"Matt," Nicky said, "what's up?"

  "I just--I've had a few, and I know you said you wanted to keep things really casual, but I just--I can't help it. I wanna see you."

  Nicky's stomach clenched with anxiety. This was why she didn't like getting too close to men--dealing with people's emotions, their needs, when she wasn't equipped to properly deliver, made her uncomfortable.

  "Matt," she said firmly. "I'm working a case."

  "Just--I know you like your space, but can't we spend the night together? I really really really wanna see you."

  "I'm working," Nicky said. "I told you that. I'm not anywhere near Jacksonville."

  "Okay, maybe we can video chat? We don't have to do anything. I just wanna see you."

  Nicky sighed. "I just can't, Matt."

  "Come on, Nick!" Matt pleaded. "I've never met anyone like you before. I think about you all the time. We have so much history."

  Nicky bit her lip. She didn't know what to say. It was true, they did have history, and Nicky generally liked Matt. But she didn't like this desperate, drunk side of him. She'd never heard him talk like this before, and it was seriously putting her off.

  "I just--please, Nick. Please just come over," Matt said. "I'm drunk, and I'm lonely."

  "I'm sorry, Matt," Nicky said. "I told you, I'm not even close to you. I can't help you."

  "Seriously?" Matt said, sounding hurt. "You're gonna brush me off that easily?"

  Nicky frowned. "Why are you acting like this?"

  He paused, taking a moment, and sighed through the phone. "God, Nicky, I'm sorry," he said. "I just... I'm not taking this as well as I wanted to."

  This was alarming. "What do you mean?" Nicky asked. "What's going on? Why are you acting like this?"

  "I just... I guess I thought I had a shot with you," Matt said. "And now I realize I didn't. I guess... I guess I'm just having a rough day."

  Nicky hesitated on her reply. Part of her did like Matt, and she had intentions of seeing him again. But after this? Nicky was realizing quickly that she couldn't give Matt the type of commitment he was asking for. If she threw him some hope, said it was all okay, then when would be the next time she'd get a drunk, needy phone call?

  No. She needed to end this now, before it escalated.

  "I'm gonna go," Nicky said, her voice shaking. "I'm sorry, Matt. I don't want to hurt you, but I don't think we should see each other anymore."

  "Nicky," Matt pleaded. "Nicky, please hang on. I know I'm acting like a drunk idiot. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I just--I feel awful saying this, but I know you're out of my league. I get it. I understand. I just--I was so excited to meet up with you. I thought I'd have a shot with you. And I feel like such an idiot, getting my hopes up."

  "Matt," Nicky said, "you're gonna be fine. You're a nice guy. There'll be someone else."

  "No, there won't be," Matt whispered. "I know that now."

  "What?"

  "I'm just a nobody. I'm not good enough. But you and me--we have history, Nicky. We've known each other since we were kids. Don't throw it away, please."

  "I'm sorry, Matt," she said, her heart pulling. "I wish you the best."

  "Wait--"

  Nicky hung up. She stood in the darkness of the balcony and stared at the ocean. Moonlight reflected off the surface of the water. It was so clear, so peaceful looking. Nicky wished she could be so calm.

  She sunk into a chair on the balcony, her mind spinning. There were so many things happening at once, Nicky didn't know where to start. She'd made a mistake in getting involved with Matt, she knew that. But what was she going to do? Pretend nothing had happened, when everything had?

  The shower turned off in the bathroom, and Nicky glanced inside to see Ken come out wearing a T-shirt and a paid of gray sweats. When he saw her on the balcony, he came over to the door and opened it, stepping outside too.

  "Hey, what're you doing out here?" he asked.

  Nicky sighed and looked away. "Just... dealing with some personal shit."

  Even if Matt was acting like an idiot, it still hurt to close the door like that. But Nicky didn't have a sliver of room in her life for drama.

  Maybe she'd find a guy someday, someone who could fit into her life, who understood her needs. But Nicky couldn't give Matt what he needed. And she cared about him because of their history, so she had to set him free.

  He'd find the right girl someday.

  Ken sat down beside her, and they both stared off the balcony in silence.

  "You seem upset," Ken said. "Anything I can do?"

  "It's fine," Nicky said, putting on a smile. "I just have a lot on my mind. It'll be fine."

  "Well, if you ever want to talk," Ken said, "it's not like I have anywhere else to be."

  Nicky glanced up at him and smiled. "Thanks, Walker. Likewise."

  "Find anything on George Fischer?"

  "Not really," Nicky confessed. "He has no criminal record. A bit of a name in town, though. Knows some businessmen, transports goods for them. Could be relevant."

  "An arms dealer?" Ken suggested.

  Nicky frowned at that. "A bit out of place for this type of crime."

  "Hmm," Ken said, rubbing his chin.

  Nicky leaned back in the chair. She had to admit, she had a bad feeling about all of this. With the way Mira was taken off the dock by the man in a mask, plus the boat--it all felt like trafficking, which only reaffirmed their earlier hunch.

  "What if it really is trafficking?" Nicky asked, her voice low.

  Ken was quiet for a moment. "If it is, then..."

  "They could already be long gone from the country."

  "We're only a boat ride away from the Caribbean here," Ken said. "It's a worst-case scenario. If the girls are in international waters, then..."

  "Our chances of finding them decrease," Nicky said. "Significantly."

  They were both quiet, ruminating over this possibility.

  Nicky couldn't believe it to be true.

  She thought back to all the girls she'd met in the past. All the girls who'd been taken from their homes, from their futures. Girls who'd been abused and thrown around and passed around, like objects.

  Nicky couldn't even imagine what Mira might be going through right now. The situation seemed so bleak.

  "I suppose we'll just have to try our best to find these bastards, and make sure the girls get home safely," Ken said, breaking the silence.

  "We need more information than that," Nicky replied. "We need more to go on. And we need more information on Fischer."

  "Hey, Lyons."

  Nicky met his eyes. In the darkness, they were blue-black, rimmed by thick eyelashes. Sometimes, Nicky had to admit it--Ken could be brash, but he was a good-looking guy. They'd had a few... intimate moments, and this felt like one of them. Ken in his pajamas, them alone on a balcony, about to sleep in the same room...

  She shook the thought away. "What is it?" she asked.

  "I know you're worried," he said. "I am too. But let's not think like that. We're gonna catch Fischer in the morning, the moment he docks his boat. We'll get answers. Just one more sleep."

  Nicky gave him a weak half-smile. She appreciated that he was trying to make her feel better.

  "Thanks, Walker," she said.

  She could only hope he was right.

  Otherwise, those girls may never be found.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Morning light seeped through the curtains of the hotel. Nicky had a single, fleeting moment of peace before reality hit her like a tidal wave: they needed to get to that dock before George Fischer's boat did.

  Nicky ripped out of bed to see Ken was also rising, stretching as he pulled himself away from the white sheets.

  "We have to get to the docks," Nicky said.

  "Right," Ken said, hopping out of bed. He slipped into his pants, and Nicky hurried to find her clothes. They got dressed as quickly as possible, then raced out the door, down the hallway and to the stairs. Nicky jogged down them, her long hair flying around her face, and she burst out the front doors. Ken was right behind her. She hurried through the parking lot, shoes slapping against the pavement underneath her feet. The morning was cool, and the sky was the color of washed denim, the sun not quite up yet.

  Nicky heard the footsteps behind her, saw Ken right beside her.

  "Hang on! I'll drive!" he called.

  "No time!" Nicky replied. She ran to the car and popped the trunk, getting her gear out. When she turned around, Ken was right beside her.

  "Let me drive," he said.

  They stared at each other over the hood of the car. Nicky lifted a brow. "Really?"

  Ken, with a slight roll of his eyes, got in the passenger side.

  Nicky got behind the wheel.

  The tires squealed as they flew out of the hotel parking lot, into downtown. Palm trees fanned out over the road.

  "We need to get to that boat," Nicky said. "If we miss it, we'll never get to them. We'll never find the girls."

  "Don't even say that," Ken said. "We're gonna get them."

  Nicky wasn't sure why she felt so paranoid. There was something about this case that was getting under her skin. It didn't help that she'd barely slept, anxious about everything. Including Matt--and their semi-breakup.

  You weren't dating him, she reminded herself. But she couldn't help but feel bad about it all.

  This was exactly why Nicky didn't get close to men.

  I can't give them what they want.

  What they need.

  She took a shaky breath and tried to focus on the case. Traffic was light, and they were making good time on their way to the dock.

  "We'll catch Fischer," Ken said. "And we'll save the girls. I know it."

  Nicky nodded, though she wasn't so sure.

  As they approached the docks, Nicky made a right turn, onto a side street and toward the parking lot. The sun was rising over the sea beyond the docks, creating lines of orange over the blue. Nicky could see boats arriving at the dock, but none that looked quite like Onlooker, Fischer's boat.

  "Where is it?" she asked.

  Ken checked his wristwatch. "Not on time."

  He was right. Onlooker was nowhere to be found. The dock was busy now, with people arriving to check on boats.

  She pulled into the parking lot and parked the car. They hurried to the docks and approached the chief guard that was stationed at the entrance. He was a large man with a receding hairline and a mustache.

  "Excuse me, sir," Nicky said. "We're looking for a name: George Fischer. He was supposed to dock here this morning."

  The guard shook his head. "Haven't seen that vessel yet. She should be here soon."

  Nicky nodded and stepped back, looking at the sea of boats docking. The sun crept further over the horizon, bringing light to the world as more people arrived at the docks.

  "Nicky," Ken said. "Over there. That's Onlooker."

  Nicky turned at his voice to see the familiar white-and-blue boat bobbing in the water. She took a deep breath. They were in time. Now, they just had to make sure Fischer didn't get away.

  "We're gonna have to get on that boat," she said as they briskly walked down the dock. "There are only two ways out of this. Either Fischer cooperates and we get the girls back. Or we bust our way onto the boat, and we get the girls back. And we get Fischer."

  "You really think he's got the girls?" Ken asked.

  Nicky hesitated. "We don't have any choice."

  "He's not going to listen to us. Or he's going to refuse. He's gonna come up with a reason why we're not allowed on his boat," Ken said. "Maybe we can convince him to let us on."

  Nicky was doubtful. She knew how stubborn Fischer was going to be. Men like him always were. Nicky didn't need to meet him to know that.

  "What about a warrant?" Ken asked.

  "That's a gamble. It might take hours to get one," Nicky said. "And those girls could be in danger. We can't risk it."

  They reached Onlooker. A ladder hung off the side. They climbed up, and Nicky was thankful her athletic shoes made it easy. Ken climbed up after her, then helped her onto the deck of the boat.

  "Hello?" he called out. They both stepped onto the deck, which was a steel grating beneath their feet.

  There were rough-looking characters milling about--gruff men with beards, who looked like they belonged at sea. One of them noticed Nicky and Ken and came over. "Hey, who let you on here?" he demanded.

  Nicky held up her badge. No time to beat around the bush. "We're looking for Captain George Fischer. Is he here?"

  "He's not seeing anyone," said the gruff man.

  Nicky glanced around, studying the men on the boat. Was Nicky and Ken's presence causing any of them to look nervous? Maybe Fischer was in another part of the boat. She could work with that.

  "We need to see him, now," she said.

  The gruff man gave her a blank look. "I said he's not seeing anyone."

  "We're not 'anyone.' We're federal agents," Nicky said.

  The man snapped his fingers, and another man came to join him.

  "What's going on?" he asked, roughly.

  "We're looking for Captain Fischer," Ken said.

  The second man gave them a look of disgust. "George is busy. He doesn't want to be bothered. I'd advise you to leave before George has you tossed off the boat."

  Nicky was going to object, but the two men stepped closer to her, and she decided against it. There were two of them, and they were big.

  "I would advise you against that," Ken said.

  "You're no match for us," the man said.

  Nicky stepped forward. "Are you threatening two federal agents?" She glanced at the docks, where regular people had taken notice of the commotion gathering on the boat. But Nicky had a bad feeling about this.

  It looked like these guys weren't going down without a fight.

  Nicky stepped forward, challenging the men. One of them reached for his gun, but Ken pushed him back. "Don't even try it."

  "We're not letting you near George," one man warned.

  Ken looked at Nicky, and she could read the look in his eyes. They were going to push their way through if they had to. She nodded, and he did too.

  Nicky and Ken ran forward, diving into the group of men.

  They were all larger then the two of them, but Nicky was fast, and Ken was strong. Nicky wasn't sure if she'd ever seen Ken lose a fight.

  They stopped a few feet away from the man who'd drawn his gun, and Nicky spun around to take on a few of the men who'd circled in on her. She didn't know how Ken was faring, but she heard the sounds of a scuffle behind her, joined by some curses.

  She was able to fight off half of the men, but the other half was headed toward Ken, and he was having a hard time with them.

  Someone grabbed her from behind, and she felt her elbow connect with his gut. She kicked out and connected with his groin, and he groaned. She spun around, just in time to see one man wrestling to throw Ken off the boat.

  "Walker!" Nicky shouted. She pushed away from the men accosting her and dove after Ken, just in time to see him fight back against his assailant. Ken flipped the guy off the boat, and he landed in the water with a splash.

  Nicky and Ken met up as guys were still chasing them, but many stopped to see if their friend was okay. They dove toward the captain's den, which was at the back of the boat, running as fast as they could.

  As they drew closer, Nicky smelled something burning. She shot Ken a confused look as they barreled into the captain's den, where George Fischer was dropping what looked like money into a burning pile of flames.

  "George Fischer, stop!" Nicky shouted.

  George looked over his shoulder and gasped. He went to run, but he had nowhere to go. Nicky and Ken were blocking the entrance.

  "Walker, put that fire out!" Nicky demanded, holding her gun at Fischer.

  Ken ran back and grabbed a bucket of water, then doused the pile. It sizzled as the flames died, revealing a half-burned pile of money. It must have been thousands of dollars.

  Fischer stumbled backward, then glared at Nicky. "I should kill you right now," he hissed.

  “You’re the one looking down the barrel of a gun,” Nicky said.

  Fischer hesitated, then took a deep breath. He looked at the pile of money and turned his head away. "You think you know what's going on, but you don't."

  "Then tell us," Nicky said.

  Fischer went quiet. Nicky didn't have time for this. She walked right up to him, still holding her gun, and pulled out her handcuffs. "George Fischer, you're under arrest."

  ***

  Nicky shoved George Fischer, wearing handcuffs, into the interrogation room at the Vale police station. He was a tall, hulking man with a grizzled beard, and he hadn't spoken more than a grunt since Nicky and Ken were able to apprehend him.

  "Looks like it's just you and me, Fischer," Nicky said. "My partner is working with the police to make sure all your friends--who assaulted two federal agents--get what they deserve."

  Nicky directed him to the chair, and George let out another unsatisfactory grunt. Pretending he didn't feel anything, Nicky could presume.

  Sitting down opposite him, Nicky tried to meet his eyes, but he refused to look at her.

  "Why were you burning the money, George?"

  "I don't know what you've heard, but I'm not a criminal," George muttered.

  "Then why were you burning the money?" Nicky asked once again. That was Class A guilty behavior.

  "That's none of your concern," George said.

  "That looked like a lot of money, George. Why would you destroy it?"

  "I have my reasons," George said.

  "Fine, then," Nicky said. She leaned toward him. "So, tell me about those reasons. I have all the time in the world." She gestured to the windowless, gray box of a room around them.

  Fischer frowned. Nicky watched him, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he stayed quiet.

  "So," Nicky said, "tell me about the girls you've been trafficking."

  "What!" Now, George was red in the face. "I didn't--I don't know anything about no trafficking!"

 

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17