I was up before her the next morning. I took the sat phone into the bathroom when I went for my morning shower, seeking a little privacy to call Ariella back. But when I went to access the phone, I was alerted that someone had entered the security code six times unsuccessfully.

Why would she play around with my sat phone when there was a land line right next to the bed?

I glanced toward the door, uncertainty rushing over me. Was Rachel really who she said she was? But I dismissed that thought as quickly as it occurred to me. Who else could she be? No woman in her right mind would pretend to have been raped…for what? To trick a man into saving her? It was a ridiculous thought.

I put through the call, turning on the water in the shower to give myself added privacy.

“Hello, sweetheart,” I said when her sweet voice filled the phone.

“Moshe! I was worried for you.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t call back right away.”

“I know. I have a situation here I’m dealing with. But I would never leave you hanging, I promise.”

“I know.”

“Tell me about your week.”

I sat back on the toilet and listened to the soft strains of her voice, the Hebrew that was so lyrical and soothing to my ears. She spoke excitedly about her studies, but less enthusiastically about the lessons she was given in the home and at the temple. She transported me home with her words, reminding me of days long past.

“Tell me,” she finally said, “how is the security game?”

I smiled. I liked the way she referred to my work. “It’s boring right now. We’re still in Arizona trying to start up the satellite office.”

“Are you still the boss?”

“For a while longer. But Jack’s due back at the end of the week.”

“He’ll see how well you did and promote you.”

I leaned forward, stretching my back as a big smile burst onto my face. “I don’t know about that. But I’m glad you have such faith in me.”

“I’ve always had faith in you.”

“Good.” I closed my eyes, always sad when the conversation came to this point. “I must let you go. I’ll be waiting for your call next week.”

“You’ll talk to me at the scheduled time?”

“Of course.” I stood, reaching into the shower to turn on the heat now that I was nearly ready to get in. “Nothing will stop me from talking to you, my love.”

“You’re such a charmer, Moshe.” She sighed. “Stay safe. I love you!”

“Love you, too.”

I disconnected the call and stood there a moment, the phone between my hands. They killed me, these phone calls. All week long, I could make peace with my situation. But hearing her voice always made me long for home.

I had to force myself to turn my attention to the rest of my day. I set the phone down and undressed, thinking of all that waited for me at the office. It was my turn to take a shift at Alli’s while Matthew took the morning off, and Quentin played bodyguard. Before that, I’d have to deal with the office duties, checking security feeds and keeping up with emails. Jack called every morning, too, so I’d have to deal with that as well.

I liked being the boss, but I wondered if things would work this smoothly if we had more operatives and a bigger list of clients.

My shower done, I stepped out into the bedroom in a clean suit, feeling a little sticky from the humidity that had built up in the bathroom. Rachel was awake, watching me as I moved around the room, gathering my shoes and socks before sitting to pull them on.

“You’re leaving again.”

It wasn’t a question. I nodded, tugging one Italian loafer onto my foot before turning my attention to the other.

“Do you need anything before I go?”

“I don’t guess so.” She curled up under the blankets, watching me move around the room. “What do you do for a living, anyway?”

“I work security.”

“In a suit like that?”

I glanced down at myself. “I like to look professional.”

“When I think of security, I think of guys in cheap cop suits.”

“We don’t wear that sort of thing. Most of the guys wear jeans and a sports coat. Even I do, from time to time. But I prefer my suits.”

“You must make good money.”

I finished with my shoes and stood to grab my tie. “I don’t have a lot of expenses. The company’s paying for the hotel, my meals, and my car.”

“That’s a sweet deal.”

“What do you do for a living?”

She grew quiet for a long moment. “I worked retail for a while. But I got laid off a couple of months back, and I’ve been staying with my parents.”

I wrapped my tie around my neck, watching her. She wasn’t looking at me. She’d pulled the covers up to her face, hiding between the comforter and her thick hair.

“Is there someone I need to call, to let them know you’re safe?”

She shook her head. “My parents think I’m in Yuma. No one else cares all that much.”

Finished dressing, I went to the bed and settled beside her for a second. “If you need anything, my card’s on the dresser. You can call my cell. Otherwise, I’ll be back before dark.”

“Is there a girl I should worry about showing up? A girlfriend or a wife?”

“No. Never been married, never intend to be married. And I haven’t been here long enough to get too deeply involved with anyone.”

“You strike me as the kind of man who always has a woman chasing after him.”

I brushed a piece of hair from her face, wanting to see those gray eyes. “You’re probably right about that. But Ellaville has put a little crimp in my social life, I’m afraid. That church and everything.”

“I bet even the church girls find you irresistible.”

“They might, but no one would ever know.” I played with her hair a little, stroking it like I might my sister’s. “We’re kind of personae non gratae around here, after we took down the Guardians.”

“You’re part of that security company?” she sat up a little, looking at me with raw wonder in her eyes. “I heard about that raid. If not for you guys, half the Guardians wouldn’t be in jail!”

I wasn’t sure if her reaction was negative or positive. I stood and grabbed my keys from the dresser.

“I should go. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Thank you, Patrick,” she said softly.

I glanced over my shoulder at her. She’d settled back down against the pillows, her eyes downcast.

“Stay in the room. Don’t talk to anyone.”

I made sure the privacy sign was on the door again before I left. The maids here were nice, but I wasn’t sure how Rachel would react to them. It was better to be safe than sorry.

I was halfway down the stairs when I realized I’d left the sat phone in the bathroom. I retraced my steps, nodding to one of the maids as she came out of a neighboring room.

“Fresh towels?” she asked.

I grabbed a handful and went inside. Rachel was curled up on the bed, out from under the covers now. She watched me cross the room, but didn’t say anything. I put the towels away and grabbed the sat phone, dropping it into a drawer in the dresser.

“Rest. I’ll be back this evening.”

Her eyes were hard on me, watching me closely. She didn’t say anything, simply settled deep into the pillows as she watched me go.

Had she gotten up in the short time I was gone? Was she trying to hide that from me?

Why would she?

 

 

I spent the morning on Stone Security business, having a long conversation with both Jack and Brent about our current clients and a few prospects that had come in this week. They seemed excited about how well things were going here, and I allowed myself a little congratulatory pat on the back. Just a little one. And then I went to Alli’s to open the shop. She had an employee she’d hired some months back, Tracy, a woman who came to watch the cash register and restock whenever necessary. She was a local, a bored housewife with an empty nest. She smiled when she came in, her eyes moving over me in a familiar sort of way.

“How are you this fine morning?” she asked.

I shrugged. “No worse than any other morning.”

Tracy smiled. “It could be better, you know. Find yourself a sweet little thing to warm your bed at night.”

“But then I wouldn’t want to go to work in the morning.” I winked. “Get to work, Trace. Let me get to my own stuff.”

“If necessary.”

I went to the office and looked through the paperwork Quentin and Matthew always left for me. There’d been some big sales over the last few days from the website Alli maintained. She made it seem like the shop had been suffering during the height of the Guardians’ harassment, but she could probably close down the physical shop and still make enough to keep her in lip gloss and college tuition for her kid. The website was the bulk of her business, as it likely was for any shop of this nature.

I counted out the bank deposit and dropped it into the safe to wait for tonight’s totals. The orders Tracy had taken care of were packaged and boxed, stacked in a corner of the storeroom waiting for me to drive over to the post office. Once everything was in order, I turned to the computer and looked up the local high school, pleased to find a reunion website connected to it that listed the names of students who’d graduated over the past twenty years.

I wanted to find the guys who’d hurt Rachel.

I had to guess at the year she’d graduated, giving myself a few years forward and backward from the potential date. It was a small town, but there were nearly two hundred in each graduating class. Half of those, in some cases three-quarters, were boys. But I had a list of local men who owned white panel vans like the one I saw on the security video, and there were only ten on the list who lived within fifty miles of Ellaville.

I went through the names several times, expanding my search parameters, frustrated when none of the names on my list came up. None.

The van could have been owned by the one guy’s buddy, but she said they had both been students at the school. Had the other boy not graduated?

“Lunch time,” Tracy announced, coming to the door of the office. “You want me to call that sandwich shop on tenth?”

“Sure.” I sat back and turned to her. “You’ve lived in the area most of your life, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” Her eyes flicked to the computer screen. “You looking for someone?”

“If I wanted to find someone who went to the local high school like five, seven years ago, someone who didn’t graduate, how would be best to go about it?”

“Do you have a name?”

“Ten names.”

She bit her lower lip. “My son graduated six years ago. Maybe I could look at the list.”

I handed it to her, settling back to watch her face as she read it. Her eyebrows rose almost immediately as she touched a name on the page. “This guy graduated with my son. He works for the local paper, delivering to the stores and the few subscribers who still exist in town.” She turned the paper so I could see it. “But whatever you think he did, I doubt he’s capable.”

“Why?”

“He was in a car accident his sophomore year. They let him graduate with his class, but the brain damage was pretty extensive. He doesn’t talk much. He drives, but I think that’s the most complicated thing he can do. He doesn’t walk well, uses a cane. And he cries at the drop of a hat.”

I sighed. “Anyone else on that list?”

She read through it more than once, it seemed like. She hesitated, but then shook her head. “Sorry.”

I took the list back and sighed. “I didn’t think it would be as easy as that.”

“What are you looking for?”

I pulled up the video footage from the night Rachel was dumped. Tracy moved up close so she could watch the van speed out of the parking lot. Then I showed her the picture I’d printed of the van from that same video. Unfortunately, I hadn’t been able to get a clear view of the license plate, but the make and model were easy to distinguish.

“This was here?”

“Yeah. I thought at first that it was just kids running donuts in the parking lot. But I think they were up to more than that.”

“And you think it was a local kid?”

“I have some reliable information pointing in that direction.”

She shook her head, handing the picture back. “I can tell you, I don’t recognize any of those names on that list as kids who graduated in the last five to seven years. But I do recognize one who might have a son who did.” She pointed to a name on my list. “His son is the same age as mine.”

“Thanks, Tracy.”

She hesitated. “He has a record.”

“For what?”

“Assault.”

I nodded, more inspired than she could imagine. “Against a woman?”

She bit her lip. “I don’t like to spread gossip, but I heard it was. That he accosted a woman outside a bar after a night of hard drinking a year or two ago.”

“What’s the son’s name?”

“James.”

I got up and kissed Tracy’s cheek. “Thanks. You have no idea how important this is.”

She looked up at me, a coy smile coming to her lips. “I’d spend the last of my days trying to keep you happy, sweetheart, if this is the reward it gets me.”

I laughed before kissing her again, a solid peck in the center of her forehead. Then I turned her around and gave her ass a little pat as I pushed her back into the store. “Go order lunch. I’m suddenly starved!”

There was a blush on her cheeks when she glanced back at me.

 

 

I watched his apartment for more than an hour, waiting for him to come outside. I could see him moving around inside, his shadow crossing the windows from time to time. It was early evening, the perfect time for him to go out for a drink, or whatever it was ex-cons did with their evenings.

I headed over there the moment Matthew relieved me at Alli’s. I should have gone back to the hotel to check on Rachel, but I wanted to act on this information as quickly as I could. If this was the ass who’d hurt her, I wanted her to know that he’d been taken care of.

The fact that a van exactly like the one that had sped from Alli’s parking lot that night was parked in front of his apartment was encouraging.

Just as I’d hoped, he came out the front door, bouncing his keys in his palm. I watched as he climbed behind the wheel of the van and pulled out, headed to the north side of town. I followed, far enough back that he wouldn’t see me, but close enough so I wouldn’t lose him. He took a winding path to a bar on the outskirts of town, not terribly far from Alli’s. He clearly knew this side of town.

I sat at the back of the smoky bar, one of the few places in the country that still allowed smoking in the building. I nursed a beer in the time this creep managed to put away five shots of tequila and a few tumblers of whiskey. He was stumbling when he got off his stool a few hours in and made his way to the men’s toilet.

I followed, waiting until the room was empty save for him. I stood by the door, flipping the narrow lock so that we wouldn’t be disturbed. He tripped his way out of the stall, a smile greeting me when he noticed the way I was casually leaning against the door, watching him.

“Nice night,” he said. “Music’s not too loud, and the girls are friendly.”

“Are they?”

“Sure. There’s this real sweetheart by the bar who seems fresh and ready for a little fun.” He stood at the sink and stared at himself in the mirror, not bothering to wash his hands. Instead, he reached up to smooth a piece of loose hair out of his eyes. “I think I might test the waters, see what she might be up for. Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

He turned and came toward me, thinking I would move when he approached so that he could leave. Instead, I grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed my fist into his soft stomach. Air rushed from his lips as he bent forward slightly, held up by my hand on his shoulder. I pushed him back, shoved him against the sinks.

“You know a girl named Rachel?”

When he didn’t answer, I punched him again, in the jaw this time. His head snapped back and slammed into the mirror, cracking it.

“You know Rachel?”

“There’s a hundred Rachels in this town!” he grunted, his voice filled with pain. “Which one?”

“The one you fucking raped three days ago.”

He jerked back like I’d hit him again. “No, man,” he said, raising his hands in front of his face. “I didn’t do that. That’s not me!”

“You’re on parole for attacking a woman in a parking lot.”

“That was a misunderstanding!” His voice rose a few octaves as he stared at me through pleading eyes. “We were making out in her car, and she changed her mind! She screamed, and these guys in the next car thought I was attacking her. I wasn’t! I was trying to untangle my damn watch from her hair!”

“That wasn’t her story.”

“She lied. She was married.”

“Where were you Sunday night?”

The guy’s eyes moved frantically over my face, desperation clear in his expression as he glanced down at my fist already balled and ready for a new set of blows. And then relief suddenly burst bright.

“I was making a delivery for my father! In Tucson!”

I tilted my head slightly. “You have proof?”

“Yeah, man.”

I stepped back as he reached into his back pocket for his wallet. He pulled out a couple of receipts, one for a gas station in Tucson, the other for a diner on the highway halfway between here and there.

Hell! It wasn’t him.

I balled up the receipts and threw them on the floor before slamming my fist into his middle again. I leaned close to him as he doubled up, groaning in pain.

“Stay away from women who don’t want your attention, friend,” I said. “Or I will come back.”

“Who the fuck are you? The sex police?” he demanded as I turned to leave. I spun back around and slammed another blow into the side of his head followed by two more quick jabs.

“Learn a little common sense. Don’t hurt women, and don’t mess with the man who has you on your knees.”

I walked out, leaving him on the floor, groaning. He was probably still there, on his knees, when I pulled out of the parking lot.

It wasn’t him. But he was my best, and only, suspect. I’d have to get more information out of Rachel if I was going to find the guys who did this to her.

It was time to go back to the hotel and have another long conversation with my new guest. Beginning with her full name.