Deadly Ties (19 page)

Gwen frowned. “These men are Spiders, Lisa.”

“What does that mean?” Lisa hated spiders. She was terrified of them and had been for as long as she could remember, though she had no idea why.

“Spiders get rid of problem women.”

Spiders. She’d never heard of them. Gangs and traffickers and drug cartels, yes, but Spiders had eluded her and her professional community. Were they that good that they could function under everyone’s radar? And if they were, what did that mean to her and the others?

“So they’re going to sell us and then what? Prostitution?”

“Worse,” Gwen said. “They’re going to sell and then kill us whenever they’re ready—or have us kill each other so we get to live another day. They call it the kill-or-be-killed game.”

“It’s true.” Selene pulled a face mirroring Lisa’s disgust. “Frank has asked about our fighting skills.”

“Kill-or-be-killed. Like some sick sporting event where depraved people bet on the outcome?” Lisa’s head throbbed. “I can’t do that. I’m a doctor. I took an oath to heal people, not kill them.”

Gwen grunted. “None of us wants to kill. But all of us want to survive.”

“Like that?” Dangerously close to losing it, Lisa wrestled for control. “I couldn’t stand it.”

Gwen dipped her chin. “Which is probably why your stepfather chose it for you.”

The truth in that stole Lisa’s breath. She massaged her temples and prayed for the fear and turmoil churning inside her to settle enough so she could think straight. Think at all. “Sold and then murdered or forced to commit murder to survive by some unknown group that has Spiders find their victims. Unbelievable.”

“Oh, believe it.” Selene passed the flashlight back to Gwen. “They’ve all been preening about the fights since they threw me in this truck. Frank especially.” Her hands on her face shook. “Watch out for him. He’s as mean as a rattlesnake.” She pointed at Gwen. “He put that gash in Gwen’s head. It’s bleeding again, by the way.”

Gwen tore her slip, folded a ragged piece of the fabric into a makeshift bandage, and then pressed it to her forehead.

Struggling to absorb everything, Lisa rubbed her temples again, then her stiff neck.

Dutch, I knew you were capable of horrific things, but this kind of evil scorches even your charred soul
.

14

K
arl borrowed the convenience store’s facilities and then did a little reconnaissance. The women’s rest room reeked of pine cleaner and had a window. He’d put one of the men out back in case any of the cargo decided to try to crawl through it. Satisfied, he got a fresh cup of coffee, then returned to his car to wait for the truck.

The man he’d retrieved from the airport, now sitting in his passenger’s seat, didn’t say a word.

His silence didn’t surprise Karl any more than his not snatching the car and taking off. No need not to keep the engine running and the air conditioner going. Juan wasn’t going anywhere. The reason was simple. Give a man more to lose by running than by staying, and he would stay and do exactly as he was told.

Karl shut the door, then tapped the vent to blow cold air on his face. “Why does anyone live in the South?” he asked Juan. “Three in the morning, and it’s still hot and humid. I walk from here into the store and break a sweat.” He’d already removed his suit jacket and tie.

Juan spared him a glance. “You get used to it.”

He couldn’t get back home fast enough. “You’re clear on your instructions?”

“Sí, señor.”
He looked out through the windshield, his expression drawn and tense, his voice muted. “Drive the truck where I’m told and keep my mouth shut.”

“Good.” Juan was scared, shaking. The man at least had sense. He should be terrified.

The white truck pulled off the road and into the store’s parking lot. Karl watched it swerve around a pothole. Frank sat in the driver’s seat. As he pulled alongside the building, he kept the nose of the truck free of obstacles. If Frank had to depart quickly, all he had to do was throw the gearshift into Drive and hit the gas.

Pleased, Karl told Juan, “Time to move.”

Juan squeezed his eyes shut. “
Dios
, forgive me for what I am about to do.” He opened the door and stepped out.

He’d whispered but Karl had heard. No man liked to act against his own will, and while Karl didn’t lose sleep over the cargo—the chosen ones generally gave as good as they got—it grated at him to give another man a job he didn’t want. He’d been in that position early on and hated it. The Spiders were ignorant subcontractors out to make a buck. But Juan was being forced to act. Raven wanted him involved. That was more than enough.

Frank hopped down out of the truck and waited beside his open door.

As Karl and Juan approached, Karl lifted his right hand, stretched his fingers, exposing his tattoo for full view.

Frank flashed his and looked over at Juan.

“He’s not one of us.” Karl took the truck keys from Frank. “He’ll be driving.”

Frank’s jaw tightened and his expression darkened, clearly objecting to having an outsider aboard on his run, but the dark circles and bags under his eyes proved he needed a relief driver. “Who authorized this?”

“Chessman ordered it.”

Gregory Chessman had remained active in some NINA operations, even from his jail cell. Not as high up in the food chain as he once was, but high enough. Karl, who had been NINA’s point of contact for the Spiders, had gotten himself promoted to Chessman’s old job, and now Chessman worked under him and Karl ran the Spiders, which is why Karl had pegged Chessman and not Raven with issuing the order. Frank might or might not know Raven existed.

Neither Frank nor anyone else knew more than they needed to know about Karl’s promotion or about Karl. It was safer for him. Blend in, be indistinctive, the guy everyone sees and no one remembers. He had always hidden in plain sight; it was part of his job and what made him effective as a cleaner, mopping up soured operations.

When he’d first started over a decade ago, NINA assigned him to Europe, where he perfected his skills. His ability to fade into the background and his attention to detail were essential assets, and he prided himself on providing exceptional work—whatever, whenever, and wherever NINA needed him. In Europe and in the States, he’d made it his business to become their top go-to man. They wanted it, they got it, and it got done right. He served NINA well, and it rewarded him, promoted him right up through the ranks.

Surprise lit in Frank’s eyes, and he rubbed his jaw. “How long’s he going to be with me?” He jerked his head toward Juan.

“Until the cargo is delivered.”

Frank blinked hard, shifting his body weight, uneasy and not bothering to hide it. He stared at Karl with open suspicion. “Project?”

He and Karl had worked together on many occasions, yet Frank was still verifying.
Good man. Excellent
. If their positions were reversed, Karl would be doing the same thing. “Shifter.”

“Code?”

“Alpha 263891. Supplemental Executive Order.”

That woke up Frank. “An SEO? Seriously?”

Even Juan picked up on Frank’s surprise and tensed. Executive orders rarely trickled this far down the chain. Karl nodded.

Frank cleared his throat, outwardly nervous. “Raven?”

So he did know about her. “Yes.”

“All right.” Frank slapped his thigh. “That’s that, then.”

“There’s more.” Nothing stirred. Karl still scanned their surroundings. Isolated. No unknown cars in the lot. Just them and normal night sounds. He lowered his voice anyway. “They’ve added a cargo pickup in Jackson, Mississippi.”

Frank glowered into the woods abutting the ramshackle store. “That’ll add another four hours to the schedule.”

“A little more than that, but our orders are to adjust the schedule. I’ve taken care of it down the line.”

“Fine.” Frank grimaced. “I hope the client at least got soaked on the contract.”

“Paid triple the normal fee.” Karl had no idea if that was fact or fiction, but it was the word he got from Chessman when they last coordinated on the schedule.

“Whoa, baby. Now you’re talking.” Frank guffawed, clearly pleased that he’d get a piece of that profit. “Is she royalty?”

“Who cares?” It didn’t pay to share information you weren’t required to share. A man never knew when something he revealed would turn up in some jerk lawyer’s hands and he’d toss a man down in a deal.

Of course Karl knew the cargo’s history. Information was valuable, gave a man bargaining power. But he wasn’t revealing it. Especially not to a disposable gopher lowlife like Frank who had brawn but was a penny-thinking lightweight. “Cargo’s cargo.”

The woman was a witness on a federal investigation that would put an influential businessman in prison a minimum of thirty years for cooking his books. She couldn’t testify—it wasn’t in NINA’s best interests—and she was scheduled to on Monday.

“Do we intercept her too?”

“The cargo is already in custody.” Her guards were dead, and she had been relocated. “Pick it up in Jackson and resume your normal schedule.”

“Sweet.”

“Thought you’d appreciate that.” Karl smiled. “You’ll be notified where at the appropriate time.”

“Fine. That it?”

“That’s it.”

Frank studied Juan. “Don’t think about being a hero or giving me any trouble. I don’t give warnings. You do anything other than drive and you’re a dead man.”

“Sí, comprendo.”

Karl stepped back. “He won’t give you any trouble. Juan’s got a strong incentive to cooperate.”

“Good. We understand each other then.” He sighed. “Let’s get the cargo out and run them through so we can get back on the road.”

“The cargo is a them?” Juan asked. “What them? Run them through what?”

Frank landed a solid punch to Juan’s jaw.

He staggered back and thudded against the side of the truck. Catching his balance, Juan righted himself and clutched his face.

“No questions.” Frank warned him with a pointed finger. “You do what you’re told when you’re told.”

“My fault, Frank. I’m afraid I gave Juan the impression we were moving drugs.” A little chuckle escaped Karl’s throat. “I’m sure he was wondering what we were going to run them through.”

“Our cargo is women.” Frank parked his hands on his hips. “And we’re running them through the john, unless you want to hose them down and clean up the stink.”

“You’re shipping women?” Juan paled.

The question had been directed at Karl, who deigned not to respond.

Juan turned green. He quickly made his way to a patch of grass, bent over, and vomited.

“Oh, great.” Frank blew out an annoyed sigh. “Pull that in my truck, and you’ll be riding in back with the cargo.”

Juan heaved again, then straightened, wiping at his watering eyes.

“I’ll leave you to it, Frank.” Laughing, Karl returned to his car.

Juan, the poor slob, hadn’t had a clue. Karl almost wished he could be around to see the man’s reaction when he figured out the whole truth.

He’d totally freak.

Unfortunately Karl would have to miss it. He had other plans for a certain young woman in Seagrove Village.

A woman out of chances who needed to die.

The truck sat idle.

Something thumped against its side.

Lisa frowned at Gwen and Selene. “What was that?”

“Dunno,” Gwen said. “Too light to be a car.”

Lisa started shaking. “What’s going on? Why are we stopped?” They’d been still too long for it to be a traffic light.

“We must be at another one of those stores.” Gwen aimed the flashlight at her wrist and checked her watch. “Three o’clock. That’s what it is.” She pulled her blouse down over her hip, then turned off the light. “Potty-break time.”

Selene scooted back. “Don’t touch the door. Frank gets very angry if you’re close to the door.”

Lisa moved back. “How many men are with him?” Three had abducted her, but that didn’t mean there were three now. As the door was closing, she’d seen Edmunds and Powell getting into a car in the hospital parking lot.

“Who knows? The only one we ever see up close is Frank.” Gwen dabbed at the cut on her forehead. It was still bleeding.

“Keep pressure on it,” Lisa said.

Gwen pressed the bandage back into place. “That’s why you don’t look at anybody. The store will probably be empty, but if not, don’t trust anyone, and do not ask for help. You can bet they’re working for the people doing this or Frank wouldn’t be stopping here. Trust me on this, Lisa. Been there, done that, and all it got me was a head wound.”

If Frank was alone, Lisa might be able to take him down. If an opportunity presented itself, she would take it.

The lock clicked, and the door swung open.

A man with bags and dark circles under his eyes and stringy blond hair that hung loose down to his shoulders stepped forward with the gush of fresh air. He wore jeans and a dirty white T-shirt, had bulky muscles and no flab—not a good sign for an easy takedown.

“Here are the rules,” he said to Lisa. “You walk in the door, straight back to the bathroom, take care of business, walk straight out of the store, and get back into the truck. Understand?”