Return to Poughkeepsie (33 page)

“I can’t.” Joey sounded less sure of his anger.

“Asshole, I’ll turn your taint into a hand puppet. You know I will. You can bet your virginity on it.” He listened again, only a few miles from the parking lot now.

“Fuck you,” Joey said, with little conviction. “You don’t know her. How this chick works. It’s personal. She’s got a guy on my mom.
My mom
.”

Beckett pulled into the parking lot and almost ran over Joey’s toes. He opened the door hard and slammed it into Joey’s kneecaps. He grabbed him by the hair and forced the man to look at him. “Your mom?”

Joey tried to nod, but winced and seemed to think better of it when his head didn’t move. “Yeah.”

“Isn’t she in the nursing home?” Beckett slapped Joey’s face.

“Fuck you. Yeah, she’s there. Doesn’t even know who she is anymore. The fucker sent me this.”

Joey struggled to pull out his phone, and Beckett released him so he could scroll through the pictures. He found a video and hit play. Beckett took the phone from his hand.

A frail old woman sat in a dimly lit room when a man’s voice startled her. “Annie! You’re on fire! You’re on fire!”

The confusion in the woman’s face was heartbreaking. Beckett could almost see when the word
fire
surfaced from within the fog she lived in. All of the sudden she was petrified. The man kept telling her she was on fire until she started crying and swatting at her nightgown.

“Jump out the window! Jump. You’ve got to jump, Annie. You’re on fire!” The man unlocked the window’s safety latch. There was a brief shot of the ground, stories below. Then he swung back to the woman, who was pulling herself to her feet.

She staggered and fell, all while the man kept encouraging her to jump. She stood again, her face that of a wild animal scared out of its mind. Just before she could pull herself onto the sill, the man closed the window and relocked it. The video cut out.

“It’s from a disposable cell. Mom’s okay, other than her knees are all banged up. She couldn’t tell me anything about the guy. She couldn’t remember any of it—not surprising since she can’t remember my name.” Joey took the phone back and touched the screen before slipping it into his pocket.

“That’s some freaky shit.” Beckett waited for more information. Joey’s body language had completely transformed. It now seemed like talking was about to happen.

“She’s a sociopath. I’ve never met anyone made of such crap.” Joey shook his head. “I’ve had to do jobs for her. A few jobs—like similar shit to what you just saw in that video. Scare the fuck out of people. But, you know, she’s got someone on my mom.” Joey lit a cigarette.

“Why not pack up mom and leave?” That’s what Beckett would’ve done.

“Yeah, you know what kind of care my mom needs? She flips out if her slippers aren’t in the right spot. I’m a complete stranger to her. The place, though—the colors and the uniforms—it seems to make her happy.” Joey exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Tell me everything you know.”

“Fuck that shit. She’s got eyes everywhere. She’ll not only kill my mom but make it hurt the whole damn time she’s dying. I can’t. I can’t take the risk.” Joey shook his head. “You kill me. You can taint puppet me. I know you’d never touch my mother.”

Beckett shook his head. “I’m looking for a kidnapped lady. You have any information that can help?”

Joey’s hand shook as he took his next drag. “She’s not the only one. I’ve had to help them bag two other girls in the last week.”

“Dead?” Beckett’s stomach was in knots.

“Not yet. They’re related to people, so she’s using them. Like the shit she’s doing to me.” Joey rolled his head on his neck. “They got someone you know? They’re probably after you.”

“Where did you take the women?” Beckett felt his anger boiling.

“We took them to houses, like with For Sale signs on them and shit.” He thought a moment. “Yeah, they all had For Sale signs on them—Baker’s Realty. All over New York. And one in Connecticut. They’re going to do some sick shit.”

“I need all your contacts.” Beckett pulled out his phone and began texting John and Blake the Baker’s information.

“That’s just it. We all don’t even fucking work for her. She’s getting us all to fuck with each other.” He tossed his cigarette on the ground before grinding it with his shoe.

“Who is she?” Beckett knew of no female bosses in the area. The closest thing this place ever had to that was Eve.

“Her name’s Mary Ellen. She’s not shy about sharing that.” Joey looked nervous.

“Is this everything you know?” Beckett looked deep into the other man’s eyes.

“I can give you the addresses where we took those girls. They were both blondes. Well, and one little boy.” Joey made a motion as if he was writing with a pen and paper.

Beckett turned to the douchebag closest to him. “Text me his information. Hold him until I say let him go. I want the address for the little boy too.”

He had to move. This shit was going to get evil fast.

Eve sipped on pink champagne and made what appeared to be very flirty small talk with Ryan. They did so to cover the cell phone communication Ryan was having with Captain McHugh. Pictures were snapped and sent, gathered information passed along, and they’d full-on made out several times, hiding texting and spying.

When Mary Ellen stepped onto the dance floor and tapped her glass, Eve shook her head. “This isn’t going to be good. Buckle up, cowboy.”

She stood with the crowd as three different video screens were projected on a large, blank wall. Eve leaned against Ryan and wrapped her arms around his neck. He now had plenty of cover for his cell phone. He nipped at her neck, and she smiled.

“Gentlemen, please direct your attention to the screens. I know some of you are quite anxious for an update on missing family members.”

A sudden wave of silence settled over the crowd.

“Does this chick ever learn?” someone whispered near Eve and Ryan.

“Can someone please shoot her?” another voice replied.

“As many of you know from our last little gathering—and the rest of you know from the messages I’ve kindly sent you in the interim—I’ve politely requested that business dealings with Sevan Harmon be suspended. His business will soon end its operations in our area, and I’m pleased to note that many of you have been able to restrain yourselves quite appropriately. However…” She paused and made a little
tsking
sound. “Others of you have not been so wise.” Mary Ellen nodded and each of the three blank video screens came alive with real-time footage of a frightened hostage.

A collective gasp escaped the crowd, and Eve could feel Ryan moving his cell phone around to try to catch every image. After a quick scan, Eve determined that Livia was not among the captives. She cursed and cheered at the same. The last screen held a heartbreakingly small boy.

“You’re going to die!” came a voice from the crowd.

“Kill her.”

“That’s my child!”

“Wait.” She was using her schoolteacher voice again, which made Eve furious. “You have no way of communicating with the gentlemen in charge of the fate of your loved ones. If you kill me, they die. Totally up to you.” She shrugged.

The noise died down a bit. Thugs of all sizes and levels of refinement looked at each other blankly. None seemed quite sure what to do. None knew who to trust.

“I’m assuming you’ll want these ladies and the small gentleman back,” Mary Ellen continued. “If we can just come to a formal agreement regarding Mr. Harmon, I’ll make sure your loved ones have every amenity.”

A man approached Mary Ellen, gun drawn. She smiled.

“You’ll let me because otherwise—”

She looked away and nodded. One of the screens burst into movement. The woman bound to the chair began shaking as a man reached out with an electrical probe, barely touching her arm. She couldn’t scream because of the tape over her mouth, but she made noise anyway.

The whole time, Mary Ellen smiled at the man who’d threatened her. After a few moments she raised her hand and motioned for the attacker to stop. The woman slumped.

“That’s your niece, if I’m correct?”

“You
know
who she is.” The man stepped closer.

“She’s a pretty little thing.” She waved her hand. “The others haven’t been touched. You caused that pain for your niece. Why don’t you have a seat?” Mary Ellen motioned to his chair.

Eve turned in to Ryan’s chest. He kissed her forehead.

“She’s not going to let you leave. This is too much.” She looked in his eyes.

“I’m figuring.” Ryan shrugged.

“They’re going to need you, though. They might try to take me or your mom to be sure you cooperate. I gave them a false address for her.”

His jaw tensed. “Yeah.”

“They can take me. If they do, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” Eve touched his face and smiled. “You armed?”

He gave the slightest shake of his head.

“I’ve got something for you.” Eve spun around to face forward, hugging his arms tight to her middle. “Give me a second.”

As discreetly as possible, and taking full advantage of the chaotic crowd, she reached up her dress and removed the weapon Shark had given her from its hiding spot. Straightening and smoothing her skirt, she passed it to Ryan. In turn, he slipped his cell phone down the front of her bodice.

Beckett could see a video monitor from where he stood, and on it, just behind the ranting old chick, he could also see Eve. Her hair was dark and her dress was bizarre, but it was Eve. It felt like a punch as he watched her twirl in a man’s arms, whispering and touching him.

Why the hell she was at that crazy woman’s party, Beckett didn’t fucking know. But she’d moved on, clearly. He looked over his shoulder and nodded. Behind him four douchebags pulled down their ski masks along with him. They slammed into the structure like the fist of God.

Beckett went low and knocked over the chair the little boy was strapped to. He quickly dismantled it and scooped the boy up. The rest of the douchebags eliminated the kidnappers gruesomely, since they knew they had an audience.

Beckett put the boy down when they were good distance away from the house. He sliced through the bindings and comforted the kid as best he could.

“Listen, I’m going to get you to a policeman, and he will take you to your parents. Are you okay?”

The boy just nodded, eyes wide. Beckett remembered his mask and lifted it up. The kid was so fucking little. He pulled out his phone and tried to call McHugh. A different cop answered the phone and told him the captain was in the middle of a raid. Beckett’s heart soared. “Is it Livia?” he asked. But the officer had no further details available—or so the bastard said. Nonetheless, after a brief conversation, Beckett met a patrol car in a nearby parking lot. The rescued child seemed to relax when he saw the uniform. Beckett couldn’t have picked a better delivery system. The cop immediately called the kid’s mom while buckling him in the backseat, and Beckett departed before the policeman got a chance to ask questions. His douchebags were supposed to burn down the house where they’d found the kid to the ground.

Back in his car, he got a text from McHugh saying a kidnapped lady had been freed a few towns over. And no, she wasn’t Livia. Beckett sighed, his pulse racing. That party was going to turn into a shitstorm. What would Mary Ellen do after he or the cops released all her hostages and took down—one way or another—all her kidnappers?