VANISHED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Edgars Family Novel) (22 page)

“No. I’m saying they left a trail that only she was smart enough to find—at this time.” He stopped right beside her, forcing her to look up at him. “What I’m also saying is that was probably the first mistake they’ve made. Had your friend not found it, they would’ve gotten more arrogant and started making more blatant and obvious mistakes.”

“Like the burned, murdered women,” Aaron said, drawing Luke’s attention.

Luke nodded. “Right. You would’ve eventually seen a pattern in the investigation you started before we arrived.”

“But how many women have already been enslaved? And how many more would’ve been taken or murdered before then?” The edge in the detective’s voice spoke of the controlled anger and frustration they were all feeling.

Luke pulled out a chair, turned it and straddled it. “Let’s not go there. Luckily, we’re here now and on their trail.”

“And hopefully that means no more innocent women will fall prey to their vile plans.” Abigail laid her hand on Aaron’s arm, squeezing it then releasing it when Luke made a pointed stare at her. She tried to shove down the little feminine imp inside her that wanted to fist pump like a quarterback hitting his man in the end zone at Luke’s jealous reaction to her act of sympathy. Never in her life had a man reacted to anything she did, much less in such a possessive manner. The feeling was…
exhilarating
. Now she understood why Brianna had spent so many years getting men to act like idiots over her.

“Which brings up something we’ve not done yet,” Luke said as if nothing had just passed between them.

“What’s that?” she asked, willing her mind to focus on the case and not just Luke.

“We need to profile our victims.”

“Why? You know everything I know about them,” Aaron said.

Luke nodded at him. “True. We know their statistics, but I want to know their psyche—what made them take the plunge into on-line dating, risk the chance of meeting someone in person.”

“You’re going to make up a fake profile,” Abigail said, almost reading the scheme rolling around in his head.

He grinned at her and for the first time ever it didn’t irritate her. “You got it, sweetheart. Let’s see if we can draw these guys out.”

“So where do we start? The only victim we really know is Ms. Mathews,” Aaron said, “and she’d not our typical target.”

“True. But I think we have an untapped source to reveal some of the thought processes these women might’ve been going through to put themselves in such jeopardy.”

“Who?” Aaron said and Abigail could’ve kissed him because she knew who Luke meant.

“Me,” she said.

“You? You wouldn’t need a dating service any more than your friend did.” The detective looked so incredulous, she couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Thank you, but Luke’s right. I do know exactly how they’d feel. I’ve been there.” She sobered. She’d been so lonely on more than one occasion she’d browsed the different sites, some of them on the very list she’d made from Brianna’s URL history. But her own prudent nature kept her from ever filing her information.

“You’re right, Jeffers. She doesn’t need them now or
ever
again,” Luke said and the heat in his gaze warmed her clear to her core “But I suspect you can tell us how the missing women might have been thinking. Am I right?”

Damn him. He knew how desperate she’d been. Then she looked into his eyes and saw something warm and understanding there. He knew and he didn’t judge her.

Something flipped in her chest—like an on switch—and warmth spread throughout her.

Her height had always intimidated men, but not Luke. Her photographic memory she’d kept hidden, but Luke discovered it and accepted it. Loneliness had been with her all her life, Luke not only understood it, but knew they could use the experience to save Brianna and other women. How could she not love him?

“Abby?” Luke laid his hand on hers and the concern in his voice brought her out of her reverie.

“Yes. I’ve been in that mindset before. What do you want to know?”

Luke turned her hand beneath his so they were palm-to-palm. “What would our girl, let’s call her Mary, what would make her join one of these sites to begin with?”

He was asking her to bare her darkest moments. Taking a deep breath, she let her fingers curl around his hand. She could do this.

“Mary would’ve always been a loner, the geeky girl no one invited to parties, never dated in high school and maybe only a few times since then. Even other girls didn’t include her into their group.”

“Except her best friend,” Luke said squeezing her hand.

“Yes, though if she had a best friend she probably wouldn’t be so desperate for companionship or love as to try these services.” She stared into his hazel eyes, wanting him to realize she wasn’t just looking for Brianna because she was missing, but because she owed her so much.

“So loneliness is motivating them to put their lives at risk?” Aaron said.

She broke the mental contact with Luke and nodded at the detective. “That and hope.”

“Hope?” Aaron truly sounded perplexed.

God bless the man. He was so clueless.

“Hope that out there in the great unknown is someone meant for them. Someone who will love them for what’s inside them. Someone who will want to spend time with them, talk with them, ease the loneliness.” She inhaled slowly and blinked to keep any tears from forming. “They’re also curious.”

“Curious?” Luke turned his head at a tilt. “What are they curious about?”

“How the process works. Who might respond.
Will
anyone respond? What will they talk about? Just the possibilities of that kind of interaction is enough to push some women into putting all their personal information on the internet.”

“Okay, I can buy that,” Aaron said. “But what makes them decide to meet a stranger in real life. They have to be smart enough to read all the reports of stalkers using the internet to rob, rape or murder people.”

“I imagine whoever answers their posts taps into their need and desperation,” Luke said, releasing her hand. “They’d lay on the charm, probably working on them slowly, maybe even acting as shy as they are to gain their trust.”

“Like a con man who reads the faces of their marks, convincing them it’s their idea for the meeting.” Aaron said, understanding in his eyes.

“And because the women think they’ve suggested the meeting, they think they’re in control and nothing bad could happen to them, only the men trick them into meeting them at a place where they can get them alone…” Abby looked from Luke to Aaron and back again.

“Then poof, they’re gone.”

Luke stood and paced the length of the front room, letting his mind see the puzzle pieces. With Abby’s help they’d figured out how the men were preying on the women, but which site would be the best on which to post his fake Mary’s profile.

“We don’t have time to look at all the sites the women might’ve frequented. We need our Mary to be quickly hit upon.”

“There were three sites that the five girls missing from this area used,” Abby said, pulling up the list. “In about half the cases I read I saw at least one of those sites listed.”

“But which one is the one they’re using?” He ran his hand through his hair. The need to do something ate at him.

“What if they’re using more than one site?” she asked.

He stopped pacing and shook his head. “I don’t know. That might be too variable for them. This group is powerful. They’d want to be in control of every detail. My bet is they’re running whichever site they’re using to troll for the women.”

“I think Abigail might have a point,” Jeffers said, standing to pace, too. “It’s like being a fisherman.”

“Fisherman?” What the hell was the detective talking about? He eyed the man with the look he’d learned from his brother Dave, the one that said,
are you crazy
?

Jeffers stopped and held out his hands like a professor teaching a class. “They’d cast a wider net. A good fisherman realizes he can’t catch all the fish in one place without it playing out and depleting the source. He studies the stream and the fish, learning their feeding habits, their breeding habits, what spots attracts the fish more frequently and at what times of the day.”

Of course
. “They know the kind of women they want, so they troll those sites they would visit. Probably in the early evenings or late at night just before bed.”

“Times when the women would feel loneliest or want some sort of human contact,” Abby said. Then a delicate blush filled her cheeks and she looked away.

“What is it?” he asked, wondering what had her turning so rosy.

She shook her head, suddenly concentrating on her computer screen again. “Nothing. Just a stupid thought.”

“Sweetheart,” he said, walking over and slipping his hand under her chin. He lifted until she was meeting his gaze once more before he released her. “I’ve learned the hard way that nothing you think could be termed as stupid.”

“I was just thinking maybe they might even convince the women to participate in cybersex.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “See, I told you it was stupid.”

He stared at her a moment, realizing she’d cut right to the reason the women were so willing to go meet their mystery men. Slowly he smiled at her, then, cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her, slow and deep. When he lifted his lips from hers, he was rewarded by the wide-open gleam of her emerald eyes and her pink lips still slightly parted. “No, it wasn’t stupid. It’s brilliant. You’re brilliant.”

“The women participating in cybersex is brilliant?” Her brows drew down and all the soft glow of her passion dissolved into confusion.

Jeffers plopped back down in his chair. “You’re right. Why didn’t I see that all along?”

“Because you were looking for a serial killer not mass kidnapping,” Luke said.

“What are we talking about?” Abby asked.

Luke straddled the chair once more. “You figured out why the women were so willing to go put themselves in harm’s way with a total stranger, sweetheart. They’d been chatting with the men on line, slowly letting their guard down. Until—”

“Until they’d had cybersex.” Abby, pale, finished the sentence. “The women were seduced into believing they’d found that someone special and trusted the men. They weren’t meeting strangers. They thought they were meeting their lovers.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Castello parked his car off the road almost a mile past the entrance of the address he’d gotten from Paolo. After talking with the caterer about who had hired him he’d learned two things. The group was hiding behind the name The Titan Club, and all the details, including payment, were handled through a corporation, which he suspected led to layers of more corporations.

He’d also decided that before he met with Luke and the others it might be a good idea to get a lay of the enemy’s territory.

A hedgerow hid him from anyone passing by this late at night. He studied the map of the area on his smartphone. When the department first issued it, the new technology drove him crazy, but he learned some of the features like maps and GPS made his job easier at times, like tonight.

Luke’s phone call yesterday made him mildly curious about what the kid had gotten himself into, and he’d headed up from Columbus to check out the situation. Like he’d suspected, if an Edgars male got intense about something, a woman in distress was usually at the root of the problem—but neither he nor Luke had expected this pile of shit the pair had stepped into.

Before Frank had left the condo to take Kirk F to work, Luke had pulled them and Jeffers aside to explain why he was trying to keep Abigail’s name out of any official reports. The kid suspected her missing friend had information sensitive to the case but before she could hand it over to Abigail she’d been taken by the slavery ring. If she gave up the information or who she might’ve spoken to, Abigail was in serious trouble.

Now that he’d seen Luke with his woman, he planned to do everything to help keep her safe. Reconnaissance on the possible auction house, gather intel, even call in the other brothers if necessary. So, first things first, time to scope out the security in this place.

He set the phone on silent and slipped it into his pants pocket, then grabbed the PVS-14 night vision scope he kept in the trunk. It seemed every time he was on a fugitive hunt lately it was at night. Might as well have the scope close by. Tonight it would come in handy for scoping out the grounds of The Titan Club.

The Titan Club
.

Figures they’d named themselves after Gods. Nothing subtle or timid about this group. It also meant they weren’t afraid to not only kidnap women, but sell them as cattle, which made the group dangerous.

The idea of women being abused and used as sex slaves ate at his gut. To think someone thought they were above the law and could blatantly get away with the crime set his blood to boiling.

Lips pressed tightly together, he inhaled and exhaled.

Once he was calm and focused again, he climbed out of the car, locking the door manually. No need for an electronic beep to announce his presence. He just hoped the place didn’t have guard dogs. Man, he hated guard dogs—had since a shepherd tried to take out his leg while he closed in on a fugitive meth cook.

He checked to be sure no traffic was headed his way before stepping out from the cover of the bushes. With a quick jog back towards the estate, he watched for the spot where the wrought-iron-topped stone wall gave way to chain-link behind the hedgerow. When he came to it, he scanned the area with the night scope to be sure no cameras were in the vicinity. Seeing none, he slipped the scope into his jacket pocket and wiggled his body in behind the hedge, cursing when a loose branch scratched his face. He reached up, broke off the offending stick and pocketed it. No need to leave behind his blood for DNA testing should someone suspect he’d infiltrated the estate.

The chain-link fence was at least eight feet tall and wedged in tight to the stone wall. Reinforced with rebar.

Shit
. No way was he scaling that then dropping down the other side. Last thing he needed was to break a leg on private property without a warrant.