Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Derek Lang balled his hands into fists, then ordered himself to relax. It seemed like Elizabeth Forester had dropped off the face of the earth. It could be that she’d cut her losses and cleared out of town, but he wouldn’t bet on it. When he’d figured out that she was poking into his business, he’d started digging up everything he could about the nosy bitch. One thing he knew was that she was persistent. When she got a notion in her head, she wouldn’t let it go. Which meant that he’d better be prepared for whatever she had in mind.
He called in Gary Southwell, noting the way the man fought to hide his case of nerves.
“Did you get a report from The Mansion?” Derek asked.
“Yes. Everything’s normal out there, except one of the cameras malfunctioned.”
“Why?”
“We don’t know.”
“There’s no chance someone could have tampered with it?”
“Not unless they climbed up on the roof.”
“Who was on duty at the time?”
Southwell named several men, including Tony Verrazano.
“Any of them report anything unusual.”
“No, sir.”
“Well, I want everyone extra alert.”
Elizabeth and Matt spent the day preparing for their invasion of The Mansion. After breakfast, they both went to a local department store where Elizabeth bought a negligee like the ones she’d seen the women wearing. None of them had been wearing underwear. But because she hated the idea of walking around in a gown so revealing, she also purchased a chemise she could wear underneath.
Matt bought a sport coat and slacks on sale, an outfit that would make him look like the bordello’s upscale patrons.
“We’d better stop at a drugstore,” she said when they finished the clothes shopping. “I need some cosmetics, or I’m going to look out of place in there.”
She’d already bought grey eye shadow and lipstick. She added foundation, blusher, and mascara, going for products that weren’t too expensive and hoping she’d be able to apply them artfully.
She and Matt brought lunch back to the motel room and spent the next few hours discussing various scenarios, but it was clear they could only go so far with the plans. Neither one of them knew exactly what would happen when they arrived at the bordello, and all they could do was outline several contingencies—which basically involved Matt’s keeping the management busy at the front of the house while she got the women out the back.
“How are you going to get away?” she asked.
“The same way I got in.”
“You may need me to reinforce the messages you’re sending. I can …”
He gave her a grim look. “Once you get the women out of there, you will not return.”
She knew she had to agree, and she worked hard to keep him from realizing that she might be unable to keep her word.
“Get some sleep,” he told her as she paced the motel room.
“I don’t know if I can.”
He closed the drapes, then lay down in the bed with her, cradling her in his arms.
They were both too keyed up to sleep, but it was comforting to be together like this.
Finally, it was time to start getting ready.
“We should eat. I’ll get more burgers and shakes.”
“We haven’t exactly been following a healthy diet, Dr. Delano.”
“But it must do, for now, Ms. Social Worker.”
She laughed, glad that they were able to joke a little in such dire circumstances.
But when he returned with the food, Elizabeth could barely choke any down. Finally, she gave up, changed into the chemise and gown she’d bought, and went into the bathroom to start playing with the cosmetics.
She began with foundation, then went on to lipstick, blusher, and eye shadow. Standing back, she studied the effect, astonished at how different she looked.
When she came out, Matt did a double take.
“Wow.”
“You like the effect?”
“You know I do.” He eyed the gown. “I guess you fixed it so you can’t see through it.”
“I hope so.”
She slipped her feet into mules, then reached for the light raincoat she’d bought.
Glad it was already getting dark, she crossed to the car and got in. When they arrived at the rendezvous spot, Sabrina was pacing back and forth, looking anxious. As they pulled up, she visibly relaxed.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“I understand, but I had no intention of backing out,” Elizabeth answered.
Sabrina eyed her outfit and makeup. “Nobody would take you for a social worker now.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“If you like looking sexy.”
“I like it,” Matt broke into the exchange.
Sabrina introduced them to a woman named Brenda, who worked at the shelter.
“Thank you for doing this,” she said. “We can house them once they come to us, but we’re an underground organization, and we can’t call attention to ourselves.”
“I know that,” Elizabeth answered. “But we’ll get them to safety.”
Brenda nodded, and Elizabeth wondered if the woman thought she could really pull this off.
As it turned out, Brenda was part of the operation. She would drive the van, and Sabrina would come along to help calm the women and keep order.
Matt would have to go in his car because he’d arrive at the front door like any normal customer.
She saw the tension on his face and knew he was worried about her.
“I’ll be okay.”
“Just be careful.” He turned to Sabrina. “Can you give the names of some of the men who … you were with in the house.”
“I don’t know any of their last names.”
“Give me some first names.”
“There was Harry. Another one was Martin.”
“Okay. I can use that. And you said the woman who runs the place is Mrs. Vivian.”
“Yes.”
“Then we’re all set,” he said, projecting confidence. Turning back to Elizabeth, he said, “See you soon.”
She gave him a fierce hug before climbing into the van. She could still feel his worry as Brenda drove away, and she kept the connection with him as long as possible. When it snapped off, she clenched her fists, feeling suddenly very alone. She had gotten used to reading his mind, and now the connection had been cut off. But she’d get it again, she told herself. He’d be following in his car, and he’d arrive twenty minutes after she did.
She refocused her attention on her current reality.
“Don’t head straight for the house,” she told Brenda. “Drive past, and I’ll show you where to park.”
She directed Brenda up a dirt road into the woods to the place she and Matt had used when they’d come on their reconnaissance mission.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Sabrina asked.
“I appreciate the offer,” Elizabeth told her. “But I think you should stay at the edge of the woods. That way, I’ll be alone and less conspicuous.”
She saw relief flood Sabrina’s features. Although she knew the other woman had been prepared to go in if necessary, she also knew that the worst experiences of her life had taken place in that house. And the idea of stepping back into The Mansion terrified her. She also knew Sabrina would have done it if Elizabeth had asked.
They made their way through the darkened woods, using the lights from the house as a beacon and circling around so that they were opposite the kitchen door.
Elizabeth and Matt had discussed how to handle the cameras. They’d already disabled one, and doing it again might put the security staff on alert. They’d decided her best bet was to keep her head down and walk to the back door. She wouldn’t be visible until she was close, and hopefully, anyone watching would think one of the girls had just slipped outside for a minute.
She watched for the guards she and Matt had seen. Just after one walked across the lawn between her and house, she strode across the lawn and made it to the back stoop, where she stood shaking, waiting for someone to burst outside and grab her. After more than a minute had passed, she breathed out a little sigh.
She’d gotten this far without any problems. Now came the actual test.
Cautiously, she tiptoed to the window beside the back door and looked in. A man, probably one of the security staff, was in the kitchen helping himself to food from the refrigerator, and she waited with her heart pounding while he loaded a plate.
Don’t sit down at the kitchen table, she told him repeatedly. Take the food where you’ll be more comfortable.
Her breath was shallow as she waited to see what he would do. He stood in the kitchen for endless seconds, holding the plate, before finally leaving the room with the food.
When he was gone, she remembered to breathe again. She wanted to get this over with; and at the same time, she was glad that she’d had a little more time before she had to go in there.
She turned the knob and pushed the door open, then stepped inside and quietly closed the door behind her.
Taking a few steps forward, she looked for the back stairs that Sabrina had told her about. She also saw a short hallway and knew it led to the guard station.
“Get it over with,” she ordered herself, then crossed to the hallway and tiptoed farther into the house. At the end of the hall, she could see a small room with monitors flickering. The man who’d gotten the food was sitting with his back to her, looking at screens showing various views of the grounds. The plate was on a table beside him. Apparently, he’d left his post and hadn’t been looking at the monitors when she’d crossed the lawn. That was one stroke of luck. Hopefully, her luck would hold.
Gathering her power, she sent a beam of energy to the back of his head, holding it as long as she could, hoping she’d put him in a coma.
Because tying him up would be too suspicious, she left him slumped in the chair and headed back toward the steps, which she climbed rapidly. At the top, she paused, getting her bearings.
From the shadows where she stood, she saw a middle-aged man and a young brunette woman step out of a bedroom, and Elizabeth pressed herself against the wall. But the guy didn’t even notice her. All his attention was focused on his companion.
He gave her a familiar pat on the rear, then strode to the front steps. The brunette was achingly young-looking, and Elizabeth could only imagine what she’d been through since leaving her own country.
She stood staring after him, a resigned expression on her face, then glanced up as Elizabeth hurried toward her.
Surprise flooded her face as she stared at the woman who had materialized in the hallway.
“Who are you? Are you new here? Did you come in with another shipment?” she asked in heavily accented English.
“No. I’m helping Sabrina. I’m a social worker from Baltimore, and I met her there. I told her I’d return here for the rest of you.”
The statement was met with astonishment. “We haven’t seen Sabrina in months.”
“She’s fine.”
“Truly?”
“Yes. She and I worked out a plan to get the rest of you out of this place.”
Fear and uncertainty flooded the woman’s face. “You can’t get us out of the house; we’re guarded.”
“Sabrina got out. You can, too,” she answered, silently projecting that escape from this hellhole was possible. “What’s your name?”
“Maria.”
“I’m Elizabeth.”
“You’re sure we can get away? And they won’t kill us?” she asked in a shaky voice, her accent thickening with her mixed emotions.
“Yes. Do you know how many … guests are in the house.”
“Not many. It’s still early.”
“I need your help, Maria,” Elizabeth said, projecting calm and certainty. “We need to get the other girls together.”
Hope warred with fear on the woman’s face. “Yes, all right. But some of them are downstairs, waiting for patrons.”
“Get the ones up here together,” Elizabeth said, knowing that they would have to wait for Matt to arrive to complete the mission.
Matt pulled into the long drive and headed for the parking spaces at the front of The Mansion. There were only a couple of cars already on site, and he was glad there wouldn’t be too many civilians to deal with.
He got out, straightened his jacket, and walked confidently to the front door where he rang the bell.
After a few seconds, a nice-looking middle-aged woman opened the door. She was the woman he’d seen through the window when they’d been here the day before. Tonight she was wearing a beaded black dress and stylish pumps. She tipped her head to the side as she stared at him, obviously wondering who he was and how he’d got there.
“May I help you?”
“Mrs. Vivian?”
“Yes,” she answered cautiously.
“I’m a friend of Harry’s. He highly recommended this place if I wanted some relaxation.”
“Harry who?”
“Harry,” he repeated as he projected silent messages toward her. I’m a friend of Harry’s. You trust Harry, and you trust me. You’re so happy to have a new customer. You’re glad Harry referred me. Let me in.
He saw Mrs. Vivian wavering and poured on the reassuring messages.
“Come in,” she finally said.
He stepped into the front hall that was furnished with expensive-looking antiques. The hostess led him from there into an opulently furnished parlor. The rug on the polished wood floor was a palace-sized Oriental. The tables and chests were classic period pieces, and the sofas and chairs were comfortably modern.
“Harry told you our fees?” Mrs. Vivian murmured.
“Yes.”
“You pay in advance.”
“That’s fine.”
Five young women wearing negligees much like the one Elizabeth had donned were standing at one side of the room. They had been in various relaxed poses. When they saw him, they straightened, all of them arching their backs so that their breasts were thrust toward him.
So how did guys behave when they got here? Did they take some time to relax, or did they get right to business. Too bad he didn’t have any experience with high-class bordellos. Or sex for hire, come to that.
He walked toward them, pretending he was trying to decide which one he wanted to screw.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t just take all of them upstairs with him and disappear out the back way.
“What are your names?” he asked, stalling for time until he knew Elizabeth had gotten the first group out of the house.
They answered in turn, their English much like Sabrina’s.
“Blossom.”
“Daphne.”
“Tara.”
“Belinda.”
“Jasmine.”
“And what are you particularly good at?”
All of them flushed, but they began to name various sexual activities.
Upstairs, Elizabeth waited in the hall. She’d heard the doorbell ring, and she prayed that Matt had arrived.
When she reached for his mind, she found him and breathed out a sigh of relief.
Everything okay? he asked.
Yes. I’m going to take a bunch of women down the back stairs and into the kitchen. If the coast is clear, I’ll send them to Sabrina. She’s waiting at the edge of the woods.
There are five women down here. I’ll see if I can get them to the back of the house.
She broke off the voiceless conversation with Matt as Maria hurried back with six more women. Some looked frightened. Others looked doubtful.
“Everything’s going to be all right. We’ll go down the back stairs. The way I came up,” she said.
She debated whether to get them dressed in something more suitable for the outside, then decided that the better alternative was to get them away from the house as quickly as possible.
She put a finger to her lips in the universal symbol for quiet, then led the way down the stairs, pausing at the bottom to make sure that none of the guards had come back to get a snack.
The coast was clear, and she motioned for the others to follow.
The women peered around fearfully as they stepped into the kitchen, all of them looking like they expected a slave master to materialize out of nowhere and punish them for being downstairs.
It’s all right. Everything’s all right. You’re perfectly safe. You’re going to get away from here, Elizabeth kept assuring them. At the back door, she repeated the procedure she’d used when she’d arrived, waiting for a guard to pass. As soon as he had disappeared around the corner of the house, she opened the door and pointed toward the section of trees straight back from the door.
“Nobody is watching the video monitors. Sabrina is over there waiting for you. Go to her. She’ll get you to the van.”
The first woman cautiously stepped outside and started across the lawn. The rest followed, and Elizabeth watched them go. She breathed a small sigh as she saw them make it to the shelter of the trees. From the shadows, Sabrina waved, and Elizabeth waved back.
Now they just had to get the women out of the parlor, and they’d be home free.
She turned and made her way toward the front of the house and stopped short when she saw Matt.
I’m here, she said.
I’m going to tell Mrs. Vivian that I’d like to take this group of women into the kitchen.
Will that work?
She’s been completely cooperative so far.
But that could be problematic.
We’ll see.
She heard Matt switch his mental attention to the hostess.
I love cooking. I’m taking the girls into the kitchen for some treats.
“What?” the woman said aloud.
“We’re just going back to the kitchen to whip up some brownies,” Matt said, madly projecting the message to Mrs. Vivian that what he was doing was perfectly normal.
“Come on,” he said to the women.
None of them moved.
You get them to come with you out the back door. I’ll keep Mrs. Vivian in line until you tell me they’ve all reached the woods.
They had just started across the room when Matt heard a car pull up in the parking area.
Damn. It would have been better if they hadn’t had to deal with another guest.
As that thought flickered through Matt’s mind, the front door opened.
Another guest?
It was apparently someone so sure of his welcome here that he didn’t need to ring the bell or knock. The footsteps in the hall gave him a bad feeling.
Matt turned to see a tall, broad-shouldered man who appeared to be in his late forties stride into the room with the confidence of someone who knew no one would challenge him.
He stopped short when he saw Elizabeth, and a smile spread across his face.