“What’s one day?”
“We have a punishment system. You don’t do as you’re told, and you get things taken away from you. We start with isolation and food, and as you become more adjusted and get more rewards, we take those away as punishment. So, you have just earned yourself one full day in isolation without food. Want to try again?”
What is this, the sixteen hundreds? Who takes food away as punishment? It’s barbaric! Although, right now, isolation doesn’t seem too bad. It would at least give me a chance to think of a plan of action.
He tries again. “Come here.”
“Make me,” I sneer, my voice coming out stronger than I feel.
He laughs, and my skin crawls. “Wrong choice of words, sweetheart. I can make you do anything I want. Maybe not in this cell, but we have many others that would work just fine for what needs to happen.”
He takes a step closer, and I take one back. We dance as I avoid him—one step forward, one step back—until I have nowhere left to go. My back hits the wall behind me. His hand makes contact with my shoulder, and he presses, hard, until my knees buckle, and I sink down in front of him. My muscles stay frozen. I want to hit him, kick him, run away, but I can’t.What is wrong with me?
He sees my internal struggle. “After-effects of the drugs. Get used to it. We need you compliant, so, until you learn to do it on your own, drugs it is.”
He jabs the needle into my upper arm, and I sit back on my heels, my head rolling forward. He bends down in front of me and lifts my face, so I’m looking directly into his bright green eyes.
“Welcome toEver After.”
Grayson
Amelia arrives fifteen minutes after I do, and the cavalry comes in a few minutes after that. I’ve been careful not to touch anything; I don’t want to risk tampering with any possible evidence. Everyone gets to work taking pictures, looking for clues, and Amelia pulls me aside to ask me some questions.
“When is the last time you talked with her?”
“I saw her this afternoon when she gave me the letter that I brought in earlier today. She was having lunch with Allie, her assistant. I told her to get over to my house immediately.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Why your place?”
I roll my eyes. “Geez, Shaw, why do you think? I couldn’t send an officer to watch over her, so I figured I would. She’d have been safe at my house.”
She holds her hands up in surrender. “All right, fine. You didn’t hear anything else from her, though? No texts, no calls, nothing?”
“Nope.” I pop the P. “I tried texting her when we were at the stake-out, but I couldn’t get in touch with her. We have to get her back. I can’t lose her like I lost Sarah, especially not like this.”
“I know.” She places her hand on my arm, her touch comforting. “We’re going to comb through this place. See if we can find anything. Who did she get the information for the drop from? Did she tell you?”
“No, she wouldn’t give me his name,” I scoff. Her and her fucking HIPAA rules. “I’ll call Allie and see if I can get the information from her.” I look at my watch. It’s already ten-thirty at night, so she’s probably in bed. I don’t want to alarm her tonight, but the longer Finley is gone, the less chance I have of getting her back.
Looking around, I see her phone is lying on the floor under some debris.
I slip on a glove and pick it up. The screen is cracked, but it still works. Several unread texts and a voicemail pop up on the screen. I don’t have to open them to know they’re all from me. Of course, it’s password protected—things can never be easy.
Holding the phone out, I give it a small shake so Amelia can see. “Think Dylan would be willing to come down to the station tonight and crack her code?”
Dylan is our genius IT guy. He knows his way around any device and can crack them just as easily. I once lost a bet to the fucker because I thought my email password was uncrackable. Within five minutes, he was reading all my personal shit. If anyone can get into her phone, it’s him.
“I think you have a better chance of getting him into the station tonight if you entice him with alcohol.”
“How about if I threaten to beat his ass?”
“HR will haveyourass if you try that. Unless you know her passcode, you’re going to have to wait until tomorrow to get into it. I know it’s not what you want to hear.” She takes a deep breath. “It’s been a long day. Go home. Try to get some sleep, and we can go to her office in the morning. You can intercept Allie and let her know what’s going on then. See if she can give you the name of the person you’re looking for.”
I know I won’t be much use here until they finish combing through anything, but there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to be able to sleep either. I drive to the station, pour myself a cup of subpar coffee from the pot, and sit at my desk to comb through the small amount of information scattered on top. There has to be something here that will give me a lead as to where she is.
I make a list of everything I know.
Six girls have gone missing in the past six months, mostly in Lincoln Park. Most of the girls don’t have a lot of family, and some were reported missing by a “boyfriend.” I’m ninety percent sure the ones filing the report are their pimps, and they’re pissed the girl isn’t bringing in more cash. This number has grown exponentially. It used to be about one every three months. I’m not positive they’ve all ended up in the same place, but if so, these bastards have expanded their operation.
