stupid.”
“I only tried to help you.”
“I only tried to help you,” Sarajo repeated in a nasty singsong. “Marks like you are all the same, always whining. You think you’re so smart, and look at you. Nothing but an animal in a cage.”
“What did I do to make you hate me?”
“You exist for starters. You put Isaac in jail for twelve years.”
“You know what he did to me, to all of us.”
“Asked for it, didn’t you?” The boldly dyed lips sneered. “Little whores.”
“I was twelve.”
“Yeah?” Sarajo cocked a hip, angled her head. “When I was twelve I fucked plenty of men. They just had to pay for it first. That’s where you’re stupid. Seeing you in here’s almost worth the time I had to spend with you.”
“If you help me, I’ll get you money.”
“We’ve got money now.” The woman ran a hand down her side, sliding it along the dress. “And we’ll have more when we’re done.”
“If you’re after a ransom, I—”
“You think this is about you?” She threw back her head and laughed. “You’re nothing. You’re just a way to help us get to something worth a hell of a lot more. She’s going to pay for what she did to Isaac. And when we’re done we’ll have more money than anybody can dream of. Me and Isaac, we’re going to live the high life.”
“He’ll kill you,” Melinda said, her voice dull now. “You’ll help him get what he wants, and when he has it, he’ll kill you and move on. You’re the mark, Sarajo. You just don’t see your cage.”
Sarajo kicked the plate across the room, upended the water on the floor.
“Uh-oh!” Isaac came in, all smiles. “Cleanup on aisle six.” He laughed, obviously tickled as he draped an arm around the woman’s waist, tugged her in. “Are you girls talking about me?”
He pressed a kiss to Sarajo’s temple, all the while sending Melinda a cocky, conspirator’s wink.
“She’s just running off at the mouth. It’s what she’s best at.” Sarajo turned into him, rubbed her body to his. “Come on, baby, let the bitch lap at the floor. You can lap on me.”
“Sounds delicious. But we’ve got something to take care of, remember? And you have to change for it. Not that you don’t look
“Why don’t we make it just you and me tonight?”
“It’ll be even better,” he promised in a whisper. “Promise. Go on, baby doll, go put on your Aunt Sandra clothes. It’s going to be fun!”
He gave her a playful swat on the ass. With one last vicious glance at Melinda, she went out.
“Isaac, you’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get me here.”
“More than you know, sweetie pie, but worth every minute just to see your pretty face again.” His eyes, a brilliant blue now, sparkled with delight. “We have to make time to catch up. I want to hear every little thing you’ve been up to.”
“I think you know. I think you’ve kept up since I saw you last.”
He smiled at her, handsome in his pressed jeans and casual shirt. His hair was blond, his face tanned, as if he spent his days working outdoors in the sun.
“It was so considerate of you to visit.”
“Is that why I’m here? For being considerate. Am I the only one who came?”
“And isn’t that a sad commentary on manners in today’s society.” He hefted out a sigh. “Then again, so many bad girls.”
Melinda forced herself to maintain eye contact, to keep her voice mild. “You and I know you don’t take them because they’re bad, but because they’re innocent. You can be honest with me, Isaac.” She held up her shackled arms. “You’re obviously in control of this situation. In control of me, of Sarajo—or whatever her real name is.”
“I don’t know if she remembers half the time. You’re doing such a good job, Melinda, using your counselor’s tone, the right words. I’m very proud of you.”
“Tell me why I’m here. What you’re using me for. Don’t you want to share that with me?”
“Tempting, but you know what would be more fun? And you know how much I love fun and games.” He came closer, cupped her chin in his hand, made her skin crawl. “Figure it out. It’s like a puzzle. Just put the pieces together. Now I’m going on a little adventure. You be good while I’m gone.”
“Won’t you stay and talk to me? Or . . . we can do whatever you want. Anything. But don’t go tonight.”
“That’s just so sweet. No offense, honey, but you know you’re not my type these days. Not that I can’t make do.” He gave her another wink. “The thing is, I’ve got plans for tonight.”
“They’ll be looking for you.” She couldn’t stop her tone from rising, her voice from shaking. “If you go out, try to take another girl, they could catch you. Everything will be over before it begins. You don’t need to do this. I’ll be what you want.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about me.” He blew her a kiss. “I’ll be back soon, and won’t it be nice for you to have some company?” He glanced toward the ruined sandwich. “Sorry about dinner, but I guess you’ve learned not to make the lady of the house mad. She’s got a temper, that one.”
“Please, please, please. Wait!” No good, no good, nothing she could do to stop him. “Please, just tell me where I am. Just tell me, are we still in Dallas or—”
“Dallas is the whole point. Be back soon.”
He left the lights blazing. Melinda dropped her head on her updrawn knees, let out a keening wail for the child whose life would be forever scarred if McQueen had his way.
She rocked, she wept, she finally released the screams burning her throat until, exhausted, she lay curled on the floor of the horrible room.
She let her eyes track it now, let herself see where she was. A rectangle of walls, floor, ceiling, the single window barred and screened. Even if she could reach it, she’d need a tool of some sort to hack at the screening. No table, no chair, just a blanket tossed on the floor.
And four sets of shackles fixed to the walls.
He didn’t mean for her to stay alone.
God, God, give her the strength to help whoever he brought in here. To help the children survive, to help her find a way to save them.
Help her save their hearts and minds. It’s what she’d trained and studied for. And Bree, she had to trust that Bree would do the rest.
If they were still in Dallas, as he’d said, there was a chance, a good chance. Bree would never give up, never let up. And she was smart, canny, tireless. A cop through and through, Melinda told herself. She’d started to become one the day they’d been saved.
The moment Officer Eve Dallas had opened the door to that awful room in New York, Bree had set her path, and had followed it without detour.
To protect and serve, Melinda thought as she closed her eyes, the victims, the abused, the marks, the shattered. And she’d used the career of the cop who’d saved them as her template. Setting the goal high, that was Bree. That was . . .
She shoved up to sit, eyes open.
Dallas was the whole point. Eve Dallas?
Was it all just about revenge after all?
Eve paced in front of her board, juggling the details, making patterns, taking them apart, reforming them. She constantly checked the time.
It hadn’t been that long, not really, since they’d picked up Civet in New York. Pressuring solid information out of a dealer with his record and experience took finesse, effort, sweat.
But why the hell hadn’t they pressured anything out of him?
She stepped to the connecting door where Roarke worked three comps, muttering at all of them, in his search for McQueen’s accounts.
“Maybe you could holo me in to New York, into Interview.”
He paused, rolling his shoulders as he sat back to study her. “If that’s what you want, we can set it up.”
