vnNeSsa1, page 17
I shower quickly and put on fresh clothes. Room service arrives with fries and a milk shake. I’m picking at the food, reaching for my cell when it goes off. It’s Josie.
“Hey, I was just about to call you. Do you have news?” I ask, holding my breath for her answer.
“In a way,” Josie says, sounding breathless herself. “A couple of my friends on the hotel staff have been keeping an eye out for that Husky dog guy for me. One of my friends cleans rooms. She’s seen that guy hold meetings with some men in a room on one of the executive floors. At least that’s what she thinks they’re doing. She can’t get close enough to listen.”
“Great news,” I say, letting my breath out. “Does your friend have a key? Can she let us into the room? Maybe there’s some paperwork in there that can tell us where they’ve taken Tink. Or, at least where I can find Liam.”
“Her shift is over at four thirty. She wants us to meet her at the elevators on the fifth floor, north wing at four forty-five. She can key the elevator to the executive floors and let us into the room from there. She also wants to leave right away. It makes her nervous to do this.”
“It makes me nervous to do this, too,” I admit. “But the cause couldn’t be better.” My mind returns to agenda items keeping me awake last night.
“Josie, I’m wondering if you know anyone in human resources who might be able to give us the Husky dog’s number and address.”
“No,” she says, slowly, “but my other friends on staff might. Let me make a couple phone calls. What’s his name again?”
“Liam,” I say, frustrated with myself for entrusting so much to this enigma of a man. “I don’t even know his last name. But describe him. No one else looks like him.”
We say goodbye. My next task is to figure out how to make good use of the afternoon. I decide to take my chances with human resources. The woman in HR looks appalled when I try to get the confidential information from her. So, I cruise the Strip looking for Wolfman again. No luck. My stomach is in knots, so food is unappealing. A nap is out of the question, so I transfer my money from the backpack to the lining of the suitcase. Then bad TV fills up the rest of my waiting time.
Finally, it’s four thirty and I’m too keyed up to wait a second longer, so I walk to the north tower and ride the elevator to the fifth floor. Josie arrives next. She steps off the elevator, sweating and out of breath as if she has just taken the stairs. Her friend gets there right at four forty-five. She’s petite, birdlike, and looks very nervous.
We all get back on the elevator and Josie’s friend keys us up to the executive floors. We step off at the twenty-eighth floor and look around. It seems deserted. This makes me even more nervous. Maybe this floor is used only for meetings. It makes it easier to get caught. Josie’s friend has already started off down one long hallway. She obviously wants to let us in and get out of here. We step up our pace and follow her.
She stops in front of 2867, a corner room, and hurriedly slides a card in and out of the slot. A red light beams. She makes a small sound. Like a bird chirping. She slides the card again. It shows green. She chirps again and opens the door. Josie holds the door as her friend turns to us.
“Goodbye and good luck,” she whispers, scurrying back down the hall.
I make sure the heavy hotel door closes softly when Josie and I cross the threshold into the foyer. The main room is huge, with an expanse of windows that overlook the Strip. We stand there taking in the grandness of the marble floors, luxurious furniture, and ornate artwork.
“Wow,” Josie says, looking up at the high ceiling. “Where do we start?”
“The most obvious place would be the desk over there,” I say, indicating an office area near a full bar off the entrance. “Why don’t we split up?”
“OK. I’ll just take a look through the rest of the suite and see if there’s anything hidden in a less obvious place.” Josie immediately moves away and I study what’s in front of me.
The office area and bar dominate the main living space of the hotel room. The office looks like it has been set up for a meeting. Rows of chairs are in a rough semi-circle surrounding a massive desk with a matching high-backed chair. The bar is stocked with glasses and alcohol. To search the desk, I’ll have to have my back to the front door. It makes me nervous, but it can’t be helped.
First I check all the drawers to see whether any are locked. They all slide open easily except for a bottom drawer that looks as if it could hold files. My fingers are unsuccessfully trying to pry it open when a thought occurs to me.
“Does the closet in there have a safe?” I yell to Josie. Her movements in the other room are barely audible to me.
“Just checking now,” she calls, her voice sounding muffled.
Abandoning the locked drawer for the moment, I’m about to open another one when I hear voices in the corridor outside the suite.
Chapter 22
My body freezes. I know that’s the worst possible response but it won’t move.
Run. You can’t. Only one way in. Warn Josie. You can’t. They’re too close. They’ll hear you. Hide. Hide!
I look around, crazed, frantic. Hotel rooms are impossible. Under the bed, in a closet—they’ll find you in a heartbeat. Think, think!
All hope that the voices would bypass this room die as I hear a key card slide in and out of the door slot. It sounds like the deadbolt on a prison cell. My body finally reacts. I dive for a side table in the adjacent living room area and wrench open the door. It’s made to look like drawers, but it’s really a cupboard, less than three feet by two feet.
The key card must not have worked the first time because I hear it sliding in and out again. The door opens just as I pull the cupboard door closed. I have to hold it shut with my fingers because it’s not meant to close from the inside. My body is folded in half. It’s hard to believe it fit in here. Surely they can hear me panting, struggling to breathe with my body scrunched in this way.
His quicksand voice is unmistakable. Smooth and seductive, Liam’s is easy to pick out among the other men’s rumbling tones. There’s another voice my ears tune in to, distinctive because it’s so high in register for a male. And a third man, quiet until a question is asked, gives a one-word answer.
I stop breathing. It’s Victor.
Glasses are clanked onto a counter and liquid is poured. The voices carry on. They are indistinct by the bar. The hotel door opens and closes as other men arrive.
After a while, the words grow clear as the voices get louder. The men are coming closer. They sound right next to the side table I’m in. The plush chairs in the office area protest as heavy bodies sit in them. My lower back begins to ache with strain and tension.
There’s a sudden silence that extends beyond a normal pause in conversation. It worries me. Then the man with the really high voice speaks.
“Your idea for an elite class of girls was brilliant, financially speaking, Liam,” he says, pausing after every two or three words as if he’s giving a sermon. “You were right about our select clients feeling like they’re in a candy store when they pick the girls right from the show. And you were right about the forbidden thrill of these girls being underage. ” He clears his throat and there’s a long silence. “But, we can’t get greedy. Two girls within a month is too frequent. Someone is going to catch on.” This guy seems like the leader of the group. Only someone important would talk to Liam like that. No one says anything for a while.
“All the more reason to expand to the next hotel,” Liam finally says, his voice so honeyed it sounds like he’s trying to talk the guy into bed. “I can do at least five matches of girls with clients per year at each location in this town. That’s double the inventory. Double the profit. No one will notice. Staff turnover is constant. Dancers are gypsies. They move from show to show. This will work.” The last is said with emphasis. I can imagine his face glowing, blue orbs flat.
“Liam, you’re not being realistic.” The man’s voice is even higher and has an agitated edge. “The profits are unbelievable, but the risks are g—”
“What was that?” It’s another man’s voice, deep and loud. Everything goes silent. Don’t let it be Josie, I silently pray.
“What did you hear?” It’s Liam, commanding.
“Something tinkling, like,” the man answers.
“Don’t just stand there—go look,” Liam says, his soft voice threatening.
My heart pounds and my breathing goes double-time. No panic. Not now. No, no. Deep breaths. But it’s too cramped in here for that.
It’s got to be hangers that were clanking. Josie hid in the closet. OK, think. What can you do?
Footsteps, a heavy pair, and something dragging and…crying. It’s Josie. They’ve found Josie. She’s whimpering and mumbling something. She sounds terrified.
“Look what I found.” The deep-voiced man says this, sounding triumphant.
“What are you doing here?” the leader demands.
There’s silence. She’s not answering. There’s a sharp slap, fingers meeting flesh. Josie cries out. I bite hard on my lips not to cry out, too.
“Why are you hiding in this suite?” voice strident in its helium-huffing register.
“I’m the supervisor of people who clean these suites. I was on inspection,” Josie says, her voice shaking. She says nothing more, just continues to cry.
“Why did you hide?” the leader repeats. How can a mouse’s squeak be so chilling?
“I’m supposed to stay clear when there are meetings held in these rooms. When I heard voices, I thought I’d just wait out the meeting instead of being a nuisance. I was embarrassed that I didn’t check the schedule.”
Not bad improvising under the circumstances. Please, please let her go.
“Where’s your key card?” Oh no. Josie has nothing on her. She doesn’t even have her purse, which she probably left downstairs at her work area.
“Somewhere around in here. I’m always losing the thing.” Her voice is shakier.
“I wonder if you could hear us in there,” the leader says. It sounds as if he’s talking to himself. Josie starts to say something but he cuts her off.
“No matter. Can’t take the chance.” There’s a long stretch of silence. All I hear is Josie’s quiet crying.
“I’d like the new guy—what’s your name? Hector? Victor? Take this woman and question her until you’re satisfied she’s telling the truth. You know what I mean? Good. Then bring me back some proof that the situation has been taken care of. For good.”
There’s complete silence in the room. I’m horrified. I know only too well that the leader guy wants Victor to torture and then kill Josie.
Chills run down my spine and sweat drips in my eyes. My impulse is to burst out of the cupboard and run screaming at them all. But then what?
“No problem,” I hear Victor say.
What do you mean “no problem,” I want to scream. Josie cries harder.
“Also, search this place in case she’s not who she says she is and had someone helping her.”
My legs are numb. The muscles in my shoulders and arms are splitting apart. My back is gone. They’ll soon see that the cupboard door is slightly ajar and I won’t be able to fight because my body is useless. I pray they don’t notice the cupboard door. If they don’t notice the door, the space looks too small for someone to fit into it. I’m sweating and praying and sick with worry for Josie. And me.
The cupboard door shuts from the outside.
I stifle a scream. Someone knows I’m in here. Or leaned against it by mistake. Highly unlikely. My heart bangs even harder in my squashed chest. Maybe Victor…
As quickly as it rises, hope fades. I don’t know why the person shut the cupboard. It may be to help me. Then again, maybe not. I’ll have to pray I’m not discovered and wait and see.
My ears strain to hear beyond my own pulse sounds and ragged breathing. I feel vibrations. Feet moving around and then stopping. When they come near, I hold my breath. I don’t even blink.
The hotel door opens and closes. Maybe Victor has taken Josie away. I don’t hear her crying anymore.
Vibrations near me, stopping. I have a bad feeling. The cupboard handle rattles. OK, this is it. As tortured as my muscles are, they tense and get ready to fight.
Liam and Victor both start talking loudly at once. I strain to hear, muscles still tense and ready. Victor’s quiet now and Liam’s talking.
“We’re wasting time. No one’s here. Victor, get the woman out of here. We can continue this discussion when I get back. Let’s put everything on hold for now. OK?”
There’s a maddening silence that seems to go on forever. It’s broken only by the hotel door opening and closing, presumably Victor and Josie leaving. I feel like a caged animal. Give me an excuse to fight to the death. Instead, the leader speaks up.
“OK, Liam. Things are on hold for now. But I like things under control. And things don’t feel in control. Make sure the new guy follows through with the woman.”
The hotel door opens and closes again. There’s the rumbling of male voices and the sound of the door closing a few more times. Then silence.
My muscles stay bunched as I listen for sounds. After a long time, my shoulders relax, followed by my arms, back, and legs. I try to roll my neck around, but it’s almost impossible in this space. Opening the cupboard door is out of the question until I’m sure it’s safe, so I start counting.
When I get to one thousand, I ease open the door and peek out the crack. The room is empty. I unfold my body out of the cupboard and onto the floor. Every muscle hurts. Can’t think of that now. I sit up and look carefully around the room. It’s definitely empty. Thank God. I lie down flat on my back and blow out a lungful of air in relief.
“Hello, Savannah.”
Chapter 23
Liam swivels around in the oversized desk chair and faces me, big teeth, dead eyes. I stare at him and stand on shaky legs, feeling my heart crash. So he’s the one who closed the cupboard door, not Victor.
“How did you fold those long legs into such a small space?” he says, eyeing me in a far too familiar way. When I don’t answer, he continues.
“Ah, well. You’re always one who wants to get right down to business.” Liam has dropped the smile and some of the silk has gone out of his voice. “I figure you owe me for not giving your hiding place away.” He’s about to continue, but I interrupt him.
“What’s going to happen to the woman?”
“To Josie? Yes, I know her. Don’t look so surprised. I make it my business to know staff. Especially if they’ve been here awhile. Especially if they dress my girls. And I figured you might be involved if she was involved. Looks like I was right.”
“What’s going to happen to her?” My words come out edgy. He’s making me mad.
“I have no control over that, Savannah,” Liam says impatiently. “I’m saving your ass, aren’t I? I think I know what you two were doing up—”
“Where’s Tink?” All thoughts of trying to use finesse with this man are gone. Just looking at his smug expression makes me want to scratch it off his face with my fingernails. He doesn’t answer quickly enough. “Where is she?” I demand, louder.
“OK, Savannah. Let’s talk business,” Liam says, everything about him ice cold. “Your buddy, Tink, is not cooperating. A certain gentleman has paid a lot of money for her cooperation. I need you to help her collaborate with this gentleman.”
“How can I force her to do something she doesn’t want to do?” I ask, fearful for Tink, knowing Liam is capable of anything.
Liam has gotten up from his chair and has crossed over to where I’m standing. He puts his fingers under my chin so that I’m looking straight into his eyes. It’s like a hall of mirrors. I’m at a circus. He’s a freak show. I try to shake my chin free, but he holds it firm.
“Oh, she’ll see that I will hurt her best friend if she doesn’t do exactly what I ask her to do,” he says, his breath hot on my face. “Actually, I take pleasure in that sort of thing. It’s hard for me to stop. It gets me off.”
Both of my arms come up at once to slam the sides of his head. But he’s too quick for me and blocks my blows with swift movements of his own. He pins my arms to my sides and backs me up to the wall. Once there, he kicks my legs apart and holds my arms over my head against the wall.
“Don’t fight me, Savannah. You’ll just get me all excited.”
Sure enough, his face is flushed and a pulse is beating hard in his neck. My knee twitches reflexively. I’m just dying to bring it up into his groin. I swear to God, the sick scum reads my mind. Any normal guy would instinctively jerk away, but Liam’s lips part, his pupils dilate slightly and his hips come forward. A sound of disgust rips from my throat. The next instant, I’m laughing wildly, a distinctly unstable sound. It gives me great pleasure to see his pupils contract to pinpoints.
“OK, Liam. Take me to Tink,” I say when I can catch my breath. “Where is she?”
Liam slowly releases my arms from the wall. He keeps his mouth an inch from mine as if he’s going to kiss me but instead whispers two words.
“New York.”
Air escapes me like a punctured tire on a bicycle. Evidently my reaction to the news that Tink is in New York pleases Liam. He gives me a lip-splitting smile. It barely makes me angry. I feel too punched in the stomach for that.
I close my eyes and take a breath. Anger and shock recede, replaced by a far less welcome emotion: fear. How can I possibly travel all the way to New York with this maniac and single-handedly get Tink out of there? Liam is sly and dangerous, not to mention bat-crap crazy. I’m no match for him.
My eyes stay closed. No matter what, he can’t see my fear. He’ll crush me. There’s a ball of panic starting in my stomach. Every last person is gone. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m too young for this whole thing and should just give up.
I can feel him smiling. I think about Tink. Her mother’s not looking for her. Just like my parents aren’t looking for me. From what Liam said about Tink not cooperating, she knows that Liam has been using her. He seduced Tink to turn her into one of his “elite” girls. So now, I’m all she has left.
