Chapter 14
LEIF
"For the record…" I started.
"I know you don't like it," Forrest said, cutting me off. "Woody can handle it."
"He better be able to handle it." I looked back over my shoulder the way we came, barely containing my fury. I didn't do fury. Not usually. Walking away and leaving Sable there with Woody and the senator, not to mention his henchmen? You better believe that didn't sit well with me.
"We need to do this," Forrest said firmly. "We don't have a choice."
I wanted to argue. There was always a choice.
In this case, the only other alternative sucked. We needed to do this. And we needed to do it quickly. Also, don't argue with a judge. There's nothing they haven't heard before. Nothing that they haven't thought of and can't counter. If I didn't like Forrest, he'd piss me off.
We stepped through the doorway into the second location, the place where the auction would take place.
A downtown bar that would have passed as a speakeasy a hundred years ago.
Now it was an upscale establishment for people like us.
Security on the door barely gave us a second glance. They knew both of us on sight.
Oh good, I was famous. Or should I say infamous?
The skin under my suit felt dirty just stepping into the establishment.
It might have been the other people already there, the so-called elite.
If being a piece of shit came with a medal, they'd be weighted down with them.
Of course, who else would take part in an event like this?
Normal people were living their lives, while these people were pressing the buttons, holding the strings.
I forced a smile onto my face and relaxed my shoulders. I was supposed to be one of these men, another controlling asshole in a room full of controlling assholes.
"And now for the second lot." A voice came from a room in the back of the bar.
An opulent function room with velvet curtains, slick steel furniture, and exclusive photography on the wall.
Nothing salacious, just views of the city, but all taken by someone who knew what they were doing.
No photos from someone's phone. No quick Polaroid snapshots.
I'd have to get the name of the photographer. I could put a few of these up in the homes I was decorating. I bet they cost a pretty penny.
Also costing a pretty penny was the woman who stood on stage, fear in her eyes, while the men stood around, admiring her and making comments about how long her legs were.
Very long. I only took a glance, I promise.
Men on either side of the room took turns bidding on her, one a renowned surgeon, the other a real estate developer.
Sick fucks.
Finally, the real estate developer shook his head and stepped back, brandy in his hand.
"Let me guess, he pushed the price up enough," I muttered.
Forrest hummed his agreement.
"We'll deal with them later."
"That's the first time tonight someone said something that made me smile," I told him. Both of these men would look good with a few fingers missing. Then a few toes. Maybe their eyelids after that.
"Our next lot is for those who are musically inclined," the auctioneer said smoothly.
Unlike everyone else here, he wore a mask to hide his identity. Coward. If you were going to sell women, you should have the balls to show your face.
I cast a sidelong look at Forrest. His expression was unreadable.
He might have been thinking the same thing I was, and he might have been thinking about the price of eggs.
Why eggs? I didn't know. I rarely knew what was going on inside Forrest's head.
He was as closed a book as anyone I ever met.
Trying to decipher him would only give me a headache.
I turned my attention back to the auctioneer.
Whoever he was, we'd find him soon enough. They always left a trail. They were good, but we were better. I know, I know, it's a cliche, but I don't give a shit at this point. They shouldn't get away with this.
Another man in a mask, with a matching suit, the same height and physique as the auctioneer, led Savannah out a door to the side of the room. One that was obscured by a Japanese-style screen.
She looked exhausted and terrified, but unharmed. That is to say, there were no bruises on her face or hands, or what I could see of her legs. The rest of her was covered in a short black dress with long sleeves and a plunging back.
"Some of you may recognize her from the orchestra," the auctioneer said. He sounded familiar. Did I know him? Whatever, he was dead either way. "Who will start the bidding?"
The room was silent for a few moments.
"Come on, somebody start us off," the auctioneer urged. "She's cute, smart and talented. Think of the fun you could have."
Think of the fun I could have smashing your face in with a hammer, I thought.
Finally, the real estate developer said, "Two million."
Trembling, Savannah glanced over to him. She leaned forward a little, like she was going to throw up on the auctioneer's patent leather shoes.
"Any other bids?" the auctioneer asked. "Come on, this woman is worth more than that. She'll make beautiful music for you."
I couldn't see his smile, but I heard it in his voice. He wasn't talking about using a musical instrument.
Prick.
I was going to enjoy peeling the skin off his body.
"Three million," Forrest said, his tone suitably bored. He was doing his best impersonation of a complete asshole. Okay, it wasn't that much of a stretch, but he was a better man than the rest of them standing in this room. Myself included.
"Four million," the real estate developer said.
Forrest looked disinterested before saying, "Five million."
Savannah gaped at him, finally recognizing both of us. She blinked a bunch of times, not knowing if we were there to help her or harm her.
I hated that.
If I could tell her things would be okay, I would. For one thing, I couldn't guarantee that. For another, we had to maintain our cover for a while longer. If things went according to plan, we could explain everything. Hopefully, she'd understand.
"Six million," the real estate developer said as if that bid would automatically push Forrest right out of the running.
Forrest looked irritated, as if he was beaten and he knew it, but didn't like it. Of course not. Forrest didn't like to lose. No one in this room did.
"Ten million," I said loudly.
A murmur went through the gathering. People twisted around to stare. If anyone was going to be blown out of the water, it was everyone but us.
The real estate developer glared at me but turned and headed over to the bar.
"Any other bids?" the auctioneer turned his gaze toward Forrest, who scowled at me, then shook his head.
"In that case, sold to Mr. Larsen," the auctioneer said.
His associate pushed Savannah in my direction, almost making her stumble.
"Hey, don't damage the goods," I said with a laugh.
Chuckling, he disappeared through a door at the back of the room, presumably to bring out another victim.
"What are you—" Savannah started to say.
We both gave her a glance that made her close her mouth with a snap.
"Stay here." I stepped over to get the details to transfer ten million dollars to the auction organizer. The same ten million the senator paid Forrest for Sable. He'd transferred it to me when we came up with this plan on the way here. Neither of us wanted his dirty money.
Once we had the details, we'd pass them on to Forrest's son, Cass. He'd track down the organizer, and the money, and make sure it went to a better cause.
These assholes would be declaring bankruptcy by the end of the month, if not sooner.
Sooner was good with me.
Satisfied, the funds cleared. I stepped back over to Forrest and Savannah.
"Let's get out of here," Forrest said.
"We can't let them sell the others," Savannah whispered. She was anxiously massaging the fingers of one hand with her other.
"Don't worry, we have associates. They'll be dealing with them." He nodded to the auctioneer, who nodded back before gesturing for us to leave before the shit hit the fan.
"Friend of yours?" I asked.
"In a manner of speaking." Forrest pressed his lips together in that way he did when he wasn't going to elaborate, no matter how much I pushed.
He was a stubborn prick when he wanted to be, and we didn't have time for this right now. I’d pin him down and ask later.
Whether or not he'd be forthcoming was another thing.
Forrest and his secrets were parted reluctantly at best.
I grabbed Savannah's arm and pulled her out to the street.
"What was that?" she demanded once we were safely clear. "Why did you do that? Where's Sable?"
As we walked to Woody's car, Forrest explained.
Savannah's face paled. "We can't leave her there. What if he… What if they…" She looked like she was going to be sick again.
"Yeah, what if they?" I asked.
"Then they're dead fucking meat." Forrest started the engine and peeled the car away from the curb. He was trying to play it cool, but he was as worried as I was. As Savannah was.
"Where are you taking me?" Savannah asked. She didn't seem convinced we were on her side. Of course not. I hated to think what she'd seen in the last handful of hours.
"Back to my apartment," Forrest told her. "You'll be safe there. Then we go after Sable."
Savannah leaned forward in her seat, her chin almost touching my shoulder. "I want to help."
"You can help by staying out of the way," Forrest said. "We have this under control."
"Sable is my best friend," Savannah started to argue.
"If you want to help her, let us do what we have to do," Forrest insisted. "We can't help her and keep an eye on you at the same time."
"If there's anything you can do, we'll let you know," I assured her, earning me a glance from Forrest.
He could glare at me as much as he wanted to. He knew, as well as I did, it was the only way to stop her from either being more insistent or following us when we left.
Besides, she might come in useful. Right now, we couldn't be sure she wouldn't. I wasn't going to rule out any help if it meant returning Sable to us.
Savannah exhaled loudly. "Fine, but the minute I can do something, you promise to tell me?"
"Of course we will," I said. "We know how much she means to you. She means a lot to us too." I tried to cover it with a smile, but the longer we were away from Sable, the more I worried about her.
Savannah was right, anything could be happening to her right now.
I tried not to think about it, but I couldn't keep the images out of my head. I had a fertile imagination, and I'd seen a lot.
Done a lot, too.
The senator could be peeling her skin off her body as we were driving. He could be touching her. He could be…
I shoved the thoughts away. Woody was with her. He'd make sure she was okay.
If he didn't, he'd be dead fucking meat too.