

The wound in his side screamed from the sudden movements and pain lanced through him, but it was better than getting shot
again.
Reese reached blindly for the door lever with his left hand, by some miracle located it, and jerked it back while at the same time throwing himself out just as she fired again and the round
zipped!
over his head.

He landed in a pile on the cold pavement, then rolled and bumped into the tires of a gray sedan. A car door creaked open, and Reese, flat on his stomach against the road, looked underneath the truck and saw Allie’s feet hurrying down from the front passenger side—

He scrambled up and staggered down the street, partially bent over at the waist in some pathetic attempt to lessen the pain coursing through him. He went down the street, toward the back bumper, because he knew she would take the fastest route to him, which meant circling the hood. His side burned, and he couldn’t decide whether to reach for his gun or grab at the wound to keep the stitches from busting.

He reached for the gray sedan’s radio antenna to stop himself from falling headfirst to the street and nearly snapped it in two. He grabbed as much of the car’s trunk as he could and went around it. An old couple in a white station wagon five feet away stared wide-eyed at him as he darted in front of their vehicle and onto the other side of the lane.

Bang!
as a round sailed over his head and hit a sign in the middle divider.

Reese summoned every bit of speed he could muster even as moving traffic threatened to run him over. Horns blared, but he ignored them (
Bleeding man running for his life here!
he wanted to shout and laugh) and made it to the other side of the street without having to dodge another bullet.

A half dozen people on the sidewalk scattered at the sight of him, and Reese threw himself into their midst to use them as shields. He took a moment to glance back and saw Allie looking after him before she turned and hurried into the driver-side of the truck and drove off.

He couldn’t help himself and smiled after her even as he felt the wetness against his hand. He was bleeding again, but that was okay. He watched the truck make a right turn and disappear and briefly wondered if Allie would turn around and try to finish him off.

That was unlikely, but he didn’t completely put it past her. She was, after all, one of a kind. He’d known that when he first saw her, and the last two days hadn’t changed his mind whatsoever. If anything, they’d only reinforced it.

Allie, or Alice, or whatever she called herself, was a hell of a woman, even if she had tried to kill him.

Twice, now.

“Hey, mister, you all right?” a man with a ball cap asked.

“Yeah, yeah,” Reese said, and grinned back at the guy. “Lover’s quarrel. Nothing we can’t get past.”

“You serious, man? You’re bleeding!”

“Tell me something I don’t already know,” Reese said, and hobbled off.

Somewhere up the street he heard police sirens, but Reese ignored them and slipped into an alleyway.

He was bleeding badly and dripping blood on the pavement as he limped his way toward the end. He fumbled with the bottle in his jacket and popped two pills into his mouth, and that seemed to alleviate some of the pain almost immediately. Of course, that wasn’t really possible, but Reese had found that he could trick his mind into believing just about anything if he tried hard enough.

I’ll see you around, Allie.

I’ll see you around…

S
he knew
about the process that took place between the brokers and the johns, and how the girls were moved from place to place in order to maximize revenue. Most of the information she gleaned herself in the early days of the investigation, while various people—some more voluntary than others—filled in the rest.

It took her almost a full week to isolate where her target would be. It was a four-star hotel, and the man was inside one of the building’s two bars, ordering drinks, when she slid onto the stool next to him. His eyes, predictably, went first to her generously exposed cleavage before settling on her face.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” she said back. The wig itched, but she was used to discomfort and brushed at a blonde strand to let him know she was interested.

He smiled. He wasn’t bad-looking. Late thirties, with streaks of gray around the temples. He was dressed appropriately for the environment.

“I’m Glen,” he said.

“Gwen.”

“Hey, two Gs in a bar.”

She smiled. “I don’t get it.”

“Dumb joke,” he said. “What’re you having?”

She told him, and he ordered it, then a second one about thirteen minutes later. He was waiting for someone, he told her, but the guy hadn’t shown up yet, though he was expecting the man any minute, which meant he might have to go at any time.

“You’re attending the convention?” he asked her.

She laughed. “Do I look like I’m attending a convention, Glen?”

“Guess not.” Another smile before he glanced down at his watch. “You know, I think this guy’s a no-show.”

“Stood you up, huh?”

“I think so.” He let out an exaggerated sigh and took a sip of his cocktail. “You wanna grab some dinner with me?”

“You paying?” she asked, and gave him a mischievous look.

“Absolutely,” he said, and smiled widely. “But what I meant was, you wanna grab some dinner with me in my suite?”

“Easy there, Texas. I’m not that fast.”

He chuckled. “Give me a break. I know a working girl when I see one.” He took out a roll of money and peeled off a hundred dollar bill and slid it under her glass. “How about it?”

“Five hundred for the night,” she said, and plucked the bill off the counter and slipped it into her purse.

“Five hundred’s steep.”

“Take it or leave it.”

“You worth it?”

“Every cent.”

He laughed. “We’ll see about that.”

H
e was trying
to get her cocktail dress off before they even got into his suite on the fifteenth floor, and it was only through experience that she managed to keep her clothes on in the elevator, then during the long walk through the hallway. By the time they were inside his room, she pushed him away and walked into the living room while he locked the door and began peeling off his own clothes.

It wasn’t until he was strutting after her in his boxers that he started to feel the effects of the drug she had slipped into his drink sometime before the last entrée. She had been a little afraid she hadn’t timed it correctly, but looking at him now as he stopped about ten feet in front of her and felt for his head with his hands, she guessed she had, after all.

“What’s happening to me?” he asked, his words slurred.

Allie sat down on the end of a sofa and watched him trying to shake it off. He had the look of a man who didn’t know what was happening to him and began groping the wall for a handhold. He ended up stumbling into an end table and knocked the vase off it before dropping to the floor on his butt.

“What’s happening—” he said, but never got the rest of it out before he toppled over to one side, his cheek hitting the carpeted floor with a nice, solid
thump!

She opened her purse and took out the phone and called down to the parking lot.

Lucy answered on the first ring. “Are you decent?”

She smiled. “Bored yet?”

“Getting there…”

“Go get some food. I hear they have a pretty good buffet in the hotel next door.”

“Oh, I see, you get to enjoy the four-star hotel while I get stiffed with the inn next door, huh?” Lucy let out an exaggerated sigh. “Eh, I have to take Apollo for a walk anyway. He’s getting a little antsy in the backseat.”

“Get him something to eat, too.”

“Will this take long, or shouldn’t I have asked?”

“I’ll give you a shout when I’m done,” Allie said, and put the phone away.

I
t took almost
two hours before he opened his eyes, about an hour after she had everything in place. He was still just in his boxers but was now strapped to a chair in the bathroom, his arms bound behind his back with plastic zip ties and his ankles similarly restrained. Duct tape covered his mouth, but his eyes were wide open and free to see her standing at the sink counter, looking at the contents of his wallet.

She glanced over and made
tsk tsk
sounds at him. “You lied to me, Glen. Your real name’s Mick Anderson.” She held up his driver’s license. “Out of Tucson, Arizona. You’re a long way from home, too.”

He said something, but the words were hopelessly muffled against the duct tape.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you,” she said, and picked something up from the sink. It was a small metal tube, but when she flicked it, it expanded into a sixteen-inch metal baton.

His eyes widened and his entire body went stiff.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, turning to face him. “‘She’s just a girl. She’s not going to do anything. It’s just a bad attempt at intimidation.’” Allie smiled at him. “I assure you, Mick, that this is going to hurt you way more than it hurts me. On the plus side, I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

She took a step toward him and he attempted to retreat, but of course he barely moved against his restraints.

She stopped and pointed at the floor. “Oh, you’ll note the plastic I put over the floor. We wouldn’t want to make a mess for the hotel to clean up, now would we? Wouldn’t be fair to housekeeping.”

He started shouting something into the duct tape when she struck him on the shoulder, the
thwack!
of the metal tube slamming into flesh, echoing off the bathroom’s tiled walls. The blow left a thick purple bruise against his exposed flesh almost right away, and he screamed into the tape over his mouth and tried to move his arms but only ended up almost toppling sideways.

She reached out to steady him. “Easy there. Don’t want you to fall again. It was tough enough dragging you in here. You’re a big boy, Mick. I bet that comes in handy when you have to keep the girls in line, huh?”

His eyes teared up and he might have been begging, but it was hard to tell.

“Sorry, I can’t hear you,” she said, and landed a second blow—
thwack!
—against his left thigh.

He jerked his body up as if he was trying to leap off the chair, but of course he didn’t get very high before coming back down on the tarp. He couldn’t stop the tears from falling, but he must have realized pleading wasn’t going to work, so he resorted to firing daggers at her with large, bulging red eyes.

She leaned back against the sink counter and twirled the baton in her hand. “I know that look. You’re mad. I can see how you’d think I’m being sadistic, but I’m really not. I’m just trying to impress upon you the seriousness of your situation, Mick.”

Muffled sounds against the tape.

She ignored him and continued. “One of your johns gave you up, in case you were wondering. Told me everything. How you arranged young girls for him and his friends. You’re a bad man, Mick. A very bad man who is far from home, doing very bad things. And, oh, the guy you were waiting for? I found him outside the hotel and told him I’d call his wife if he didn’t turn around and never come back. I may or may not follow up with him after tonight depending on my mood. I guess I could always use more practice with this thing. Practice makes perfect, right?”

She pushed off the counter and squared up against him again. He tensed up and the anger in his eyes vanished in a blink, replaced by real fear. If she had any doubts, he convinced her when urine
drip-drip-dripped
from his boxers.

“Glad I lugged that plastic tarp all the way up here,” she said just before she hit him again, this time on the right arm.

Before he could finish screaming into the duct tape, she struck him a fourth time in the right thigh.

Ten minutes later, he told her everything.

T
he man
who answered the motel door when she knocked on it had at least fifty pounds and five inches on her, but none of that did him any good when Apollo slammed into his chest and knocked him to the floor. The man was reaching for something in his jacket when Apollo growled and clamped down on his wrist. The big man let out a hellacious scream that probably woke up every single one of his motel neighbors.

Allie followed them inside and locked the door behind her. “Apollo, back.”

The dog let go of the man’s wrist and backtracked, but he snarled and showed his fangs to the man.

“I’d stay down if I were you,” Allie said.

The man grabbed at his bleeding arm while Apollo sat down on his hind legs five feet away and never took his eyes off his prey. If the man thought he had any advantages, he quickly realized that he didn’t and didn’t make any effort to get up.

“My hand,” he moaned instead.

“You’re lucky you still have a hand,” Allie said.

The man thought about replying but wisely kept his mouth shut. Allie crouched next to him and stuck her hand into his jacket pocket, the same one he had been reaching for, and took out a small pistol. She put it away then looked around, but there was no else in the room.

“Where is she?” she asked the man.

“Bathroom,” he said.

She stepped over him and toward the bathroom on the far side. The door was closed, but Allie could hear movement behind it and there was light visible under the slot.

Allie leaned toward the door and knocked softly on it. “Faith?”

There was no response, and the only sound was Apollo letting out a low growl behind her. She looked back and saw the big man attempting to rise from the floor, only to sit gingerly back down at the sight of Apollo’s exposed fangs.

She turned back to the bathroom. “Faith, my name’s Allie. Your mother sent me to find you. She told me to tell you that she saved Angles for you, that she’ll be waiting in your old room when you come home.”

She waited five seconds, then ten...

An almost hesitant
click
as the door opened, and a pair of blue eyes looked out at Allie. “Angles?” the owner of the eyes asked.

Allie smiled and nodded. “Your mother told me you’d know what it meant.”

“Angles,” the girl with the blonde hair said. It wasn’t a question this time. “I called her Angles because I couldn’t pronounce
angels
when I was younger.”

The door opened wider, and Allie took a step back as Faith stood in the doorway. She was tall for a nineteen-year-old and might have been taller than Allie if she wasn’t standing in her bare feet. She was a beautiful girl, and there was still unbreakable spirit in the eyes that looked back at Allie, a fire that hadn’t turned to embers yet despite everything she had been through.

“How did you find me?” Faith asked.

“Iris,” Allie said.

“Iris?” Her eyes widened. “Is she okay?”

“She’s safe and home right now. She asked me to tell you—”

Allie didn’t get to finish because Faith threw herself at her, and it was all Allie could do to grab the girl to keep from being knocked to the floor. The tears came, the heavy sobbing against her jacket, but Allie didn’t tell Faith to stop or pry her away and instead held the girl in a tight embrace and let her do what she needed to.

“You’re safe now,” she whispered, stroking the girl’s hair. “You’re safe now…”

She looked back at Apollo, and the dog gave her a curious tilt of his head. She smiled back at him then looked at the man on the floor.

“Hey,” she said. And when the man glanced over his shoulder at her, “You have two choices. You’re going to tell me everything you know about the organization, or you’re going to find out just how sharp his teeth really are.”

Apollo growled for effect, and the man swallowed hard.

“I can’t,” he said.

“We’ll see about that.”

“You don’t understand, lady. I can’t, because I won’t. What you’re going to do to me, what your dog can do to me, it’s nothing compared to what
they
can do.”

Allie stared at him, trying to decide how far to push. She had a lot of choices, but there was something on the man’s face—a resolute hardness—that told Allie it wasn’t going to matter how hard or far she pushed, because he wasn’t scared of her. Oh, he didn’t want to die, and he didn’t want to end up at the wrong end of Apollo’s teeth again, but as much as he was afraid of her, he was terrified
of
them.

Who the hell are these people?

But she’d deal with that question later. Right now, she turned back to Faith and continued holding the girl as tightly as possible.

“Let’s go home,” Allie whispered.

“What about him?” Faith asked, turning her head just enough to look over at the man on the floor. “What about the ones who took me?”

Allie narrowed her eyes at the man, cradling his bleeding arm while at the same time trying to avoid Apollo’s hard glare.

“Forget about them,” Allie said. “I’ll deal with them later.” She turned back to Faith and smiled. “Right now, let’s just get you back home where you belong…”