Traveling Trouble, page 19
“Elyse, check my pocket.”
Elyse stopped working on the tape and dragged her body in front of Bridgett. “On my right side. In the change pocket.”
“The what pocket?”
“Change. That little pocket above the front pocket.”
“My jeans don’t have that.”
True, most women’s jeans didn’t, but hers did. “Just put your hand on my pocket and feel around.”
Elyse started too low. Bridgett guided her. “Up a little higher. Higher. Right there. You feel anything?” She held her breath waiting for the answer.
“Yes. There is something small and hard.”
“Great. Take it out.”
It took a moment for Elyse to find the entry. With every passing second it took, Bridgett wanted to scream. Elyse wiggled her fingers inside and pulled it out.
“What is it?”
“It’s a knife. Open it.”
“Got it.”
“Great. Now hurry and cut through my rope.”
The younger woman sawed at the rope until it parted. Bridgett pulled her arms in front of her slowly as the pain from her cramped position became known. She rubbed her wrists then said, “Let me have the knife.” She winced as she took it, miscalculating where the blade was. She put the injured finger in her mouth and sucked, tasting the blood.
With her other hand she set the blade under the string and pulled up and back. In one try, the string fell away. She handed the knife back to Elyse. “Cut your feet free and go down the line and free anyone who wants to escape.”
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” the accomplice said.
“You wouldn’t,” said Bridgett.
“I’m serious. You’re going to get us all punished.”
“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to punish you.”
Bridgett got slowly to her feet. Her head began to thump and her vision swam. She had to get her body under control or any escape attempt would fail before it got started.
The other woman’s voice rose. “You shouldn’t do this.” She banged on the side of the truck wall.
Was that a signal to the driver that trouble was brewing? Fortunately, they weren’t in the truck just then. “Trying to warn your friends?”
“What are you talking about?”
But it wasn’t confusion in her voice as much as worry.
“You know damn well what, traitor.”
Bridgett squatted and found some of the tape Elyse had cut away. She picked it up and advanced on the other woman. She delivered a hard kick, but she wasn’t sure of its effectiveness it the dark. She squatted and put her hand out until she found the woman’s head.
She screamed, “Help!”
Bridgett whacked the woman’s head against the truck’s wall twice. Then, as she wailed, Bridgett pressed the used tape against her mouth. She held it there until she found another piece and added it. “Elyse, bring me the tape you cut.”
Elyse crept over. “Here. What are you doing?”
“Taping the mouth of this traitor.”
“Traitor?”
“Yes. She’s working for the traffickers. It’s her job to talk you out of any escape attempts and warn them if you’re planning anything.” Even in the dark, Bridgett was aware of Elyse’s jaw gaping.
“Why would you do that?” Elyse said to the girl.
Bridgett secured the final piece around the woman’s head. “My guess is she no longer has to trick for them if she works to bring in other girls. Isn’t that right?” She gripped the traitor’s face hard on either side of her mouth. “If you try anything to warn them, I will cut out your eyes with my knife.” She banged her head against the wall and stood.
“How close are you to finishing?”
Elyse said. “I think two more girls.”
That was good. Now she had to organize them into an attack when the door opened next.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Bridgett moved toward the door and tried the inside handle. The door didn’t budge. She became aware of pain on both sides of her chest and placed a hand on one breast. It was then she realized she was no longer wearing a bra. The thought sent jolts of fear through her heart. “Oh God, no, please,” she said softly to herself. She lifted her shirt while facing the door. No one could see her in the dark anyway, but that didn’t matter.
She rubbed a hand over each breast, determining that they were the sites of the pain. Then her hand ran across something dry but tacky. She brought her fingers to her nose and sniffed, recognizing instantly what it was. “Shit,” she said loudly. She wiped the cum on her pant leg and undid her pants. She was still wearing her panties. She thought and hoped that was a good thing. She slid her hand inside and searched for evidence of semen but came away with nothing. She was also lacking in the after-sex feeling that often existed when she and Drew were done.
She wasn’t sure what to make of the discovery. She didn’t think she’d been raped, but clearly he had done something. Had he just ejaculated on her chest? What about the pain? Shit. Maybe he’d bitten her. She stood for a moment, lost in fear and conjecture, then decided regardless of what had happened, she couldn’t dwell on it now. She put herself back together. As she tucked her shirt into her pants, her hand brushed against something in her back pocket.
Instant recognition was followed by a whoop of elation. She slid her cell phone from her back pocket. The idiot had been so intent on doing whatever he’d done to her that he never searched her. In the movies, the exciting discovery would be followed by the sickening realization there was either no cell service or the phone was dead. In this case, the screen showed both were good.
Quickly she scrolled down the recent calls and pressed Drew’s number. When he answered, his voice was loud enough to be heard throughout the truck.
“Bridgett. Is that you?”
“Yes. Drew.”
“Oh my god.” He was crying. “I’m so happy to hear your voice.”
“Drew.”
“I was so worried.”
“Drew.”
“Where are you?”
“Drew, shut up and listen. We need your help.”
He spoke to someone else. “I’m putting you on speaker phone. “I’m here with Ogrodnick and Todd Magnoll.”
He was interrupted and the voice of Magnoll came on.
“Mrs. Conroy, where are you?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure of how much time I have. We’ve been abducted.”
“We’ve?”
“Please just listen. Ask questions later. There’s about fifteen of us. We’re in a truck and being driven, but I’m not sure where. We’ve been on the road for several hours, so do the math. It’s a human trafficking ring.” She had an idea. “Hold a second.”
She scrolled up the flashlight and switched it on. The girls all got excited and made noises. Bridgett shushed them and walked toward the traitor. “Elyse, I need my knife.” The young woman approached. She was thin with long dark hair and dark eyes. She had pale, pretty skin and stood about two inches shorter than Bridgett. She took the knife and squatted in front of the traitor. She made a point of flashing the small blade in front of her. Her eyes widened with fear, as was Bridgett’s intent. “I’m going to pull the tape away and you’re going to answer my questions. If you don’t, I’m going to cut out your eye. You understand that?”
Bridgett would never do something so vile, but the girl had to believe she would. The woman nodded. Bridgett pulled the tape down. The girl was not much older than Elyse, but the hard life she led aged her to look ten years older.
“Where are we going?”
The woman hesitated and Bridgett turned the knife point toward the eye and moved forward.
“No. No. I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you.”
“Well, tell me.”
An angry defiant glare ignited behind the girl’s eyes. “Sure. I’ll tell you. It won’t matter anyway since you can’t get off this truck. We’re going to Toledo. It’s a regular run. We pick up other girls on the way. Once we reach Toledo, the girls are divvied up and sent to various markets north west and south.”
“You got that?” Bridgett said into the phone.
“Magnoll said, “Yes. I heard it.”
A voice in the background that she recognized as Ogrodnick’s said, “Ask her if she knows the route.”
“What route do we take?”
She shrugged. “How do I know? I’m always back here.”
“If it’s Toledo, they may be taking ninety. That runs through New York all the way through Ohio.”
“How long is the trip?”
“Not sure,” the traitor said. “We’ve been in the truck for a couple of hours. We usually leave at midnight but we left an hour early. After stops for more girls and one refuel, we’ll arrive sometime in the afternoon. It varies, depending on how many stops and how long each takes.”
Bridgett said, “If I remember right, it was about fifteen hours from Cleveland to Lubec non-stop. Bethel is five hours closer. It’s after five now. Six hours driving figure sixty miles per, roughly three hundred and sixty miles. They’ll have to stop for gas at least once, which may be now.”
“Yeah,” Ogrodnick said. “A rough calculation says you might be in New York by now.”
“How many men ride with the truck?” Bridgett asked.
The girl shrugged and looked away. Bridgett had no patience left. She dropped on the girl, exploding air from her lungs, then gripped her hair and bounced her head into the wall. “I’m tired of you. Whether your friends out there find you in one piece or a bunch of little ones is up to you. I’m good either way.”
“Okay. Don’t hurt me. There’s two.”
“Just two, or is there a follow car?” Bridgett could see the lie that was about to come out in the girl’s eyes. She moved the knife toward her eye then veered off and pricked her cheek. The girl cried out. A drop of blood formed.
“There’s a car with two more men.”
Bridgett got up.
“But they all have guns and you’re all gonna die.”
“Elyse. Slap some tape over her mouth.”
“With pleasure.”
The groans of the traitor were background noise to the next question.
Magnoll said, “What kind of truck are you in?”
“It’s like a U-Haul, perhaps a fifteen to eighteen footer. Ceiling is about eight foot.”
“How much juice you got on the phone?” Magnoll asked.
“I’m at twenty-two percent. Look, we managed to get free and are waiting for a chance to escape.”
“Hold on that,” Magnoll said. “Just stay put. These men are dangerous. You don’t want any of the other girls getting hurt. We already have the word running down the line. We’ll find you.”
“Dude, I don’t know you and you certainly don’t know me, but if I get the chance to get these girls out of here, I’m doing it. We can’t risk that you don’t find us. If that happens, none of us will have a happy future. We’re stopped right now. I’m guessing we’re at some truck stop. Get all the staties rolling from there to Ohio looking for us. Maybe look for Maine plates.”
“Okay. We’ll be in touch. Save the battery on the phone.”
“Okay. Out.”
The frightened murmuring had turned to excitement. Bridgett glanced around. “Are all the girls free?” she asked Elyse.
“Yes.”
“Good. We have to form a plan. Once that door opens, it’s important to get as many girls outside as possible. Once out, you must all scatter. Make it hard for them to catch you. The longer it takes to round us up, the better chance we’ll be discovered. They said something about eating so there must be a building, maybe a truck stop. Run for that and make as much noise as possible.”
“What if they shoot us?” a frightened girl of about fourteen asked.
“They won’t. They want you alive. You can’t make them money if you’re dead. Besides, they won’t risk shooting if other people are around. They might rough you up a little, but they won’t shoot. Don’t even stop if they say they’re going to shoot. Just run.”
“But they will hurt us,” a young black girl said. “Punish us, like that girl said.” She pointed to the traitor.
“You have to decide what’s worse. A few bumps and bruises that will heal or a lifetime of being someone’s sex toy. I seriously don’t think you want that. No one deserves to be anyone’s slave for any reason. I know you’re afraid. You have to overcome that fear and transfer it into the energy you need to fight back. If everyone goes, some will get caught and some will get away, but it’s the time that’s important. You have to get someone’s attention so they bring the police.”
“Is it true, what you said about her?” a brown-haired girl of perhaps sixteen asked.
“Yes, I’m afraid it is.”
“Why would she do that?”
“Because she’s a rotten bitch,” Elyse said in a burst of anger. She stepped forward and kicked the woman in the side. The girl screamed, rolled to the floor, and began crying.
Bridgett grabbed Elyse and backed her away. “It’s not entirely her fault. I’m sure she was once like you. Maybe they made her an offer to do this instead of tricks. It might not be right but what would any of you do if you were her?”
“Are we going to leave her here?” asked the black girl.
“Yes.”
The girl cried harder, perhaps realizing she had blown her only chance to escape this life.
Bridgett explained her plan. “We have to make it look like we’re still in position or they’ll just slam the door back down and lock us in. I need one strong girl to be with me. As soon as I move the rest of you, get up and run forward.”
The black girl, who said her name was Tanya, said, “I’m pretty strong. What do I have to do?”
Bridgett motioned her forward and pointed to wooden crossbars on the walls of the truck on both sides of the door. “You need to stand up here so they can’t see your feet right away. Once the door opens, put your hands on it and keep it open until the rest of the girls get to you. Whatever happens, don’t let the door close.”
“What are you going to do?” Tanya asked.
“I’ll be on the other side doing the same thing. When the door is open wide enough, I’m going to take the man who opens it down so he can’t close it. After that, everyone pile out and run. There are only four men and a lot of us. They can’t catch us all. If one of them grabs you, kick scratch, and scream. Stomp on the instep, aim a finger for the eyes, knee them in the balls, get a finger in the ear and pull hard. Just don’t quit fighting. Make them work to control you.”
She looked around the tense, frightened faces. Most, she guessed were between the ages of thirteen and sixteen. Tanya was older; maybe eighteen to twenty. They were terrified and Bridgett thought at least half would be too scared to make the attempt, but she couldn’t help that. If she could get even one girl to safety and delay the shipment, it would be worth the effort.
She looked at her phone. The battery was down to seventeen percent. The flashlight was drawing too much juice. “Good luck to us all. Stand tall, and together and we’ll get through this.”
She turned the light off and moved up next to the door. It would be time soon.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
BT was pissed. He was angry at not finding the woman and angry at his boss for sending a watcher. He was also peeved that the watcher was better than him. Most of all, he was mad at himself for not having done a better job. He had a chance to go in and steal the property. He was sure he could have gotten it below what his boss wanted to pay but he delayed; not because he feared they wouldn’t sell, but because of greed. If he sold the property below the amount set by the boss, the rest was his. He was sure the owners would have sold after the second body turned up, but his greed and ego wanted more. Now with the new restaurant drawing in good numbers, his chance of any bonus money had faded.
He drove past the inn three more times but never found the SUV again. He decided to give up and try again the next night. As he drove past the inn one final time, he noticed two state police cars parked in front of the building. They were talking to the man who was with the woman. He did not see her or the SUV. Perhaps she was still out.
What was going on? Had some other misfortune fallen upon the inn owners? He hoped so. It made his job that much easier, especially if it involved something that could never be traced back to him. Still, he’d like to know exactly what was happening. Perhaps he could add some extra fuel to the fire.
As tempting as it was, BT knew driving in there would only bring him to the attention of the police. He drove toward where he parked his car thinking maybe the night hadn’t been a complete loss after all.
Dusty was drunk. He thought about calling Agnes for some late night fun but decided he shouldn’t be driving at all and adding extra miles would not be smart. Richie had been great. His friend complimented him all night long. Though he hadn’t come out and said it directly, Dusty got the feeling he was off the hook with their boss. That was good. It took a lot of stress and pressure off his shoulders. He felt safe again going home.
He thought about the woman. Man, that had been sweet. He not only got his revenge for the pistol whipping she had given him but had gone a couple up on her. He thought about her breasts. They had been nice. She was going to wake up with some nice souvenirs. He hoped the deep bite marks he’d left on each one hurt like hell and stayed with her a long time so she would remember him and know he was the one who put her where she was. He hoped the first john who bought her was brutal.
