He was vibrating out of his skin. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Easy, man.” Laz flanked him, almost touching him. Definitely hovering too goddamned close. Jay paced away to the far end of the bar.
Click.
“Jay Mayard?” The voice was deep, hushed.
“Yeah. Is this Nathan Winslow?”
“Speaking.”
“I’m looking for Charlee. There was a double homicide at her shop?”
“Where did you hear that name?”
Strange fucking question. “She gave it to me. I came in for some ink—”
“When was this?”
“Couple months ago. Where—”
“What day?”
“Uh…night after Independence Day.” He palmed his nape, tried to slow his breathing. “July fifth.” The line went deadly quiet. “Hello? Mr. Winslow?”
“Yeah…hang on a minute. I’m stepping onto an elevator. If we get disconnected, I’ll call you right back.”
A series of dings echoed down the line, followed by silence.
He wore a path on the hardwoods in front of the bar, sweat beading on his forehead.
Revving motors and car horns barreled through the phone, breaking the silence. “Jay? You still there?”
“Yeah. Where is Charlee?” The fever in his cheeks paled and flushed, and his chest tightened. He was not going to pass out.
“So you came into the shop on July fifth, and she told you her name was Charlee. Describe her.”
He ground his teeth. “White-blonde hair. Slender frame. Mouthy. Strangely perceptive. And eyes so blue you’d never fucking forget them. Now tell me, dammit. Tell me she wasn’t one of the victims.” His voice was raw.
“Your description matches that of Sarah Teves. She and her boyfriend were murdered in Kilroy around two in the morning on July sixth. I’m sorry. I’m transferring you back to Crane to take down your information…”
Anything else he said was lost to the pounding in his ears. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. His phone hit the counter he didn’t realize he was leaning on.
He sought out Laz’s eyes, anchored himself there. “She’s gone.”
“Oh, man. I’m sorry.”
“She was just a girl.” He covered his mouth. His lips were numb. His fingers, numb. “She was just a girl. I didn’t know her. She was just some girl.”
“I know, Jay. I know.”
“Just a fucking girl.” His voice was thready, broken.
12
The walk down the long corridor that night was harrowing. Charlee’s body trembled with waves of nausea, made worse by her nudity.
The security staff had monitored her for two months. They’d seen her raped, beaten, and brought to her knees. But she hadn’t seen them, didn’t know who remained on the payroll from years earlier. She preferred faceless Craigs. Somehow, they seemed less real.
She followed the chain and the man holding it around the corner, through the massive den, and into the dining room.
The table seated ten. Two empty chairs waited. The men, all dressed in suits, stood when Roy pulled her through the archway.
She shifted behind him to hide her nudity then thought better of it. She stepped around him and stared right back, taking in each Craig, pausing on each face in turn. Salvador, new Craig, new Craig, familiar Craig…she locked on the last one and froze. Beneath the bushy beard and extra weight, she marked the Marine with eyes so much like Noah’s.
The room fell away. She grabbed the back of the chair, seeking support. Damn, damn, damn. What was he doing?
Undercover, remember? My involvement must remain low profile.
Shock tried to wheeze its way out. She swallowed, smothering it. How long had he been there, in the same building, a shout away? Was he on a job for a client or a rescue mission? How did he know where to find her?
She concentrated on leveling her breath. No way would she make it through dinner and dessert. Son of a bitch, the dessert.
As was Roy’s custom, he would command her to perform during tea and sweet bread. A way to make her vulnerable and test the loyalty of his team at the same time. He would force her to entertain them, emasculate them as they watched. As Nathan watched. No. No, she couldn’t.
Engulfed by an overwhelming need to puke, she felt her legs move, and sank into the chair Roy held out for her.
He took his seat beside her and slithered a palm over her thigh. “Good evening. As you can see, we have a special guest tonight. Say hello, Charlee.”
She coughed her hysteria into cupped hands and stared at her placemat. “Hello.”
“Don’t be nervous, beautiful girl. These are the men keeping you safe.”
Safe? She thrashed in the padded room of her mind while she smiled outwardly. “Yes, Sir.”
Seeing Nathan flooded her with memories of Noah until all she could think about was him bleeding out on her shop floor. Nathan held the answer to the question she’d ignored for two months. Just a jerk of his chin or a subtle shake, and she’d know.