The Shark (Forgotten Files Book 1)

Sandy didn’t glance at the menu. “The number one.”


The waitress arched a painted-on brow. “That’s a lot of food.”

“I’ll eat it.” Bracelets rattled on Sandy’s wrist as she reached for the sugar and dumped in a few teaspoons before she splashed in milk.

Riley realized the kid had ordered a stack of pancakes as well as bacon and three scrambled eggs with toast. “I’ll have a bagel.”

“Sure.”

When the waitress left, Sandy leaned forward. “The cook can be a jerk, but he makes great eggs. Whenever I have extra change I eat here. Coffee is unlimited. Amazing how long you can go on coffee.”

“And hot water.”

“With ketchup, it’s a soup.” She drummed her fingers on the greasy table and snuck a glance toward the waitress. “You can play that card once here. Nico, the cook, doesn’t like it.”

“I’ll bet.” She traced the edge of her cup. “What’s going on with Cassie?”

“I haven’t seen her in over a day.”

“Is that unusual?”

“For her, yes. She likes to check in with me. And Tony is freaking out. He’s looking for Darla now. Wants to know where Darla took his merchandise.”

“No sign of Darla?” Riley asked.

“No. She’s hiding out.”

“Do you have any pictures of Cassie?”

“No.”

“This guy I’m looking for likes dark hair.”

Sandy’s eyes narrowed. “Cassie said Darla wanted to color her hair dark.”

From what she’d heard about Darla, the woman was resourceful. If a buyer wanted a brunette and she didn’t have a girl that fit the bill, she’d make one. “Did she say who the john was?”

“I asked Tony. He said the guy was rich and would show her a good time. Said not to worry.” She shook her head. “When Tony says not to worry, I do.”

The waitress arrived with Riley’s bagel. “The other gal’s order will be right up.”

“Thanks.” Riley looked at the girl’s gaunt face. She pushed the bagel toward Sandy. “I’m not hungry. Why don’t you snack on this while you wait for your meal.”

“I won’t say no.” Sandy bit into half of the bagel and shoved the other half in her pocket.

“Where’s Cassie from?”

“Western part of the state, I think. Some little hick town. Figured she’d come to the big city, get a job, and her life would get on track.”

“That didn’t work out well, did it?”

“No.”

“Drugs?”

“She didn’t want to at first, but Tony kept pushing. It’s not out of control, but . . . close.” Sandy sniffed. “She can’t handle the drugs or streets like me.”

Riley studied the dark circles under the girl’s sunken eyes. She wasn’t really handling it either. This life was simply killing her more slowly. “How much longer can you handle it?”

The waitress arrived at the table with Sandy’s food, and she didn’t speak for several minutes while she inhaled the feast.

“Darla drives a motor home,” Sandy said.

“Know any places she likes to park it?”

“There’s an old motel about twenty miles east. Has lots of rooms not connected.”

“Cottage-style?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Riley glanced out the window and saw Bowman standing by his car. Even from this distance, she could see him watching them.

“No one will testify against him or Darla. They’re too afraid.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not planning on sticking around. I don’t want to end up dead.”

“They won’t let you leave.”

“I’m not going to ask for permission.” She looked toward the door as if she suddenly thought Tony might be watching.

“If you want to get out, I can help.”

“I’ve pushed luck enough as it is.” Sandy mopped up the syrup on her plate with the last bit of pancake and ate it. As she swallowed, her phone buzzed and she tugged it from her pocket before the second ring. “I need to go.”

“I can help you, Sandy.”

“Don’t worry about me,” she said, sliding from the booth. “Just find Cassie. She has a chance to get out.”

Riley slid to the edge of the booth, pulled another business card from her back pocket, and pressed it into Sandy’s hand. “Just in case.”

“I have your number.”

“Then give it to another girl who needs help.”

“You lived on the streets, didn’t you?”

Riley dug a twenty out of her pocket, set it on the table, and placed her untouched coffee cup on top of it. “What makes you say that?”

“A vibe. Like you get what it’s like. No judgment in your eyes.”

“I’ve been a cop for eight years. I’ve seen my share.”

“A lot of cops see.” She texted a message on her cell phone. “Few understand.”

“Lucky, I guess.”

“See you around, Lucky.”

Riley watched the girl push through the front door and cross the lot outside. She moved toward a dark truck, spoke to the driver, and climbed inside the cab.

Never in Riley’s career had she wanted to see two people behind bars more than she did Darla and Jax. Jo-Jo might not ever testify against Jax, but he’d broken enough laws, including evading the police and possession of drugs in his car, to get him some time in prison. A prison sentence would give her the time to build a human trafficking case against him.

Outside, she walked toward the parking lot, watching as Bowman stepped away from his vehicle. He wore a dark sports coat over his white shirt and dark pants, but when a flap of wind caught the edges of the jacket, she glimpsed the weapon at his side.

“What did she say?” he asked.

“There’s a motel about twenty miles east of here.”

“You want to check it out?”

“I do. If we don’t find Cassie, I’ll call Sharp.”

“Let’s go.”

The first forty-eight hours in a missing persons case were the most critical. Didn’t seem like a case could go cold so fast, but the best leads vanished with the ticking clock. She didn’t want to rely on Bowman, but she wanted to stack the odds in her favor. She didn’t want to lose this hand. “Okay.”

“I’ll be right behind you. If we get separated, wait for me.”

“Understood.”





CHAPTER FIFTEEN


Sunday, September 18, 2:15 p.m.

Two players sat at the mahogany table covered in fine green velvet. They’d been at the table for six hours. The younger of the two, Lenny Vincent, had come to the table with a belly full of bravado, brains, and luck. Like the best players, he believed he could take the Shark. It had been done once before—it could be done again.

The Shark wasn’t looking good. His skin was pasty white; it hung on his bones like melting wax. When he sat at the table, he moved slowly as if every muscle in his body ached. The Shark might have been king of the game, but his time had passed. It was Lenny’s turn now to ascend the throne.