Visible Threat (16 page)

41

B
RINNA WASN’T ASLEEP
when the phone started ringing. She’d been lying in bed, stroking the slumbering Hero, feelings alternating between anxiety and anticipation. The situation with Hero, wondering if the city would pick up his cost, caused the anxiety; and this new thing with Jack caused the anticipation. She’d really enjoyed the dinner with him, more than she could remember enjoying a night out with a man. She even looked forward to Sunday and attending church with Jack. That would knock her mother for a loop.

But Brinna couldn’t say she’d ever been good at relationships. The last guy she dated had been nice enough, but he couldn’t understand Brinna’s mission, her need to rescue children. She and Jack had more common ground, common interests, and common concerns. Would all that commonality help them make a relationship work?

When the phone rang, Brinna frowned. She was still hoping Maggie would call but knew a call at this time of night was unlikely to be from her friend. She glanced at the clock
and the time gave her pause. It was a little after 2 a.m. No good news ever came this late. She answered the phone on the nightstand as Hero stirred.

“Yes?”

“Brinna, it’s Debbie from communications. Sorry to wake you.” Brinna recognized the voice of one of the dispatch supervisors.

“I was awake. What’s up?”

“Do you know where your mother is?”

Brinna sat up and swung her legs out from under the covers. Her frown deepened, and a knot of fear formed inside her.

“I assume she’s home in bed. Why?”

She heard Debbie sigh. “She called us about forty-five minutes ago, saying she thought she had a prowler. She didn’t indicate it was urgent, so we didn’t enter the call as a priority one. Anyway, a graveyard unit is at her house now, and there’s no sign of her. All the lights are on in the house and the kitchen door was open, but your mom isn’t there.”

The knot of fear inside Brinna exploded like a hand grenade, and she sprang to her feet. “I’m on my way over there now. Is there a sergeant on scene?”

“There will be by the time you get there. I’ll also notify the watch commander.”

“Thanks.” Brinna could tell by the tension in Debbie’s voice that she would treat this situation very seriously. She hung up the phone and grabbed some clothes. Dressing quickly, she whistled for Hero, and the two of them sped to her mother’s house.

*   *   *

There were three black-and-whites in front of the house when Brinna arrived
 
—one sergeant and two patrol cars. Every light in the house was on, and through open blinds Brinna could see officers standing in her mother’s living room. A dread tightened in her stomach, very similar to the feeling she’d had the day she herself was snatched off the sidewalk twenty years ago by a monster. He’d wrapped her in a blanket and wedged her under a table in a camping trailer. She’d felt like she would suffocate back then and she felt that way now. Her throat tightened, and her hands shook as she jumped out of the truck and jogged to the house. Her injured wrist throbbed. She left Hero in the truck with the motor running and the air on until she knew exactly what she was dealing with.

“What’s going on?” she asked the first officer who caught her eye, a rookie she knew only as Bates. He was acting as scribe at her mom’s kitchen door.

“Not sure yet,” he said as he put pen to paper to write down her name. “Sergeant Klein is inside, waiting for you.” He stepped aside and Brinna leaped past him.

Once in the kitchen, Brinna took a deep breath and surveyed the scene, struggling for a police officer’s detachment. Klein was there, along with Donovan, another graveyard officer Brinna figured was training the rookie outside. She saw the broken teacup on the floor, the gas burner on the stove still burning, and the chair turned over on its side, but other than that, there was no blood, no bodies. Her breath came out in a whoosh.

“Brinna.” Klein put a hand on her shoulder. “We don’t know what we have here, but it doesn’t look good.”

“What can you tell me?” were all the words her tight, dry throat could manage.

“Forced entry through a back bedroom window.” Klein waved his arm around the kitchen. “And this. I’d be willing to bet your mom isn’t in the habit of leaving the stove on or dropping cups on the floor and then disappearing at two o’clock in the morning.”

Brinna shook her head, trying to clear thoughts muddied by fear. “Is her car still here? And what about the girl, Ivana?” she rasped, swallowing as her voice threatened to break completely.

“The girl?” Klein’s expression told Brinna he knew nothing about Ivana, and she remembered that her mother’s role in housing Ivana was not supposed to be on any paperwork. The question
How did they find her, then?
shot through her brain like a bullet train. She breathed deeply and composed herself before briefly explaining to Klein about Ivana staying with her mother.

“Car is in the garage. No sign of this Ivana. I have officers at St. Mary’s in case maybe a neighbor took your mother to the emergency room. Nothing yet. Officers are knocking on doors.”

Brinna felt her knees weaken, and she moved to the archway between the kitchen and living room to lean for support. She knew Klein and Donovan were watching her.

“Debbie said that my mom called about a prowler.”

“Yes,” Donovan spoke up. “We caught the call. She didn’t
use 911; she called the seven-digit line. The computer shows it took us sixteen minutes to get here. We could have gotten here quicker, but dispatch didn’t make the call a priority because your mom didn’t act like it was an emergency.” His contrite posture told her he regretted not hurrying over. But Brinna couldn’t fault him. Cops couldn’t be clairvoyant, and if her mother didn’t say it was urgent, there was no way Donovan could know.

She closed her eyes and tried to think without having fear crowd in at every turn. But concentration eluded her. There was also Brian to consider. Brinna had no idea how to get ahold of him in South America and tell him what was going on. He should be told, but she decided that notifying him would have to wait. There was too much else to worry about at the moment.

Folding her arms tight around her midsection, she wished this were a nightmare that she’d wake up from soon. She might as well have been on a rough sea the way her insides pitched and her temples pounded. She took another deep breath.

I have to think clearly,
she told herself,
have to be a cop now. That’s the only way to help my mother. No garden-variety prowler abducts two people from a house this cleanly.

“Call O’Reilly,” she said finally.

“Jack O’Reilly?” Klein asked.

Brinna nodded and swallowed. “This case, the homicide Jack is working on, and the situation with Ivana, the girl
 
—there are possible organized crime ties. Jack and Ben have been working that angle.”
And I want Jack here. I need his strength.

“The girl you pulled out of the river is tied to a homicide?” Klein frowned.

“Yeah, she’s a victim of human trafficking, possibly brought to this country by organized crime. Since my mom doesn’t have any enemies that I know of, that’s the only angle I can think to work.”

“Sounds like a sensible theory.” Klein pulled out his handheld radio and asked dispatch to call O’Reilly. He also asked for a priority lab.

Brinna surveyed her mother’s kitchen again, the realization hitting like a baton blow. This was now a crime scene.

42

J
ACK SAT AT HIS KITCHEN TABLE,
Bible open in front of him, cup of tea steaming on his right. He hadn’t had trouble sleeping in a while. Months ago he’d struggled with insomnia and had trouble closing his eyes because all he’d see were visions of his dead wife, Vicki. But lately he’d been sleeping well. There’d been no ghosts invading his dreams, no nightmares about Vicki’s accident.

Tonight his sleeplessness had nothing to do with Vicki. Instead, his thoughts were on Brinna. She touched his heart like he’d never thought it could be touched since Vicki. It made him giddy. He was certain the goofy grin on his face would never fade.

And Brinna was coming around to a solid faith in God, and that made him happy. Gone was the antagonism toward prayer and the faith he and her mother shared. They’d made plans to go to church together on Sunday, and he found he could hardly wait. She still had a lot of questions, but they’d be able to work through them as a couple.

She hated the fact that innocents suffered and that God
allowed bad things in a person’s life. He studied Scripture and prayed for answers, for insight, for a way to help a woman he truly cared about understand that a good God existed and that he loved her and her kids even more than she did.

Taking a sip of tea, he settled back in his chair.
The Lord causes the rain to fall on the just and the unjust,
Jack thought, not remembering the exact verse. He could quote many other verses that told the Christian to expect adversity, trials, and all sorts of trouble in this life. Life in this world would never be perfect.

Brinna wanted perfection
 
—perfect justice and a perfect world. She wanted to be able to save all the innocents in the world. Jack could understand the desire she had to protect the innocent. That same desire had drawn him to police work many years ago. But he’d been grounded in the belief that God was real and directing his steps, guiding his life.

He rubbed his face with both hands and prayed that the answers he shared with her would reach her and help her on her faith journey.

The ring of the telephone interrupted him.

Debbie in communications was on the line, and she quickly and concisely explained the situation with Brinna’s mother. Jack groaned.

“It’s always tougher when it’s one of our own. This is horrible for Brinna, isn’t it?” Debbie said.

“I’m sure it is. Tell them I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Jack dressed quickly, praying for Rose, Ivana, and Brinna and wondering where this crisis would push Brinna and her views about God.

43

W
HEN THE VAN CAME TO A STOP,
Ivana and Mrs. Caruso were jerked out of the back and half carried, half dragged into a building. Ivana struggled to clear her mind as confusion and disorientation twisted her thoughts. Though the hood was still in place and she could see nothing but black, she could tell they weren’t at the house she’d run from. The cold night air, the smell of salt water in her nostrils, and the sounds of waves told her they were close to the ocean.

The odors and sounds dredged up the memory of when she and her sister had first stepped onto America’s shores. They’d been dumped in a dingy warehouse, and immediately Demitri told them the truth of why he’d brought them to America. Ivana had just recounted the horrors of that day for Detective O’Reilly, and these noises and smells brought the memory of that bleak day back anew.

She heard Rose Caruso protesting, threatening that her daughter was a police officer. Simon told her to shut up or be slapped again.

The screech of metal scraping metal as a heavy door was opened caused Ivana to flinch. Then Simon yanked her hood off, and Ivana blinked as her eyes adjusted to the presence of light. Mrs. Caruso stood next to her, looking just as disoriented but not frightened, and that surprised Ivana. Ivana herself was terrified. She recognized this place. It was the warehouse, the horrible place where they’d found out what Demitri wanted of them. Here was where Villie had received a horrible beating.

All of their captors had their hoods off, and they spoke in low tones in Bulgarian. Ivana had seen all of them before, but it was only Simon whose name she knew.

“Simon, please, let this woman go. She is no threat to you. Don’t punish her because of me,” Ivana pleaded, also speaking in her native tongue. She ignored Mrs. Caruso’s questioning gaze.

Simon grabbed her elbow and pulled her toward the small room in which she and Villie had stayed with the other girls before they’d been taken to the house. “You should have thought about that before you ran away.” Simon was furious. “I will not face Demitri’s wrath because of you.”

He shoved Ivana into the room, and one of the others thrust Rose Caruso in after her.

“You men, I warn you
 
—you are making a huge mistake,” Mrs. Caruso protested. “What exactly do you plan to do with us?”

“You will stay here for a few days,” Simon answered in English. “My employer will answer your questions when he returns.” He glared at Ivana when he said
employer
, and she knew he meant Demitri.

Simon tossed a bag into the room. “Some food and water for you.” He stood in the doorway and lit a cigarette. After the first puff he pointed at Ivana. “There is no way out of here. You can scream all you want; no one will hear. You will be here until Demitri returns, so sit quietly and behave.”

With that, he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

44

N
EEDING TO DO SOMETHING
to feel useful in some way, Brinna got Hero out of the truck. She asked him to find her mother. The dog caught the scent leaving the kitchen but the trail ended in the driveway, where he circled a bit, then finally stopped and looked at her as if to say,
“I got nothing.”
He whimpered a bit as he sat at her feet, and Brinna fought back tears of frustration. Her mother and Ivana had most likely been put into a car and driven away.

After the brief search, all she could do was pace and wait for Jack. While she waited, she phoned Chuck, expecting his voice mail. Instead he answered, and at the sound of his voice, the tale of her latest nightmare tumbled out in a torrent.

“Whoa, Brinna, slow down. What do you mean your mom is gone? How is that possible?”

“I wish I knew.” She took a deep breath and held her fractured wrist up, hoping the throbbing would ease. “Her house is empty. No sign of her or Ivana.”

“I can’t believe this. The surveillance car would have been
in place at 6 a.m., in just a few hours. I don’t know what to say.” He paused a moment. “What’s happening on your end?”

Brinna explained that Jack was on the way, and right now LBPD lab personnel were processing the scene.

“Look, I’ll get over there as soon as I can. Hang in there. We’ll find them both.”

Brinna closed her phone and watched the street for Jack’s arrival. As he parked his car and walked up, she struggled to keep her emotions in check, convinced that every cop on scene regarded her with pity. She looked to Jack for strength and wisdom, knowing from past experience she could count on his insight. If he regarded her with the same pity as everyone else, the ragged walls of control she’d been struggling to erect would implode and crumble like pixie dust.

Jack nodded her way, but in his eyes Brinna saw what she had hoped to see: cop resolve. He first conferred with Klein, and Brinna listened in as all the information she already knew was repeated. The only new bit came from one of the officers who’d been knocking on every door in the neighborhood. Someone had seen a white panel van in her mother’s driveway. The woman, an elderly neighbor, had thought the sight unusual, but by the time she’d finished in the bathroom and looked back out the window, the van was gone. This only confirmed to Brinna what Hero had told her
 
—her mother was long gone.

Up to date on all that was known at the time, Jack regarded Brinna with an indefinable expression. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I can’t understand how this could happen. I know great pains were taken to keep your mother’s address out of the
public domain. I’m not certain how anyone could have gotten it this fast . . . or organized this type of assault.”

Brinna willed her voice to stay steady. “For all we know, we were followed home from the hospital. I felt uneasy, but I didn’t see anything and thought I was just being paranoid. Maybe I led them right to Ivana and my mom.”

“Hey.” Jack reached out and gripped her shoulder. “No time for any blame game. We had no information indicating something like this was a possibility. The course of action now is to concentrate on finding them.” He held her gaze, and she had to look away as her eyes started to fill.

Just then a light sprinkle began to fall, and Brinna felt as though it was the last straw. “I want to find them. But Hero has already been in the driveway searching. The trail ends here.” She stomped on the spotted driveway. “We have no trail to follow.” Her jaw tightened and her good hand formed a frustrated fist.

Jack stepped close. “Listen, before I came out here, I called Ben and filled him in. He had an idea that might help. We know Ivana ran from a house somewhere in Hawaiian Gardens, right?” When Brinna nodded, he continued. “Well, Ben thought about driving up to the sheriff’s office in Lakewood; they handle Hawaiian Gardens. He’s going to review all their nuisance complaints. If Ivana was held in a house with other girls for the purpose of prostitution, it’s possible a neighbor noticed a pattern of excessive traffic and made a complaint about the house.”

Brinna considered that line of thinking. It happened at drug houses all the time. Neighbors would get angry because
a constant stream of customers to the drug house would increase traffic and noise in the neighborhood and monopolize available parking spots. Complaints often gave officers a heads-up about the problem and many times led to probable cause for a search warrant.

“That could work,” she conceded. “Given the location Ivana went into the river, we have a reasonable amount of ground to cover.” Though for Brinna, she knew she would knock on every door in Hawaiian Gardens if it would help find her mother.

“Exactly. Maybe officers went out and checked a complaint but didn’t have enough for a warrant. In any event, it will be worth the time and effort to recheck any house we can.”

For the first time since she’d realized her mother was gone, Brinna felt a spark of hope. If Ivana’s captors had taken her mother, the odds were good that they took her to the house Ivana escaped from. If they could find that house, and find it fast, her mother’s chances were better.

“Maybe I can go and help Ben out
 
—” Brinna stopped and followed Jack’s gaze. She groaned and covered her mouth with her hand. A news van had just pulled up. Her mother’s plight would be all over the morning news shows. This would be a great development if it helped find her mother. But it would be horrible if the heat made her mother’s captors decide that Rose Caruso was a liability.