Dorian woke in bed with sunlight streaming through the privacy-shielded window. It took her a moment to orient herself, then she realized she must have fallen asleep on the couch downstairs with Sebastian reading. And he must have carried her up to bed.
The idea felt odd and oddly … nice.
Why couldn’t someone like him have been her father? Did she even have a father? It didn’t feel like it, or how come she ended up hurt and hiding?
Why couldn’t someone like Sebastian have taken her away from all the crap and into the nice?
Because things didn’t work that way, she decided. Maybe she didn’t remember lots of stuff, but she remembered that. Never had, never would work like that.
Not for somebody like her.
Still, she lay there a few minutes fantasizing about it. She couldn’t remember if she’d ever lain around in bed before on a sunny morning.
Get your lazy ass up!
She heard the voice clearly inside her head. A woman’s voice, harsh and raspy. Mother? Yeah, yeah, mother, because the face started to come clear, too.
She didn’t want to hear it, see it, so she just blocked it out.
Because she could stay here now, Sebastian said so, and nobody seemed to care if she remained in bed awhile in the morning. He could be—sort of—her father, couldn’t he? As long as she stayed.
So she lay there for a bit and took inventory. Her head didn’t hurt or feel wrong anymore. Her ankle felt sore, but not as bad. Same with her knee.
Maybe they felt a little twingy when she got up, but she could walk okay. Nobody had said she couldn’t take a shower, and she wanted one. She had the little bag—toothbrush and stuff—Mouser had brought her, so she went to the bathroom she shared with Chi-Chi and some other kids.
It felt so good to wash, to put on clean clothes, even if the pants were a little too big and a little too short.
Hungry, she started downstairs. She could hear people talking, hear at least somebody playing a game. She thought she’d get something to eat and see what chores she had to do.
She’d be happy to do them—if she did her chores, didn’t bitch and whine, she could stay. Stay with Sebastian and Mouser, and all the other kids. She’d always have somebody to talk to, to hang out with.
Then, when she did whatever Sebastian said, maybe Mouser or Chi-Chi or somebody wanted to go out for a while. She wanted to see the city.
She had little flashes of it—icy cold, lots of lights and people—and wanted to see if she made them up or remembered something.
Maybe she didn’t want to remember the woman with the angry voice, or why she’d had to hide in the dark, but this was different.
She liked having her name—Dorian—and she liked being here. She felt sure she liked being in New York even though that was blurry and cold.
She saw Sebastian in the family room, just like the night before, but today he talked to one of the kids—a girl, maybe a little younger than she was—while he scooted three little red bowls around a table.
“Keep your eye on the shiny silver ball, Bets, while we go round and round. Find the ball, win five dollars.”
Then he stopped. “Where’s the ball?”
She tapped, decisively, on the middle bowl. But when he lifted it, no ball.
“But I know it was there. I watched really close.”
“Hand’s quicker than the eye.” And he held out a hand with the silver ball in the palm.
“But I saw you put it under the bowl.”
“You thought you saw because I told you to see it.” Idly, he shifted the bowls around the table. “You have to be very quick and smooth in the old shell game.” He smiled at her. “Oops, where’s the ball?”
“In your other hand.”
He held both out, empty, then lifted the left bowl to reveal it.
“But—how did you do it? Can you teach me?”
“I am.” He spotted Dorian. “Practice awhile. You have the hands for it.”
He rose. “Good morning. I bet you’re hungry.”
“I could really eat.”
“Let’s see about that.”
They had a communal kitchen with a big table, and a bigger table in the room right next to it. She knew the rules already. Everybody took care of their own dishes. If you ate the last of something, you had to tell the one in charge that week. It rotated.
“I’ll take care of your breakfast this morning.”
Like a dad, she thought, and yearned. “You don’t have to.”
“You get one more day’s grace,” he told her. “How about an egg pocket, and it looks like someone foraged in the great city woods and found some berries.”
“That’s chill. Is Mouser around? I thought maybe we could go out today. I feel a lot better.”
“That’s good.” As he programmed what looked like an ancient AutoChef, he glanced around. “Give us the kitchen for now, Howl.”
When Howl, a gangly sixteen with a mop of hair falling over his eyes, shrugged and slumped off, Dorian said, “I don’t mind if he’s here while I eat.”
“I’d like to have the time and space to talk to you for now.”
At the table, she gripped her hands together in her lap. “Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry! Don’t make me go. I can—”
“Dorian, you did nothing wrong, and no one will make you go anywhere.” He set the egg pocket in front of her, and the berries, then something pretending to be orange juice.
“You said you trusted me.” He programmed coffee for himself, or what came as close to coffee as they could manage.
“I do. I really do.”
“Eat some of that now. Did you sleep better the rest of the night?”
“I didn’t dream at all after. I want to do chores, like you said.”
“We’ll get to all that. Doc said your ankle would be sore.”
“A little, but it’s not bad. I wrapped it again like he said after I took a shower, and I can walk on it without it hurting.”
“Young bones.” He smiled at her. “No headaches, dizziness?”
She began to relax and eat as she decided he just wanted to check on how she felt.
“Uh-uh. I want to go out and walk around, see if I remember anything, you know?”
Watching her, he sipped some coffee. “You haven’t remembered anything more?”
“Not exactly.”
He nodded, then took a ’link out of his pocket. “I want you to look at something. Someone. And tell me—you’ll be honest because we trust each other—if you remember her.”
“Okay, but I don’t think I really know anybody except you guys.”
Her first thought when she looked at the screen was she liked the girl’s hair, all bright and red. And then …
Her heart began to bang, and her skin went ice-cold. For a minute—it seemed like forever—she couldn’t breathe, only gasp for air that wouldn’t come.
It all fell onto her, a collapsed building hurtling down with bricks and steel and jagged glass rushing to bury her. From a distance, she heard a voice, but just kept shaking her head.
“No, no, no, no.”
“Dorian, you’re safe. Dorian, no one’s going to hurt you. Look at me now, just look at me.” Sebastian had a grip on her arms, kept talking as he leveled down to draw her wide, shocked eyes to his.
The panic attack ripped, turning her face sickly gray, racking her with shudders.
“You need to breathe in, breathe out.”
“Can’t.”
“Yes, you can. Look at me, look right at me and breathe, nice and slow. There you go now, that’s the way. In and out. You’re safe. I’m right here with you.” He flicked a warning glance at one of the kids who started to wander in—and sent her scuttling away again.
“Good girl. You’re all right. Everything’s going to be all right.”
He watched the first tear slide down her cheek and considered it an improvement over the wild-eyed shock.
“I’m going to get you some water. I’m just going right there and getting you some water.”
“I remember. I remember.”
“Yes, I can see that. Just sit, sit and breathe.”
As he got the water, he cursed himself. Had he gone too fast? Should he have given her more time? And what in God’s name would he do if this child was somehow responsible or complicit in the death of another child?
He brought her the water, sat, looked at her face. And simply couldn’t believe it. Yes, even children were capable of killing, he certainly knew that to be tragically true.
But not this one. Not this one with the desperate eyes shedding mournful tears.
“Can you tell me what you remember?”
“Mina.” Her hand shook as she lifted the glass, so she gripped it with both. “Mina. I forgot.”
“What happened to Mina?”
“She got away. Did she get away? She ran, she ran so they wouldn’t find me. In the rain. I fell, I fell, I hurt my leg, my ankle. I fell, I fell, and she ran so they’d run after her. We got out, we got out, but they were coming, and I fell. Did she get away?” She put the glass down with a rattle, grabbed his arm. “Is she here? Is Mina here, like me?”
“No, she’s not here. You and Mina got out? Of what? Of where?”
“Of the Academy.” Tears flooded now, and she laid her head on the table, racked by them. “Oh God, oh God, I remember.”
She told him pieces and in fits and starts. He clamped down on his outrage, knowing if he let it come, he’d only frighten her.
Finally, she knuckled at her swollen eyes, and those eyes pleaded with him. “Can you find her? Can you help me find her? She’s going to call her parents. She said they’d come.”
He stroked her hair. “You need to be strong. It’s so much to ask after all you’ve been through. But you’ve already shown you’re strong. I’m so sorry, Dorian. Mina didn’t get away.”
“They caught her? No, no, we got out, and if they took her back…” Her face went blank, and those pleading eyes blank.
His felt his heart break as he watched something inside her die.
“She’s dead, isn’t she? They killed her. Those fucking bastards killed her. She ran so they didn’t catch me, and they killed her. I couldn’t run, and now she’s dead.”
“I’m sorry, more than I can say. None of this is your fault.”
“I fell and couldn’t run.” Life came back to her face, but it was hard, and it was bitter. “She helped me, and nobody ever did. Now she’s dead.”
“She was brave and thought of you. You have to honor her, and the first way is to put the blame where it belongs. On the people who hurt her, and you, and all the others.”
“I want to kill them.”
“I find it hard to blame you for it. Do you trust me?”
“Will you help me kill them?”
Looking into those young, bitter eyes, he sat back. “I can’t do that. As much as I understand, I can’t take a life, even a vile one. I have others here who trust me, who need this safe place because they’ve been hurt or betrayed or abandoned. But I have another way, another way you can honor Mina, and make them pay for what they’ve done, what they’re doing.”
“Pay how?”
“By losing everything but their lives. And that’s a deeper punishment. Losing everything and having to live with the nothing. You can help take it from them, take their freedom like they took yours.”
He took her hand again, leaned toward her. “I know someone who can help do that.”
“You.”
“In my way, but someone else.” He tried a little smile. “Do you know who Mavis Freestone is?”
“Yeah, who doesn’t? She’s pretty mag, I guess. I couldn’t listen to music at home, but I stole some buds so she wouldn’t hear, and I listened to her sometimes.”
“She’s a friend of mine.”
Some of the young girl eked back. “Step out. She’s like a total celeb, and way rich and all of it.”
“She wasn’t always. Once she was like you, like the family here. A girl who needed a safe place.”
“Serious? No bull? She stayed here?”
“Not in this place. I didn’t have it then, but in another.”
“But she’s … somebody.”
“So are we all.”
“Even if, how’s she going to help make them all pay? She’s a singer.”
“She has a friend, a very good friend, who’s police.”
Dorian snatched her hand away. “Cops. Fuck that, fuck them. They’ll ship me back to Freehell, or toss me in juvie again, and I’m not ever—”
“Hear me out. We listen to each other here, Dorian, so listen to me now. I’m going to promise you not to do anything, talk to anyone unless you agree. That’s first. I promise you.”
“I’m not going to agree, so forget it. I’ll leave first and take my chances.”
“They’re looking for you, Dorian, these evil people, and the police.”
“Because of Mina? They don’t think I—”
“I said you’re safe here. And if you choose, I’ll get you money and find a way to get you out of New York. But if you choose that, they will never pay, and never stop. Never pay for Mina, never stop hurting all the other girls.”
He put a hand on her cheek, gently, and felt relief when she didn’t jerk away.
“It’s too much, too terribly much to put on your shoulders, but that’s the reality of it. Before you choose, I’m asking you to hear me out.”
“I’m not going to the cops.” She folded her arms. “But whatever.”
“I’m going to tell you how I met this cop. Lieutenant Eve Dallas. And why her friend and mine, Mavis, brought us together. There were girls,” he began, “like you and Mina, years ago. Someone hurt them, killed them, and hid their bodies behind a wall. One day, not very many months ago, a man broke down that wall because he wanted to build something new, something good, and those young girls, what remained of them, were found.”
At Central, Eve paced the conference room.
She’d put most of the morning into looking for ways to cut down the number of properties on Roarke’s list. The problem remained he’d done too damn good a job doing that already.
It left her with far too many that could fit what she envisioned. And worse, her vision might be off.
Frustrated, she’d switched to potential victims, and began scouring files looking for that one tiny, overlooked mistake.
Now she paced. She’d find the mistake, she’d damn well find it. She’d only been through six files so far. The fact that she hadn’t found it there didn’t mean she wouldn’t find it in any of the others.
She’d rather be out on the street, doing something that felt like action, like progress. But the simple fact remained on this one, the action and progress lived in files.
More coffee, she decided. She just needed more coffee.
She heard Peabody coming seconds before she caught the scent. She turned to see her partner carrying in two plates.
“You got pizza?”
“One pepperoni, one veggie—the veggie’s my excuse to have pizza. Out of your office AC. And the only reason I got out of the bullpen alive with it is everybody knows what we’re working on.”
She set them on the conference table. “We gotta eat, Dallas. Roarke told EDD he’d be in soon, and he’d push you to eat anyway. Probably not pizza.”
Peabody had a point. And a check of the time told her morning had somehow become two in the afternoon.
Peabody pulled a tube of Pepsi out of one pocket, one of Diet out of the other.
“Time’s slipping away.” Frustrated, Eve cracked the tube and drank. “One way or the other, I’ve got to call the feds in tomorrow. Hell, maybe that’s best. Either I’m not seeing something, or it’s just not there.”
“We’ve hit a little wall. We’ll push over it.”
Thinking of that, Eve mentally shifted back to locations. “I’m going to have Uniform Carmichael put together a team. They can start paying the properties a visit. Just need a bullshit excuse. Community outreach should work. Just get in and sniff around. Going in knowing the possibility it’s a front, you might just smell something off.”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
Peabody sat, took a slice.
Giving up, Eve did the same.
“I’m wondering if some of the abductions come from scouts that root in a certain area. Service people, repair people, delivery people. Fucking cops—and I hate that one, but we have to let it in. People get used to seeing them, don’t look twice.”
“Plumbers,” Peabody speculated, “IT people, handymen who cover an area, or even if they don’t, people don’t usually look twice at a work truck or van driving through the neighborhood.”
The pizza hit the empty places in exactly the right way.
“Maybe you live in a neighborhood and take a kid from it,” Eve considered. “Get the kid, drive off, travel to a pickup location, or all the way to the target area.”
“The business there would have to be a front, too,” Peabody pointed out, “or most likely, for that to work.”
“Yeah, but if it’s connected with the front here, say the outlet where they make the underwear, the uniforms. It feels smart, and this is a smart operation. You wouldn’t pick up a kid every day, or even every week. You go about your business, pick the kid, and have all the time you need to watch until you hit at the right time. Street kids—the Dorian type—that’s a different system.”
Pizza, Eve thought as she ate, answered almost all needs.
“Let’s try this. Plumbers, like you said—so we look for a big operation here with our probabilities. Plumbing supplies, commercial plumbing operation. Same with IT. General repairs, I’m not sure what you attach that to, but we’ll find it. The sewing, tailoring operation. Delivery services—plenty of big operations for that. Utility shit. You know, solar installation and repair. It’s an angle.”
“I’ll tell McNab to plug it in, too. The more, the better. I’ve got more kids, Dallas. I started on open cases where the girl didn’t hit that physical beauty level. I found seventeen more, so far, from six to sixteen, that fit the abduction pattern. I’m going to put them in the categories—ages, good neighborhoods, runaways—but I needed the break.”
“Seventeen. I’m going to get Carmichael started, and hell, maybe I’ll tug on Teasdale today. We’ve got the cracks, but we’re not widening them.”
She took a second slice. “We should’ve had a solid sighting of Dorian Gregg by now if she stayed in the city, if she went back to her former territory. She’s either gone, they grabbed her back, or she’s dead somewhere.”
“Gone’s most likely,” Peabody commented. “She had a window before we ID’d her blood. She climbed out and booked. We could get lucky, and she’ll get picked up somewhere.”
“No relying on luck there.”
She thought of herself at eight, and how terrified she’d have been if she’d ended up with federal agents surrounding her. But it was coming down to the wire on no choice there.
She pulled out her communicator, contacted Officer Carmichael, gave him the assignment, sent him the necessary data.
That, at least, felt like action, however weak.
She looked over as Willowby came in.
“Hey, thought I’d bop down from EDD and fill you in.”
She’d dressed for EDD, Eve thought, in a rainbow shirt and neon-green bibbed baggies. And bopped over on pink low-top air kicks.
“That pizza is not Vending crap.”
Eve waved a hand at it. “Go ahead.”
“Either one,” Peabody told her. “Or both.”
“Veggie pizza’s the only way veggies go down easy. I’ll take a slice of both.” She sat on the table, laid one slice over the other, and bit in. “So, your man’s up there now,” she told Eve. “Sizzle.” She gave a little shiver. “If you don’t mind me saying.”
“You already did.”
“I got a weakness for the sizzle, and the smarts. I don’t care what chromosomes somebody’s got, I just go for sizzle or smarts. Somebody’s got both? I’m a goner. He sure has both. Anyway.”
She paused to take another bite.
“He’s working with the e-geeks on this op, and I’m going to say, it could work. It’ll take some doing, and some damn good cover. It’s pretty late in the game for this auction, but you do get some buyers who don’t move in until late in the game.”
She looked at the board, at the faces as she ate. “If we do it right, pull it off, it could work for some of them.”
“Did you get any sleep, Willowby?”
“Zonked a few z’s. Pizza’s better than the z’s. We’re down to two days and change. I’ll sleep after.” Then she gestured to the board. “Some of the girls you’ve got up there are starting to pop up in more previews. If it goes the way I think, full sales kits go online by this time tomorrow. You’ve added some of the Kiddies.”
“Yeah, they fit the abduction pattern.”
“Fuckers. I want to take them down as much as you. The thing is, however slick, however major this organization is, there are others. The op up in EDD? Maybe, just maybe, we take down a few more.”
“How many you figure?” Eve asked her.
“On this scale?” Willowby shook her head. “Not many, but you’ll have smaller organizations, maybe holding three or four to put up for an auction like this. A few more that specialize, and likely import rather than snatch. The Brutes—just my term for it—the ones who use and abuse, then sell off—more of those, but they’d need good financing to participate in this level of auction. The entry fee’s half a mil, and that’s just to get in to sell. Then twenty percent of the sale price goes to the auction.”
“Seems like busting that wide would be a good move.”
“Doesn’t it just? Maybe this’ll give us a shot at it. It’d be a hell of a thing, wouldn’t it, if these two kids blow it all down.
“No trace of her yet? Dorian Gregg?”
“No. We’re hitting on the kooks and the overeagers, but nothing that’s panned out. I’m calling in the feds, tomorrow latest.”
“Shit, figured that was coming.” She ate more pizza. “I hate to see them horn in on what we’re starting up in EDD. We’re going to do it clean,” she added. “No way we’re going to let any of these bastards slide out on technicalities. But feds can be harsh on a little wiggle.”
“I can’t hold it off longer than that. Right now, I’m not sure I should.”
“I hear you. Whatever it takes. I’m going back to the circus. Thanks for the pizza. Most mag-o.”
As she pushed off the table, Trueheart, the earnest, tapped on the doorjamb.
“Sorry, Lieutenant.”
Even as he spoke, Willowby turned back to Eve, widened her eyes, tapped her hand on her heart.
“Detective?”
“Mavis is here. I didn’t want to send her back without getting your go.”
“She got the kid with her?”
“No, sir.”
“You can send her back.”
“He’s so cute!” Willowby said when he went out again. “Got the cute sizzles. Got brains?”
“He’s a solid cop, a good detective. Tamp it down some, Willowby.”
“Just saying. Not married or anything, is he?”
“He’s not,” Peabody filled in when Eve just closed her eyes. “But he’s just off a relationship. She took a job in East Washington. He’s really sweet.”
“I like sweet, especially with cute sizzles. I’m in a serious dry spell, you know? Maybe after we bust these bastards, I can— Holy shit!”
Mavis stepped in on purple sneaks, pink skin pants, and a purple shirt that clung to her little baby bump and sported a pink arrow pointing to it that read: GUESS WHO?
Her hair was a curling mass of both colors.
She would, Eve thought, have fit in very well in EDD.
Willowby actually squealed. “Mavis Freestone. Holy shit. I’m a mega fan.”
Mavis put on the high beams, but Eve knew her.
Something’s up, she thought. Something’s off.
“Thanks! Great to meet you.”
“Willowby. Zela Willowby. I hit your concert on Fire Island. Man, it was beyond. And the vid you just released, backed by Avenue A, dueting with Jake Kincade? Frosted supreme.
“I’m babbling. Sorry.”
“Hear me complaining? Juices me to hear somebody likes my music.”
“Love it. This is a moment for me. Anyway, gotta go before I drool or something. Jesus,” she said as she headed out. “Two sizzles and a Freestone. What a day.”
“Okay.” Mavis let out a breath, and the high beams dimmed. “Can I shut this door?”
“Yeah. Is Bella okay, Leonardo?”
“Yeah, yeah, all totally.”
“Then come sit down and tell me what the fuck. I can see it all over you.”
“I’m going to.”
“Want some tea or something?” Peabody asked her.
“No, I’m good. All good.” She crossed over but stood looking at the board. “So many,” she said quietly. She pressed a hand protectively over the child inside her, then sat. “I need you to hear me all the way out, and not get pissed.”
“Why would I get pissed?”
“I just need you to listen all the way. You’re looking for one of those girls, especially. Dorian Gregg.”
“That’s right. What do you know?”
“If you listen all the way, and don’t get pissed, I can get her to come to the house, where you can talk to her.”
Eve struggled not to lurch up and shout. “You know where she is?”
“No, but I can do what I said if you listen, don’t get pissed.”
“I need to know where she is, Mavis.”
The hand rubbing circles over the baby bump went into high speed. “You’re already pissed. I know what all this means to you, and you know what it all means to me. I know you want to know where she is to keep her safe, and to find a way to help all those girls.”
Her voice broke as she looked at the board again.
“Please, let me help that happen. I had to give my word to get this far. Solemn promise mode—most solemn. I’m going to have to ask you and Peabody to give yours to get more. But I can help, if you hear me all the way.”
“I’m listening.”
“Sebastian tagged me. She’s with him.”