Elite Operatives: Demons Are Forever Part 22

"Okay, so this is what I have." Reno briefed them on the 911 call he'd retrieved that mentioned a Dario and gave them all the info he had on the woman who'd made the call and the vacant house the police had checked out.

Chase frowned when he told them the girl was a known prost.i.tute and had been reported missing by an anonymous woman who'd used a pay phone near Heather's apartment. The implication was clear.

"I'm sending you what I have, along with what I've been able to find out about the guys you wanted me to check out," he told them. "Can't exclude any of them yet. I'm still working on it."

"Anything else?" Jack asked.

"Yeah. I've cracked some of Rozsa's encrypted files. That other New York account I'm tracking that was paying him? They weren't buying viruses. He was selling them human organs. Haven't tracked the account owners.h.i.+p yet."

"Human organs?" Chase repeated. Heather's brother needed a kidney. Could there be a connection? Every bit of new evidence they got seemed to suggest Heather had to be involved somehow, but she still couldn't believe it.

Heather stared at the ceiling over her bed, her mind churning with too many questions for her to sleep. The evening had been treacherously long after her appointment with Dario and left her feeling emptier than normal. When she'd first started two years ago, she'd cried after these appointments, but it had been a long * 169 *

time since she'd broken down like she had tonight, and she couldn't understand why it had happened. Her customer hadn't done anything unusual to prompt her reaction. Maybe she was getting too tired of this work. Maybe her head was telling her it was time to stop. But why now, and what would happen to her brother if she did? What would happen to her dreams if she had to look for a second full-time job to support both of them?

How long would she have to continue this lifestyle? Could she go on until someone noticed her work in the fas.h.i.+on industry, or would she have to continue until her brother finally... G.o.d. Get a grip. Just the fact that Adam's death crossed her mind both shamed and shocked her.

She wanted her life back to where she wouldn't have to live with fear and lies. Where she could have actual dreams of dating someone like...Brett. A decent, attractive woman who made her feel safe and wanted her company because of what she could offer outside the bedroom.

Brett's response to the topic of s.e.x was puzzling, however.

Their mutual attraction seemed undeniable, yet Brett had made it clear she wasn't interested in her that way. Was it because she could see through Heather's faade? See her as someone who got paid to sleep with men? As much as Heather feared that, she doubted Brett knew. No, Brett had said she was a serial polygamist. But then why hadn't she been interested in Heather? Maybe she wasn't Brett's type. Not that Heather would have slept with her, and G.o.d knew dating was out of the question, but it bothered her just the same.Her head spinning, she turned on the TV hoping it would distract her, but the available choices at this hour failed to do the job and she turned it back off a few minutes later. Still too restless to sleep, she got up and went into the living room to see if anything needed cleaning.

She spotted Brett's graphic novel and gingerly removed it from its plastic sleeve to examine the cover. Landor the Demon wore black, in contrast to his bright-yellow hair. His eyes looked sad.

Heather took the novel with her to the couch and got comfortable.

* 170 *

Though she'd never read anything like it before, she was curious about what Brett had created.

Although it was issue # 96 it was easy enough to pick up on the ongoing theme. Satan forbade Landor from approaching the woman he loved, so he protected her from a distance while he sought comfort and pleasure in the arms of other women. Emily, his true love, was oblivious to Landor's constant shadowing and knew nothing about who saved her life when she got in trouble.

The artwork was amazing and something about Emily seemed familiar, but Heather couldn't put her finger on why. She lost herself in the story and didn't go to bed until she finished it, but even then, sleep was elusive. Now, in addition to her own troubled life, she'd become preoccupied with Landor's as well.

She was so lost in her thoughts she literally jumped when her cell phone rang a little after midnight. No one called her this late.

Had something happened to her brother? She checked the caller ID and saw it was Direct Connect. "h.e.l.lo."

"Sorry to call you this late, love," Margaret said, "but Dario rescheduled and I wanted to give you a heads-up."

"For when?"

"Tomorrow, six p.m."

"Just to talk, right?" Heather asked.

"That's right, love."

"I'll be there."

"You will if you want the cash, and I know you do."

"Good-bye." Heather hung up.

If Dario had wanted more than just conversation, she would have declined. She was still too sick to her stomach for a repeat of tonight.

* 171 *

* 172 *

ChaPter eighteen.

Haarlem, Netherlands Next day, November 22 Mishael Taylor glanced out the second-story window of the mansion she shared with her lover and watched Kris at work in the garden, pulling out the dead undergrowth around the topiary figures in readiness for winter. She couldn't help but think of Ca.s.sady and how she'd go crazy if Kris went missing and ended up in the hands of a madman like Rozsa.

She kept checking her watch and glancing at her cell phone.

Rozsa had promised to call back, and she needed to stall him convincingly to keep Lynx alive. Pierce had contacted Interpol, and, as expected, they refused to release any of the twenty million dollars the EOO had diverted from Rozsa's accounts.

She had a small card to play that she hadn't expected, but she was to use it only if absolutely necessary: Pierce had offered to divert three million of his own funds and discretionary EOO money if it looked as though Rozsa was tired of waiting and determined to execute Lynx.

When her cell rang with Unknown Caller, she speed-dialed Reno on the landline before she answeredhis cue to start tracing the call- and hit the Record b.u.t.ton to capture the exchange in its entirety.

"h.e.l.lo."

Rozsa got straight to the point. "Do you have my money?"

* 173 *

"Before we continue negotiations, I want to make sure our a.s.sociate is still alive and well," she said.

"Alive, yes," Rozsa answered. "But her condition is deteriorating, I'm afraid. She's becoming an increasing liability to me, so I hope you are able to conclude our transaction quickly."

"You have to realize how difficult it is for us to regain those funds from Interpol," she said. "It's going to take more time to get the necessary approvals and set up the transfer-at least another week, perhaps two. We're optimistic we can make it happen, but you need to do your part and ensure our colleague doesn't come to harm in the interim."

"She is not my primary concern," Rozsa replied. "And I'm beginning to think you are just stalling for time."

"I a.s.sure you, that's not the case," Misha said. "We're working on several fronts to-"

"I'll give you five days to come up with, let's say, one-tenth of the funds, to keep her alive," Rozsa said. "And the remainder will be due one week after that. I'll be in touch." The line went dead.

She dialed Reno. "Anything?"

"Too quick. He's obviously savvy about how long it takes to isolate an overseas trace."

"Yeah, I didn't think so. I'm sending you the recording now." She e-mailed him the short clip and glanced out the window again.

She couldn't do any more until he called back, and she had to vent her frustration. She grabbed the keys to her silver Jaguar XKR convertible and opened the window.

"I'm heading over to the track. I feel the need for speed," she called down to Kris. "Want to ride along?" Kris looked up at her, s.h.i.+elding her face with one hand against the glare of the sun. "Sure, lover. As long as you promise not to break the sound barrier this time."

New York Chase was supposed to be able to get an hour's more sleep than Jack, who had to be up early to tail Heather to work, but she tossed * 174 *

and turned most of the night, unable to get Heather out of her mind.

So by the time Jack called from the Garment District, she'd already had their new rental car delivered and was en route to pick her up.

Their constant game of musical chairs with vehicles was getting annoying. To ensure they could continue their surveillance without further parking issues, they'd left the first rental at Heather's apartment and the surveillance van at the brownstone, so they needed yet another car to check out the Teaneck house Reno had told them about.

Jack tossed her half-finished cigarette when she spotted Chase and climbed into the rental with a super-sized coffee in a Styrofoam cup. She looked as though she hadn't gotten much sleep either, no doubt a combination of worry over Ca.s.sady and the prior night's resurrection of her nightmare in Israel.

Though she still couldn't forgive Jack for her part in Regina's death, and for not contacting her after she disappeared, the story of her imprisonment, torture, and rape-and Montgomery Pierce's reaction-had softened Chase's att.i.tude toward her.

She punched the address Reno had given them into the rental's GPS and they arrived at the New Jersey house a little after ten.

Fortunately, the place was still up for sale, and no one was around.

"This is the place," Jack said. "From the looks of the lawn, no one's lived here in a long time."

"An ideal place for teens and whoever else to crash." Chase jimmied open the door.

They checked out all the rooms on the ground level first. It didn't take long; the place was vacant save for the window dressings, appliances, and a couple of cheap chairs. Chase looked out one of the windows. "The girl said she had a view of a cell tower and a swing set and kiddie pool right under the window. She must've been on the second floor to be able to see the tower. The trees obscure the view of it from down here."

They took the stairs and found themselves in a long hallway, with two doors on either side. "Only two rooms up here with that view. I'll take this one," Jack said, and disappeared into the first room on the right.

* 175 *

Chase took the one farther on. She checked out the view and found the swing set and plastic pool right under the windows. The tower was probably a couple of miles away. "I found the room," she yelled.

"I know," Jack said, when she joined her seconds later. "I saw the pool from the other room." She started looking around and bent to examine something near their feet. "What do we have here?" Jack held it up. "A red, fake fingernail, lodged between the floorboards." Chase took in the big windows that ran along the length of the wall. "My guess is she broke it trying to open the window. Take a look, this one's nailed shut."

Jack pulled one side of the floor-length curtains all the way to the far wall to check the other windows, while she did the same with her side. Chase was almost to the wall when she kicked something that had been hidden beneath the drapery. "What the...?" She reached down and picked up a small cell phone. "How did the police miss this?"

Jack walked over. "Because it's the Jersey cops. They're up to their b.a.l.l.s in gang crime and freak shows, just like the NYPD.

How much effort did you think they'd put into finding a missing prost.i.tute? At least fifty girls like her disappear every day. They probably showed up, took a look-see, and filed a missing-person's report all in the s.p.a.ce of thirty minutes." Chase examined the phone. "It's dead."

"It would be after three weeks."

"Do you think it belongs to the girl?"

"Don't know. We'll have to power it up and see." They looked around the house for another fifteen minutes before returning to the hotel, where they connected the cell phone through a mini-USB to Chase's laptop. Both waited anxiously for the battery to charge enough for them to turn on the phone.

"Okay, here we go," Chase said when the display lit up. She checked the history of outgoing calls. The final one was the call to 911. The one before that was to Heather's cell, though Gigi had her listed in her contacts as Amber.

Next, Chase checked the history of missed calls. She frowned when she saw there were three, all from Heather's cell.

* 176 *

"Heather obviously knew Gigi's real name to report her missing, but looks like she wasn't as forthcoming in disclosing her own ident.i.ty. They couldn't have been very close if Gigi didn't know Amber's real name," Jack said.

"I guess not," Chase mumbled. She dialed voice mail and hit the speakerphone b.u.t.ton so Jack could hear as well.

Heather's voice was loud and clear. "Hey, Gigi, what happened last night? Did you get home okay?" Next message: "Gi, let me know you're all right." The final message: "Gigi, if you don't call me back today, I'm going to come find you."

"That was three days after she disappeared. Heather didn't phone the cops to report her missing until a few days ago. Doesn't look like she was in a hurry," Jack pointed out.

"No, it doesn't." Chase looked through the pictures on the phone, scrolling past numerous photos of men, a few women, a kitten, and...one with Heather in it. The woman with her had to be Gigi, since she was in many of the others as well. She had her arm around Heather and was smiling, oblivious to the photographer.

Heather, on the other hand, was staring intently at the camera with a serious and uncomfortable expression.

"Doesn't look like a mutually fun experience, if you ask me," Jack said.

"No, it doesn't." Chase shut the phone. "She doesn't look happy about being photographed."

"I hate to say this, but it doesn't look good. As a matter of fact, it looks pretty d.a.m.n bad. Heather took her time contacting the cops, and her messages sound more neutral than they do concerned." Chase sighed and got up. "I agree."

"I want to check out Gigi's house. See if I can find anything there," Jack said.

"Reno can get you the address."

"Do you think Heather works for Dario? Lures stray working girls and sends them to him for...parts?" Chase ran her fingers through her hair. "I don't know. It's possible." She sat back down.

"d.a.m.n," Jack muttered.

* 177 *

"Boy, did I misjudge her." Chase stared at the photo of Gigi and Heather.

"Makes you wonder if any of her johns have gone missing," Jack said. "I mean, if she works for Dario, she obviously doesn't have to hook for money. Maybe it's part for his pleasure and part entrapment. Potential involuntary donors." Chase felt a headache coming on and rubbed her eyes. "It's possible," she mumbled.

"What?"

"I said it's a good G.o.dd.a.m.n possibility."

"Come with me to Gigi's, or whatever her name is," Jack said.