Chapter 20
Late Sunday morning
“So that’swhat you’re gonna do, my man.” Big Daddy savored the word. “Or I’m gonna tell the world what you really are. A creep that does little girls. Then your ass will be ruined.”
“Okay, okay!” The man mopped his sweat-soaked forehead. “I can get Elaine Prescott for you. I don’t know how you expect me to grab her–”
“Just get me the information and I’ll do the rest,” Big Daddy said. “Can you get it today?”
“I’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” the man insisted. “There are cameras all over the buildings and if I’m seen going in on Sunday, someone will be suspicious, especially if I open the files and there’s today’s date on them.”
“All right,” Big Daddy said, conceding the point. “I guess Sunday being a day of rest, I can wait. But I’ve got people watching you. For all you know, I’ve hacked into your phone and can track not only your calls but your movements. But you damn well be started on this first thing tomorrow morning. You got that?”
“Yeah. Those guys standing next to Elaine Prescott in the photo you showed me. Who are they?”
“Not your business,” Big Daddy snarled. “Just get me the information by 8:30 am tomorrow or you’re gonna be very, very sorry. Best hurry along before your wife and kids wonder where you’ve gone.”
The man was shaking so hard he had to grip the edge of the desk to haul himself out of the chair. He started to speak but one look at Big Daddy shut him up. He stumbled all the way to the office door and closed it behind him.
“Little wuss,” Big Daddy announced to the empty room. “Guess I’ll have to kill him too when this is all over. But only after I’ve let him sweat for a day or two.”
He stretched out his legs and considered the upcoming week. The Honeys had arrived last Wednesday, but every one of ‘em was on their period or something stupid like that, so they’d been useless for the past few days. Least that’s what Fritz and Wilma, the couple he’d hired to watch them, said when they moved them to the new place last Friday. He should kill them for letting the Driscoll kid get away after arranging a hook-up with someone. The man had paid good money for the kid, who never showed up and now wanted his money back.
At least Silas Clark wouldn’t be causing him any more problems. The man deserved to die for his betrayal Thinking he could cheat Big Daddy? The dude was too stupid to live. He wished he’d found out how the Prescott bitch and her BP boyfriend had learned about The Honeys in the first place. They were a royal pain in his ass and a major disruption to his business.
But by tomorrow, Elaine Prescott and her BP boyfriend would be dead, and he’d have The Cadre right where he wanted them. He wondered what those two bartenders from Sapphire’s did to get arrested. No matter. Let them rot. And now that damn Deidre was gone. Just cleared out her locker and left. You couldn’t trust women for nothing.
He’d have to get Tina to help him snatch Elaine Prescott. Now that he was letting her work at his club, she owed him. Like most women, butter ‘em up, and they’d do whatever you wanted.
Except for the do-gooders like Elaine Prescott, sticking her nose in his business. Only answer for a woman like that was to kill her.
Sunday Afternoon
“Wouldyou go through the lists and identify the largest rental properties?” Griff asked. “I’m going to go play on the Dark Web and see if there’s any chatter in the pedophile groups.”
They’d returned to the safehouse and put together a substantial Sunday lunch. Both Griff and Patrick had insisted she rest her arm and set about preparing an amazing meal.
“After all, it’s Sunday,” Patrick said as he chopped and stirred. “We need to rest some time, and we’ve got a lot to do today. Hank still has me doing some work on another case, so I’ll be gone for hours. Leftovers for dinner.”
He’d gone after lunch, insisting he do the clean-up. Now he was gone, and they were alone. “Pedophile groups?” Elaine now asked. “You visit them?”
“Yeah. Didn’t Anne tell you?”
Recalling her conversations with Anne and Mac about Griff Tyler’s ‘genius’ in all things IT, Elaine said, “Anne told me you have a double MS in IT and Web Design from MIT and can hack into anything. How old were you when you graduated?”
“Twenty-two. And before you ask, I got my bachelor’s degrees from UT Knoxville when I was nineteen thanks to all those Advanced Placement courses in high school. Had half my undergrad degree when I started, so…”
His voice trailed away, and Elaine leaned back in her chair. “Anne said you were ‘scary smart’ She was right.”
“Ah, shucks, Miss Elaine.” He put his hands on his cheeks and batted his eyes. “You’re embarrassing me,” and she laughed.
“But I created a persona for when I visit pedophile chat rooms,” he continued, the humor gone from his voice. “I’m ‘Loves Little Boys” and so far, no one has figured out who I really am or what I do. Used my computer skills in the private sector for two years before I joined the Marines.”
“Any reason for that? Joining the Marines?”
“Thought it would be fun,” he said simply.
“Even with a jar-head haircut?” she teased.
“That from a woman with super-short hair?” He winked at her. “Besides, I saved a ton of money in shampoo.”
They spent the next few hours working in companionable silence, occasionally punctuated by Griff’s soft exclamations of disgust. Finally, he shut down the computer and rolled back in his office chair.
“I need a break,” he announced. “I can only do this for so long. It’s sickening.”
“Any chatter?” Elaine put down her pen.
“Yeah, a lot of it.” Griff stood and unfolded his long frame, stretching his arms over his head. “Some even know that The Honeys are coming and are trying to finagle a way to hook up with them. Someone even found a picture of them.” He lowered his arms and his regard of her was solemn. “I think Chelsea is in it. Do you-do want to see it?”
So close. We’re so close. No matter what, I can deal with it. Elaine returned his examining look and nodded. “In for a penny, in for a pound Send it.”
He tapped his keyboard and a photo flashed on Elaine’s screen. Standing in the middle of a group of skillfully made-up girls dressed like cheerleaders in midriff bearing tops and the shortest skirts Elaine had ever seen, was Chelsea. Her pale blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and her grin was wide as if she was having the best time ever.
But it was a forced grin, tight and a bit unreal. Fear and anxiety glimmered in her eyes as she stared back at the viewer in a silent plea to come get her and the others.
“Hello, girl.” Elaine’s finger traced the screen’s image. “Lookin’ good and all grown up.”
“She looks a lot like you.” Behind her, Griff’s words were a comfort and a blessing. “Except for the hair. Does your mom have hair color like yours?”
“Yeah, and so did Chelsea’s mom, Ruth. We all have the beauty mark too.” Elaine blinked hard and looked up at him. “Thanks.”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “For what?”
“For this.” She pointed at the screen. “For helping me find her. For BP. For being you.”
“My pleasure, ma’am. Let me give you some help with those lists.”
They continued to search, eliminating properties that were too small and too far away. After a couple of hours, they agreed it was time for another break.
And all the while, Elaine felt a desire coursing over her. A desire to be lying beside him, feeling his strength pulsing through her.
It was insane. She’d known him five days. This couldn’t be love. Could it?
Anne had told her she hadn’t been able to believe how quickly and completely she fell in love with Mac. “So much was happening,” she’d said. “Danger all around us, never knowing what would happen next, even if we might be killed. It just happened.”
“Whatcha thinking?” Griff’s question intruded into her thoughts.
She seized the moment. “I was thinking that since we’re both kind of injured, we should follow Patrick’s advice about–you know–resting?”
“You mean, like lying down and taking a nap?”
There was a different quality to his voice. One she hadn’t heard before. She only recognized it because it echoed her own.
It was desire.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “Lying down. I’m not sure about the nap.”
Without a word, he led her to her room and closed the door.
And because it was Sunday, they took their time with their lovemaking. Gentle and fierce, slow and quick, giving and receiving pleasures that took them to and into the fields of ecstasy that left them breathless.
And when they were still, reluctant to move out of each other’s embrace, they shared parts of their lives few people knew. Things that haunted and tormented them and left them racked with guilt. He told her again of the Obando children and she told him of her guilt of not protecting Chelsea enough. Tears were kissed away, and jokes made about silly things.They even slept for a short while.
And never was the word “future” spoken. The question of it hung silent between them, an unknown best left unknown for now.
When they woke, Griff rolled over and picked up his watch from the nightstand. “Wow, it’s nearly six o’clock. I’d like you to think I can keep going, but I’m getting hungry. What about you?”
“Actually, I’m famished,” Elaine declared. “And with all of Patrick’s cooking, there’s more than enough to eat. Do you think he knows about us?”
He wiggled his eyebrows. “Probably. Do you mind?”
“No. Do you?”
“Not a bit. Why do you ask?”
“Because,” she whispered. “I’d really like to wake up tomorrow morning with you by my side. If that’s okay with you.”
He leaned over to kiss the tip of her nose. “I can’t think of anything I’d like better,” he said. “But I’d still hate for him to come in and find us all naked and stuff, so let’s get up,” and moved before the pillow she was swinging made contact.
Leftovers satisfied them, but even after the cheese and fruit plate, Elaine said, “You know. I’m craving something really sweet.”
“I think there are chocolate chip cookies in that tin up there.” Griff pointed at the top of a wall cabinet. “Not sure why Patrick put them up there, but I think there are some. Let me get the footstool and I’ll get it down.”
“Be careful,” Elaine warned as he took the three-step stool from the pantry and unfolded it. “Are you sure that thing is safe? It looks sort of rickety.”
“It’s fine,” Griff said, climbing up. “And it’s only three steps. I might have to stand on tippy-toe to reach it but–holy crap!”
The stool collapsed, bringing him down hard on his bad knee, his left-hand folding back as he curled up, and his right arm curled around his chest.
“Griff!” Elaine knelt on the floor beside him. “Lord help us. Where does it hurt?”
“Everywhere,” he moaned. “Geez-oh-pete, everywhere.”
“Hey kids!” Patrick’s voice called from the living room. “I’ve brought a guest to dinner! Where are–”
He stooped in the kitchen doorway and stared. A much shorter man with a neatly trimmed beard peered around him and for a moment, the only sound was Griff’s soft groans.
“Well, well,” said the shorter man. “Guess it’s a good thing that this old doctor still makes house calls.”