Chapter 4
GEMMA
Rescue was as boring as abduction. Or maybe it was the hospital.
There was endless waiting for a specialist to give a verdict on her ankle.
No one wanted to treat anything else until the fracture was resolved, but a human ankle was complicated.
Apparently. Everyone told her to rest—what else was she going to do with her foot in a temporary cast?
No one answered any of her questions. Where were the others? How are they? Did they catch the bad guys? When would Emry get here?
Nothing.
Zalis did hook her up with a comm unit that apparently had the unlimited plan to call Earth.
She should. Her fingers hovered over the screen, ready to dial her assistant manager.
The bakery’s rent and utilities were on autopay, but not the suppliers or the payroll.
She couldn’t imagine any of her employees sticking around when the paychecks failed to arrive.
She didn’t blame them. Bills had to be paid.
Gemma hesitated. Business could wait. She’d been gone for weeks. Another day wouldn’t matter. Besides, there’d be questions. “I was abducted by a human trafficking ring and sold to aliens” was never going to be a quick conversation. Everything that she had to say, she wanted to say to Emry first.
Except Emry wasn’t answering her phone. Ren assured her that Emry was on her way, but until Emry showed up, the parade of non-sister visitors continued.
Gemma folded her arms across her chest. “I’m sorry. I’m done.”
Her latest visitor was a cop, or constable, as they were called in the Sangrin system.
The quaint job title did not lull Gemma into a false sense of security.
Constable Pama radiated hostility, from her tone right down to the way she tossed her horns back and sniffed when she didn’t like Gemma’s answers.
“I am gathering information,” Pama said, with a horn toss and a sniff.
“You’re asking the same questions three different ways.”
“For veracity.”
For veracity.
“You think I’m lying? You think I got into that cage for the fun of it?
Or maybe for attention?” Gemma wanted to leap out of her bed and throw hands.
She glared at the cop, and just in case she missed the subtle body language that she was pissed, she added, “Good thing my ankle’s broken or I’d bea—”
Ren’s hand on her shoulder stopped her from finishing that threat. Cops were cops, no matter the star system. Threatening them was always a bad idea.
“Gemmarae is in a great deal of pain from a fractured ankle and requires rest before surgery. Your information gathering can wait,” Ren said.
Said. Not suggested. Gemma liked that.
“And you are?” the officer asked.
“Her brother.”
Ren stared down Constable Pama. She stared right back.
Gemma begrudgingly admired the woman’s resolve.
Ren wasn’t the biggest Mahdfel warrior she’d ever seen.
That honor went to Zalis, though Havik was a close second.
He was, however, several inches taller than Constable Pama, had that orcish devil thing going on, and had a damn intimidating face.
“And the one lurking outside?” Pama asked.
Zalis lurked in the hallway, silent as always.
“That one is my associate. He was instrumental in locating Gemmarae,” Ren said. “He does not lurk.”
Zalis most certainly did. Honestly, Gemma didn’t mind. No one was going to burst into her room and kidnap her. She knew that, logically, but fear of that exact scenario lingered in the back of her mind. Every unexpected sound or loud noise made her jump and hospitals were noisy.
Having Zalis there was nice. Reassuring. Absolutely no one was getting stolen under his watch. As far as Gemma was concerned, he could lurk to his heart’s content.
Pama tossed her hands in the air. “I suppose it does not matter. The traffickers abandoned the warehouse more than twenty-four hours ago. The trail is cold and the likelihood of capture is slim. A few more hours will not make a difference.”
“That can’t be right,” Gemma blurted out.
“They benefit from a massive head start. Chances are they are no longer in the system.”
“Then get some evidence and find them. We’re not dealing with criminal masterminds.”
“There is a chain of custody. The scene has been compromised.” Pama gave Ren a withering look. “Any evidence we do find cannot be admitted in court.”
“If they are not in the system, then we will find a record of them leaving the planet. Flight plans. Manifests,” Ren said.
“Tholla is a busy hub. Hundreds of vessels leave every hour. Finding one ship will be difficult. If we do, we must assume that their vessel is registered with false credentials and a false flight plan.”
“I gave you a description,” Gemma said. “Can’t you search the security footage? A busy hub has security cameras, right?”
“I have a vague description.” Pama consulted her tablet and read, “Tall. Complexion like an eggplant, whatever that is. Horns. Ugly. The one in charge was a weasel—again, no idea what that is—with a gold hoop in his horn. No indication of which horn.”
She didn’t need to add what she thought about that unhelpful description. Gemma could see it on her face.
Gemma wasn’t an interstellar transportation expert, but she ran a successful small business.
She knew all about invoices, manifests, and inventory.
“What about searching for a manifest that conflicts with the weight of the cargo? It’s not like the jerks are going to list ‘human cargo for auction’ on the manifest. Or do you not inspect ships that come into port? ”
“The port authority manages all incoming ships. I would need a warrant to request such information, and I do not have enough evidence for that request to be granted.”
Oh, that was a load of bullshit. Hot and steaming. Pama just didn’t want to bother.
“So it’s catch them red-handed or nothing?” Gemma asked, disdain in her voice.
“No one’s hands are red.”
“My hands are red,” Ren said, as if that were helpful.
Pama and Gemma both glared at him. He seemed unconcerned.
“And the Suhlik who took Ines, Maria, Scarlett, Amariah, Madilyn, and Jessica? He just gets away?”
“There’s no precedent for such behavior from the Suhlik,” Pama replied, the dismissive answer ready without hesitation.
“They took six people. Six human women.”
“I have heard your claims—”
“They have names! Ines, Maria, Scarlett, Amariah, Madilyn, and Jessica. They’re not claims.”
“There’s no evidence those women were taken.”
“I would think nine eyewitnesses count as evidence,” Gemma snapped.
“You were in physical and emotional distress,” Pama said, voice taking on a too-sweet, pandering tone. “Your testimony is spurious.”
Spurious. Spurious. Like she would make up something this horrible?
“What about the people who took me on Earth?” Gemma asked, no longer bothering to hide her frustration. “I can give you a name and a description.”
“Out of my jurisdiction. Earth authorities will have to pursue the matter,” Pama answered.
“Those guys? They’re not pursuing anything but donuts—”
Ren interrupted, cutting her off before she could fully express her dim views about the Earth authorities. “My mate reported her sister missing and was informed that the matter would not be pursued. I did what was necessary since Earth would not.”
Gemma did not know that. Huh. Her opinion of the guy went up a notch.
“You’d think a small business owner going missing would raise some concern,” Gemma added. “How long was I missing?”
“An Earth month,” Ren answered.
“A month. That’s employees not getting paid. People notice when their morning coffee and muffin place is closed. But apparently, random women getting snatched is no big deal.”
“The deal is very big,” Ren agreed, his tone serious.
“And the guy who grabbed me has contacts here. Surely that’s of interest to you.”
“We cannot make that assumption. Illegal cargo from Earth arrived in our system. How many times you exchanged hands, it is impossible to say.”
Gemma wanted to scream at being reduced to illegal cargo. Another thing to be bartered and traded—property without rights.
“So, the people who took and sold me won’t face any consequences?” she asked.
“It is out of my jurisdiction,” Pama repeated.
It was like talking to a brick wall. Worse. A brick wall might have a weak spot of crumbly masonry. Constable Pama’s shield was invincible. Local law enforcement couldn’t be bothered.
If she returned to Earth, there was nothing to stop the same thing from happening to her again. She had no illusions that the police would do anything about Barney or the boss he worked for. Emry reported her missing, and they didn’t care.
Gemma couldn’t imagine that no one reported her missing.
Surely, when she didn’t open the bakery the first day, her assistant manager would check on her.
Clarissa wouldn’t even wait a day or two.
She’d storm upstairs to Gemma’s apartment and demand to know why no one started the day’s baking.
Clarissa wasn’t one to suffer fools or lazy bakers.
That was at least one person and her sister reporting her missing, and no one did a thing, except Ren.
The message was clear. Gemma was on her own.
Fear sank its hooks into her, sharper and deeper than anything she had experienced.
More than waking up in a cage.
More than the time her family spent huddled in the basement, sheltering from a raid.
More than when her father told them about his cancer and she knew her family would be changed forever.
This fear wouldn’t be rationalized away. It wouldn’t ease with a few calming breaths. It shouted for her to run. Now. Because her life depended on it.
Constable Pama folded her tablet with a snap, dragging Gemma back to herself. “I’ll contact you again if I have any more questions for the investigation.”
The interview was over and, as far as Gemma could tell, pointless.
ZALIS
Zalis heard every word. More importantly, he heard the frustration in Gemma’s voice. It would not do.