whirled on him. “Our task force meeting is at seven.”
He was ushering her toward the exit again. She was too exhausted to put up a proper fight, verbal or otherwise. “Patterson and I rescheduled to nine considering we’ve been up all night. Now let’s go before I call him back and change it to ten.”
“Fine.”
“Fine,” he echoed.
She loaded into the passenger seat of his shiny Mercedes and buckled her seatbelt. There was too much to do to sleep. But she needed the whole team, including herself, sharp and ready if the job was going to get done right. Doing it alone was always a mistake. Something else she’d learned the hard way. Besides, the only thing sharp about her right now was the pain in her feet from these damned shoes.
She almost drifted off as Dan drove across town. The city was asleep as he rolled through the quiet streets. The downtown lights reminded her of all the times they’d ridden through here in the middle of the night as crazy teenagers. He’d had that old convertible Thunderbird. She’d loved the feel of the wind in her hair and his arm around her. She’d been completely stupid. Sitting huddled up next to him, no seatbelts. It was a miracle they survived.
She stole a glance at the man behind the wheel, all the way on the other side of the console. He didn’t drive that old T-Bird now. He drove a Mercedes. Wore his seatbelt and had the most prestigious cop job in the city. And lots of gorgeous lady friends.
What would he think when he learned the truth about her?
Jessie Harris. Almost former FBI. Former wife.
Nobody.
This case was all she had at the moment. She could not fail. Those girls were counting on her.
For the first time in a very long time, Jess was counting on herself, alone, without the shroud of the Bureau and the career that had defined her for most of her adult life.
Chapter Six
7:00 a.m.
Metal rattled against metal.
Andrea jerked awake.
Opening wide, the door’s hinges groaned. A dim light filtered into the room, but not enough to see more than the outline of the dumpy figure that entered. It was the woman. The man was taller and thinner.
Her heart pounding, Andrea drew her knees to her chest and told herself over and over not to cry out…not to move. If the woman realized Andrea had managed to spit out most of the pill she’d forced her to take last night at feeding time she might punish her.
A click split the silence and a flashlight’s blinding beam swept over the room. Andrea squeezed her eyes shut and tried to stop shaking. The other girls didn’t make a sound. Zombies.
The one named Macy couldn’t explain what they had done to her when she’d been brought back last night. Tests, she had said. Andrea had shaken her hard and tried to snap her out of the drug haze but it hadn’t worked. She was too far gone. Andrea didn’t want to turn into a zombie like that. But she had to pretend or they would know.
The light landed on her face.
Don’t flinch. Relax . Pretend to be asleep.
The smell of hot oatmeal invaded her nose.
Morning . The light moved on to the next bunk. Another day had passed. A sob swelled in her throat. Andrea struggled to hold it back. How long had she been here? Why didn’t someone come to rescue them? Where were her parents? The police?
“Which one?” he growled.
The man had come in too but Andrea didn’t dare open her eyes to look.
“That one.”
The harsh command made Andrea jerk. At first she thought the woman meant her. But the squeak of rusty springs came from beneath her. They were taking the girl named Reanne. Andrea’s lips trembled. What would they do to her? Macy seemed okay. She’d come back clean, like they’d given her a bath, but totally zoned out.
Reanne moaned.
“Get up!” the man snapped.
Andrea cracked her eyes open just far enough to see. The back glow from the flashlight allowed her to see the man as he dragged Reanne to her feet. He looked old like the woman, just
Legs McNeil, Jennifer Osborne, Peter Pavia