This is what Alice meant when she said they had a big payout to collect. Rimi won’t stop at one ransom. He’ll continue demanding money until Melody’s fiancé stops handing over the funds, then he’ll kidnap her for real. Guaranteed. It’s how I would handle this if it were my operation.
I think all my Christmases have come at once when Henry mutters, “If this information is legitimate, what do you want for it?”
Being owed a favor by Henry is priceless in this industry. You can’t put a dollar amount on it. However, I can, because there’s something I want a shit ton more than money.
I want my girls back, and right here, right now, it feels as if my wish is about to come true.
Good things take time.
Bad things bring justice.
With Henry’s help, I’m about to serve Rimi Castro a little bit of both.
20
Roxanne
“Does it have any charge?” I ask Audrey while peering at the cell phone she snuck in our room in the middle of the night.
I’ve been dying to see what she had up her sleeve for the past sixteen-plus hours, but with the man the women call ‘Maestro’ popping in and out of our room all day and night, now is the first chance I’ve had to speak to Audrey without an audience.
The women still watch us from afar, unmoved by my speech yesterday that an army has never won a war with only one soldier. They don’t trust Audrey, and nothing I say will alter their opinion about that.
I can’t say I blame them. If Audrey has had access to this device the entire time, why the hell didn’t she use it to seek help?
My heart drums against my ribcage when Audrey nods. Its frantic wallops double when she slips the device out of my hand, fires it up, then shoves it back into my lap. Her hands are jittery like she’s panicked out of her mind we’re about to be killed.
If we’re caught with this device, I’m confident we will be.
After gulping down a quick breath to settle my nerves, I log into her phone. It isn’t one of those state-of-the-art ones with apps and gimmicks. It’s retro, funky, and only has ten percent charge remaining.Fuck it!
Needing to hurry, I push out a little abruptly. “Where are your contacts?”
Audrey peers at me with her big eyes out in full force but remains as quiet as a church mouse.
“So I can look up Dimitri’s number,” I hurry her along.
Shock blankets Audrey’s usually pretty face. “You don’t know it?”
Her question shouldn’t jab my heart with tiny knives, but it does. I don’t even know the address of the compound I was held captive in, much less Dimitri’s cell phone number. We didn’t have that type of relationship. It was more fired by sexual attraction than communication, but since I can’t tell Dimitri’s wife that, I shrug instead.
Audrey does a quick sweep of the room to ensure we’re without eyes before logging into the text message section of her phone. Dimitri’s texts were the only ones received by this phone, so his number is easily distinguishable.
While endeavoring to work out how I can explain to Dimitri that his wife is still alive, I try not to look too deeply into how impersonal his messages to Audrey were during their marriage. They’re stern and to the point like he was communicating with a member of his staff instead of his other half.
“Type something,” I grumble to myself a short time later, frustrated I’m more concerned about how Dimitri will react to discovering Audrey is alive than getting out of the situation that caused the miscarriage of my child.
My hands shake as I type out a string of text. It’s more a business-like contact for Smith to decipher than an attempt to clutch to the final hours I can pretend Dimitri is mine. I’d rather do that face to face than via the phone his wife owns.
Me:Tracker disabled. Ruse still in effect. Send help to this location.Battery low. Act quickly.Roxie xx
With the tiny gray device swamped by my hands, I move to the window I was peering out of earlier today before snapping a snapshot of the landscape. Although there isn’t much to go off, I’m hopeful the preparation of the crops surrounding us will give Smith some clues to work with. It was amazing what he unearthed by looking at nothing but the satellite images of my grandparents’ estate. If he can do that again here, we may be found sooner rather than later.
“Jesus.”
I almost die a thousand deaths when Audrey’s cell phone suddenly lets out a loud alert. I have no clue how to silence it, so I clench it with everything I have, hopeful my squeeze will suffocate its squeals without damaging it.
With my pulse beeping in my neck, and my eyes wide, I stray them to the door I’m anticipating for Maestro to shoot through at any moment.
