Furious (24 page)

Couples walked along the covered sidewalk window-shopping while a mother tried to maneuver her stroller around them. A jogger ran past, startling her. Her breath caught in her throat. Her palms felt sweaty. The wind caused a loose shingle on one of the shops to sway to and fro. Straight ahead was Joe’s Crab Shack, and to her left she could see the sign for Candy Heaven.

Standing on the corner of Front Street and L, she stopped and looked around. She had a clear view, but she couldn’t see anyone watching her. Nobody stood out.

Two kids ran out of the candy store. Once again she was startled by the sudden noise. For the first time since her sister had given her the news that a girl named Miranda had called the hotline, she wondered if she’d once again made a terrible mistake. What if the same men who’d been watching her were using the girl as a ploy?

She could be walking into a trap.

The same men who had attacked them in their house and killed Craig could have found one of the flyers she’d posted and set her up. Before she could abruptly turn around and walk back the way she came, someone grabbed her arm. “Faith McMann?”

Faith swiveled about, her grip firmly around the gun, her finger ready to pull the trigger. The girl standing before her wore a baseball cap pulled low over her eyes. Straight white hair was tucked behind her ears. “Are you Miranda?”

“Come on,” the girl said. “Let’s walk. I think I’m being followed.”

Faith started to look over her shoulder.

“Look straight ahead. Act natural.”

“How do I know you don’t work for the men who took my children?”

Miranda glanced her way but didn’t slow her pace. “You don’t.”

In a heartbeat Faith realized she had no choice but to trust the girl. “Is it true? Have you seen my daughter? Who has Lara?”

“They changed her name to Jean. They also tattooed her arm with the letter
H
.” As she walked, Miranda pulled her coat, along with her shirt, down over her shoulder to give Faith an idea of what she was talking about.

Faith kept walking. “Where are we going?”

“We’ll find a place to hide and hopefully lose them. Where are you parked?”

“My friends are in a truck close by. I can call them.”

“You were supposed to come alone.”

The clouds overhead broke open, and within seconds a light drizzle became a downpour.

“I was with them when I got the call,” Faith said as she pulled her hood over her head. “In order to make your time frame, I had to bring—”

A shot rang out. The bullet hit the metal sign next to Faith.

Faith ducked. A woman screamed. People dodged past them, running into the shops and restaurants for cover.

“Run!” Miranda said and that’s exactly what Faith did. People still on the sidewalks were either frozen in place or ducking behind benches and wooden trash bins.

Faith did her best to keep up with Miranda, running on the street, bent over as she ran, keeping her head low and staying close to the cars parked at the curb. The rain wasn’t letting up. Soaked through, Faith tripped as she rounded a corner, but she managed to catch her balance in time to see Miranda cut a sharp right into the parking garage.

They sprinted to the back of the garage and hid behind a Ford Escape, both catching their breath as they waited to see if anyone followed them inside.

No sooner had they ducked low behind the SUV than two men stopped in front of the garage entrance. Seconds later, they split off, leaving one lone man to walk into the garage.

Faith pulled the pistol from her pocket and got into position so she would be ready to shoot if she had to.

Miranda’s eyes widened at the sight of the gun.

The clack of the man’s shoes echoed off the thick cement walls. Faith held still when the tip of a dark shadow came into view. Another few feet and he would see them both. Faith steadied her wrists and held her breath.

A young couple walked into the garage, chatting away as they headed for their car, oblivious to the danger lurking nearby. The gunman turned and walked back the way he came. As soon as he exited the garage and disappeared farther down the street, Faith put the gun away. Then she pulled out her phone and called Beast.

“Where are you?”

“I’m with Miranda. We’re in the parking garage next to Joe’s Crab Shack. There are two men with guns. One of them is close by.”

“We heard a shot. Is anyone hurt?”

“We’re fine.”

“We’ll be right there. Stay put.”

When she got off the phone, she told Miranda as much as she could about Beast and Rage and what was going on. Sirens sounded in the distance. They stayed low behind the SUV and waited.

“Earlier you asked me who has your daughter,” Miranda said quietly.

Faith nodded, waited for her to go on.

“Jasper, a boy who worked at the farmhouse, told me that the operation was run by the mafia.”

“Where is he? Can I talk to him?”

“He’s dead.”

Beast’s truck pulled into the garage, engine rumbling. The rest of her questions would have to wait. “Come on,” Faith said. “Let’s get you out of here.”

F
ORTY

Hudson and four other boys, Joey, Denver, Aiden, and Sean, had been brought to a cabin in the woods. Denver, thirteen, was the oldest boy in the room. He was bossy and mean, so Hudson did his best to stay away from him. He had no idea how far they were from home, but his every waking thought was about escaping. They had tried to get out the windows, but the boards covering them were screwed in.

All five of them wanted the same thing—to escape.

They had been making plans since last night, ever since finding a hole to the outside beneath a section of baseboard in the bedroom where they were kept each night. They each took turns digging. Right now it was Aiden and Hudson’s turn. As they worked, Denver talked about how the five of them were the lucky ones. He went into gross detail about what the other kids were probably being forced to do to old dudes who paid for sex. Hudson wasn’t sure whether or not he believed him. Maybe Denver was only trying to scare them.

During the day, all five of them were led to a large warehouse-type building with cement floors and aluminum walls. That’s when they would join together with other groups of boys, where they were all forced to trim cannabis. He’d been doing it for more than a week now. Wearing gloves and using sharp scissors, they spent all day trimming leaves. Sometimes he would get blisters. The scissors they used were chained to the table where they worked. Denver said it was to make sure they didn’t use the scissors as a weapon and start a riot. So far, Hudson’s steady and fast hands kept him in the mountains instead of on the streets like a lot of the other boys—that is, if Denver’s stories were true. More than anything, Hudson wanted to go home.

At the moment, all five of them were back in the tiny windowless room they shared each night. After working from sunrise to sunset, they ate rice and bread and then they were locked in their room until the next morning. There were no beds, only a few dirty blankets scattered across the hardwood floor. At night it got real cold and sometimes they all ended up squished together to stay warm. Except for Denver, who took one of the three blankets and slept far away from the rest of them.

Hudson smiled when he realized the hole was getting big enough that he could probably stick his head all the way outside. He was about to tell the other guys when they heard footsteps outside the door.

Aiden tossed a dirty towel over the hole, covering the pile of dirt. They all looked at one another, then rushed to the middle of the room, plopped down on the floor, and tried to look bored. Sean grabbed a deck of cards and dealt them each a hand.

The door swung open. Hudson rubbed his eyes, feigning drowsiness. When Derek, the guy with the long ponytail, stepped inside, Hudson said, “I’m hungry.”

“Too bad. You should have eaten when you had the chance.” Derek’s gaze roamed the room, his head angling in curiosity when he noticed the lumpy towel in the corner of the room.

A bug skittered across the floor.

In hopes of getting Derek’s attention, Hudson jumped up, squished the bug with his thumb, and then put it in his mouth and chewed.

The other boys laughed.

Derek grimaced. “You are one seriously deranged kid.”

“Thanks,” Hudson said, still chewing.

More snickering.

“You boys won’t be laughing for too much longer.”

Nobody said anything, everyone hoping he would go away, but that would have been too easy.

“The boss’s ninety-year-old grandmother needs some help,” Derek said. “And it looks like you boys get to do the honors. One of you is going to have the pleasure of cutting back her brittle yellow toenails while the rest of you give her naked body a good scrub with a damp washcloth. Whoever is left gets to pleasure her in other ways. She may be toothless, but she still has a bite to her and she’s as mean as they come.” He grinned. “She especially likes little boys with smooth hairless skin.”

“I guess that means she likes you,” Joey said.

Hudson threw his head back and guffawed.

Derek jabbed a finger in Hudson’s direction. “You’re a little shit.”

“You’re a little shit,” Hudson mimicked.

“Keep it up.”

“OK, I will.” Hudson turned around, pulled his pants down, and mooned him.

Derek’s face turned bright red right before he charged into the room and slammed him to the ground, knocking the breath right out of Hudson. Joey was smaller than Hudson, but he was a few years older, and he jumped on top of the ponytailed man and started pummeling him with his fists.

Sean had a better idea. He headed right out the door and never looked back.

F
ORTY
-O
NE

Back at her parents’ house, Faith and Miranda changed into sweats and T-shirt and then dried their hair with a blow-dryer. They were about the same size, which made it easy to find the girl something to wear. After getting warmed up and eating grilled cheese sandwiches and hot soup, Dad ushered Miranda to his favorite chair with the ottoman and handed her a blanket. Miranda seemed to be taking it all in stride, didn’t mind everyone staring at her once they were all gathered in the living room.

Beast and Rage sat by the fire while Jana found a seat on the couch next to Mom and Dad. Faith handed her a cup of hot tea. “I hope you don’t mind if we all ask you a few questions?”

“I’m fine,” Miranda said. “I want to do everything I can to help find Jean . . . I mean Lara.”

Mom had passed around mugs of hot chocolate, and Miranda took a sip and then didn’t hesitate to tell her story. “Eighteen months ago, my mom and I were living on the streets when a woman named Caroline acted all friendly and offered me a job. I had seen her hanging around my school before and so she was a familiar face. She said all the right things to a girl who didn’t have fifty cents to her name. I wanted to let Mom know I was leaving with Caroline, but she said we needed to hurry if I wanted the job. I didn’t hesitate to get into her car.” She shook her head with regret. “She had bought McDonald’s and I ate a hamburger and drank a soda on the drive. I didn’t realize until much later that she must have drugged me because when she woke me up we were at a farmhouse surrounded by fields of cows. My head was groggy, and I didn’t feel right. Within ten minutes of arriving, it was clear that I wasn’t brought there to tutor young girls as I’d been told. I was immediately locked in a room and beaten every day. They changed my name, and if I wanted to survive, I figured out pretty quickly that I had to learn to follow orders. I had to pretend I liked being raped by those disgusting men.”

Faith’s mom stiffened. Dad placed a hand on her shoulder.

Miranda looked at Faith. “Should I stop?”

Faith shook her head.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Miranda told Faith’s mom, “in the trafficking world, Lara is special, which is good and bad. They’re saving her for the right buyer, which is good because that buys you all some time, but bad because once they find a buyer, who knows where she’ll be sent off to.”

“What do you mean?” Jana wanted to know. “They couldn’t take her far without a passport or ID, could they?”

“According to Jasper,” Miranda said, “these people can get anything they need at any time. There’s nothin’ that money can’t buy. But while I was at the farmhouse nobody touched Lara. The worst thing that’s happened to her so far is the letter
H
they tattooed on her arm.”

“Thank you for that,” Jana said. “Do you know what the
H
stands for?”

Miranda shook her head. “Me and the other girls figure it has something to do with the main boss’s last name. But that’s just a guess.”

Miranda took a sip of her hot chocolate before she continued. “The woman in charge insists on being called Mother,” Miranda said, “but I’ve since learned that her name is Diane. I tried to escape the farmhouse more than once, but I was caught and punished. I was ready to give up on living when Lara was brought to the house. I could tell she needed me, but the truth is I needed her.”

Faith entwined her fingers and before she could open her mouth to ask the most important question, Miranda said, “I don’t know where she is. As I said, I was drugged when Caroline brought me to the farmhouse, and every time I came and went after that I was blindfolded.” With her gaze still on Faith, she said, “I’ll do whatever I can to help you find her. I told her I would get her out of that place, and I will not break my promise.”

“How about Hudson?” Jana asked. “Did you happen to see a little boy who looked like Hudson?”

Miranda shook her head. “I’m sorry. Other than the two young men who worked on the farm, I didn’t see any other boys.”

Rage spoke up next. “I know you said you were drugged when you were brought to the farmhouse, but how about before you drifted off to sleep? Did you see anything at all? Any buildings or road signs?”

Miranda thought about it for a moment, then set her mug aside and straightened in her seat. “I do remember seeing a sign on the highway. We were on CA-99 headed south. I remember thinking that we were going in the same direction my mom and I had taken when we took a Greyhound bus from Sacramento to Lodi.”

“I’ll go get a map,” Dad said. When he returned, he smoothed the map out on the coffee table where everyone could take a look.

“What about sounds?” Beast said. “Did you hear any sounds when you were coming or going?”

Miranda closed her eyes as she tried to think. “It always felt as if we were on a downhill slope as we left the farmhouse. The tires were definitely moving over gravel and dirt—not pavement. Toward the bottom of the long drive there was a dip, and that’s when I would always hear sheep. Lots of sheep. A few times I heard motorcycles in the distance.”

“Motorcycles?” someone asked.

“Yeah, it sounded like a lot of them.” There was a pause before she added, “The last time I left the farmhouse, Jasper, the boy who was driving, stopped about halfway down the drive. His window was rolled down and he stopped to talk to someone, maybe a security guard or something, which was weird because that was the first time I remember stopping along the way.”

“What about the men who were shooting at you and Furious?” Rage asked. “Do they work for that witch at the farmhouse? Any idea who they are?”

“No. I only know they killed Jasper, the guy who tried to help me get away. Jasper never told me a name, but he did say they would come after us. And he was right.”

Late that night everyone was asleep except for Faith. It had taken some convincing, but Miranda had agreed to stay with Faith and her parents for a while. She was sleeping upstairs in the bedroom next to Faith’s. Tomorrow, she and Miranda would take a drive, head up CA-99 and see if anything spiked a memory, a sign or maybe a familiar-looking building that might lead them to the farmhouse.

Unable to sleep, Faith decided there was no time like the present to exercise and build up some strength, figuring a workout might also help her sleep. First she stretched; then she did planks and sit-ups. She worked up a sweat and was about to take a quick shower when she saw a beam of light shoot across the backyard.

Alert now, every muscle tense, she watched from the upstairs window, careful not to let whoever it was see her. As far as she could tell, there was only one beam of light, which hopefully meant one person.

She put on her sneakers, slipped a sweatshirt over her head, then grabbed the gun and headed downstairs. Before making her way through the kitchen door that led to the backyard, she snatched the flashlight from the top drawer next to the refrigerator.

The moment she stepped outside, the bitter cold hit her like a slap to the face.

Careful not to make a noise, she walked across the lawn, heading in the same direction she’d seen the figure go, which was toward Dad’s workshop. She probably should have woken Dad up, but she’d been afraid that whoever was there might run off before she had time to figure out who was snooping around. Something told her that if the men who had attacked her ever came around, they wouldn’t send one lone man to wander about the backyard in the dead of night.

As she rounded the corner, she was surprised to see the door to the workshop opened. She and Dad had been keeping the door locked at all times. She hadn’t heard a crash or a bang. Standing outside the door, she listened until she heard the sounds of footsteps at the back of the room near the bathroom. That’s when she stepped inside, gun in her right hand, and flashlight in the left. When the intruder stepped out of the bathroom, she shone the light in his face and said, “Don’t move or I’ll shoot.”

He raised both hands.

A tool belt was fastened around his waist. The beam of his flashlight was pointed at the ceiling. A dark cap was pulled over his head. Dark circles framed bloodshot eyes. His nose was red from the cold, and the lines around his eyes and mouth were deep.

“Joe?” The last person she’d expected to see was Craig’s partner, Joe Henderson. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Did you have your pool fixed lately?” he asked.

Fury caused her eyelid to twitch. He must have been to her house and seen that the money was missing. She refused to let on that she knew where the money was. Better for him to think someone else had found it. “Why do you ask?”

He sighed. “I’m going to level with you.”

It took everything she had within not to shoot him. “I’d really appreciate that, Joe.”

He started to lower his arms.

“Keep your hands in the air.”

He did as she said. “A few months back, I inherited a large sum of money. I had to hide it from my wife . . . so I hid it in your pool equipment at the other house.”

“You mean the house where your good friend Craig lived?”

“I’m sorry.”

She waved the gun wildly at him. “Do you think I’m a fucking moron, Joe?”

“No. No. Of course not.”

His eyes darted around the room, looking for a way to escape, no doubt.

“Don’t even think about running. I’ll shoot you,” she said, venom lining her voice. “I might even enjoy watching you die.”

He opened his mouth to talk again.

“Shut up! That money you hid at my house is the reason Craig is dead. Where have you been getting all this money, Joe?”

When he didn’t answer, she stepped closer and raised the gun so that it was pointed at his forehead.

“Don’t shoot. Please don’t shoot,” he said in a whisper. “Craig had nothing to do with any of this.” His voice cracked, and his shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry, Faith. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Where did you get the money?”

“A client needed my help hiding money.”

“So you helped him launder money?”

He nodded.

“They never would have killed Craig unless they thought he’d done something wrong. Why did they kill my husband?”

“Because they thought he stole millions of dollars.” His head fell forward.

“Did Craig know about the money?” she asked, her mouth dry.

He shook his head.

Guilt and shame for doubting Craig, even for a moment, swept over her in a giant wave. But it didn’t last long. Instead, an emotion much stronger than guilt took precedence, a sentiment that had recently become achingly warm and familiar. The anger she’d been tamping down returned in an instant, spitting and sizzling within her veins.

“Look at me, Joe!”

He did.

“Don’t pretend you’re sorry now, because that’s bullshit and we both know it. You’re a sorry excuse for a human being.” More than anything, she wanted to shoot him dead, then strangle him for good measure. Instead she counted to three and tried to calm herself. “I need information, Joe.”

A sheen of sweat covered his forehead. “What do you need to know?”

“I want the client’s name. The man you stole from.”

Silence.

“It’s over, Joe. Give me the name, or I swear to God I’ll shoot you down right now, right here.” She clenched her jaw.

With both hands still raised above his head, he took a step backward, closer to the sofa that lined the wall.

“Give me a name, and I’ll let you go,” she told him.

“I need that money, Faith. They’ll kill me if I don’t return the money.”

“That’s too bad, Joe. You should have thought of that a long time ago. If you don’t give me a name, you’re not going to have to worry about them anyhow.” She lowered the gun, aimed for his leg, and then pulled the trigger, hitting the wall to his right.

Shit. Not even close.

He fell backward onto the couch, cowering like the chickenshit that he was.

“Listen to me, Joe. That money is dirty. That money is the reason Craig is dead and my children are missing. I have absolutely nothing to lose, and you’re not leaving here without giving me a name.”

“I never meant for Craig to get hurt,” he told her, crying now. “The business was going under. We both did all we could to salvage it. I borrowed against my house. I lost everything . . . my wife, my kids.”

Calmly, deadly, she put the muzzle to his head. “I want a name. Now.”

He closed his eyes and whispered, “Richard Price.”

Richard Price.
She recognized the name from the client list. But since he wasn’t one of the wealthiest, she’d crossed him off the list. Something didn’t add up.

“Faith! What are you doing?”

Wearing pajamas and a robe, Dad stepped inside the command post carrying a rifle.

Faith let the hand with the gun drop to her side. “Don’t let him run off, Dad. He’s the reason Craig is dead. I’m going to go back to the house and call the police.”

Thirty minutes later a row of police cars and unmarked sedans filled the driveway.

Detective Yuhasz, three police officers, and two FBI agents all showed up at around the same time. After Joe Henderson was taken away in handcuffs, Faith was asked to take a seat in the family room and answer a few questions. Her mom offered coffee and tea and after everyone politely declined, she quietly made her way upstairs with a mug and a plate of toast, no doubt for Miranda since they had all decided it would be best if she stayed in her room until everyone left.