Chapter 3
Rami pushed away his coffee cup, his brain now in overdrive and no longer in need of caffeine. Gigi sat across from him at the boardroom table, her chicken wrap untouched. August hovered nearby. His pal of seven years sure seemed hung up on their new client despite his “it was just a fling” comment.
They’d spent the last hour and a half going over every detail of Ivy’s life: graduated from Washington State University with a major in art and a minor in graphic design. Traveled Europe for two years before digging roots into the Pacific Northwest. Owned and operated one of the top-rated photography studios in Seattle.
“And this ex, DJ, was it an amicable split?” Rami asked, referring to Gigi’s previous mention of the only guy in Ivy’s adult life.
Gigi cleared her throat. “Yeah, as it turned out, DJ... wasn’t into women. They’re still friends but haven’t seen each other in a few years. He moved to Costa Rica.”
Rami nodded slowly. Probably the only thing that’d deter a guy from a fox like Ivy. “’Kay.” Scratch the possibility of him having any involvement. “And dating apps? Did she... uh. You know. Have any kind of recent relations?”
Gigi blanched. “No. She would’ve told me. We tell each other everything.” She sighed heavily. “I appreciate your thoroughness, but this is the wrong angle.”
August swallowed another handful of French fries then wiped his mouth. “You never know who could be tied to things like this.”
She glanced at the head of the table, where August was stationed. “I realize that, but the idea that Ivy was a deliberate target seems like a stretch. Who would want to hurt a photographer? And by this means?”
August shrugged. “Disgruntled customers?”
Gigi’s head dropped to the side with exasperation. “You’re making me think I was wrong to come to you.”
“You didn’t come to me,” August said. “You went to him.” He nodded in Rami’s direction. And hell if August didn’t sound jealous as fuck.
“Look, Gigi,” Rami said. “We’re going to do everything we can to find your sister. But I need you to understand what we could be up against. Ivy could look quite different after sixteen days. Kidnappers often change their victim’s appearance, dye their hair, shit like that. Are there any markings like tattoos we could use to identify her...?” He didn’t want to say “body,” but that’s what he was getting at. If they came across a Jane Doe, he wanted Gigi to have undeniable proof that her sister was gone, for the sake of closure.
Gigi’s eyes grew small. Perhaps she’d picked up on his unsaid meaning? “No, she doesn’t have tattoos. She hates needles.” She straightened. “But she has a birthmark”—she held out her left hand—“right here.” She rubbed a spot on her hand below her middle finger. “It’s red and looks kind of like the body of a dog from the side.” She smiled fondly. “That’s what we said when we were kids.”
Rami jotted down the information on his notepad. “You don’t have the same birthmark? Aren’t you two identical?”
She shook her head. “We are. But we have small differences—birthmarks, freckles, things like that.”
Rami flicked his gaze to the photo next to his hand. “Makes sense.” He dropped his pen on the paper and stood. “All right. You can leave this with us and we’ll get started.”
Her gaze turned fearful. “What? No. I can’t leave.”
Jesus. Did she think they’d take her on a ride-along?
Before Rami could say anything, August leaned forward. “We need to put together a plan. Go over logistics. You have my word that finding Ivy is our priority.”
Rami fought the urge to roll his eyes. He’d seen many sides of August, but swooning wasn’t one of ’em. And he sure as hell didn’t make promises.
Gigi’s shoulders lowered an inch. “When will you start looking?”
August stood, as if he sensed Rami’s patience thinning. “Well, the sooner we can meet with our team, the sooner we can make progress.”
She chewed her lip then, trembling, slowly rose to her full height of five foot nothing. “Right.” She pushed back her unbrushed hair and picked up her purse. “Will you let me know? I mean... how long will it take?”
This time Rami didn’t hide his scoff. “Ma’am, at this point, we don’t even know where to start.”
August shot him a withering glare.
“But we’ll call you in a few hours and let you know where we’re at,” he added. Mostly so August didn’t leap across the table and pummel him.
He’d sparred with August more than once, and although he’d beaten him fifty-fifty, he hadn’t fought a lovesick August—and that looked like a whole new beast.
Gigi gave a nod and left the room.
August shut the door and folded his arms. “She lost her sister, man. She doesn’t know our process and just wants Ivy back in one piece. You’d do the same for family.”
Rami blinked slowly. His friend’s words had touched a nerve.
I’d have fucking done everything for Zain.
Rami held up a hand in surrender. “Fine. I’m not trying to upset anyone. I just don’t know how we’re going to find out where this woman is.” He checked the clock on the wall. “Where the fuck is Toth?”
August sat in the seat he’d vacated moments before. “He texted fifteen minutes ago. Should be here any—”
The conference room door opened and Toth walked in. His brown hair was slightly disheveled, his beard scruffier than usual. Some color was gone from his usually robust-looking face. Shit, maybe he’d been really sick.
Rami nodded in greeting. “Hey.”
Toth clapped August on the back and took the seat across from Rami, where Gigi had sat. “Sorry ’bout yesterday.” He folded his arms on the table. “And for being late.” His gray eyes held a weight they didn’t normally carry.
Actually, ever since Toth had met his girlfriend, Savannah, almost a year ago, the two of them had been sickeningly happy. The extra bounce in Toth’s step and his chipper grin usually got on Rami’s nerves, but now the angst in his friend’s eyes was having the same effect.
He’d ask what was going on, but Toth was a private man. He wouldn’t share anything personal in front of August. The two got along great, but Toth was hesitant to get too close to their employees.
“No problem. You’re here now. We’ll fill you in.”
Over the next half hour, they went through all the details regarding Ivy’s disappearance, her background, and the stupid promises August had made their new client.
Toth hiked an eyebrow. “Tell me again why we took on this contract?”
August crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “You got something against rescuing a woman from possible human traffickers?”
Toth smirked. “All right, smart-ass. You’re pretty confident. Where do we go from here?”
August cocked an arrogant eyebrow. “Let me make a phone call. I think I’ve got a starting point.” He rapped his knuckles on the table and stood. “I’ll be in my office.”
Rami zeroed in on Toth after August left. “You look like shit.”
His old friend grunted. “Yeah, I know.”
“Still sick?”
Toth averted his gaze. “Nah.”
He didn’t want to push, but if something had happened between Savannah and Toth, Rami needed to know about it. ’Cause there was no way Toth could function at optimum caliber with a broken fucking heart. “Everything okay on the home front?”
Toth scrubbed both hands over his face and let out a low grunt. “Yeah, it’s just—”
Rami squinted. He’d never seen Toth bent out of shape like this. When Savannah went missing almost a year ago, he’d been a fucking wreck. But this was different. Rami waited, holding back questions even though they needed to put their personal shit aside so they could—
“Sav’s pregnant.”
Rami’s stomach bottomed out. “No shit,” he whispered.
A constricted chuckle followed. “I know.”
“Damn,” he muttered. “I mean, uh, congratulations.”
The tension left Toth’s face, and he let loose a laugh. “Thanks. I’m happy about it. It’s just—been a little overwhelming for Sav...”
Rami didn’t know much about Savannah’s personal life, but he’d gleaned enough during her kidnapping and rescue to know that she’d had a difficult past. “That must be hard.”
“Yeah. It was a roller coaster of emotions all weekend. We’re doing good now, and she’s really fucking ecstatic—it’s setting in for her.”
“Guess you already got started on the dark circles and dad bod.” Rami quirked his lips.
Toth roared and tossed a pen at Rami. “You’re such a douche.” Footsteps sounded from the hallway. “Keep this between us.”
Rami nodded as August strode in, resuming his seat at the table. “Well, lazy asses, I’ve got a lead.”
“This better be good,” Toth mumbled.
“Damn right,” Rami agreed. “I mean, the police have been on this for sixteen days and you’ve got a lead before them?” Skepticism rang in his voice. As much as he wanted a jump start on this job, August getting intel from a mere phone call seemed too good to be true.
“I didn’t say that,” August conceded. He folded his arms on the table. “One thing Gigi said stuck to me. About the woman she overheard approaching Ivy seconds before she was taken. The woman asked if Ivy had seen her missing dog.”
“I remember.” Rami nodded. Gigi had been adamant that this was a big clue. But unless they could see the woman’s face or place her voice to a name, it meant shit.
“So I called my guy, Simon, in the missing persons unit of the police department. He said there’s been a few similar reportings across Washington state and California—woman approaches from a van talking about her missing dog. Some people got away or were interrupted by bystanders but felt that the incident was weird enough to report.”
“All right. So they’ve tried this before. That’s not shocking.” Rami tapped his index finger on the table.
“No shit.” August pulled his tablet closer and moved his fingers over the screen then flipped it around to show Rami and Toth. “This woman was spotted in Baja, California, near the Mexican border. One of her recent failed attempts, on a nineteen-year-old girl, was reported with a license plate number. Surveillance footage found her at a gas station. She must’ve been spooked because not long after, the car turned up abandoned.”
Interest surged through Rami, and he motioned August to move the screen closer. On it was a woman with long, curly hair standing at a gas pump. She was stout, with a heavy middle, and had a rigid stance to her. Like a horse ready to bolt.
August swiped the screen, and the woman’s mug shot took up the frame. “Name’s Marty Hilliard. Forty-three years old and has a history—possession of heroin and procurement in the sex industry.”
Tension collected at the back of Rami’s throat. Anger made his vision blur. What the woman did with her own body was her choice, but if she subjected innocent women like Ivy to sex trafficking—which she sure as fuck had—he’d lose his shit.
“Where is she now?” Toth barked.
Rami itched with urgency. He didn’t need any more convincing. August was right. This was Ivy’s kidnapper. Had to be.
“That we don’t know.”
“What do the police have on her?” Rami asked.
“Looks like she’s seeing this guy,” August brought up another photo on the screen of a gangly man. The pitted scars on his cheeks and partially visible rotten teeth indicated heavy drug use.
“Name’s Wayne Debois and he’s got numerous drug charges,” August continued. “One charge for attempted rape.”
Rami’s blood pressure hit a dangerous level.
August lowered the tablet to the table. “Simon told me they made the connection to Marty this morning and found out she’s got a son. He’s already been questioned and claims to know nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Rami growled. A few hours ago, he hadn’t wanted to touch this case with a twenty-foot pole. Now, he was growing more invested by the minute.
“If we could get the son’s phone records—”
Rami lifted his hand and looked at Toth. “How good are you at getting phone records?”
Toth’s mouth morphed into a smirk. “Faster than the cops.”
August hooked up an eyebrow. “Yeah? How so?”
“He doesn’t need a fucking warrant.” Rami grinned and rocked back in his seat. Toth had access to a lot of tech stuff through his formerly long-lost brothers. Thanks to Toth’s connections, Rami had been able to add facial recognition, hacking, phone tracking, and many other techniques to their repertoire of tools. Not that they needed those things too often, given that their business focused on bodyguard services, but they’d come in handy more than once. Especially in the case of finding Savannah.
“All right.” Rami looked pointedly at August. “Let Taschen and the interns know they might have to work doubles the next couple days. If we get a solid lead on Marty’s location, we’ll need to move fast.”
“Copy that,” August said, his stance soldier-ready.
Toth tented his fingers beneath his chin. Rami didn’t need to be a mind reader to guess he was anxious about leaving Savannah. Shit.
He shot his friend a glance and gave him a reassuring nod. They’d figure something out. He flicked his wrist to read the time: 12:18p.m. “Toth, I need you to get the son’s phone records. August, give Toth the kid’s name and all the details you have.”
August nodded. “Then what?”
“If Toth gets any leads from the records, he’ll give them to me and I’ll do some digging. Might need your help with that.”
“What about Gigi?” August asked, tension furrowing his brow.
Rami grimaced. “I don’t want to get her hopes up. Tell her we’ll be working around the clock and will update her accordingly.”
August relaxed a bit, as if the reassurance that they’d make this search the priority had eased his mind. But his downcast focus revealed uncertainty. He scratched his head. “It’d be best if you called Gigi.”
Rami rubbed his eyebrow. Whatever the hell had gone on between August and their client was giving him enough headache to rub the tattoo from his face. “Fine,” he grunted. “We’ll convene at 10:00p.m. Try to catch some sleep. If we get anything hot, we’ll need to move fast.”
“I’ll get the med supplies ready,” August said, his tone heavier than an avalanche.
Rami closed his eyes for a beat. August’s medic training was an asset to the team, but they had no clue what kind of physical shape Ivy would be in if they found her.
And if they did find her, there was a slim fucking chance she’d be in one piece.