He told me they took his phone from him when he got inside. I knew that was BS. I knew it because Ivan let the guys film the girls if they wanted too because it made them come back for more. The guys thought they were getting something for free, Ivan said, but it’s like showing a picture of crack pipe to an addict. They’d look at a photo or video and want the real thing.
The guy was shaking and let’s just say he wasn’t popping Viagra because his excitement went away like a turtle slipping into its shell. I pressed the knife against his throat even harder and told him to give me his damn phone. He got up from the bed (squeak squeak went the springs) and I went with him. I kept the knife to his back as he got his phone from his suit jacket pocket. I made him do the code. I used one hand to hold the knife and the other to look at his pictures. There were pictures of his family and I was right. He did have a daughter about my age and son a little older. I told him how old I was and watched the color drain from his face. They told me you were nineteen, he said. They lied, I said. I opened his Facebook app and got his wife’s name and his hometown. I told him I was keeping his phone and I would call his wife and tell her what her hubby was up to if he told anybody about the phone or tried to disconnect it. I’d get another phone just like I got this one.
I used the knife and cut a slit in the mattress and stashed the phone and knife in there. The guy was shaking. Please don’t call my wife, he kept saying. Please don’t tell anyone I was here. He said he’d lose his job. I said not to worry. I won’t tell anyone if he won’t. I told him he had to go now, but that I needed a little distraction because I had a phone call to make. He asked what kind of distraction. I sat on the edge of the bed and smiled at him. Then I screamed RABBIT RABBIT loud as I could.
CHAPTER 33
Three days on stakeout and still no word from Nadine. This was not going as Angie hoped, and she was done waiting for something to happen. Angie sent text messages in an effort to coax Nadine out, but never got a response. She was careful not to use Nadine’s name, in case the woman at the bar turned the phone over to her pimp. Angie called a number of times as well, but those calls went straight to voice-mail.
Once it became obvious the stakeout would drag on, Mike got his ex to look after his kids so he could stay with Angie a while longer. He had a rental gig that weekend, but Bao coordinated the job, which meant time away from code breaking.
Angie kept in regular contact with Bao, and masked her frustration at his slow progress. He was also having a difficult time (Flip 5-0 Grind difficult, according to Bao) identifying the owner of the apartment building where they believed Nadine might be found. The property was part of the L & E Trust, whatever that was. Getting more information would involve the courts, something Angie didn’t have the time or inclination for.
In the course of their conversation, Angie told Bao about the check registers. He thought the discovery was interesting, but wasn’t sure what to make of it, either.
Twice the phone rang while Angie was talking to Bao. Each time, she was disappointed that the caller was another job, and not Nadine. As before, Angie farmed the jobs out to different PIs for a cut of the action. Anything that wasn’t Nadine-related had to take a back seat, and this included focus on a mysterious photograph taken some thirty years ago.
“See if you can link Markovich to the building,” Angie directed Bao.
To stay fresh and alert, Angie and Mike took turns sleeping in their respective vehicles. The removable window tint kept pedestrians from gawking at them while they slept or sat waiting for something to happen. When their legs got achy they took turns walking the neighborhood in disguise, though Angie never went as Big Red again. They stocked plenty of water and snacks, and kept their recording devices fully charged—standard practice during a lengthy stakeout.
Mostly what they did was wait for a break. Angie documented girls coming and going from the apartment building. Sometimes Casper and Buggy came and went through the front entrance; sometimes they took the alleyway, often while accompanying eager looking men. What Angie never saw was any sign of Nadine or the girl who’d received the phone from Mike.
Regrettably, Angie couldn’t count on the police for much of anything. She made a call to Major Chris Nuccio, who was in charge of the whole eastern district. Just getting him on the phone was an ordeal.
“I’ve already spoken with your officers when I went to the station to file a report,” Angie said. “So now I’m telling you. I think the building is being used as brothel and that a girl reported missing from Potomac, Maryland is being trafficked for sex at that address.”
“Have you seen the girl?” Nuccio asked.
“No,” Angie said.
“Any contact with her?”
“No,” Angie said again. She explained the burner phone and how she and Mike had followed Ivan Markovich, the last person to see Nadine, to a building in Baltimore.
“How do you know Markovich is the last person to see her?” Nuccio asked.
“We have video of him leaving Union Station with her.”
“But did you see her get into his car?”
“No.”