A Trace of Vice. Блейк Пирс
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Kevin. One last thing – I’m going to send you cell phone numbers for both girls. I’m betting the GPS was shut off in both of them but I need you to track their last known location before that happened,” she said as the men came to a stop in front of her. “I’ve got to go. I’ll get back to you if I need more.”
Keri hung up before he could respond and slid the phone into her pocket. Along the way, she inconspicuously unsnapped the holster of her weapon.
Glancing at the men but not saying a word, she still leaned against the car but lifted her right leg so that her foot rested against the vehicle. That way she would have extra power if she needed to propel herself forward.
“Evening, gentlemen,” she finally said in a firm, friendly tone, “a little nippy out tonight, don’t you think?”
One of them, clearly the alpha, sniggered and turned to his friends. “Did this bitch just say it was nipply?” He was Hispanic, short, and a little paunchy in the face, but his bulky flannel shirt hid his frame, making it hard for Keri to tell what she might be up against. The other guys were both tall and skinny with the shirts hanging off skeletal frames. One was white and the other was Hispanic. Keri took a moment to appreciate the racial diversity of this particular street gang before deciding to exploit it.
“You guys letting white boys in these days?” she asked, nodding at the odd man out. “What? Hard to find enough brown-skinned members willing to take orders from you?”
Keri didn’t love playing this card but she needed something to create division among them and she knew a lot of these gangs were very particular about membership requirements.
“That mouth is gonna get you in trouble, lady,” the Alpha hissed.
“Yeah, trouble,” repeated the tall white guy. The tall Hispanic guy remained silent.
“You always go around repeating what your boss says?” Keri asked the white guy. “You pick up any trash he drops on the ground too?”
The two men glanced at each other. Keri could tell she’d hit a sore spot. Behind them, she saw that Ray had gotten the photo of Lanie and was walking back toward them. The two remaining guys by the Corvette started to step in his direction but he gave them a sharp glare and they stopped in their tracks.
“This bitch is rude,” the white guy said, apparently unable to come up with anything more clever.
“We may have to teach you some manners,” Alpha said.
Keri noticed the tall, quiet Hispanic guy with them tense up at that. And suddenly she understood the dynamic among these three. Alpha was the hothead. White was the follower. Quiet was the peacemaker. He hadn’t come over to join in any trouble. He was trying to prevent it. But he hadn’t found a way in yet and that was partly Keri’s fault. She decided to throw him a lifeline and see if he’d use it.
“You two twins?” she asked him as she nodded at White.
He looked at her for a second, clearly unsure what to make of the comment. She gave him a wink and the tension seemed to seep from his body. He almost smiled.
“Identical,” he answered, taking the opening.
“Yo, Carlos, we ain’t twins, man,” White said, not sure whether to be confused or angry.
“No, man,” Alpha jumped in, temporarily forgetting his anger. “Bitch is right. It’s hard to tell you two apart. We need to pin some tags on you, right?”
He and Carlos laughed and White joined in, although he still looked perplexed.
“How we doing over here?” Ray asked, startling all three of them. Before they could get riled again, Keri jumped in.
“I think we’re good,” she said. “Detective Ray Sands, I’d like to introduce you to Carlos and his twin brother. And this is their dear friend…what’s your name?”
“Cecil,” he said willingly.
“This is Cecil. They like Corvettes and chatting older ladies up. But unfortunately, we’re going to have to leave you to the car repair, gentlemen. We’d like to stay, but you know how it is with LAPD – always working. Unless, that is, you’d like us to stick around and discuss manners a little more. Would you like that, Cecil?”
Cecil took a look at all 230 pounds of Ray, then back at Keri, seemingly unruffled by his insults, and apparently decided he’d had enough.
“Nah, it’s aight. Y’all go on and do your LAPD thing. We busy with car repair, like you said.”
“Well, you guys have great night, okay?” Keri said with a level of enthusiasm that only Carlos noticed bleeding into mockery. They nodded and headed back to the Corvette as Keri and Ray got in their car.
“That could have gone worse,” Ray said.
“Yeah, I know you’re still not a hundred percent from that gunshot wound. I figured I shouldn’t get you involved in an altercation with five gang members if I could help it.”
“Thanks for looking out for your invalid partner,” Ray said as he pulled out into the street
“Don’t mention it,” Keri said, ignoring the sarcasm.
“So did Edgerton have any luck with the social media stuff?”
“He did. We need to go to Fox Hills Mall.”
“What’s there?”
“I’m hoping those girls,” Keri said, “but I’ve got a feeling we aren’t going to be that lucky.”
CHAPTER FOUR
The second Sarah woke up, she felt like she needed to vomit. Her vision was blurry and so was her head. There was a bright light shining down on her and it took a second to realize she was lying on a threadbare mattress in a small, otherwise nearly empty room.
She blinked a couple of times and her eyesight cleared up enough for her to see a small plastic garbage can lying on the floor beside the mattress. She leaned over and pulled it to her, retching into it for a full thirty seconds, ignoring her watery eyes and even more watery nose.
She heard a noise, looked in that direction, and saw that someone had pulled back a black curtain to reveal that she wasn’t actually in a small room at all. She was in a cavernous warehouse. As far as the eye could see, there were other mattresses. And on almost all of them were girls her age, all scantily clad or naked.
Some were alone, either sleeping, or more likely passed out. Others were with men, who were having their way with them. Some of the girls struggled, others lay there helplessly, and a few didn’t seem to even be conscious while they were being violated. Sarah’s mind was foggy but she guessed there were at least twenty girls in the warehouse.
Someone stepped into view. It was Chiqy, the huge guy with the long beard from Dean’s room. Suddenly, Sarah’s head cleared and the observational distance she’d felt while taking in her surroundings disappeared. Her heart began to pound and she felt a creeping terror take hold of her.
Where am I? What is this place? Why do I feel so weak?
She tried to sit upright as Chiqy moved closer but her arms collapsed under her and she slumped back onto the mattress. That made Chiqy chuckle.
“Don’t try to get up,” he said, “the drugs we gave you make you clumsy. You might fall and break something. And we can’t have that. It would be bad for business. Clients prefer that if any bones get broken, they’re the ones doing it.”
“What did you do to me?” she demanded hoarsely, trying to sit up again.
Before she knew what was happening, Chiqy backhanded her across the face, knocking her back onto the mattress and sending an explosion of pain from her cheekbone to her ear. As she gasped for air and tried to regain her equilibrium, he leaned over and whispered in her ear.
“You gonna learn, little miss. You don’t raise your voice. You don’t talk back unless a client wants it. You don’t ask questions. Chiqy in