The Body Market: A Leine Basso Thriller (3 page)

T
he SUV raced
along the gravel road, jarring Elise’s head into her spine. She braced herself against the rear wheel well to keep from being bounced into the ceiling. The driver whistled while he drove as though he were out for a leisurely road trip, not kidnapping somebody.

And that was what Elise told herself was happening. She refused to think about Josh, concentrating instead on her remaining shoe. She’d have to see if the store would be able to match the one she lost. Her dress was ruined, too. There was a six-inch rip up the side, and a whole section of tiny, pear-shaped crystal beads was missing. Tears of frustration brimmed in her eyes. She’d only wanted to have fun like everyone else.

Monday morning she was so going to ream Josh’s ass for wanting to go to that party.

Josh is dead, Elise.

The thought jolted her at the same time the SUV hit a pothole, throwing her against the side of the cargo area.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force away the image of Josh’s head exploding in a mass of blood, bone, and brain.

He couldn’t really be dead. That only happened in the movies.

Or the news.

Why didn’t they keep him alive?
His father was worth at least as much as her parents combined. And, both his mother and father loved their son, so they’d willingly pay a huge ransom. She didn’t know how her parents would respond when the kidnappers issued their demands. Sure, they’d probably pay, but what if they kept asking for more? Her father was a hard-assed negotiator. He’d boasted on countless occasions that he never gave in to extortion or unreasonable demands. Her mother wasn’t much different.

What if he was going to rape her?
Elise curled her hands into fists; her throat squeezed tight in terror. Maybe that was why he hadn’t killed her yet. Her hands started to shake and she dug her fingernails into her palms.

Calm down, Elise.

She tried to do the breathing exercises she learned in yoga class, but it only worked for a minute. Soon, she found herself sucking in short breaths as she fought the panic building in her chest.

She risked a glance at the driver, staying low in case she caught his attention. He appeared to be younger than she’d first thought, giving Elise a brief flicker of hope. Maybe she could bribe him, promise him that if he let her go, she could get him a reward. Just as she was working up the courage to speak, the SUV slowed to a stop.

Elise looked out the window to see why they stopped, but they were in the middle of nowhere and it was pitch dark. He’d pulled over for some kind of animal sitting in the road, illuminated by the headlights. No longer whistling, the driver shifted into park, turned off the ignition, and got out, leaving the door open.

He walked slowly with his hand out, palm up, and speaking in a low voice, toward what Elise realized was a dog. The animal bared its teeth and flattened its ears, emitting a low growl.

Galvanized into action, Elise used the diversion to find a way to escape. With one eye on the man and the dog, Elise tore at the rubber mat beneath her, searching for something she could use either as a weapon or a tool to break out of the vehicle.

Nothing.

She’d already combed through the small space for a door handle or a release on the wire cage that separated her from the rest of the SUV, but the rolling prison was solid. She removed her remaining shoe and lay on her back with her feet angled toward the seat, and kicked as hard as she could. The seat back didn’t budge.

She glanced through the windshield to make sure the driver’s attention was still on the dog before trying to kick out a small side window. The power of her five-foot-three-inch frame was no match for the safety glass, and she gave up when she saw the driver turn back toward the vehicle with a dark expression on his face.

The dog hesitated a moment as though trying to decide whether to follow. The man reached into his pocket and tossed something. The canine dipped its head down, sniffed the object warily, and ate whatever he’d thrown. Nose sniffing the air, the animal watched him intently, waiting for more. The man patted his leg, motioning for it to come.

“Don’t come back. Not yet…” Elise whispered as she ran her hands along the edges of the back window, hoping to find a gap in the weather stripping, or something else she had missed in her earlier search.

“
Vamanos,
” he said to the animal and threw something onto the front seat. The dog’s nails clicked against the running boards as it scrambled into the SUV and wolfed down the treat on the console. The man got in and shut the door. The mongrel stayed on the passenger side, watching the driver, a low-decibel growl resonating from its throat.

The brief glimpse Elise got of the dun-colored animal revealed short hair and a stocky body like a pit bull, but with a narrow head, similar to a Doberman. Angry scars ran along its face and neck, as though it had been whipped or beaten, or used in a dogfight.

“Aren’t you afraid he might bite?” Elise stammered in Spanish, hoping to at least have the man acknowledge her. Three years of Advanced Placement language classes were finally coming in handy.

Without a word, he shifted into gear and continued driving.

Elise wiped the perspiration from her forehead and leaned against the cage, threading her fingers through the wire to stay upright.

“Looks like he has a collar. Does he belong to someone you know?” The dog cocked its head toward her. She still held out hope that the driver would at least talk to her. Anything was better than being ignored.

Instead of replying, the driver held another treat out to the dog. The dog sniffed at his hand and then snatched the food, chewing as though it hadn’t eaten anything in a week.

Hot tears brimmed in her eyes and spilled onto Elise’s cheeks. She slumped back against the side of her cage and buried her face in her hands.

Why didn’t I just have Brittany pick me up at the border?
Despair descended on her like a thick, soggy blanket, and she found it difficult to breathe. Elise’s imagination latched onto a recent article she’d read about unsuspecting women being abducted and tortured by serial killers, never to be seen again.

Don’t think like that, Elise. He didn’t kill you. There’s something he wants that you have.

She didn’t want to think about what that might be.

L
ou Stokes greeted
Leine at the front door of SHEN. An operative for Leine’s former employer, when Lou reached retirement age, he’d decided to end his association with the secret government agency and created the anti-trafficking organization. She’d been working for SHEN ever since she’d rescued Mara, a twelve-year-old girl who’d been abducted and sold to the highest bidder by a now-disbanded trafficking network. The bidder happened to be a well-known Hollywood producer who was currently doing time in a federal penitentiary. The sentence wasn’t nearly harsh enough in Leine’s opinion, mainly because it didn’t include castration.

The relief of having rescued the shipment of human cargo at the port in Mexico the week before was short lived. Leine knew only too well it was just a drop in a massive sea of trafficked victims. On a positive note, she’d had the satisfaction of reuniting Amy with her older sister, Selena, a woman who had been abducted by the same group. The rescue had been a victory for SHEN and anti-traffickers everywhere. Still, Leine tried to remain realistic about the cases Lou assigned her. Most victims of trafficking were never found.

“The girl’s parents are in room one,” Lou said as they walked past reception and through a set of glass doors. “Their housekeeper, Teuta Vercuni, is with them. Apparently, the Bennetts didn’t have any idea their daughter was in Mexico until the girl’s best friend called them.”

“Have they notified police?” Leine asked.

Lou nodded. “And the FBI. Since the parents believe the abduction occurred in Mexico, ICE is reaching out to the authorities there, but until there’s a ransom demand or some other evidence of a kidnapping, there’s only so much they can do.” He paused at the door to the hallway leading to the interview room. “There’s a possibility the daughter ran away.”

“Why do you say that?”

Lou opened the door, allowing Leine to walk through first. “I’ll let the parents tell you.”

They continued down the hall to interview room one and walked in. A woman in her late thirties sat at one end of a rectangular table while an older woman, presumably the housekeeper, sat across from her. A man closer in age to the younger woman stood at the other end of the room, his pacing interrupted by their entrance.

“Dick and Belinda Bennett, Leine Basso,” Lou said as he closed the door behind them. He nodded at the older woman seated at the table. “Teuta Vercuni works as the Bennett’s housekeeper.”

Leine stepped forward, her hand extended. Belinda Bennett’s fingers were cold and smooth and her handshake brittle. Dark circles ringed her eyes, as though she hadn’t slept the night before. With her platinum blonde hair styled in a long, inverted bob and a no-nonsense expression on her tanned, Botoxed face, she gave Leine the impression of a woman used to being the boss. The ice-white designer suit and expensive, avant-garde jewelry added to her refined air.

In contrast, the callouses on Teuta Vercuni’s fingertips belied the soft, grandmotherly feel of her palm. The housekeeper had pulled her steel-gray hair back in a conservative bun and wore nondescript tan slacks paired with a blue and white knit shirt. Worry etched her face, and a deep frown line separated her gray-blue eyes.

Dick Bennett ignored Leine’s hand and came to an abrupt halt.

“Is she qualified?” he asked Lou. Tan and fit with classic good looks, Dick Bennett commanded the room. He wore an untucked designer polo shirt with a pair of fitted trousers and expensive loafers. Hands in his pockets and leaning forward he looked as though he was standing at the bow of a ship, heading into the wind.

“One of our best,” Lou offered by way of explanation.

“Your best what?” Belinda Bennett’s crisp tone serrated the room. Leine turned to face the ice queen.

“I get results.”

“Her recovery rate is the highest of our agents,” Lou added.

Belinda Bennett inclined her head in acknowledgement.

“What makes you believe your daughter’s been abducted?” Leine asked.

Belinda glanced at Dick who was now on the other side of the room, his arms crossed. He nodded.

“We’re here at the recommendation of our attorney,” she said. “He suggested we try all avenues in case Elise was…” Belinda’s voice faltered and her eyes grew moist. “She’s a straight A student. Very popular, of course.” Lou grabbed a box of tissues from a filing cabinet and held it out to her. She took one and used it to dab her eyes.

“Of course,” Leine said.

“Teuta believes she ran away with Josh,” Belinda said with a dismissive wave toward the housekeeper. “Elise would never do that. She was too grounded.”

The housekeeper seemed to want to say something but instead looked down and kneaded her hands. Leine turned her attention to the older woman.

“And you believe otherwise?” she asked.

“Eliseka run away with handsome boy in nice car,” Teuta said, her lower lip extended. “She tell me everything in heart.” She touched her chest, a knowing expression on her face.

Belinda Bennett gave a derisive snort. “I sincerely doubt that, Teuta. Elise had plans beyond marrying the first boy who caught her eye.” She turned to Leine. “You see, Ms. Basso, Elise has always been focused on attending college and eventually earning an MBA from either Harvard or Stanford.” She gave Teuta a withering stare. The housekeeper’s jaw was set in a stubborn line.

Interesting dynamic,
Leine thought
.

“Mrs. Bennett,” Leine said, “did Elise ever mention Josh? Did it appear that their relationship was getting serious?”

A slight frown crossed her features for an instant. She shook her head. “She mentioned him in passing. Hardly the stuff of a heady, ‘I’m going to elope to Mexico’ kind of thing.”

Leine looked at Lou. “Has anyone spoken to the boy’s parents?”

“They’ve filed a missing persons report, but that’s all I know at the moment. For what it’s worth, they don’t believe the two of them ran off together.”

Belinda Bennett crossed her arms and glanced at Teuta with an
I told you so
look. Dick Bennett came around behind Belinda and put his hands on her shoulders. Belinda glanced up at him with a grateful look and touched his hand.

“Josh received an expensive car for a graduation present. Teuta mentioned that he was driving it when he picked her up for their date,” Dick said as he kneaded Belinda’s shoulders. “The police said it’s possible they were victims of a carjacking.” At that, Belinda began to cry softly. Dick bent down and murmured soothingly into her ear.

“Do you have a picture of your daughter?” Lou asked.

Belinda nodded and reached inside her bag. She pulled out a five-by-seven photograph in an elaborate frame, which she handed to him. He looked at it and gave it to Leine.

It was a portrait by a well-known photographer and showed a pretty platinum blonde with brown eyes smiling into the camera, wearing lip gloss and light makeup. She wore strapless ensemble and a set of tasteful diamond earrings with a matching necklace.

“Do you remember what she was wearing when she left the house?” Leine asked Teuta.

She nodded. “Her favorite dress.” She turned to Belinda. “You know the one. White with crystals, yes?”

Belinda nodded. Fresh tears threatened to fall. “We bought it on a mother-daughter shopping trip to Singapore.”

Pain raking his face, Dick stopped rubbing Belinda’s shoulders and bowed his head. Belinda took a deep breath and dabbed at her eyes again.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that the trip was one of the last happy memories we have of Elise.”

“Were you and she having trouble?” Leine asked.

Belinda took a deep breath. “Elise is…difficult.”

“How so?”

“Oh, you know, typical teenager angst,” Dick quickly cut in. Belinda didn’t offer additional comment.

“May I keep this?” Leine asked, indicating the photograph.

Belinda and Dick Bennett both nodded. “Yes, of course.”

“So what’s next?” Dick asked.

“We’ll circulate Elise’s picture and description to our contacts worldwide,” Lou replied. “Leine has several sources she uses when searching for missing children, as well. If anything at all comes to our attention, we’ll be in contact with you immediately. In the same vein, if the law enforcement agencies you’ve contacted find out anything, we’d appreciate you letting us know.”

“Of course. Thank you.” Dick turned toward Leine, this time offering his hand. “And thank you, Leine. I appreciate your help in finding our daughter.”

Lou opened the door to the hallway, and the three of them got up to leave. As Teuta filed out behind the Bennetts, she grabbed Leine’s hand and clutched it to her chest.

“You must find my Eliseka, Mrs. Basso,” she said. “She is much too young to marry. Besides,” she glanced at Mrs. Bennett’s retreating back, “Mrs. Bennett could not live with herself.”