Author: Allison Brennan
Category: Suspense
Go to read content：https://onlinereadfreenovel.com/allison-brennan/page,17,90279-the_lost_girls.html
“An infant was left at a church in Freer. It’s under police protection at the hospital. I think it’s Marisol’s baby.”
“She wouldn’t hurt a fly!”
“No, Ma, that’s not what I mean. I mean that the police think that the baby’s mother is in danger. And then Adam said another woman who’d just had a baby was found dead in an alley.”
Nadia crossed herself.
“Where did Marisol go?”
“I don’t know, she wouldn’t tell me.”
George came into the kitchen. “I heard her on the phone. I know where she’s going. We should be able to catch up with her.”
But when they arrived at the intersection fifteen minutes later, there was no sign of Marisol or anyone else.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kane was on edge, which put Sean on edge.
“What haven’t you told me?” Sean asked as he secured the plane. They’d landed at a private airstrip outside of Guadalajara. According to Kane, no one used it regularly, and they should be good for a day or two.
“After the cartel used Siobhan to lure me into a trap, I’m wary.” Kane double-checked his .45 and slipped a back-up into an ankle holster. “I traced the helicopter and ID’d the guy with Gabriella. I’m pretty sure she’s in deep with the Flores Cartel. No one can know our real connection to this rescue.”
“No one knows Jesse is mine,” Sean said. “I didn’t even know until yesterday.”
Kane didn’t say anything.
“You think Madison set us up?” Sean shook his head. “If that were the case, she would have gone through RCK to ensure you were brought on. No one wants my head.”
Kane grunted.
“Not as much as they want your head.”
“You can’t come with me to Dante’s.”
“Don’t play overprotective big brother with me, not anymore.”
“It’s complicated. Dante Romero has survived this long in a dangerous business because he’s paranoid and cautious. Two Rogans is going to set him off. He can’t know that you were approached, that you’re the one who was hired. He especially can’t know that you have a personal stake. He’s smart. He’ll figure it out and leverage the information. Old family friends isn’t going to buy us shit. The story will be you’re my pilot. You’ve flown for me before, that’s not going to raise any flags. But if Dante knows you’re primary, he’ll want to know why. He’s good at math, and he is damn good at getting information. He’ll sell it, and that puts the kid at risk.”
Against every instinct, Sean reluctantly agreed with Kane. “Keep me in the loop, or I won’t stay with the damn plane.”
Sean watched Kane slip away, then checked the perimeter. He was going to go stir-crazy.
It was six in the evening. The sun would be going down soon, and Sean felt like they’d wasted the entire day. Half of it was flying time, and while Kane seemed to think the Romeros were the best lead, Sean didn’t like to be kept out of the loop. Of course he understood—he didn’t want to put Jesse’s life at risk because he was a Rogan. But dammit, Carson Spade did it! How could a man bring the boy he called his son into the drug trade?
Sean hadn’t had much time to sit and process his emotions, and they’d been churning inside making him physically ill.
He didn’t want to think about Jesse, or Madison lying to him, or what Carson Spade was really up to. Because then he started thinking about the future, and what he was going to tell Jesse, and how he could fight for joint custody—if he even had a leg to stand on. He could probably sue for a paternity test if Madison didn’t admit that Jesse was his. It was one thing to tell him, but it was another to admit to the world that you were a liar. As far as the legal system went, Sean had no rights. This was out of his area of expertise—but there had to be some way to force Madison to do the right thing.
But what if Jesse wanted nothing to do with him? What if he thought Sean hadn’t wanted him, or had just walked away from him and his mother? How could Sean convince a twelve-year-old boy that he would never turn his back on his son … but Jesse didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he would or would not do. As far as Sean knew, Jesse didn’t think about his real dad, didn’t care. He loved Madison and Carson as his parents, and Sean was going to walk in and wreck his perfect life.
But what was perfect about a father who was a criminal? A father who put his son in danger?
Sean opened his laptop to continue his research into the companies Carson Spade worked for—the so-called legitimate company and the illegitimate company. He also needed to dig deeper into Madison’s antiques business. A business like that was a great way to smuggle—or launder money.
He couldn’t concentrate. He really wanted to talk to Lucy.
The plane had a booster so he had cell reception. He dialed her cell phone.
“Sean?” Lucy answered. “Where are you?”
“Guadalajara. We think we tracked them down—I’m babysitting the plane while Kane talks to someone who may have information. I can’t get home soon enough. I miss you.”
Tell her, Sean. Just tell her about Jesse.
There was a muffled sound in the background. “Sorry,” Lucy said. “We’re leaving the morgue.”
“You’re with Noah or Siobhan?”
“Both.” She said something that he couldn’t make out. “Okay, I just needed to step away.”
“What happened? Why are you at the morgue?”
She didn’t say anything for a second, then her all-business, all-cop voice said, “One of the young women in the house Siobhan identified was found dead. She’d just given birth—an emergency C-section. We don’t know where, but we know it was late last night. She’d only been dead six to eight hours before her body was found.”
“Shit, Lucy—are you okay?” The situation was fucked, and he wasn’t there for her.
“It’s a mess. The Webb County sheriff’s department is working the case, they seem to be very competent. Noah and I are going to head back to San Antonio in a bit. We have one more thing to follow up on first.”
“How’s Siobhan?”
“As you would expect. Torn up, blames herself. The dead woman had preeclampsia, had a seizure.” Lucy paused, her voice lower. “The ME suspected that she seized and someone performed an emergency C-section to save the baby. Then they shot her in the back of the head. Dumped her with the garbage.” Her voice cracked.
Sean wanted to be there, right now, for Lucy.
“Say the word and I’ll come home.”
“I know you would, and I love you for it, but you need to find that little boy. I’m okay. Really.”
She didn’t sound okay.
“You said they took the baby?”
“The medical examiner believes the baby was about thirty-two weeks’ gestation. He would need medical care, but he could survive. Someone with medical training performed the C-section, so we’re guessing they could give the baby medical attention. But we don’t know if he would need a ventilator, or if they’re set up to run any tests. He would have been between three and four pounds.” She paused. “They could have brought her to the hospital. Saved her life. Preeclampsia is dangerous, but they could have saved her and the baby. They didn’t care—they only wanted the baby.”
“I’m so sorry, Lucy,” Sean said. “I’m going to be home as soon as I can. You shouldn’t have to be alone at night.”
“I’m okay. Really.”
She didn’t sound it.
“This situation with Jesse is a lot more complicated. It’s—” How did he tell her that Jesse was his son? How could he over the phone?
He heard voices in the background.
“Hold on, Sean,” she said.
Lucy, Jesse’s my son. I didn’t know until yesterday.
That sounded so lame.
Madison never told me she was pregnant when I left Stanford, she would never have told me except he’s in trouble. I should have told you yesterday …
Yes, Sean, you should have. Why didn�
�t you? Dammit, he couldn’t do it like this.
“Sean?” Lucy asked.
“I’m here.”
“I just got a message from NCMEC—I think we got a hit on one of the girls Siobhan photographed Sunday.”
“That’s good news.”
“I hope so. I’ll call you tonight, we can Skype, okay? I love you, Sean. Be safe.”
“I love you, too—” Sean began, but she’d already hung up.
Sean’s hands were so tight on his phone, he had to flex them several times before he had full mobility. Of all the cases for Lucy to work while he was out of town.
He needed to find Carson Spade and Jesse and bring both of them back to the States, and fast.
Sean continued his research with renewed energy for the next ten minutes, when his cell phone rang. It was Jaye, the research wizard at RCK.
“You have something,” he answered.
“Always. Do you even have to ask?”
“Good news?”
“Maybe. I got a hit on Carson Spade’s credit card. He’s at the Estadio Omnilife, a soccer stadium. Well, football. He used his card at the gift shop. Bought a couple of shirts, a regulation jersey, some other souvenirs.”
“He’s there now?”
“Yep. I checked, the game started at six o’clock your time. Should be going on for a couple of hours.”
“Any way you can find out where they’re sitting?”
“I’m good, but I’m not psychic. He didn’t buy the tickets with his credit card.”
“Are these tickets hard to come by?”
“I have no idea, but soccer—I mean football—is huge in Mexico. I’d imagine the tickets are popular.”
“I have a favor—I would do it, but I need to move. It’s going to take me nearly an hour to grab a vehicle and get to the stadium.”
“Ask.”
“Find out if Dante and Gabriella Romero have season tickets, or anyone in the Flores cartel. You should have the names of the family members somewhere in RCK files.”
“That might not be easy, or even possible. Unless—okay, I have a few ideas. I’ll text you if I get anything.”
“Thank you, Jaye. I owe you big time—again.”
“Just come back alive.”
“I plan on it.”
“I mean, back to RCK. Everyone misses you.”
Now was not the time to think about how and why he left RCK last year. “We’ll talk later,” he said and hung up.
Sean had already hid the plane, but he secured it and set up an alarm that would alert his phone. Not that it would enable him to get back in time, but he’d be prepared for company. He left a coded note for Kane in case his brother returned before he did.
You should wait for him.
No. he didn’t have time. But Kane would be livid. Still, this was a good idea. Sort of. Sean tried to reach Kane by secure phone as he walked toward the main road. No answer. Of course not. When he was working, he didn’t answer his damn phone. He sent him a message.
I have a lead on Jesse. I’ll be back in a few hours.
Assuming he could locate Jesse at this huge sporting event, he needed to convince his son to come with him. That might even be more difficult.
Madison.
That was it. He’d call Madison, have her talk to Jesse. Tell him to trust Sean. It would work.
It had to work.
* * *
Dante Romero was eating dinner with his woman of the week when Kane walked into his dining room.
Dante had the same worldly charm as Kane’s brother Liam. Attractive, smart, selfish, charismatic. It was no wonder that at one time, Dante and Liam had been the best of friends.
Without taking his eyes off of Kane, Dante addressed the exotic woman sitting across from him. “Darling, would you please leave us for a moment?”
“Of course,” she said. She stood gracefully and sauntered out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Dante motioned to the seat she’d vacated. “Sit.”
“I’ll stand.”
“Kane, we’re old friends. Family friends. You will sit, you will have a Scotch with me.”
Dante rose and walked over to the sideboard. He turned his back on Kane, which told him that he wasn’t concerned Kane had come here to kill him. There might come a day when Kane would put a bullet in Dante Romero, but it wasn’t today. He hoped it never came to that, because there were some things Kane liked about Dante. And the fact their fathers had been best friends.
Dante poured two glasses of Scotch and walked over to a small table in the corner framed by two comfortable leather chairs. Kane had sat here before, years ago, when they first negotiated their truce.
“Please, Kane. You can see every entrance from this corner.”
Kane crossed the room and sat. He took the Scotch, and Dante raised his glass. “Old friends.”
Kane nodded and they both drank until the glasses were empty.
“Did you kill my men?”
“No.”
“Good. They’re hard to find.”
“Look harder. They were easy to take down.”
“Who’s with you? Ranger? I heard he was still in South America.”
“I’m alone.”
“You don’t travel alone.” He paused. “Most of the time.”
“My pilot is with my plane. I need information.”
“Of course you do. It’s the only reason why you visit me.” He almost pouted, but there was a light in his eyes that reminded Kane that Dante loved this game. He lived for it.
“I don’t have time for the back-and-forth,” Kane said.
“You never do.”
Kane took out the surveillance photo of Gabriella and the three men, one of whom Kane knew to be Carson Spade. “Your sister stayed with this man”—he tapped the photo—“at an Acapulco resort for two nights. Then she left in a helicopter with him and someone else—an older man.”
“You know Gabriella—she’s fickle.”
Gabriella was anything but fickle, so Kane didn’t dignify Dante’s lie with a response. “Took me a while, but I traced the helicopter to Borho Enterprises, which we both know is a front for Herme Velasquez. But Herme doesn’t operate in this area, per his agreement with the Grande conglomerate, so I suspect he loaned the chopper to the Flores cartel. Herme’s niece married into the extended family.”
“I was at the wedding.”
“Their truce is still in effect. We both know how Gabriella feels about Samuel Flores.”
“Of course we do,” Dante said, obviously enjoying this conversation. “She wouldn’t be in business with them. I take our agreement very seriously.”
“Not business. She would, however, go inside in order to assassinate him. I think her boyfriend here is the youngest brother.”
“My sweet sister.” Dante smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You can’t stop her from taking his blood, enacting vengeance. First, you have done the same when it matters to you. And even if you wanted to stop her, you can’t. Not this time. Not for this cause.”
“I told Gabriella years ago to let me take him down, and she refused. Her games are going to get you both killed, but they are her games. I’m not here to stop her.”
“A good revenge plot takes time. Preparation is half the satisfaction.”
“I don’t want to get involved in that. I need to find this man.” He pointed to Carson Spade.
“I don’t know him.”
“You’re lying.”
Dante leaned back, his jaw tight. “You come into my home, for information about my sister, and accuse me of lying.”
“His name is Carson Spade. He brought his son with him, then disappeared. The son’s mother hired RCK to bring her son home. I don’t care about Spade. I want the boy. I am prepared to extract him quietly.”
Dante assessed what he said. He didn’t relax, but there was a slight shift in his posture. He was contemplating the situation, running over all the facts, and most certainly try
ing to figure out what Kane was keeping from him. Kane maintained his poker face.
Dante sipped his Scotch. “I don’t know Spade, but I know that Flores and his people are on high alert. I do not know why; I do not involve myself in their business out of respect for my sister. If Spade and his son are on their compound, even you won’t be able to extract him. Dear friend, you are very good at what you do, but deep down you still have a conscience. That is the only thing that separates you from them.”
“I am here to get the boy.”
“And I am telling you, it is impossible. You will not penetrate his compound.”
“I can if you give me intel on his security.”
Dante leaned forward, all humor gone. “I can’t, and even if I could, I won’t. I will not risk Gabriella’s safety for anyone. She is there to do a job, one she has been planning for years. I want her out alive, and that means no mavericks. Any hint that you are here, they will triple security.” He stood and walked back to the table. He sat down to resume his dinner.
Kane could see by the tension in Dante’s body that he was angry—whether at Kane or Flores, he wasn’t certain. He rose, walked back to the entrance. Then he turned around.
“Gabriella is in over her head,” Kane said. “There’s no love lost between us, but I know you care for her. I would have taken care of Flores for her. I know what he did.”
Dante slowly lowered his fork. He turned to Kane. “You and I are opposite sides of the same coin, Kane. We fight our own wars. You fight yours. And I sincerely hope we never have to battle each other.”
He turned back to his food. “I pressed the panic button two minutes ago. You have about ninety seconds to disappear or I’ll turn you in for the bounty on your head.”
“What bounty?”
He laughed. “There are so many, old friend, I’ll probably sell you to the highest bidder.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
As soon as they started on the road back to San Antonio, Noah got on the phone. Lucy blocked out his conversation and checked her own email. First thing she opened was an email from her contact at NCMEC. She’d sent him the photos Siobhan had taken of the blond girl with the infant leaving the house in rural Freer on Sunday evening. He’d identified her.