Snake Eyes (The Masks Series Book 3) (4 page)

Caitlyn

Since opening up to Eric, I felt free. My nerves scuttled into hiding and the idea of moving in with him and my friends had me soaring. Nicole and I started packing on Wednesday, which gave us plenty of time to get organized before the boys turned up on Saturday morning to help us.

I decided to let my parents know about the move after I’d moved in. I figured the money they put towards my dorm room could just as easily be transferred to rent. Nicole had already checked it out and because we were leaving so early in the school year, we were entitled to a refund. With the rent being split amongst the four of us, it was actually going to be quite doable. The plan was falling into place perfectly, and Saturday morning couldn’t come fast enough.

Heading up the stairs, I walked towards my room, planning on fitting in an hour of concentrated study before Nicole showed up and we could get on with a little more packing.

Although I didn’t feel like studying, I was determined; I wanted this weekend to be school-work free and that meant a little sacrifice now. I could do it.

Swinging my door open, I dumped my books on the desk, unzipped my bag, looked at my bed and screamed.

“What the hell!” I placed my hand on my chest, my heart ready to explode.

The long, lean woman sitting on my bed snickered, tucking a lock of short, straight hair behind her ear before raising her sharp eyebrow at me. Everything about her was pointy and mean...just like I remembered.

“Agent Kaplan, how did you get in here?” I sucked in another lungful of air, my heart rate toying with the idea of returning to normal.

She uncrossed her long legs and leaned forward, gazing at me with those steely eyes of hers.

“I can pick locks, sweetheart. Now sit down.” She flicked her head at my desk chair.

I hesitated, running my fingers over the wood until her eyebrows rose and I couldn’t shrink away from her emphatic look fast enough. I lifted my bag off the chair, perching on the edge of it and trying not to be put off by this powerful woman.

Wrenching off her mask didn’t help at all. This woman had no vulnerabilities. She was cold like steel, all the way through. I shoved her mask back into place, preferring the slightly milder version of what I was seeing.

Kaplan gave a short nod, happy with my compliance before her eyes scanned the room. She lifted her chin towards the box of books behind me.

“You going somewhere?”

“I’m moving in with some friends of mine.” I scratched my cheek, not wanting to say too much. “They live a few blocks from campus. A room’s just opened up, so...” I shrugged.

Kaplan cleared her throat and leaned back, her eyes narrowing. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen.”

“Excuse me?”

“I need you living in the dorms.” She pointed to Nicole’s bed. “Quite convenient that your feisty little roommate’s moving out, though.”

My heart jerked to a stop, a tight anger pulling at my muscles. I gripped the seat of my chair. “You can’t tell me where to live. I’m going in two days.”

“Caitlyn.” She sighed. “I need you for a job and in order for you to do that job well, I need you to stay in the dorms.”

Clenching my jaw, I forced air in through my nose, worried I’d pass out if I didn’t. This could not be happening again.

“I don’t work for the FBI,” I finally managed between my locked teeth.

“You will for this project. You’re the best fit for the job.”

Damn it. She couldn’t assume I’d just jump at her beck and call. So I’d done one sting operation; that didn’t make me her employee!

“I’m not staying here.” I swallowed, meeting her iron gaze.

“Yes, you are and here’s why...” She reached behind her and grabbed a stack of manila folders. With a little flick, they landed on the desk beside me.

Not wanting to look but knowing she wouldn’t leave unless I did, I flipped the top file open. Gazing back at me was the headshot of a beautiful girl with fine brown hair and a mousy grin, her big hazel eyes dancing. She looked in her mid-teens.

“Who is this?”

“Her name is Angela Redding, and she’s been missing for fourteen days.”

I went still.

Kaplan edged down my bed so she was sitting closer to me. “Look at the next file.”

I pulled out the next one and flipped it open. A girl who looked slightly younger than Angela with light mocha skin and big brown eyes gazed at me. A luscious waterfall of ebony hair cascaded over her shoulder and the soft smile on her lips told me she was as sweet as pie.

“That’s Rowena Murphy. She’s only thirteen years old and she went missing three weeks ago.” She reached across me and pointed to the rest of the files. “Natasha Burns, aged 12; Felicity Newman, 15; Serena Townsend, 13; Melanie Harper—”

“Okay, stop.” I ran my finger down the stack, estimating at least ten files.

I shuddered, closing my eyes and squeezing my temples.

“They’re all missing, Caitlyn. All snatched away within the last three weeks, and I need to find them.”

“Where do you think they are?”

“We’re not sure, but I have a lead I want to follow. That’s where you fit in.”

My head snapped up, bile surging in my throat. “Does your boss know about this?”

“He’s given me permission to follow this lead, and I need an undercover girl who can get access to the man I want.”

Fear coiled up my spine, wrapping invisible tentacles around each vertebrae. What the hell was she expecting me to do?

“Who is he?” I managed.

“His name is Diego Mendez. We’re pretty certain he has ties to the Mexican Cartel. We tried to pin him for drug trafficking a couple of years ago, but nothing stuck. Every time we go after this guy, he comes away clean. I need enough to get me a search warrant. If I can just get into his place, I know I’ll find something.”

I swallowed at the venom in Kaplan’s voice. Pulling her mask free, I finally glimpsed something different. Her eyes were dark with unspoken agony... an old wound buried deep, maybe? Pure hatred for this guy was driving her on this one. She wanted him, bad...and this time around, the case had nothing to do with her one hundred percent success rate and everything to do with this man. I wondered what he’d done to her.

“And how am I supposed to help you do that?”

“His daughter starts UCLA this year. I need you to befriend her. That’s our in.”

“I don’t—”

“You have a special ability, Caitlyn,” she snapped. “Don’t waste it. With your gift of sight, you could be the best damn undercover agent we’ve ever had.”

“I nearly screwed up your last operation.”

“Your boyfriend nearly screwed it up. We got our guys thanks to you, and I need your help again.”

“I’m only nineteen. I have absolutely no training. I can’t do an undercover operation for the FBI.”

“Think of this as a one-off, ‘under the table’ type case. The only people who know you’re working it are me and my team. They’ve been sworn to secrecy. And as for training, your ability—”

“I can’t do it!”

“Caitlyn.” She sighed, her voice taking on a soft quality I wasn’t used to. “These girls...”

“Are probably already dead. The news said it was a serial killer.”

Kaplan pursed her lips, lifting her eyebrows with a nod. “The news is wrong. I don’t think they’re dead. I think they’re being sold.”

I felt like my insides were going to lurch out of my throat. I clenched my jaw, trying to swallow the lump restricting my airwaves.

“Human trafficking doesn’t exist in the States. That’s an Asia thing, isn’t it?”

“Are you really that naive?”

My face crumpled and I could feel the tears brewing.

“They’re beautiful girls, Caitlyn, and there are a bunch of sick men out there who want them.”

I glanced up, catching that look again, that raging agony.

“They need someone to follow this lead. They need someone to find them before they’re sold across the border and we’ve lost them for good.” She stood from my bed, straightening her jacket. “Right now, you’re the best chance they’ve got.” She placed a business card on my desk. “I’ll leave the files with you for twenty-four hours. Don’t show them to anyone. This is a private matter.”

Clearing her throat, she walked to the door. “You have my number. I need your answer by tomorrow night.”

With that, she flicked back the door and left.

Shock immobilized me for I don’t know how long. It wasn’t until my phone dinged with a text that I finally jerked out of my stupor.

It was Nicole.

Running late. Will be there in thirty to keep packing. Squee!

I threw the phone on my bed, unable to reply. My eyes traveled back to the files. I’d have to hide them before Nicole got back. Running my fingers down the stack, I randomly pulled one free and flipped it open.

My breath evaporated as I stared at the image of a stunning girl who looked similar to Eric’s little sister, Lacey. The very idea of her being taken and sold to some vile creature made me want to wail. Tears burned my eyes as I placed it on the top and pulled the stack into my arms. Hugging the files against me, I sniffed at my tears.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?

Caitlyn

Sleep was impossible. I tossed and turned until well after midnight, begging for sleep to capture me, but it didn’t play fair.

I knew the right answer. I knew what I had to do and it seemed insane that I was fighting this decision, but I was, because I didn’t want to.

Going along with Kaplan would hurt my friends. I’d have to lie, pretend, make up one excuse after another, not to mention be on full alert the whole time around this girl I was supposed to befriend.

It would mean reading people again and having to keep pulling back layers even when I saw the bad stuff.

Plus, Kaplan would make me lie to Eric; that was a certainty, and I’d promised him I’d never do that again. He was the kind of guy who needed the truth.

This assignment would be horrendous on so many levels. Any logical, normal person would tell Kaplan she was crossing way too many lines involving me in this and she could take a long walk off a short pier.

But not me.

Because I wasn’t normal.

I’d hidden the files in my backpack. They were heavy, but easily mistaken for textbooks when Nicole moved the bag to get beneath my bed.

We’d pottered around most of the evening, pulling pictures off the walls and gathering up the last of our things. I moved like a snail, something Nicole noticed rapidly and tired of just as fast. In the end, she gave up and went to take a shower. I sat on the bed like a dummy until she returned, pasting on a breezy smile and blaming tiredness for my behavior. She bought it and we'd both headed to bed early.

I was grateful Eric had been out surfing. He’d have taken one look at me and known straight off I was lying. It was going to be damn hard to hide this from him.

I cringed. Would it be the end of the world if I let him in? Would Kaplan let me do that?

Covering my face, I dug my fingers into my forehead, wanting to unleash a scream, but I couldn’t. Nicole was asleep and I’d rather die than wake her. Softly flinging back the covers, I inched out of bed, pulling a pair of loose sweats over my boxer shorts, snatching up my backpack and easing out of the room.

The air outside was warm and thanks to my flat chest, I could easily get away with walking around campus in my pajama tank top. Thankfully it was plain black. If I did bump into anyone at this late hour, they probably wouldn’t even notice.

I headed to the 24-hour McDonald’s down the street, knowing their Wi-Fi was pretty good. I bought myself a coffee and headed for a booth in the back corner.

Flipping my laptop open, I selected my favorite search engine and typed in:
Angela Redding.

Because of her recent disappearance, it wasn’t hard to find the right news article. I read through it then followed several more links, my eyes watering as I took in her parents’ desperate pleas. The short, local news clip I watched showed the girl’s mother and younger brother crying at the camera, their wobbly voices pleading for someone to find their bubbly ray of sunshine.

As much as it killed me, I then went on to look up Rowena Murphy. I stumbled across a Facebook campaign, begging for information on the girl. She was a straight-A student and had just started her Freshman year at Arcadia High School in Phoenix, Arizona. I didn’t have complete access to her Facebook page, but her profile shot and cover photo were gorgeous. I could immediately tell she was a quiet, thoughtful girl with a passion for nature.

I gulped down another mouthful of coffee, trying not to choke as I imagined what was being done to her right now.

My fingers were shaking as I opened the next file and took in the picture of the Lacey look-a-like, Janey Templeton. She was from Southern California, had been born and raised in San Diego, not far from where Eric’s grandfather lived. She’d been snatched on her way to school, and her disappearance hadn’t even been noted until third period due to a glitch in the system. The school’s apologies were falling on deaf ears as her parents tried to come to terms with the fact that their only child was missing.

Reports and speculation varied across the board. The serial killer story seemed to be sticking, but the disappearances spanned across four states - California, Arizona, New Mexico and Nevada. To me, it seemed unlikely a serial killer would travel that far, not that I knew anything about that kind of thing. Who knew how accurate those cop shows were, because they were my only experience with this kind of crime.

I wished they were my only experience with
any
kind of crime.

My shoulders twitched as I relived the gun being pointed at me by Professor Hoffman last year. If the FBI hadn’t busted in the door when they did...

I pinched my bottom lip and gazed at the screen. Janey’s open smile was so innocent and sweet.

If Kaplan was right, the girl would never smile that way again, because she’d be sold and hurt and her innocence would be ripped from her. Even if we did find these girls, they’d still be damaged. How did you recover from being snatched against your will and locked away somewhere?

My breaths grew short as my imagination took off again, picturing one horrifying scenario after another, hearing the girls’ terrified screams as they were dragged into a darkened room.

Slamming my laptop shut, I spread my fingers over my computer, fighting for air. Leaning my forehead against my hands, I felt the scream work up my body, desperate to break free.

“Miss, are you okay?”

I sat up with a jerk, scaring the McDonald’s attendant.

“Yes.” I forced a shaky smile. “Sorry.”

Snatching up my things, I shoved them into my bag and threw it onto my shoulder, keeping my eyes on the floor as I left the fast food eatery.

I burst out the glass doors and sucked in two big lungfuls of air.

A trash can stood five feet away. I was tempted to shove my bag, with all the information I didn’t want to know, straight into that thing, but I couldn’t.

The truth was, I could run as hard and as fast as I wanted. I could walk, I could drive, I could fly out of this city, but I would never be able to escape what I knew...unless I did something to stop it.