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A number flashed up on the neon sign. Then another. Then another. The bidding soon surpassed a million dollars and stopped at 1.3 million.
A buzzer sounded, and the girl was led away.
Dusty thought he saw the white shadow of the sheik stand and the light from the open door behind him shine, casting him in shadowed profile as he exited his room. He had to be the winning bid.
The second girl was led out, and the entire procedure started over. The redhead was more of a fighter, and the goon soon had his hand clamped over her mouth to muffle her screams.
The bidders seemed to like her fight as reflected in the flurry of bids that flashed across the sign.
The bidding ended, and she was led off.
The Asian girl was led out next. She went for over two million, and Dusty watched the shadowy figure of the man puffing on the cigar stand and exit his room.
Dusty’s stomach tightened. Asia would be next. If he was outbid, he didn’t know what he would do. He was locked in this room. He had only 1.6 million in his fake account. If the bidding went higher, he couldn’t counter it.
The silver-haired woman raised her microphone.
“I must inform you we’ve had a last-minute change to our last offering. Another blonde was brought out, and Dusty ran a hand down his jaw, leaning forward. It wasn’t Asia.
Where the hell is she?
“Miss Asia will be moved to next month’s event. Tonight, her replacement is Kelly from Atlanta, Georgia. She’s quite a peach with a sexy southern accent to match.”
The bidding began as they stripped her of her sheer wrap. All Dusty could think about was what could have happened to Asia.
The bidding ended at 1.8 million.
Once it was over, a man entered his room. It was the same man who’d escorted him inside.
“Mr. Amorosi noticed you didn’t make a bid tonight, Mr. Rideout.”
“I was interested in the brunette, but she was replaced. Blondes aren’t my thing. I’d like to return. The woman said she’d be offered next month.”
“I see. I will relay to Mr. Amorosi your interest in our next event. There is a waiting list, but perhaps he will make an exception under the circumstances. He does like to keep his clients satisfied.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll show you to your car.”
Dusty followed him out. He noticed they did not go the way of the loading dock, as the winning bidders had gone, but instead, back out through the front entrance.
Within minutes, he was at the airport.
Chris and Grady exited the plane, looking quite the part in their flight crew uniforms and caps.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Rideout.” Chris glanced toward the car, but gave nothing away as Dusty boarded alone.
No one spoke until the hatch was pulled up and secured.
“What the hell happened?” Chris asked.
“She wasn’t in the auction. They had her in the brochure they gave out, but at the last minute, they switched another girl into her spot. Where the hell is she?”
“Sit down and let’s get airborne. Maybe the feds can tell us something. They’ve had all his locations under surveillance.”
Dusty collapsed in his seat and buckled up. The lights of the airport flashed by as Al taxied toward the runway. Soon, they were airborne. Dusty looked at the lights of Freeport, wondering if he was leaving Asia behind down there.
CHAPTER EIGHT
