The Body Market: A Leine Basso Thriller (22 page)

E
lise stared at
the dog man’s inert body, visibly trembling. Leine stepped into the headlights and walked slowly toward her.

“It’s all right, Elise. It’s over,” Leine said.

Elise’s gaze shifted from the man on the ground to Leine to the gun in her hand, fear flickering in her eyes. Leine leaned the MP-5 against the front of the SUV and continued her careful approach.

“How much is that dog
—”

Santa emerged from the left and Elise’s attention snapped to him. She tracked him as he walked to the passenger side of the SUV and reached through the open window. Mercifully, the song stopped.

“There’s a monitor in here.” He opened the door and slid into the passenger seat.

Leine scanned Elise, looking for anything that might be transmitting their position. She wasn’t wearing shoes, and her thin clothing didn’t have buttons.
No rings or a necklace
. “Can I see your bracelet?”

Elise looked at her wrist as though she’d never seen it before. She held out her arm, and Leine unfastened the piece.

“Sebastian gave it to me. He said it was magic.”

“It’s magnetic,” Leine said, studying the back.

“I’ve got two blinking dots,” Santa called. He exited the cab and walked behind the SUV to see to Julia.

Leine nodded toward Elise’s arm. “What happened to you?”

Elise glanced at the bandage and frowned. “I think they took a skin sample to check how healthy I was.”

“May I?” Leine asked, reaching for her arm. Elise nodded. Leine peeled back the bandage and gently probed the skin around the incision. “There’s a hard lump under your skin.”

“I thought it was scabbing up.”

“I think a transmitter has been implanted in your arm.” She handed Elise the bracelet. “Put this back on and keep it near the bandage. The magnets must interfere with the signal.”

Elise attached the bracelet. Her gaze skated toward the girl lying on the ground behind the SUV. “My friend—is she—”

“I’ve got a pulse,” Santa called.

Its head down, the pit bull crawled into view, sliding on its belly toward Cruz. Blood dripped from its ear. Whimpering, it snuffled at what was left of his master’s head and nosed his shoulder, trying to get him to move.

Elise’s knees wobbled. Leine grabbed her by the elbow and wrapped her arm around her shoulders.

“Come and sit down,” she said, leading her away from the mass grave to the back of the SUV. Julia lay on her side in the cargo area and Santa was in the process of checking her vitals. Leine eased Elise into a sitting position. “I’ll be right back,” she said and started to walk away. Elise’s eyes widened and she grabbed Leine’s hand.

“Don’t leave me,” she said, her voice cracking.

Leine’s heart squeezed tight and she stopped, waiting for Elise to relax her grip.

“It’s all right, Elise. I’m coming right back.” She nodded at Santa. “That’s Santa. He’s one of the good guys, I promise.”

Elise studied the detective, who was now rubbing Julia’s legs and feet, trying to restore circulation.

“I’m going to get water for you and a blanket for your friend, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, releasing Leine’s arm.

When Leine returned with the pickup, Elise’s complexion didn’t appear as colorless as it had before, although she had a long way to go before she normalized.
She’s crashing,
Leine thought. She handed a blanket from Herrera’s truck to Santa and her own jacket and a bottle of water to Elise.

“How many girls does Garcia keep at the ranch?” Leine asked, checking the cuts on Elise’s legs and feet.

Elise took a sip of water and wiped her mouth.

“All of them, I think. I’m not sure.” She stared into the dark night.

Leine cleared her throat and she refocused.

“There were close to thirty girls in the room where I slept,” she said. “There might be more, I don’t know.”

“Thank you, Elise. Sit tight. We’ll be on our way in a couple of minutes.”

Leine motioned for Santa to follow her. He finished wrapping Julia in the blanket and walked around to the side.

“The mass grave has to be Otero’s handiwork,” she said, indicating the arroyo in front of them.

They walked closer to the bodies, shining flashlights on the gruesome scene before them.

“They’ve been gutted,” Santa remarked.

“The clothing is similar to what Elise and her friend are wearing.” Leine closed her eyes as a curtain of weariness descended over her. “Looks like this is where they dumped the bodies of the girls who were no longer useful.”

“Jesus,” Santa breathed. He shook his head and slid his phone out of his pocket. “This is the end of Garcia and
El Rancho del Maestro.
”

Leine studied the grisly scene before her, taking it in, letting it settle deep in her bones.

I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.

H
errera was able
to expedite Leine’s and Elise’s trip back to Los Angeles, while Julia formally requested asylum. Gunderson and Nabokov were on their way to the federal detention center where she was being held to secure her release. Santa drove back to Los Angeles early the next day.

Elise was immediately put under protective custody at an undisclosed private hospital. Dick Bennett rushed to Elise’s side as soon as he learned of her rescue. Belinda Bennett couldn’t be reached.

The lacerations on her back and feet were healing, and Elise insisted she was ready to go home but soon learned that the transmitter would need to be surgically removed from her arm before her release.

Leine arrived at the hospital about an hour after Elise’s father. Dick Bennett appeared gaunt with dark circles under his eyes. His clothes looked as though he’d slept in them for a week. When Leine asked how he was doing, he shook his head.

“The stress is unbelievable. The IPO’s happening tomorrow, ready or not. I’m just relieved you found her.”

“Where’s Mom?” Elise asked.

Dick smiled and reached for her hand. “She’ll be here soon, baby. Promise.”

When the nurse came in to check her vitals, Leine and Dick Bennett walked out to the hallway to allow them privacy. He leaned against the wall and sighed. The policeman assigned to security stepped a discreet distance away.

“Where is Mrs. Bennett?” Leine asked.

Dick Bennett shrugged. “I honestly can’t tell you. I’ve been at the office working around the clock. I tried her cell, but she’s not picking up. I left a message, so I’m sure she’ll be here soon.”

“I’m sure she will,” Leine replied.

He spoke of how he was going to take the time to be a better father, really listen to Elise, get involved in the high school and all her activities. Leine wondered how that would be possible, now that he was obligated to investors.

Not your problem, Leine.
She remained silent, allowing him his moment, hoping he meant what he said.

When the nurse was finished, Leine said her goodbyes to Elise and Dick and went out to her car.

It was time to confront Belinda Bennett.

***

Leine drove the last mile up the curving canyon road and parked in the shade beneath a tree near the Bennetts’ driveway. Careful to avoid the camera, she slipped through the open gate. The green light she’d noticed on her first visit now glowed orange.

The gate combined with the security camera’s orange indicator light gave her pause and she drew her gun. The entrance to the Bennetts’ driveway had been open on her prior visit because they’d been expecting her, but at that time the green light indicated the security camera’s normal operation. An orange light generally meant there’d either been a technical failure or a manual override.

Either whoever was inside the house had taken the security system off line, or Belinda had been expecting someone and didn’t want a record of the visit. Neither of which boded well.

As she neared the top of the drive, she recognized Belinda’s black Mercedes parked next to the ’61 Ferrari she’d seen the last time. Both vehicles were near the entrance. Like before, the garage door leading to the lower level under the home was open.

An unfamiliar SUV took up residence at the other end of the drive. At first she didn’t see anyone nearby. As she drew level with the Mercedes, a tattooed man with a shaved head wearing a gray T-shirt appeared at the garage entrance and started up the driveway toward her. Leine dropped to a crouch behind the car.

A slight breeze kicked up and she glanced behind her. The leaves shading her car danced in the wind, the sunlight glinting off the windshield.

Can he see that?
She turned back.

There was no sign of him, but the front door of the SUV was open.

Shit. Where the hell did he go?
Leine quickly slid the suppressor from her side pocket and screwed it on as she scanned the area. Something flashed in the Mercedes’ outside mirror and she turned. The man was coming up behind her in a crouch, his gun out.

Leine pivoted, tracking his approach in the mirror. When he drew level with the back window, she fired.

The bullet carved into his forehead and he staggered, crumpling to the ground. Sprawled on his back, his sightless eyes stared at the brilliant California sky.

It was the same man she’d seen in the photograph with Zamir.

Leine waited a moment to be sure no one else had heard the discharge and then evaluated her options. Gaining entry was her first priority.

She followed the walk to the entrance and tried the front door. It was locked. She considered using the burglar tools in her pocket but decided instead to try an alternative. Skirting the dead gunman she followed the driveway into the garage under the home.

As she suspected, a stairway as well as a small elevator led to the upper level from the garage. Leine sprinted silently up the stairs and tried the door leading into the house. It was open. She eased into the hallway.

Listening to the rhythm of the air conditioning and other typical house noises, Leine eased past a laundry room and small bathroom, and paused near the entrance to the kitchen.

Satisfied she was alone, Leine proceeded through the living area and slipped down a long corridor that led to the back of the house. Angry voices floated toward her from a room at the end of the hall. She edged closer, her footsteps silent against the marble tile.

“You’ve run out of options, Belinda,” offered the cool voice. The man’s accent pegged him as one of Zamir’s associates. “Now that your daughter is safe, I have no recourse but to extract my payment from you and your husband.”

“You must do as he says, Mrs. Bennett, or he will kill us both.” Teuta’s desperation came through loud and clear.

“It can’t be undone,” Belinda Bennett’s voice cracked. “They already have the information. After tomorrow, Zorbane will control the company.”

“I don’t care about your husband’s fucking IPO. I care about the formula, and you have access.”

“No, I don’t. Dick keeps the password for the system on an encrypted website. His partner has the second password, and you need them both. If anyone attempts to obtain the information without the two-step verification process, the files will disappear. You have to believe me, Ivan.”

“He will do anything you tell him to do. Your death is too high a price for his silence. Call him.”

“Mrs. Bennett,
please
…” Teuta sounded on the verge of tears.

“Take the Ferrari, Ivan. It’s worth millions,” Belinda pleaded. “I’ll pay you the rest, I promise.”

“Your promises are worthless.” Ivan scoffed. “The car would not even be a down payment.”

Leine inched her way toward the open door. A crescent-shaped steel desk was visible to her left. The reflection from a glass-fronted painting on the far wall showed Ivan with his back to the door.

“We will see how you feel when your body struggles for air.”

“No—stop! What are you—”

The sound of tape ripping told her Ivan had grown tired of talking. Belinda’s muffled protests were soon drowned out by rustling plastic.

Leine went low and moved silently through the doorway into the room. Belinda sat at the far end, her wrists and ankles duct taped to a chair with her back to a gas fireplace. Ivan was in the process of securing a dry cleaner bag over her head. With each shallow breath the thin plastic shrank in size, conforming to the contours of her face, revealing her distorted, panicked features, and billowed out with each exhale.

Teuta had been taped to another chair next to her employer. She watched Ivan, her expression a mixture of fear and anger. The housekeeper’s eyes widened in surprise as Leine stood up and sighted on the back of Ivan’s skull. Alerted by Teuta’s sharp intake of breath, he turned.

Ivan dropped to the floor as Leine pulled the trigger. The bullet pierced the wall above the fireplace. Leine tracked him, firing as he dove for cover behind a nearby sofa. He grunted and his gun clattered to the floor.

She crouched down and peered under the sofa. Ivan lay lengthwise on the marble tile, stretching for his gun. Leine emptied her magazine into him.

“Mrs. Bennett! She is dying,” Teuta cried, straining at the tape around her wrists.

Leine closed the distance between them and ripped the bag open. Belinda gasped, sucking in gulps of air.

“Thank God you’re here,” Belinda wheezed. “He was going to kill me.”

“What the hell did you think would happen?” Leine asked. She stepped behind the sofa to make sure Ivan was dead. There was no pulse. Leine returned to the two women and slid her knife from the sheath attached to her leg. 

“Ivan was a friend of Dick’s business partner—”

Leine bent to cut through Teuta’s restraints. “Zamir Ristani? You need to choose better associates, Belinda.”

“I’ll have you know, Zamir has connections worldwide.”

“Had, you mean.”

Leine felt Teuta stiffen. She glanced sharply at the housekeeper. “You knew Zamir?”

Teuta relaxed and shook her head. “Only from Bennetts. They say he is-was good man.”

“Yeah. Not so much.” Leine finished cutting through Teuta’s restraints and straightened.

“Aren’t you going to free me?” Belinda asked, frowning.

“Are you aware that your daughter has checked into a private hospital?” Leine asked her.

“Where is she?” Belinda Bennett struggled against the tape. “Let me go. I need to see her.”

Teuta rose from the chair, her movements stiff, and crossed to the sofa to look at Ivan’s dead body.

“I’m sure you’ll get to see her soon.” Leine brought out her phone. “But first, I’m going to call a friend of mine and see what they want to do with you. Can’t have you leaving the country now, can we?”

There was a flash of movement in her periphery and she turned.

Teuta held Ivan’s gun in her hand. Leine dove behind the chair. Bullets sliced through the air, the rounds shredding the room around her. Ears ringing, Leine rolled onto her side and rose to one knee, her knife in her hand.

Teuta ducked behind the sofa, moving too quickly for Leine to hit her.

What the hell? Why is Teuta trying to kill me?

“It’s over, Teuta. Ivan’s dead.” She reached above her to see if Belinda had a pulse. Her hand came away slick with blood.
Correction. Why is Teuta trying to kill Belinda?

“He was vicious man. You have done favor for world.”

“Ivan was your boss, is that it?” Leine asked, peering around the side of the chair to get a bead on the housekeeper.
Teuta must have been spying on Elise for Ivan. That’s how he knew she was in Tijuana.
A slice of shadow on the wall indicated she was using Ivan’s body for cover.

“I have no boss,” she said, her voice dripping disdain. “He was employee who did not follow instructions.”

“You mean when he kidnapped Elise?” Leine scanned the room for better cover. A coffee table with a marble top stood a couple of feet behind her.

“When he sold her. It was then I knew he make irreversible mistake. Otero will never give her up. We lost bargaining power.”

“So your concern for Elise was an act?” Leine asked.

“A spoiled child,” she said, contempt littering her words. “Just like her mother.”

Leine wiped the perspiration from her forehead with the back of her hand and slid her pistol from her waistband. She ejected the spent mag and snapped in fresh ammunition from the side pocket of her cargo pants. Her old rib injury throbbed and blood from the gunshot wound stained her shirtsleeve. Again.

Goddammit. When this is over, I’m taking a month off.

“Well, Teuta, it looks like we’re at an impasse. What do you want to do?”

There was the sound of shuffling, followed by a pause. “I do not wish to kill you, Leine Basso.”

“That’s awfully kind of you, but I’m sure you can understand that’s a little hard to believe at the moment.”

Another pause. “We are two of a kind, you and I. You work for me, yes? I pay very, very well.”

Seriously?
Leine thought.
What is this, a fucking job interview?
Leine eyed the coffee table and calculated how long she’d be exposed if she turned it over to use for cover. If she could keep the housekeeper off balance, she thought she might make it without becoming target practice.

Depending on how good a shot Teuta was.

“I’m flattered, Teuta. But I’m afraid I’ve already got a job.” Working for her was right up there with being on North Korean leader
Kim Jong-un’s payroll. Leine popped from behind the chair and squeezed the trigger, peppering the sofa with bullets. Return fire zinged past her from the right.

Leine lunged behind the table, pushing it onto its side.

The shots hadn’t come from where she’d expected. The housekeeper had moved.

You’re losing it, Leine. When the hell did she change position?