Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series) (11 page)

BOOK: Forever Alexa (Book Four In The Bodyguards Of L.A. County Series)
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Jackson recognized a personal vendetta when he heard one. “That could take months, even years. What does that mean for Abby and the other victims?”

“It means were working our asses off to get them home.”

“But not until Zachary Hartwell takes the fall.”

“I’m doing the best I can here, Mr. Matthews. We’re all doing the best we can. I’ll keep you up to date with any new developments.”

“Thank you, Detective.” Jackson hung up and scrubbed his hands over his face. “What a fucking nightmare,” he muttered. Kidnapping to murder to sex trafficking. If this latest development in Abby’s case was the road they would be traveling, it was bound to be long and ugly. If Abby was still alive, she was going to be a mess when they found her—if they found her. The call had been made north of Baltimore an hour ago. She could be anywhere by now.

He stood, wanting to talk to Ethan and begin formulating a plan, but it was late. First thing in the morning he would start making his calls. He wouldn’t be leaving Abby’s fate in Detective Canon’s hands. Jackson read between the lines just fine. Abby and the other young women weren’t on his list of priorities unless they were going to help him bring down the Mid-Atlantic sex ring, which was highly doubtful. Abby was taking a backseat to politics and pretty promotions. That wasn’t acceptable.

He twisted off the gooseneck lamp and started down the hall, carrying the snoring puppy. How was he going to tell Alex? How could he get her hopes up with news that Abby might be alive only to dash them with the rest?

He turned into his room and laid Mutt on the small bed he’d made out of a couple of spare blankets. Mutt gave him a half-hearted tail wag before he rolled to his back and went to sleep. “You definitely have the right idea,” Jackson muttered as he stood and pulled off his shirt, tossing it across the room in the general direction of the hamper. Abby’s situation was bad, as bad as it got, but his hands were tied for now. He needed access to Ethan’s fancy computers before he could do anything more.

Yawning, he sat on the edge of his bed, ready to rest his exhausted mind. A few hours of sleep for everyone would only help in the end. He settled himself against the pillow and closed his eyes until Alex’s sniffling and unsteady breaths registered. He got up and walked across the hall. “Alex?”

“I’m okay. Go ahead and get some sleep.”

Her words came out in between tearful shudders. She was anything but okay. Sighing, aching for her, he made his way to her side of the bed and sat down. “I was hoping you were going to get some decent shut-eye.”

She sat up, sniffed again, and pulled a tissue from the box by the side of the bed. “I tried. I dozed off for a while. She swiped the tissue over her damp cheeks and blew her nose. “Is this real, Jack? Is Abby really gone?”

He closed his eyes in defense against her shattered gaze. How the hell should he answer? He needed to tell her. It was better to get it over with. “I talked to Detective Canon.”

Alex tossed the tissue in the trash.

“He shared some interesting news.”

She paused as she reached for another tissue. “What did he say?”

“Alex.” He took her hand. “There’s a chance…” He blew out a breath. “There’s a chance Abby’s still alive.”

She clutched his fingers in a vise grip. “What?”

“Detective Canon and a team of Federal Agents believe Abby might be alive.”

“Detective Canon told you she’s
alive
?”

He nodded, watching her struggle with disbelief. “Could be.”

“I don’t understand. How? I heard them kill her. Her screams just stopped. God. God.” Her lip wobbled, and she pulled her hand free to cover her face. “I can’t stop hearing her scream. I think that alone might destroy me.”

He moved closer, wrapped his arm around her slumped shoulders, and pressed her head to his chest. “I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry I’m messing with your emotions like this.”

“I don’t know what to do anymore. I can hardly breathe. I have such a heavy weight on my chest. I keep replaying the phone call—that computer voice, the creepy laugh, the silence.”

His arm tightened around her as he struggled to find a way to tell her the rest. Clenching his jaw, he looked at the ceiling. “They don’t have anything conclusive one way or the other, but evidence from the scene of the trace is pointing to her being alive.”

She looked at him again. “I don’t understand.”

“The cops were able to triangulate a signal from the call. Detective Canon said Baltimore PD and the FBI rushed to the location—a reservoir north of Baltimore. They found the cell phone, some tire tracks, and footprints.” Now the part he’d been avoiding. “They brought in search and rescue dogs and picked up Abby’s scent but lost it.”

“So how can they say she’s alive?”

He fisted his hand at his side. “The cadaver dogs they brought in followed the same trail and did a search of the area. They didn’t alert to human remains.”

Alex flinched as a tears spilled down her cheek.

He desperately wanted to take her pain away. “That’s a good thing, Alex. As morbid as it sounds, that’s really, really good.”

“They could be wrong.”

“Or they might be right.”

“I can’t… I can’t let myself believe.”

“This is a lot to take in.” And there was so much more.

She stared into the dark for a long time. “They were hurting her. If she’s alive, they’re hurting her.”

He kissed her hair and pulled her tighter against him. How could he possibly describe to her what Abby was probably living through? “We’re going to do everything we can to find her.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know.” He brushed his fingers through her black, silky hair. “Tell me about the van that took Abby.”

“I told the detectives everything.”

“But you haven’t told me.”

“There’s more, isn’t there? What else did Detective Canon say?”

He’d stalled as long as he could. “Do you remember the van that followed you on the interstate?”

“Yes. They found the van?”

“No, but three other young women were pulled into vehicles similar to the one that drove off with Abby. The vans have been different colors each time, but all of the victims were grabbed the same exact way.”

“The similarities the detective kept talking about but wouldn’t expand on…”

“Exactly. One of the teens that was taken before Abby has been spotted in some pretty rough areas of Baltimore and DC. At strip clubs.”

“Strip clubs?”

“Yeah.” He was making this so much harder by trying to protect her from the truth. “Alex, Abby may have been kidnapped by traffickers.”

“Traffickers?” She frowned. “Drug traffickers? Abby doesn’t do drugs.”

This was worse than he thought. Alex was so naïve. “Sex traffickers. They steal young girls and boys, young women….and use them as sex slaves.”

Horror filled her eyes as she stared into his, shuddering out each breath. Color vanished from her face in the pale glow of the bathroom light. “No.”

“Detective Canon—”

“No.” Alex scrambled from the bed, ran to the bathroom, and shut the door.

Jack rushed to his feet and gave a quick knock against the wood. He stepped in without bothering to wait for a response. Alex sat on the lip of the tub and stared at the tiled floor as tears coursed down her cheeks. He walked to her and knelt before her.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Take some deep breaths.”

She attempted one, then shook her head. “Detective Canon’s wrong. He has to be. I don’t know which thought is harder to live with—Abby dead or Abby suffering.”

“I’m sorry, Alex.”

“I just don’t understand any of this. Sex trafficking and strip joints. Ransom calls… If they didn’t kill her why did they want me to think they did?”

“People eventually stop searching for the dead. The police have their hands full with the living.”

She clenched her hands. “I’ll never stop searching, Jack. Never. I won’t stop until I find my sister.”

“If she’s out there, we’re going to bring her home.” He had to believe it. He needed Alex to believe it too.

She met his eyes as tears fell faster and her breathing grew shaky again. “I—” She shook her head as she began to weep. “I’m so lost. I feel desperate, like I’m going to start screaming and never stop. I feel like I’m breaking into a million pieces. I love her so much; I can’t stand the thought of someone violating her.”

He pulled her to the floor and sat her in his lap as he leaned against the tub. “I wish I could take this away. I wish I could make it better. If there was anyway…” He rested his chin on her head and breathed in wildflowers and vanilla. “Let me help you. Let me help Abby. Tell me about her days before they took her.” He rubbed her back as she fought to steady herself.

“What do you want to know?” She tried to sit up.

He held her where she was, tucked against him, safe, her cheek resting on his naked shoulder. He continued to trace gentle circles over her slender back. “Give me a rundown of her last six months. What did Abby do for fun?”

“She didn’t really have time for fun.” Alex’s voice was dull as she played with the hem of the white shirt she wore, exposing more of her smooth, slender thighs. “She’d been so busy getting ready for the fashion show her design class had three weeks ago. Abby’s creations are amazing. That’s how she lined up the job interviews in LA. Everyone loves her stuff. Her clothes are so chic and fun. They’re so…Abby. We didn’t talk a whole lot, just here and there when she wasn’t at the studio or running from class to class.”

He rubbed his cheek along her soft hair. Alex’s fingers stopped fidgeting, and her body finally relaxed against his. “Was she dating anyone?”

“No. As I said, she was pretty obsessed with making her big splash in the fashion world. She was thinking ‘now or never.’ She mentioned going to dinner a few times with a photographer she knew.”

“What’s his name?”

“Who?”

Her voice grew groggier by the minute. He wanted her to sleep but needed her answers. “The photographer.”

“Abby called him Renzo. She never said a last name, just Renzo.”

“How often did they go out?”

“I think a couple times, maybe four or five. He travels often. I remember her saying that. She said they had a lot in common, but I never got the impression they were serious.”

“Renzo,” he repeated as he stared at the bathroom sink. The modeling and fashion world was often targeted by traffickers. He’d start with Renzo and see where they ended up. “Did she ever tell you where they went on their dates?”

“No, I don’t think so. Nothing’s coming to mind. As I said, it never seemed serious. They were just friends—at least that’s the impression I got.”

Alex’s head rested heavily on his shoulder as her breathing evened out. He wanted to sit here, just like this, holding her while she would let him, but that wasn’t what she needed. “You need to rest, Alex. You need to sleep.”

“I can’t.”

“Let’s try.” Jackson got to his feet, bringing Alex with him. He settled her on the mattress and covered her as he sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a small smile. “Close your eyes.”

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be okay.”

It was starting. She was already pulling back. “Just for a couple minutes.”

“Olivia will be up soon.” She took his hand, squeezed. “Go sleep, Jack.”

She didn’t want him there, but he wanted nothing more than to stay. With no other choice, he stood. “I’m right across the hall if you need me.”

“I know.”

He held her gaze for another moment, then walked from the room.

 

Chapter 8

A
lexa gave herself another pass in the mirror. She’d done her best with her makeup and hair, even though her heart wasn’t in it. Hopefully the fitted, dark blue, sleeveless sundress she’d unpacked two weeks ago was dressy enough for an afternoon wedding.

She smiled at Livy twirling round and round in her pale lavender and white striped dress. Her shoulder-length golden curls flowed about with her constant motion. She hadn’t realized she’d packed this outfit of Livy’s in her rush to flee the house all those nights before.

Twelve days had passed since the kidnapper’s last call. Twelve long, agonizing days had crawled by while she waited for news of a sighting of her sister—or her sister’s body. The police phoned Jack a week ago with news of a woman’s size seven shoeprint found at the scene by the reservoir—Abby’s size—and tire tread consistent with a large SUV, but that was all the information they had. There were too few answers when so many questions remained.

“We should put on your sandals, Livy. We have to go.”

Jack tapped on the doorframe. “Hey, you ready?”

“Yes, I guess so.” He was so handsome in his light gray suit and tie. The pale shade brought out the boldness of his baby blues and accentuated his muscular build. Alexa had done her best to ignore his looks over the last two weeks. She’d struggled to remain unaffected while she and Livy shared his home.

The days weren’t so much the problem. His job kept him swamped and stuck in his office. It was the evenings, when the three of them sat down to dinner—as if they were a typical family, or when they walked the beach or went to the park so Livy could play. Their current arrangement was too much like the dreams she used to weave on lonely nights. In the moments when his smile made her heart beat too fast or his sweet, humorous ways made their daughter laugh, Alexa would remember the frigid night in February not so long ago.

But recalling painful memories didn’t always help. Although four years had changed Jack, so many pieces of him remained the same. He was still kind and funny and everything she had ever wanted, but admitting so was foolish and one step down a road she could never travel again. She wouldn’t be letting her guard down around Jack anytime soon.

He frowned. “You guess so?”

She shrugged and gave him an apologetic smile. “I don’t think I’ll be very good company today. Are you sure you don’t want to give Evelyn a call? Perhaps she’ll reconsider.” Guilt still plagued her, knowing she’d caused Jack unhappiness.

“Alex, we’ve already been through this—several times.”

“I know, but I feel terrible.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“But I do. Why don’t
I
call her? I’ll explain that I have no intentions of trying to steal you away. Livy and I can stay at a hotel close by. You still might be able to work this out.”

“It’s done.”

“I—”

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