Castle Investigations Box Set Page 6

  She was no innocent. She lived on this end of town and knew the kind of people that made up the streets. But knowing about it and seeing it first-hand were two different things.

  After cooking breakfast and showering himself, he walked back into the living room, where Isabel and Scarlett were chatting like old friends. She chuckled softly, and he was grateful to Isabel for putting her at ease.

  "So, then what did he do?" Scarlett asked.

  "Well," Isabel said, continuing with the story she must have been sharing, "he walked right up to this little girl and said, 'Hi, I'm Lucas, and I think you're the sexiest girl alive.' What he didn't realize was that her mother was standing right behind him." Lucas's neck became hot as he recognized what story Isabel was sharing.

  She caught his eye and winked.

  He groaned as she continued, "When you grow up on our side of the tracks, you learn words before you know how to use them appropriately. Lucas had been trying to tell the girl she was pretty. The mother jerked the girl up by her arm and stomped off." Scarlett giggled again, and he saw a look of sympathy cross her face. "I don't think he told any other girls they were sexy after that."

  "Ok, Isabel, that's enough entertainment at my expense." Lucas mussed her hair as he walked by her, sitting on the couch next to Scarlett.

  "Ah, don't be a spoilsport, Lucas. Scarlett was enjoying it." She batted her eyelashes at him innocently.

  "Sure, she was," he replied.

  "I was. I didn't realize you were so naughty as a kid," she teased.

  "Well, now you know." His smile warmed, and he held out his hand. In her ear, he whispered, "Stick around—I can show you just how naughty I can be." He knew the response he would get from her, and she didn't disappoint. She dropped her gaze to the floor.

  "You ready?" he asked. She nodded and stood, taking his hand as they made their way to the garage.

  She turned back and said, "Thanks, Isabel, for everything."

  "Of course," Isabel said and caught his eye. The silent message was loud and clear: I like her, so don't screw it up.

  "I won't," he said aloud. And pushed them inside the elevator before Scarlett could ask any questions.

  The ride to Maryanne's was filled with a comfortable quiet. He didn't feel the need to fill it with pointless babble; instead, he just held her hand as the radio played quietly in the background. They arrived at Maryanne's residence at noon sharp. As he approached the worn-down townhome, he decided he needed to prepare Scarlett.

  "Look, I think I need to warn you—" he started.

  "I’m fine, Lucas. You don't need to protect me from everything."

  "Would you shut up for one second and let me finish?" he asked, hoping that his smile softened his words, and pressed on. "What I was trying to say is, I need to warn you about Maryanne. She lives here, she rents a single room here, and she works here," he finished.

  "You mean she works out of her room?" Scarlett's puzzled expression reminded Lucas of just how sheltered she'd really been growing up.

  "Yes. She works out of her bed," he said, looking at her meaningfully, and her face fell.

  "Oh."

  "Right. So it's not going to be a pretty sight. She's also a heroin addict, so I'm not sure what state we'll find her in."

  "How do you know her?" she asked.

  "She was my best friend's sister."

  "Was?"

  "Yeah, Laura died of a drug overdose ten years ago."

  Scarlett's hand reached up and cupped his face. "I'm sorry," she said.

  "Me, too." He shook off the bad memories and continued, "Anyway, I want you to be prepared for anything."

  "I'm not a prude, Lucas. I can handle it."

  He knew she wasn't a prude, but he also knew that it wouldn't be an easy thing to experience. He simply nodded and squeezed her upper arm, taking her hand in his as they walked up the steps to see Maryanne.

  * * * *

  Scarlett's first reaction was to gag. The smell of urine, feces, and sex overwhelmed her as they walked in the front door of the townhome. Half-dressed women and men were sprawled out in every corner. Others were doing things in corners that she didn't want to know about. It was clear most of them were high. Her heart broke at the hopelessness of their situation. The chances that any of them would break free from this were slim.

  They made their way up the steps past couples in different stages of sexual activity. She tried not to look, but it was like a train wreck. Reaching the top of the stairs, Lucas pulled her towards a door marked with the numbers 217. He knocked, and the door flew open wide.

  A woman dressed only in a black negligee opened the door. She had dark circles under her eyes, and her hair was frizzy and tangled. You could tell that she’d once been beautiful, but the life she lived had sucked the joy and life out of her.

  "Well, what do we have here? Lucas and a friend? I didn't realize you were into threesomes, but that can be arranged. It's more money, though, you know?" Maryanne's hands went straight to the front of his pants, and he caught her hand right before she cupped him.

  "Maryanne, I didn't come here for a threesome." Scarlett's hands flew to her mouth as she tried to hide her reaction. It was at that moment that she realized she knew very little of this world.

  * * * *

  "Oh, well, I guess she can watch. She doesn't seem like your type, though, Lucas."

  "You don't really know anything about my type these days, do you?"

  "You never come around here anymore." Scarlett's face contorted into an appalled look, and he shook his head at Scarlett, hoping to convey that he’d never been a customer.

  "It's been busy. I'm sorry. I should have stopped by more after Laura—after she died." He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. It would never get any easier thinking of Laura and her death—of how he had failed her.

  Maryanne's expression softened for just a moment, softening the hard lines around her eyes and mouth. And then, in a flash, it was gone again, replaced with her predatory gleam.

  "You have my money? I need some more stuff, you know. Haven't had a customer in a couple of days. Where do you want me? On the bed? Against the wall?" She reached for his shirt, grabbing fistfuls as she pulled him closer, resting her lips against his. He could smell the filth on her, the unwashed body, the cigarette smoke, the men. He choked back the bile that rose in his throat, keeping his lips closed tightly. He gently pushed her away and moved her towards the dirty couch against the wall.

  "I didn't come here for a fling. I came to ask a favor," he started.

  "You want me to teach your girlfriend over there? I haven't done a lot of girls, but I've had a few." Scarlett's face went white. Lucas shook Maryanne by the shoulders.

  "Listen to me. We're not here for sex, of any kind. I need to know where Damon is." At the mention of his name, Maryanne stood up suddenly, grabbing a cigarette from the bra cup of her negligee, and lit it, pacing the floor.

  "Why do you want to know where he is? And why do you think I know?" she asked.

  "I know you're his favorite," he replied, trying flattery first.

  "True, but I haven't seen him in weeks," she lied. He knew she was lying. When Maryanne was cleaned up, she was breathtakingly beautiful—almost as beautiful as Laura had been. No way Damon would cast her aside completely.

  "Listen to me. Damon took Scarlett's sister." He nodded towards Scarlett, who was still hovering by the door as if she were afraid to come too close. He didn't blame her.

  "I wouldn't know anything about that," she said, and her eyes darted away and towards her vanity. She sat down on the stool and began brushing her tangled hair.

  He walked over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Please. We need a clue. We don't have much time before he'll sell her. Where did he take her?"

  Maryanne paused in her brushing, taking a long pull from her cigarette. "I said I don't know." She turned away from him, dismissing him. He laid five twenties on her vanity, and mumbled a thanks before walkin
g towards the door.

  Scarlett watched as Maryanne counted the money. She saw the change of heart on her face before she said the words: "Baltimore. A halfway house on Ellis Lane. He takes the girls there before he sells them. Breaks them in." Scarlett gasped. Maryanne stood and walked over to Lucas, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Now leave. You were never here, understand?" There was such clarity in her words, as if she'd broken through the heroin high she was perpetually on. He pulled her close and returned the kiss to her cheek.

  "Thank you," he said.

  Without saying another word, she nodded and walked back over to her vanity, brushing her hair all over again.

  Lucas pulled Scarlett behind him, rushing them towards the car. They descended the steps a lot more quickly than they'd gone up, the crush of bodies a blur as they flew towards the front door.

  Just as they approached it, a large man with long, greasy hair, and missing his two front teeth, blocked their way.

  "Where do you think you're going?" he snarled, his th sounds sounding more like F sounds due to the missing front teeth.

  "We're leaving," Lucas said, dropping Scarlett's hand.

  "Not before you pay."

  "We aren't customers."

  "Sure, you're not. That's what they all say. You gotta pay for two," was his reply, but it sounded like he’d said, "Fath what fey all thay." If the situation weren't so dangerous, he might laugh at the contrast between the guy's bulk and his first-grader-like speech. The man stepped closer and poked Lucas in the chest, pushing him backwards.

  "Course, we could make an arrangement," the man said. He looked at Scarlett and made kissy noises with his mouth.

  Lucas stepped in front of her, sheltering her from the man's leer. "Leave her out of this." Out of his wallet, he took out two fifties and handed them to him. "Here. Now, move."

  "That's not enough," the man protested. "I'll take her instead." He moved closer to them, and suddenly Lucas had had enough. He took the gun from his waistband and pointed it at the man.

  Both hands flew up as the man backed away towards a room off to their right. Lucas kept the gun trained on him as he pulled Scarlett closer, pushing them towards the door. "You so much as flinch, and I'll pull this trigger, understand?"

  The man nodded and backed away. "Sorry, man. We're cool here."

  Lucas pressed the keys into her hand and whispered in her ear, "Run." And she did. Lucas backed away, keeping his eyes on the front door and waiting for someone to rush through. He broke into a jog as he heard Scarlett start the ignition. Sliding inside the car, he put the car in reverse and backed out, tires squealing.

  Chapter 8

  Emery awoke when cold water splashed over her face. She sputtered as the water flooded her nose and mouth. Choking and gagging, she sat up, realizing she'd fallen asleep again, and found herself covered in her own vomit. The smell made her stomach roil, and she gagged and heaved.

  "Wake up, bitch. It's time to go." She pushed back towards the wall, hoping that if she could just make herself small enough, he wouldn't see her and make her leave. It wasn't Damon this time, but another man. He had a cap on his front tooth, a bald head, and dark, beady eyes. Tattoos covered his arms and neck. The images were grotesque, naked women burning in flames, pain contorting their features. Evil, demon-like images with menacing smiles. What kind of man wanted that permanently inked on his skin? A bad man.

  The man reached down and grabbed her up by the arms, jerking them almost out of their sockets. She pulled back and struggled to fight, but with her feet bound at the ankles and her hands tied, she was unable to even walk. The man pulled her up against him and lifted her up, carrying her out of the bathroom. She bucked, trying to hit him with the back of her head, but he was too quick. Too strong. He pushed her up against the wall, and squeezed his hands tightly around her throat. She clawed at his hands, trying to tear them away so she could breathe.

  "Stop struggling, or I'll squeeze the life out of you. Understand?" Spittle sprayed her face as he enunciated each word, his breath smelling of garlic, cigarette smoke, and death.

  She tried to nod, as she had no breath left in her lungs to answer, but didn’t have much room to lift her head. Just as her vision started to grow dark, he released her. She dropped to the floor, drawing in deep, ragged breaths, coughing and sputtering to get air through the tightened airway. It hurt to breathe or swallow, and she knew there would be bruises there, but at least she was alive.

  She took in her surroundings, recognizing that she must be in a motel room, the kind of place that rented by the hour. The sheets on the bed were bunched up and stained, and she choked back tears as she thought about what might have happened there. What might happen to her. She knew their intentions weren't good, and she recalled the stories of girls who’d been rescued from sex trafficking. Forced to do things. Drugged. Raped. Killed.

  The sobs started low in her belly and came out in an agonizing cry. "Shut up, bitch," the man said, and backhanded her across the face. Her head snapped back and hit the wall. And then she slipped into darkness once again.

  * * * *

  Lucas didn't slow down until they were back on D Street, just a mile or so from the warehouse. As he coasted into the parking garage and up the freight elevator, Scarlett's pulse finally started to slow.

  "It's hard to believe," she began.

  "What is?"

  "How some people live. The desperation. The evil. I don't understand how people get so low that they can't find their way out."

  "That's because you're different. You know another way. They don't. They were raised by addicts. Grew up around addicts. Abused. Raped. You name it." Scarlett's heart broke, and she swallowed past the lump in her throat. This was the life she feared Lucas had been raised in. This was the life she feared Emery would have to endure if they didn't find her soon.

  They walked into the shared apartment and took the elevator to the first floor. The elevator opened, revealing a large room that still resembled a warehouse. The fireplace and couches were the only warm touches it contained. A boxing ring was in the middle, and two men were sparring in the ring.

  Headgear and mouthpieces protected them from the punishing blows they threw at each other. She could tell it was Sully and Gabriel due to Sully's sheer size and Gabriel's intricate tattoos. She was fascinated by them, as well as by the abs that both men had on display. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, and looked down to avoid Lucas's gaze. She didn't want him to see her reaction to the two half-naked men in the ring.

  Lucas placed his hand on her lower back and directed her towards the mats. "Hey, Sully, we've got a lead."

  Sully nodded and turned towards Gabriel. Distracted, he failed to see the fist coming his way. Gabriel landed a solid blow to the side of Sully’s head, and he went down hard. Scarlett gasped. Sully's chuckle relieved her fear somewhat as he looked up from the mat, catching her eye. He winked. "Worried about me, Ms. Scarlett?"

  She shrugged as if it were no big deal. "It would be a shame to scar up that pretty face of yours. You know, you're almost too pretty for anyone to take you seriously." Gabriel's jaw dropped at her comments, and she wondered if she'd gone too far.

  Sully threw his head back with laughter. "I like her, Lucas. You should keep her around."

  "Glad I have your permission, sir." The sir was said sarcastically, and she watched as Lucas glared at Sully, while Sully just gave him a wide-toothed grin as he took Gabriel's offered hand and was pulled to his feet.

  "Round up the rest of the team and meet us in the conference room in fifteen. We'll shower and change and meet you there." The light-hearted banter stopped as quickly as it started, and Scarlett marveled at the man's ability to switch gears so suddenly.

  Lucas placed his hand again on Scarlett's lower back. She felt the warmth radiate through her middle, creating tingles low in her belly. She was trying to keep her attraction at bay. She needed to stay focused on finding her sister. But she was tired of fighting it.

  T
hey got back in the elevator and stopped at the second floor. Walking down the narrow hallway, they stopped at a room filled with computers. Zach was sitting in a chair on the far wall, the glass stretching from floor to ceiling. She realized the whole wall was filled with computer screens. Each screen held a different view.

  On one screen, she saw an older version of Damon Smith—no, Lopez. He was still handsome, just a little older. More lines around his eyes and mouth, and a harder, more angular look to his face. Any softness from his pictures from ten years ago was gone, replaced with the hardened edges of a criminal.

  She shuddered at the cold, calculating look to his eyes, and Lucas put his arm around her.

  "Meeting in ten minutes in the conference room. We've got a lead. Zach, look up this address for me. I don't have the house number, just the street, but Maryanne said it was a halfway house. Find out whatever you can—who owns it, police activity, anything."

  "Got it," Zach said, and typed on his keyboard. A new window appeared on the giant screen, and a satellite image of a city popped up.

  Lucas looked at Isabel and Ethan. "We're going to need all hands on this one." They murmured their agreement and both stood, making their way towards the conference room. Lucas and Scarlett followed and sat down at the huge table.

  Lucas walked to the dry erase board and started writing. Isabel placed her hand on Scarlett's and asked, "You holding up ok?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine."

  "I'm a psychologist, you know. I can help you if you need to talk."

  Scarlett appreciated her concern, but right now she couldn't fall apart. She needed to find her sister, and she could pick up the pieces later.

  Isabel correctly interpreted her hesitation. She took both hands in her own and peered into Scarlett's eyes. "It's not weak to share your emotions. This is a lot to take in. You've experienced shock, and you can't help Emery if your thoughts are clouded by the overwhelming emotions."