VANISHED, A Romantic Suspense Novel (Edgars Family Novel) (30 page)

No!

Abigail wanted to scream. She wanted to pull her weapon, hold it to their heads and demand they take her to Brianna. But she didn’t know how many men were in the room with her friend. Dylan for sure, and quite possibly the cameraman. If she caused a scene before they located Brianna, someone could warn them and they could kill her.

Instead, she gripped Luke’s hand tightly as he led her from the room.

They had to do something. Somehow they had to gain access to the upper portion of the mansion.

Suddenly, she stopped and turned into Luke’s body, draping herself over him like a cat in heat. Luke didn’t miss a beat, but caught her tight up against him.

“What is it Ms. Whitson?”

“Master, I
need
you,” she said as seductively as she could and just loud enough for Hollister to hear her from the doorway.

“You need me?” Luke leaned back to stare into her eyes.

Desire coursed through her at the heat in the depths of his intense gaze. She parted her lips and licked them slowly, rubbing against him slightly, her nipples hardening in the thin material covering them. “Yes, Master. Seeing that…that woman. It was so alluring.”

“Sounds like your girl needs a little extra training on self-control, Mr. Edgars,” Hollister said, approaching them.

Luke let out a sigh worthy of a long-suffering parent. “Unfortunately, Ms. Whitson does need training reinforcement upon occasion. The sooner the better, or she regresses. I don’t suppose I can ask you for the use of a private room. I don’t think she’ll wait until I’ve gotten her out of here.”

“Of course, we have some secure rooms above.” Hollister led them over to a bank of elevators, slipping a pass key similar to an electronic hotel key into a slot, then handing the key to Luke with another leering look over Abigail, who was busy nibbling on Luke’s ear as they entered the elevator. “Pick any room on the second floor. The key will work on them except my private corner suite. Return the key to me when you’re finished.”

Once inside the elevator, Abigail opened her mouth to explain to Luke why she’d acted that way.

He grasped her head between his big, warm hands and claimed her lips like a Viking warrior plundering a defenseless village.

* * * * *

Erie One cut its engines and drifted close to the shore about fifty yards from the estate’s dock and the five yachts moored there.

Dave and his team of National Guardsmen slipped over the edge of the boat and quietly waded onto the shore. They split into three teams and slowly approached the dock. Two armed guards stood on one side, talking quietly in the shadows, their backs to the lake. Two more paced the pier from the dock up to the house and back.

Using hand signals, Dave instructed one team of his men to take out the two stagnant guards first and another to ambush the other two guards as they neared the more shadowed end of the pier.

His men were good. One by one the slave ring’s guards went down with no more than an
umph
of expired air and not one discharged weapon or alarm sounded. A couple of minutes later two of his men assumed the position of the downed guards in the shadows to prevent anyone coming to see what was wrong.

“
Dock secure,”
one of them said in the walkie-talkies.

Dave took the remaining men and headed towards the first yacht. Time to prevent the loss of a victim or any chance of an escape by water for these slimeballs.

* * * * *

As the elevator rose Luke didn’t release his hold on Abby’s head or relinquish the near brutal pressure of the kiss. He let the anger over all those brutalized women, especially Abby’s friend and the frustration at losing her in the obviously fixed auction, drive his barely leashed passion. The fact that it was Abby and that they were on a case with hidden cameras probably on them, kept him from making the elevator ride a more sensual one.

The discreet ding of the elevator door let him know they’d arrived. He released Abby and taking her hand led her into the hall. Pulling her close as they walked, he whispered a warning in her ear. “No talking. Cameras and mics.”

Stopping a few feet from the elevator, he surveyed the hall. Six rooms, three on each side. “Look, Ms. Whitson. We have our choice of six rooms,” he said loud enough for both any hidden mics to pick up and his own team to be aware of the situation. “Which would you like?”

Abby giggled. “Master Luke, you always know the right one to choose.”

Damn, she was way too into her character.

Slipping his arm around her waist, he pulled her with him to the nearest door. “Then we’ll take the first one. I wouldn’t want you cooling down while we checked them all out.”

He slid the key card into the slot. The green light to signal it unlocked flashed and he quickly ushered Abby inside, slipping a shoe off to prop the door open slightly. Before she could ask any questions, he laid one finger against her lips.

“As tantalizing as the bit of voyeurism was to you downstairs, Ms. Whitson, this is going to be an exercise in self-control,” he said, slowly moving around the room. “So I hope our hosts don’t mind, but I’d like to not have this filmed.”

He studied the dresser across from the four-poster bed identical to the one Brianna had been strapped to. There it was. A tiny camera discreetly hidden among the silk flower arrangement. And yes, a second stationed just under the base of the lamp. Standing tall, he pulled off his suit coat and draped it over the entire desk, being sure nothing could record through the black material.

“And since this is all about my control over you, we’ll have to gag you to keep you from making any noise,” he said, hoping whoever was listening on the other side of the cameras would believe the scenario he’d just set up.

Sitting on the bed he motioned Abby to come sit beside him, letting their listeners hear the bed creak a few times. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “We have to get out of here to check the other rooms. But not just yet. I have a feeling Master Lee will come up and collect his property himself which may save us some effort, so let’s give it a few minutes. Get your weapon out and have it ready, okay?”

She nodded, slipping the purse from her shoulders. Taking her weapon out, she laid it on the bed beside her. Her eyes slightly wide as she anticipated the coming actions, her lips still puffy from the elevator kiss, she was a tempting vision. One he couldn’t resist. He cupped the far side of her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheek and leaned in for a gentler kiss. One to warm and reassure her.

“We’ll find her, sweetheart,” he whispered, staring deep into her green eyes. Her gaze one of trust. A trust he’d do everything to keep.

Something shifted hard in his heart.

Mine.

For this woman,
his
woman, he’d do anything.

“
Okay, Luke,”
Jake said in his ear.
“We’ve got the perimeter set, the women are safely tucked in with Katie and Matt. Castello’s coming up the stairs. He said the senator and Master Lee’s group are in the elevator.”

Luke walked to the door, pulling his shoe out, but keeping the door slightly open. With his finger on his lips he reminded Abby not to speak. She wiggled on the bed to keep the pretense of someone on the bed for the microphones he was sure still listened.

The elevator ding barely sounded across the hall. As the doors opened, he eased the room door together until the smallest crack possible remained when they passed it.

“You will be able to take her out of the country as soon as possible?” Senator Klein said as the group passed the door.

“My yacht will be more than capable of having her in Canada and then we’ll board a plane for my island before morning,” Master Lee said in a clipped Asian accent.

After the group passed their door, he opened it enough to watch their progress all the way to the end of the hall and the door on the opposite side from their room. He motioned for Abby to join him. She jumped on the bed for a few more creaks, letting out a moan, then hurried over, her gun in hand and pointed at the floor. Easing the door open as the one down the hall closed behind the group, he pointed to the room where Abby’s friend was more than likely being held. She nodded that she understood. Silently, he slipped his shoe back on, then opened the door.

Time to save Brianna.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

“Time to wake up, slut.” Dylan’s voice sounded just before someone slapped her face hard.

Brianna tried to move away, but her arms were chained or something above her head. She opened her uninjured eye to peek at him. He looked so handsome in his tuxedo with the neatly tied bowtie.

Why was he hitting her again? He’d been so nice to her before.

Before what?

They’d been in the bed. He’d been loving, putting salve on her cuts, kissing her, making love to her, even as he asked her questions. Questions about the flash drive. About the Abbey. He thought it was a church. She hadn’t corrected him. When she’d refused to talk about it, he’d gotten mad and smacked her.

Then there was a pinch. Things had gone dark, like she’d been drifting down into a deep cavern. Now he’d bound her hands, trapped her, and was hitting her again.

“Why?” she whispered over her sore, cut lips.

“Why do you need to wake up?” He slapped her again. “Because I told you to. You’re leaving now.”

Tears burned in her good eye and an ache started in her chest—hope that this ordeal was finally ending. That she’d been right and somewhere inside Dylan Klein was a sliver of love for her, enough that he would take sympathy on her plight. “I’m going home?”

He laughed harshly as he leaned in close. “Wrong, whore. You’re going with your new Master.”

Grabbing her by the hair on the top of her head, he forced her to look to the far side of the bed. There stood an Asian man in a tuxedo similar to Dylan’s. He had salt-and-pepper hair and finely manicured fingers, with gold rings on them and a gold watch on his wrist. Sophisticated and rich. The kind of man who’d always attracted her attention. Only when she looked into his eyes, cold dread snaked up her spine.

Lust.

Not the kind she’d seen in other men’s eyes for her beauty. No, he was focused on her injuries. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. The desire in his eyes promised pain, even more than she’d already suffered. He’d break her, then throw her away, like yesterday’s trash.

Swallowing hard, she tried to look back at Dylan. “Please…” she whispered over her parched mouth and lips.

“What did you say, bitch? Speak louder.” He pulled her head back, arching her neck, but finally letting her see him again.

In his hand he held a knife.

He wanted her to beg. Okay, she’d beg. Anything to keep from going with the dangerous man at the bedside.

“Please…” She swallowed again, forcing her voice to gain strength. “Please don’t,” she begged as loudly as she could.

* * * * *

Footsteps sounded on the steps near the elevator. Abigail turned so her back was to Luke as they progressed toward the door where they suspected Brianna was being held. She raised her gun arm slightly in case she needed to take out whoever was coming up on their flank.

Castello stepped into the hallway, followed quickly by Jeffers. She let out the breath she’d been holding, gave them a slight nod, then turned back to follow Luke as quietly as possible.

Holding up his fist to signal them to stop, as he pressed his ear up against the door.

She stood just behind his shoulder, straining to hear what was being said inside. A loud male voice was all she could make out, not what was being said. If that room was as huge as the one she and Luke had been in up the hall, the bed was too far away for them to make out actual conversation.

Was Brianna in there? Was she still out from the drugs?

They heard something being smacked.

Luke motioned for Castello to stand on the far side of the door. When she moved to join the Marshal, Luke pulled her back behind his hip. Jeffers flanked her, his back to them as he kept his gun trained down the hall. Luke pointed at Castello, then at the door, and held up three fingers.

Frank nodded.

Luke looked back over his shoulder at her and held up three fingers. Frank would kick in the door on a silent count of three and they were all going in.

She nodded, relaxed the hands on her gun then gripped it tighter.

“Please don’t,” Brianna screamed on the other side of the door.

Abby surged forward, but Luke held her back. With a pointed look at her he reached up and tapped his ear bud three times, then spoke into his wrist phone. “Utah, Utah, Utah.”

The signal they were ready.

“
Omaha, Omaha, Omaha,”
Jake said in their ears.

Luke held up one finger.

She exhaled.

Two fingers.

She inhaled and tightened the grip on her weapon.

Three fingers.

Castello’s boot heel slammed into the door just above the knob, shattering the wood and forcing it open.

“Federal agents!” Luke yelled as he was first in the door, with Castello right behind him. Abigail came in third with Jeffers on her heels.

“Drop the knife!” Luke said, coming up behind Dylan Klein, who dropped the knife on the floor.

Castello had his weapon drawn on the bodyguard who had his hand in his suit jacket. “Ease that gun out slowly, big fella, and drop it on the rug.”

“How dare you. This is a private home,” Senator Klein blustered from the far side of the room.

“And you’re all under arrest for human trafficking, Senator,” Luke said as he secured Dylan’s hands behind his back with a plastic zip-tie.

Not wanting to look at the bed until everyone was secure, Abigail focused on the people standing around the room. Master Lee had moved back against the wall, his female slave by his side.

“Ms. Whitson, let’s get Ms. Mathews unbound,” Luke said, forcing her to look at the bed.

She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at the condition her friend was in. Yes, she’d seen it on the television downstairs, but up close and in real life it was even worse.