“Excuse me?” My stomach lurches at the ugliness of this situation. Thank God Archer killed that mother fucker when we had the chance. If we had captured him, I have no reason to believe he’d be behind bars. Someone bureaucratic bullshit would’ve had him walking out the front doors of justice. That’s what Capitol Hill money does—it makes problems go away.
Cara nods as she turns the corner. Down the street I can see the storage facility I’ve always used. Before we get there, she pulls over and types out a message on her phone. “I’m getting a warrant just in case they don’t want to talk to us.” Setting her phone back down, she turns toward me.
“I shouldn’t be telling you this because it’s classified and I know this is going to be hard to hear because your daughter was involved, but what your wife did, saved her life. Lawson was tasked with finding children for Renato. In exchange, Lawson got to live out his deranged fantasies. Abigail Chesley was not the first child he raped … there were many others, except we can’t pin those on him because they happened in Cuba. Renato wanted American children and Lawson promised to get them for him in exchange for money and drugs. We believe Lawson was also funneling drugs into the schools in Florida so he could use that as part of his campaign tactics. Even with him behind bars, his goons are making sure they keep up his handiwork. They’re harder to bust and our resources are thin on the case since we have Lawson in custody.
“The list Renato gave Lawson not only included the basic, but included ages and virginity status. Renato’s clients didn’t want kids off the street, they wanted what they called ‘untouched’ children. Some of the clients didn’t care about virginity because they were just interested in turning those children into sex slaves. Those people paid less. If Lawson delivered a less desirable child, he didn’t make as much money. Why he came after Claire, we don’t know. There isn’t a description on the lists that we have which matches hers.”
Cara’s words are hard to digest. The father in me wants to round all of these sick bastards up and kill them one by one. The SEAL in me feels the same way, but would torture them first, making sure they felt death knocking on their door. I swallow the lump in my throat and try to push the nausea in my stomach down.
“But she’s older now, was there a description of her six years ago?” The words barely tumble out of my mouth. Thinking of my baby, any baby for that matter, being on a list causes rage to build inside.
Cara shakes her head. “Not that we’ve found.”
“Then why come after Claire?”
“Easy target, especially if her dad is out of the picture.”
Cara maneuvers back into traffic and heads toward the storage facility. Every time I try to piece this all together, Frannie rears her ugly face in my thoughts. Everything ties to her, but I can’t figure out why. I was never meant to be a detective. Shit, even the trained detectives are having a hard time figuring this out.
“You know, if you guys hadn’t come back, we’d still be trying to piece this together.”
I don’t say anything because honestly there’s nothing left to say.
We park outside the gate and make our way to the front office, hoping someone is working today. Cara opens the door and walks in, with me right behind her. I recognize the man behind the desk; he’s a face I’m familiar with.
“This is the man I rented from,” I whisper in her ear as we approach the desk.
“Stay behind me,” she says under her breath. I do as she instructs, dropping by head so he can’t see who I am. I’m not sure what will happen if he recognizes me, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.
“I’m SA Hughes and this is my partner, Riggs. I’m following up on a case and believe you may have encountered the suspect. Have you seen this woman?” Cara holds up a picture, but I don’t know who its of.
“Yeah, I’ve seen her around.”
“Doing what?” she asks.
“Don’t know,” he replies and I imagine him shrugging. I also imagine my gun cocked against his head for being an asshole because the image is either of Penny or Frannie.
“Okay. I feel ya,” she says, pulling out her phone. “Hey, Allie, I’m going to need that warrant. Yeah, yeah, I want to dump his financials … hold on, Allie.”
“Lady, you don’t need a warrant, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
Cara pockets her phone as I stifle a laugh. She didn’t call anyone, but she sure as shit made him believe she did.
“Look that chick in the photo, she’s nuts, okay.”
“We know,” Cara says. “What about this woman?”
“Nah, I mean I’ve seen her, but not for a few years. That crazy chick asks about her, too. What’d she do?”
I can’t continue to stand behind Cara, so I move next to her and try not to make any contact with the man behind the counter. I need to hear him clearly. I should’ve worn a hat or something to cover some of my face. This is why I wouldn’t make a good detective.
“Her name is Penelope McCoy and she didn’t do anything wrong, we’re searching for her.”
The man shakes his head. “So’s that crazy chick.”
“When was the last time you’ve seen either one of them?”
“The blonde? Probably five years ago or so, but she wasn’t blonde. She had jet black hair. The one riding the train to cuckoo land, last month.”