Page 8

CHAPTER 8

A meeting room in Knoxville at the same time

“Do you want those girls or not?” Bogdan asked. “I can find others who want them, others who will not make such mistakes as not telling me about David Phillips.”

“I apologize,” Samuels, his Cadre contact said smoothly. “A mistake on the part of someone new to the organization. It will not happen again.”

“I would have preferred to do that myself,” Bogdan told him. At least Samuels was high in the ranks of The Cadre and not like that little pissant Kraft. Bogdan had no doubt that Samuels was not the man’s real name. No matter. In businesses such as his, secrecy was often required. As long they were honest with Bogdan and paid him what he was due, they could call themselves anything they liked.

“I think we may have a way of compensating you for your trouble,” Samuels said, taking several stacks of money from the desk drawer and sliding them forward. “Payment for killing the Taylors this morning. It was only a matter of time before they talked to the police.”

“More money is always acceptable,” Bogdan replied, picking up one of the stacks and thumbing through it. Smart of The Cadre to recognize he needed to be compensated. “What else?”

“There is an organization that has caused problems for The Cadre since we arrived in East Tennessee earlier this year,” Samuels said. “They call themselves Brotherhood Protectors, largely made up of ex-military men and women who hire out their services for those who are in danger. It is likely that one of them will be hired to protect Suzanne Bennett, and even David Phillips when he is found.”

“And you want me to kill him as well as Suzanne Bennett?” Bogdan asked. He had no intention of sharing with The Cadre his own plans for David Phillips. That would make up for the earlier disrespect.

“Yes,” Samuels said simply. He turned to the silent masked man beside him. “Is there anything you wish to ask?”

“No,” the man said after a moment. “Just that I am hearing from more clients every day about the purchase of the girls you’ve provided. Can you possibly acquire more at this late date?”

“Perhaps,” Bogdan said. “But that will also cost.”

Both men nodded and Samuels said, “I will send you a dossier on the Brotherhood Protector when I have confirmed his identity. There will be no more mistakes, I assure you.”

“There better not be,” Bogdan warned, staring at the silent man. Only a coward would wear a mask to such a meeting. “I will be waiting for your information.”

He gathered the money and stuffed it into his coat’s inner pockets before leaving the room without saying goodbye. After the door closed, the other man asked, “Just how dangerous is he?”

“Very,” Samuels said. “If this gets fucked up again, he’ll kill us without mercy and vanish before we get to enjoy what we’ve worked so hard to make happen. Be careful who you send to deal with him.”

“Then we’ll just have to kill him after he delivers the merchandise,” the man said removing his mask. “You can do that, can’t you?”

Samuels smiled. “To paraphrase our greedy friend, for a price.”

“You’ll have the first pick of the girls?” the man offered.

Samuels smiled. “That will do.”

And they shook hands in silent agreement.

“Are you crazy? Absolutely not!” Grant Miller’s shout came through the phone’s speaker loud and clear at Suzanne wanting to talk to Mercy’s neighbors. He’d been annoyed enough at her not telling him about what Mercy had shared with her about the Campbell sisters and their claim, but her request had clearly infuriated him.

“You are not going door-to-door in Mercy’s neighborhood asking questions, is that clear?” Miller lowered his voice, but his biting diction proved his anger was still volatile. “That is an order.”

“But I’ve met some of her neighbors–” Suzanne started, but one look at Miller’s expression on the screen shut her up.

“I don’t care,” Miller retorted. “You were targeted in your own home last night, Suzanne. Someone followed you as soon as you left Mercy’s house. It’s nothing short of a miracle you weren’t killed. You can look for Mercy’s address book, but that’s it.”

“How likely is it the killers are still hanging around?” Suzanne persisted. “That wouldn’t be very smart.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Miller said. “I’m not taking a chance of you being seen. Besides, my guys have just finished talking to Mercy Phillips neighbors and they all deny knowing anything.”

“If one of the neighbors comes to the house while we’re there, could she talk to them?” Kristopher asked. “Your men would be there, so it would be safe enough, right?”

“No,” Miller said firmly. “Officer Jackson is going to wait for you. And it’s the job of KPD to interview people, not yours, Suzanne. I’ll give you an hour to search through the house, but then Sergeant Brower, I expect you to take her back to whatever safehouse you’re using and keep her there.” It was obvious that he was not going to give in an inch.

“I’ve met one or two of Mercy’s neighbors at block parties,” Suzanne continued her plea. “If they know anything they might be more willing to talk to me because they know me.”

“The answer is still no.” Miller’s tone could have sliced through steel.

“Did you find her laptop?” Suzanne asked. “She usually kept it on her office desk.”

“I’m sorry to say like her phone, it was destroyed,” Miller said. “Do you think there was something work-related on it?”

“No,” Suzanne said. “Just a thought.”

“Okay. You have an hour,” Miller repeated. “Got it?”

“Absolutely,” Kristopher said, trying not to look at the very frustrated woman beside him.

“Okay,” Miller repeated. His gaze seemed to target Kristopher. “Have you told her we worked together? That you were with KPD?”

“I did,” Kristopher acknowledged. “We’re good there. We’ll contact you if we find something. Talk to you later.”

He ended the call and glanced at Suzanne. “You okay there, Miz Bennett?”

“Was he that stubborn when you worked with him in the past?” she huffed.

“He could be,” Kristopher said. The anger on her face did not make her any less pretty and Kristopher wondered what she might look like when she was really angry or in the throes of passion. Hell’s bells, Brower! You just met her! Get your mind out from between the bed sheets! You’re here to protect her, nothing more.

“But he’s fully invested in helping Brotherhood Protectors when we’re on the job,” Kristopher assured. “He cares a lot about keeping kids safe and stopping or at least slowing down The Cadre. Did Elaine tell you about Tennessee Task Force?”

“She did,” Suzanne said, and he watched some of the anger fade from her face. “It sounds like a great organization. And it makes sense, all the agencies, including law enforcement joining together to find and rescue missing and trafficked kids. My work is placing underemployed or disabled adults in employment situations, and I have almost no professional experience with kids.”

“I’d like to hear about that later,” he said. “Maybe over lunch?”

“Sure thing,” she agreed. Let’s go help Officer Jackson.” She sighed and added, “For now that’s going to have to be enough.”