The Buried Hours: A Novel, page 28
“So you can get off on watching me be raped just like La Jirafa? He said he wanted the sex tape for his spank bank.”
Cole turned pasty white. “Hell no. I don’t want to watch it. I don’t want you to watch it either. I’m trying to take the hit for you. Maybe you can avoid it.”
“No. I can’t hide from this.”
She hit “Play.” It started with her on a bed, still dressed. The video she’d been sent eighteen months ago had a blurred background along with blurred faces. This was the first time she was seeing the room where she had been assaulted.
She hit “Pause.” “This isn’t the hotel in Modesto where I woke up. It doesn’t look like a hotel room at all.”
It made sense. The video of her taking the bribe for Jasper’s name hadn’t been in a hotel room either. Plus, she must’ve screamed horribly. No way other guests wouldn’t have heard.
“Looks like the primary bedroom of a house,” Jasper said.
She braced herself for what she was about to see and hit “Play” again.
She could do this. Face the truth that was buried in her mind.
In the end, she wished she’d let Cole view it first, because the truth was too much. An irreparable blow. In spite of the drugs, she hadn’t been responsive at first, and that would never do. Not for what La Jirafa had demanded.
To fix it—to fix her—Leo had entered the room and coaxed her into arousal. Then he stepped off camera and let three strangers have her.
CHAPTER 46
The bedroom door slammed, leaving Cole alone with Jasper.
“She must not have had anything left to vomit,” Jasper said.
Cole stared at the frozen image on the screen. It was a testament to Signe’s control that she hadn’t smashed her computer. She’d broken the mouse, sure. But the computer could be used with the trackpad.
He hit the playback-speed button and dialed it up to three times normal. At two hours long, there was no way he could stomach it in real time, but they needed to know if there was another cameo by Leo or other information.
As they watched, he increased the speed. Only the earliest shots showed Signe as any kind of potentially willing participant. It got violent after that. She must’ve had bruises and lacerations for days.
And now he understood how she got the scars between her thighs.
Just before the video ended, a woman entered the room. DiscoFever. She wasn’t wearing the shirt, but Cole recognized her. He slowed the playback to real time and rewound to the moment the woman entered carrying a mug with a spoon.
Her face was expressionless as she sat on the edge of the bed next to Signe, who stared glassy-eyed into the distance, her body battered and bloody.
DiscoFever used coaxing words to get Signe to open her mouth so she could feed her broth one spoonful at a time. The liquid dribbled down Signe’s chin and neck, but DiscoFever continued feeding, her voice flat, clearly aware of the camera.
The recording ended. For the moment, Signe’s torture was over.
Cole stared at the blank screen in horrified silence. Jasper appeared equally dazed.
The refrigerator cycled on, a loud rumble in the still room.
Finally, Jasper said, “My guess is the house is near Oakhurst. DiscoFever was there. It’s probably where they hold the workers. There are lots of farms in the area.”
He understood why Jasper went straight to the information they could glean. It was why they’d watched the recording, after all. But Cole wasn’t ready to wrap his brain around the meaning of it all beyond the horror they’d just witnessed, so he simply nodded.
“This also explains how DiscoFever knew about the rape and connected it to the murders in the park.”
Again, Cole nodded.
Finally, Jasper said, “You need to go to her.”
He took a deep breath. “She won’t like that.” Hell, she’d rejected him for just asking about the scars. Now he’d watched her nightmare in Technicolor.
“Don’t be a chickenshit. She needs you. Jesus, I’m traumatized and it’s not even me in that video.”
Truth.
Cole felt the same way. “She really loved him, you know.”
“Not anymore.”
No. Not anymore.
Cole closed all the tabs and shut the laptop, then rose to his feet. “We’ll figure out what’s next after we get a few hours of sleep.”
He walked the short distance down the hall and raised his hand to knock but then thought better of it. He could hardly be considerate of her need to have her boundaries respected if she sent him away. And Jasper was right. She needed him.
He turned the knob and stepped into the darkened room. He expected to see her on the bed, curled in a ball, but instead she stood by the window, looking out into the dark night.
He approached her, his shoes making only the slightest of sounds on the worn wood floor, just enough that he wasn’t sneaking up on her.
He wrapped his arms around her and felt a surge of relief when she leaned into him.
He searched for words, but had none that would offer actual comfort. He could hardly apologize for Leo’s actions. All he could do was hold her.
She turned in his arms and pressed her face to his chest. Her body trembled against his but she wasn’t crying.
She raised her head and the look in her eyes told him that she was shaking with rage. He felt a fierce smile tug at him. She was sinking into the one emotion that would keep her going.
Rage had motivated Jasper for two years. Cole would bet she had a rage on that would power her for a decade or longer.
“We’re going to bring them all down, Signe. Everyone who did this to you.”
She nodded. “I know. It’s just a shame Leo is dead, because I’d really like to kill him myself.”
He cupped her cheek. “Same.”
“Was there anything I need to know in the rest of the video?”
“DiscoFever was there. You were in a daze, but she managed to feed you something. Looked like broth.” He closed his eyes and added, “The rest you could probably guess from your injuries. It got very violent.”
She nodded. “Was Leo in the room for that part? When they cut me?”
“I don’t think so. He wasn’t on camera again.”
“Might need to watch with the sound on to be certain.”
“There’s no need to be certain, and no way in hell am I watching that with the sound on. We already heard the one clip of you screaming.”
“The video will go a long way toward clearing me with the FBI.”
He nodded.
The faces of the men who raped and beat her had been clearly visible from the first frame. Leo’s involvement even proved she’d never been willing. He’d thoroughly betrayed her.
“Between Jasper’s near-murder and the human trafficking, this is a federal case. Jasper’s case will go to the Central District of California US Attorney for prosecution, because Jasper was in LA when they tried to kill him, but your assault happened in the Eastern District, and that’s where the trafficking victims were held and where John Doe was murdered. The two offices will probably come to an agreement and combine the cases, but there’ll be a lot of coordinating—and duplicating of files. I’m just warning you, not discouraging you. They’ll be careful with sensitive material like the video, but you know if it goes to trial for one of your rapists, a jury would see it.”
She nodded. “They might be counting on me not wanting it to be seen and push for a jury trial for that reason. But I won’t let them victim shame me. I didn’t have a choice in what was done to me.”
He tightened his arms around her. “You’re amazing, Signe.”
“No. I’m angry.”
“That too.”
She pulled his head down for a kiss. Like everything else about her in the moment, the kiss was fierce.
He kissed her deeply, giving her back the same energy and anger before raising his head to slow her down. Slow himself down, too, to be honest.
She rose on her toes and raked his chin with her teeth, then captured his bottom lip. It was just shy of a bite as she rode the edge of her anger.
He cupped her face as he pulled back again. “I get that you’re angry, I’m angry too. But I won’t be your angry fuck. Not like this. I won’t have sex with you when your emotions are in turmoil and you’re angry at the world and want to lash out. I’m not a punching bag.”
“I wasn’t planning on punching you.”
“But if you use my body in anger while thinking about Leo, then that’s what it would be. When I’m inside you, I’m the only man who should be in your head. The only exception I’ll allow is Channing Tatum.”
That drew a laugh from her, but then she seemed to deflate.
She pressed her head to his chest. “I’m so fucking angry right now. And I want sex to prove to myself it’s something I can have again, for me.”
“You don’t need to prove it right now. We already proved it once, and I’ll be here for you next week.”
“Will you, though? How do I know you aren’t repulsed by what was done to me?”
“I am repulsed, but you do not repulse me.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Neither of us is thinking clearly.”
“Why do we need to think clearly? It’s just sex.”
He asked himself the same thing. Why was he arguing with her? He could give her what they both wanted. It wasn’t like they hadn’t crossed this line already.
But he knew why.
He released her and stepped back. “That’s the problem. It’s just sex for you. But not, in this instance, for me.”
CHAPTER 47
They slept for five hours. Signe in the bed, Cole on the couch. It was good that she’d slept alone, as she’d been violent even in her sleep, fighting the dream memories that now came to her in crystal clear HD.
She knew their faces. She knew their bodies. But the biggest monster of them all was Leo.
The smell of coffee pulled her from the bed in the late morning. At least she was back in the land of coffee makers and this morning someone else had even made it before she was awake. That hadn’t happened since she was married. Well, except when Cole got her a cup from Curry Village on Wednesday. Of course, now she realized he’d probably gone to meet with Jasper one more time before their hike.
Neither the first nor last deception he’d painted as kindness.
She wandered into the kitchen to find Cole and Jasper both shirtless and sitting at the table. It was clear Jasper had spent much of his free time these last two years at the gym. His lightly tanned arms and torso sported bigger muscles than he had back when she first met him. His hard body was a good match for his scarred face. Not the sort of man one would dare fuck around with. If he returned to undercover work, he’d be perfect in the role of hitman—just above falcon but below lieutenant in cartel hierarchy.
He’d have to move to a different region, but there wasn’t a shortage of big cities with criminal underworlds for him to infiltrate. She could give him tips on who to contact in Chicago and Miami.
Of course, the FBI was likely to be a tad angry he’d played dead for the last two years. So perhaps he shouldn’t respond to hitman job postings just yet.
She poured herself a mug of coffee and sat at the table.
“Nope,” Jasper said. “This place has a dress code for breakfast. No shirts allowed.”
Curious to see how Cole would react, she reached for the hem of her T-shirt and said, “Whatever.”
He grabbed her hand. “Nope. We also have a no topless women in front of Jasper policy.”
“You guys have really specific and conflicting rules.”
Jasper shrugged. “That happens with roommates.”
She sipped her coffee, wondering what their apartment had been like before Jasper’s murder. Maybe she’d get a roommate after this. Make friends. For the first time, she could imagine . . . something.
The oppressive weight on her chest just might be lifted.
She picked up her phone from the center of the table where she’d left it last night and powered it on. “Maybe DiscoFever tried to reach out in the last few hours.”
Cellular was still turned off, but with Wi-Fi, she could see if she had voice mail messages or texts.
A half dozen text message pings sounded and she opened the app. “Not DiscoFever. Shit. Steven.” She read the messages and dread filled her. “He’s looking for Leo. Some guys came by his apartment last night, asking questions about the cabin he inherited with Leo.”
She glanced up from the phone. “He says he doesn’t know anything about an inherited cabin.”
“So Leo lied to you about that too,” Cole said.
“It appears so.”
“Unless Steven is lying,” Jasper said.
“I hope he’s not. If the guys who questioned him think he’s holding out on them, they’ll be back. I should warn him.”
Cole shook his head. “You can’t. No calls. No texts. You can’t even let him know you read his texts. He’s being watched and is safer if you stay away. Your phone doesn’t send read receipts, does it?”
“Of course not.”
“Good. Ignore Steven, then. At least we no longer need to track him down,” Jasper said.
“Shouldn’t we tell the FBI to watch over him? Put a guard on his apartment?”
“That’ll just put a target on him,” Cole said. “And we can’t involve the FBI until we have Leo’s files from the cabin. The FBI would detain you and take the files. And if anyone from La Jirafa gets to the cabin first . . .”
“The fact that they questioned Steven means they’re still looking,” Jasper said. “They’re no closer to finding the cabin, while we have the actual address.”
She sighed. “Okay, so breakfast, then we hit the road for the San Jacinto Mountains.” The cabin was about 110 miles away from the rental house. Traffic and winding roads would likely make it a two-and-a-half-hour drive.
“I’m not going with you to the cabin,” Jasper said. “I’m going to tap some of my old contacts in the cartel and see if I can find DiscoFever.”
She jolted. She wanted to find the woman—especially knowing she’d cared for Signe during her missing hours—but still her heart squeezed with fear. “Isn’t that . . . a completely and horrifically dangerous thing for you to do?”
“If they don’t know who DiscoFever is yet, it’s only a matter of time. This is our chance to save her and the ten workers who didn’t escape in Yosemite that day. They’re probably all working on a farm near Oakhurst. I’d like it if we could walk away from this case with at least one win for the good guys.”
She let out a small gasp. It hadn’t crossed her mind they could still save people. She’d been too focused on what had happened to her. And really, what had happened to her was nothing compared to years of enslavement. She reached out and squeezed Jasper’s hand. “How can I help?”
“You can start by giving me your car.”
Twenty minutes later, they were on the road, heading back to Signe’s so Jasper could claim her hatchback. They agreed to check in throughout the day, although they all knew Signe and Cole wouldn’t have cell coverage at Leo’s cabin.
After parting ways with Jasper—a hug for Signe and a manly fist bump between the two undercover agents—she and Cole were in his vehicle, heading for the mountain range that was almost due east of her Redondo Beach home.
As he drove, she realized it had been exactly one week since she and Cole entered the park.
One week.
She’d been unsure if DiscoFever was an ally or leading her into a trap. She’d brought a gun in case it was a trap and hired a guide in case it was not.
It was strange to think about how many times her opinion of her guide had flipped since he stepped into her hotel room.
She’d been certain he’d killed Leo. Been certain he’d sent her the horrific texts. She’d believed he’d haunted her sleep with chains and a distorted voice.
But no. If she were to guess, it was Roman—or another employee of La Jirafa—who killed Leo. She knew Leo had sent the texts, and Jasper was the specter with the chains.
Cole had been her guide. He’d found the camp using his knowledge of archaeology.
She could trust him.
Couldn’t she?
Signe turned on her phone’s GPS before they reached the mountain road that led to Leo’s hideaway. Within a few miles of the first turnoff, cell coverage stopped but the satellite connection remained to aid their navigation. Miles after that, the road became a gravel track that was pitted with potholes. They wound up the hillside, the road shaded by tall trees.
She understood why Leo had chosen this spot. It was remote and hidden and without cellular coverage, so no one could track his phone pings on cell towers.
She guessed Leo had buried the purchase of the cabin with shell companies. He’d had up-close instruction on how to commit real-estate fraud thanks to one of her stories, and she’d also researched how assets were hidden from the IRS.
Tax crime didn’t interest her unless it intersected with organized crime—hello, Al Capone—so she’d never done much with the buried assets data she’d gathered.
But Leo had.
As they went deeper and deeper into the woods and higher up the remote hillside, she could see how this would be the perfect place for a crime lord to set up shop, especially if he didn’t want his investigative reporter of a wife to catch on to what he was doing.
What would he have done if she’d asked to join him at the cabin sometime?
Exactly what he’d done when she searched his computer: divorced her.
Even then, Leo’s secrets had been unraveling, but she was too fogged by the shock of her rape to see it. Now she realized that, too, had been part of the plan.
After two years of investigating and last night’s deep dive into Leo’s files, Jasper was certain he had it figured out. DiscoFever had worked for La Jirafa back around the time when the kingpin suspected it was Leo who’d stolen a chunk of his business while he was still consolidating power.
