The back door to the house he was interested in was open. Not a good sign. He took out his gun and silently inched his way in. Some sun filtered through the dirty windows, making it possible to see all the debris which included filthy mattresses, needles, and human waste all around the first floor.
He went through the living room, dining room, kitchen, and every other room on the first floor. Nothing. He crept up the stairs, staying close to the wall so hopefully, he wouldn’t hit a floorboard that would creak on the staircase. By the time he made it to the top floor, the stench was overwhelming; the unmistakable garbage-and-rotten-fish smell of death. All of the doors on this floor had been crashed in. When he got to the fourth door, he found bloodstains leading up to the doorway. Then he saw a shiny new padlock, like he’d seen near the other doors.
He listened intently but didn’t hear any sounds. He took a deep breath, then burst around the corner of the doorjamb with his gun ready to take a shot, but the room was empty. He went in and investigated. More blood on the floor around the door. Then he saw over the rose wallpaper a small bloody palmprint about the same time he saw a blue high heel.
His gut clenched. He hadn’t seen it before, but as he picked it up, it looked to be exactly Sam’s style and size. She had to have been here. He hovered his hand over the bloody palm print. It would exactly fit her hand.
He choked back a roar of rage. She was bleeding.
He had to keep it together and check the last room, the one with the closed door. Quietly, he stepped over the ruined door and went to the last room. This room had a padlock on it too. He didn’t know if it was to keep out the druggies, or to keep people inside. He kicked open the door.
He shut his eyes. Then opened them again.
“Leo,” he said into his mic so everybody could hear. “We have a dead body for your brother. It’s at location number three.”
“Did you find anything else?”
“Yeah, Sam’s been here. I found her shoe. I touched it, so I’m taking it with me.”
“Got it. I’ll call it into Martin after we’re done with this.”
Ezio took one last look at the emaciated corpse. It had to be at least a week old, so it couldn’t be Kevin. Was he the game-runner? Who the hell is Bertram Anders?
He went back to the other room and gently picked up Samantha’s shoe and took it back with him to his truck. He called the SPCA about the abused dog on his way to the next location. At least he could do One. Fucking. Good. Thing!
23
“If you don’t start walking faster, Harry, I’m just going to drag you. You got it?”
Samantha woke up at the man yelling. It sounded like Ajax. She should have aimed for his head.
She didn’t open her eyes, she didn’t want to alert anyone that she was awake. She really wanted to move because her hair and cheek were sticky with throw-up slime, but she kept still. Her arm burned like fire.
“Please don’t kill me,” somebody pleaded.
“Harry, Mr. Anders isn’t going to kill you.”
“Oh God no,” Harry shrieked. “Don’t let him do that to me. Please. I have money. Just let me go,” he blubbered.
“You knew when you signed up with his organization what the consequences were. He needs to make an example out of you.”
“No!” he screeched.
“Shut him up,” another man spoke up with a husky rasp.
She heard the sound of a fist meeting flesh. She continued to keep her eyes closed. Something soft and heavy landed on her. She screamed, her arm exploding with pain.
“You awake, bitch?”
She opened her eyes to see Lonnie, with a really thick bandage around his neck. He must have been the one with the raspy voice.
“Answer me,” he whispered.
Samantha stayed silent. It was her own little way to revolt. He kicked Harry out of the way then nudged her bad arm. She whimpered. “Talk, bitch, or I’ll press harder.” His whisper was evil.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Are you looking forward to this afternoon?” He laughed, then started coughing.
“Should I be?”
“Oh yeah. You should definitely look forward to it. I am. Snotty bitch like you will get her comeuppance.”
“Quit it, Lonnie,” Ajax said. “We have to get some of these crates moved, you know how Mr. Anders likes things. Everybody in a circle.”
“I’m injured,” Lonnie whined.
Right then and there, Samantha realized she didn’t really like whiny men.
There you go, still with the sense of humor, you’ve got this.
She felt tears forming.
I really don’t have this.
She wanted to cry. She was so scared. She wanted to beg for Ezio to find her. To save her.
Ezio went to the next place on his list, an old clothing factory on the outskirts of Richmond that had to have been shut down twenty years ago. He parked behind a razor-wire fence near the southwest side of the building.
“Shit.”
Ezio tapped onto his mic. “I’m at the fourth location.
