Dark Powers (12 page)

In fact, it wasn’t either of the vehicles that had given them problems. Instead a woman rushed out of one of the rooms and climbed into a mid-sized Toyota, which drove away.

Ben turned back to Sage. “Sorry. We’re both on edge. And we keep reaching for each other.”

“Is that bad?” she asked in a thin voice.

“You don’t want to get mixed up with me.”

“Why not?”

He felt his features harden. “I’ve done things that would make your hair curl.”

“Like what?”

Maybe if he spelled it out for her, it would be a dash of cold water for both of them.

“I told you my sister took a job where she had no business going. She was always into rough sex, and she saw an ad where people could sign up to be slaves for a year. The idea turned her on, so she investigated further and found out the job was on a cruise ship that a rich bastard named Bruno Del Conte owned. He had it set up like a floating S and M pleasure palace—where the rich and kinky could do anything they wanted to the poor jerks who had signed up as slaves.”

When Sage started to speak, he shook his head. “This isn’t easy for me to talk about. Let me finish.”

She answered with a little nod.

“I advised my sister not to take the job. I told her it could be dangerous, but she was young and reckless. For a few months I got e-mails from her, telling me how much fun she was having—getting paid for stuff she’d like to do anyway. Then the e-mails stopped. When I made some inquiries, I hit a blank wall. I was still on leave from the police department after getting shot. I resigned and applied for a job on the
Windward
, and I was accepted."

He made a face. “The first thing I had to do was lie—pretend I was interested in kinky sex. Once I got to the ship, I found out pretty quick that the atmosphere there was deadly. I learned that my sister had probably died during a sex session that got too rough. Around that time, the security chief was killed when some of the sex slaves rebelled. The owner of the ship liked my police background and promoted me to head of the security force.

“While I was chief, a couple more slaves were killed. I sneaked into the morgue and touched them. Which is how I found out what had happened to them. But I also knew that directly attacking the owner, Bruno Del Conte, was a suicide mission, because there were too many of the security forces who were completely loyal to him.

“About that time, Cole Marshall and Emma Richards, two Decorah agents, came on board. They were looking for a Baltimore woman who’d been kidnapped and brought to the
Windward
. When I found out what was going on with them, I figured we could help each other out. The four of us escaped together, and Del Conte got killed when he was trying to gun us down. Which is how I ended up working for Decorah.”

He kept his gaze fixed on her, looking for signs of revulsion.

“You did what you had to,” she said in a low voice.

“I let people die rather than give myself away!” he answered.

“You’re not responsible for their deaths.”

“I saw that some of the guests might go too far if given the chance.”

“But you couldn’t know for sure.”

“Not for sure.”

“And if you’d interfered, what would have happened?”

He heaved in a breath and let it out. “I could have been executed.”

“So you used your best judgment—in order to save a lot more lives.” She kept her gaze fixed on him. “The operation’s shut down, right? Thanks to you.”

He shrugged.

“It’s like in a war,” she continued. “You had to make some hard choices, but you don’t have to keep punishing yourself for what happened on the ship.”

“You weren’t there,” he clipped out.

“Right. I’m here. Feeling guilty about letting my sister down by not coming back to Doncaster. And the only way I can wipe out that guilt is to find out what happened to her.”

“And if we can’t?”

“I’m not giving in to that possibility. Not yet.”

“You may have to face it.”

She gave Ben a steady look. “Not until I give it everything I’ve got. Starting with confronting my mother.”

“All right, but do you think she’s going to tell us anything?”

“I hope so.”

oOo

As they drove in silence to her mom’s house, Sage slid him a sidewise glance, seeing the grim set of his jaw.

She knew he’d been trying to shock her by talking about his experiences on that ship, the
Windward
. She
was
shocked, but what he’d said had given her some important insights. He’d been deeply affected by the months he’d spent on that ship. He’d done things he considered immoral. Ironically, she knew it was because of his strong sense of morality.

The first thing Sage noticed when they arrived at Angel Baker’s house was that her car was missing from the driveway, and when Sage knocked, there was no answer.

“She could be at work,” Ben said.

“She could be, but I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

She unlocked the door and they both went in.

“Mom,” Sage called.

There was no answer.

“Mom?”

As they both started moving rapidly through the house, Sage’s heart was in her throat. She kept picturing herself stumbling over her mother’s body, but when she got to the master bedroom, she stopped short. The closet door and some dresser drawers were open. And the suitcase that Angel kept under the bed was missing.

Sage breathed out a sigh. Now that her worst fears hadn’t come to pass, she felt her anger rising. “She’s gone.”

“And taken some clothing,” Ben said. “Unlike Laurel who had plans to come back home.”

“Where do you think she went?” Sage asked.

“I don’t know, but I’m guessing somebody paid her to get out of town for a while.”

“But why?”

“If your mom’s not here, she can’t give us any information.”

Sage worried her bottom lip. “But somebody could have killed her and made it look like she left town.”

Ben looked around, then peered out the window. “Maybe the neighbors saw something.”

They left the house and went next door. When nobody answered, they crossed the street to Mrs. Hartley’s house.

Sage remembered that the old widow had liked to keep track of what was happening in the neighborhood.

Mrs. Hartley answered the door quickly, as though she’d been looking outside and knew they were coming. She was a short, dumpy woman in her late seventies, with thinning hair and wrinkled skin. She was wearing a shapeless housedress.

“Why, Sage, it’s good to see you,” she said.

“Good to see you, too.” Sage cleared her throat. “Mom’s not home. Did you happen to see her leave?”

“Well, she had a visitor early in the morning. Then she left about an hour later, carrying a suitcase.”

“A visitor? Did you see who it was?”

“A man. But he had his cap pulled down over his face.”

“It wasn’t the police chief, was it?” Ben asked.

“I don’t think so. He looked much more fit.”

“What kind of car was he driving?” Ben asked.

“I don’t know much about cars. It was big and expensive looking.”

“Can you tell me anything else?”

“I’m sorry. And sorry to hear the rumors about your sister too.”

“What rumors?” Sage asked.

“That she had a fight with your mom and ran away.”

“We’re not sure that she did.”

The woman made a tsking sound. “It didn’t make sense to me. Not that girl. She was too motivated to do something stupid. I hope you find out what happened to her.”

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Hartley closed the door, and they walked back to Ben’s car. As Ben climbed behind the wheel, he said, “It sounds like Angel was paid to leave.”

Sage dragged in a breath and let it out. “I guess that’s right.”

“I’ll see if Teddy can get a lead on her.”

“How?”

“If she used her credit card, the transaction will show up.”

“Okay. But let me leave her a note, just in case.”

Sage went back into the house and scribbled a message, asking her mother to call. That was the best she could do for the time being.

When she came back to the car, she said, “I was all charged up to talk to Mom. Now what?”

“Before that guy knocked you into the water, I was going to suggest we go to that boarding house—Mrs. Borden’s—where the other girls lived.”

“You think
they
can tell us anything?”

“All we can do is try. Do you know where the boarding house is?” he asked.

“Yes. Like the Crab Shack, it’s been around for a long time.”

They headed for a part of town where many of the older homes had been turned into various businesses.

As they drew near the boarding house, they passed a beauty supply company, a lawnmower and bike repair shop, and a business that distributed cardboard boxes.

“Not the upscale side of town,” Ben said.

“The neighborhood’s changed.”

But Mrs. Borden’s large Victorian house was still functioning as a residence, although the rooms had probably been divided up into much smaller units.

Sage gave the property an appraising look. The exterior needed painting, but the old hydrangeas, rosebushes, and crepe myrtle were well tended, and the grass was neatly mowed.

A small sign on the lawn advertised, “Borden’s Rooms—Vacancy.”

As they pulled up out front, she turned to Ben. “I let you do the talking with Chief Judd, but in this place maybe it would be more effective for me to appeal to Mrs. Borden.”

“That’s probably right,” he conceded, and she was glad that he wasn’t going to put up an argument.

Two young women were relaxing in molded plastic chairs on the porch. Sage saw that one of them was Sonja, their waitress from the night before.

The Czech woman looked up as they climbed the wraparound front porch and approached the front door.

“We’re still trying to get some information that would help us find my sister,” Sage explained.

“She didn’t live here,” Sonja replied.

“No, she lived in town with our mom. But there are two other girls we’d like to ask about. Magdalina Sawicki and Andrea Dvorak.”

“I knew Magdalina,” Sonja murmured. “She was here for a little while when I first came. She was nice. She—how do you say it— showed me the ropes.”

Ben had already rung the bell, and before Sage could ask Sonja another question, Mrs. Borden came to the door. She was a short, plump lady with gray hair braided and fixed in a circle around the top of her head. She was wearing a flowered dress under a white apron.

“Mrs. Borden?”

The woman glanced from Sage to Ben and back again. “I’m sorry. I don’t rent to couples, only single women. It makes things a lot easier.”

“We’re not looking for a room,” Sage said quickly. “I’m hoping for some information that could help me find my sister, Laurel Baker. I’m Sage Arnold. And this is Ben Walker who’s helping me look for her.”

The woman kept her gaze on them. “Your sister wouldn’t have rented a room here. The girls I get are all from foreign countries.”

“I know that. But Laurel disappeared after work at the Crab Shack a couple of days ago, and I know a lot of the women who work there also live here.”

Acknowledgment bloomed in Mrs. Borden’s eyes. “Yes, the girls were talking about it.”

“We know that two other women who did live here also disappeared. Magdalina Sawicki and Andrea Dvorak.”

Mrs. Borden looked troubled. “Yes, that’s right. But Andrea was like a year ago. Magdalina was here more recently, though.”

Sage nodded.

“It was strange the way Magdalina just up and disappeared. She left her things here. And she left owing rent,” the woman added.

“Would it be possible for us to look through her things?” Sage asked.

Mrs. Borden hesitated. “Well, I don’t know.”

“We’d be very grateful.”

“Oh, I suppose it’s all right. I put everything into a couple of boxes. They’re out back.” She stepped aside, and they followed her through the house. Sage glanced around as they passed. There were two sitting rooms, each with a bulky television set and comfortable but old sofas and chairs. The dining room had a long wooden table, and the kitchen looked like it had been updated in the seventies. In the sink was a colander with fresh salad greens. And a large pot was boiling on the stove, making the room fragrant with vegetables and meat.

“That smells good,” Ben said, his first words since they’d encountered the innkeeper.

“Vegetable soup. It’s hearty and nourishing. The girls love it. Most of them work in restaurants in town. We have an early meal so they can work the dinner shifts.”

“And it looks like you’ve given them a comfortable place to live,” Sage added. “How many women do you usually have?”