Page 12

12

Lyon

After three uneventful days at home—Cyclone still slept—I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. I tried calling Niki, but there was no answer. With worry mounting, I decided to call Joseph Brazil to see if she’d gone on a job.

“Hello, this is Joseph Brazil.”

“This is Lyon Spenser. I’ve been trying to reach Niki, but I’m not even getting a voicemail. Is she on a job?”

“Lyon Spenser, are you with The Golden Team?”

“Yes.”

“Can you come into the office?”

A chill ran down my spine; I didn’t need further confirmation that trouble was brewing. “Where is your office?” I asked. He gave me the address, and I left immediately.

Pulling onto my driveway, Raven called out, “Where are you headed?”

“I’m going to the FBI headquarters,” I replied.

“Then I’ll drive,” he said. I climbed into his vehicle, and we arrived within an hour.

Inside the office, I found Joseph talking with another man. He waved us over.

“Jackson, this is Lyon Spenser from The Golden Team.”

“And this is Raven, who’s also on my team. So, where is Niki?”

Jackson’s expression was grim as he explained, “The head of the Los Angeles cartel has her. They were after her—and someone in this office turned informant. They knew exactly where she was and attacked us. They even shot Jackson a couple of times, threatening to blow his brains out if she didn’t come with them.”

“She didn’t want to go. If those guns hadn’t been pointed at her, she might have fought back. That was two days ago,” Jackson added.

“Fuck! Have you heard anything from her at all?” I demanded.

“Nothing,” he replied.

“We’ve got FBI agents all over the city now, hunting for her,” Jackson continued.

I pressed on, “Who was the informant?”

“One of her team.”

“And where is that team member?”

Jackson’s voice darkened, “We found her with a note stabbed into her head that read, ‘Yes, it was me.’”

“Fuck. I’ll find her. Have you called her mother?” I asked urgently.

“Yes,” Jackson confirmed. “Raeann and her friends from the FBI Special Agents are on their way. They won’t come here—they’ll start working on finding her immediately.”

“Do you have his address?”

“No.”

“Do you have any address at all?”

“No.”

I exchanged a determined glance with Raven. “We’ll find her. Let me know if you hear from anyone.”

Joseph hesitated, “I don’t think it’s wise for you to start looking right now. With so many people involved—I never thought Niki’s mother would call in reinforcements—I’m telling you this because I know you’ll keep reaching out, and I’ll keep you informed on everything.”

Ignoring his caution, I left the office. I immediately began dialing every informant I knew, promising them anything they wanted if they could reveal where the cartel was holding Niki. I knew Raven was doing the same.

Later, we headed to the location where Niki had been undercover. As we combed the area, I noticed a young woman who appeared to be suffering from a drug overdose. I raced back to my car, grabbed my Narcan, and quickly administered it. Within moments, her eyes fluttered open, and I called for an ambulance.

While we waited, the girl fixed her gaze on me. I realized she was barely out of her teens and could tell she needed to speak. “You can talk to me,” I urged gently.

In a trembling voice, she said, “They shot me up with drugs because I talked to Candy, at his house. They’ve locked her in a room—and beaten her. I heard them say she killed one of Luke’s men, and now he’s furious. You have to call the police.”

“That’s the group we’re after. Do you know where they are?” I asked.

She hesitated, “No. I’ll try my hardest to remember something, but they’re always watching me.”

Before I could ask any more questions, she was loaded into the ambulance and whisked away.

I looked at Raven and said, “Someone here knows that address. If I have to beat it out of them, I will. Who do you think is keeping watch over these prostitutes to make sure they don’t cheat the boss?”

Raven replied, “How about we split up and do some scoping on our own? Whoever’s in charge here is bound to have a bunch of drugged-up men kissing his feet for more drugs because he’s in with the cartel.”

I crossed the street and spotted a dark-haired woman arguing with a man. Although she was dressed like a prostitute, the way she carried herself—her immaculate hair and the gentle way she clung to him—revealed she wasn’t one of the streetwalkers.

I approached them. “Hello,” I said, “you don’t look like a typical hooker. You must be here to help Raeann.”

“Who are you?” the man demanded.

“Lyon Spenser. I’m with The Golden Team and looking for my friend.”

“We’re after the same person,” the woman interjected. “Why do you think I don’t look like your average hooker?”

“You’re too clean,” I replied. “Look around—can you name a single clean prostitute?”

“My name’s Sage Brooks,” she said. “I told my husband I needed to get dirty, but he wouldn’t let me. He watches over me like I’m his damn queen.”

“You are my queen, sweetheart,” Wyatt said, pulling her close and kissing her.

Sage rolled her eyes. “You two will never catch the cartel if you’re busy making out. I’m here to locate the guy who’s supposed to be watching over the women. If we can get him to give us the address, we can rescue Niki—she’s being held at Luke’s house.”

“How do you know she’s there?” Sage asked.

“There was a young woman here I had to use Narcan on—she’d been shot up with drugs. She told me Niki was at Luke’s place and that they beat her badly.”

Sage scanned the area. “It’s that guy over there,” she said.

I followed her gaze and spotted a nervous man standing at the end of the alley. Just then, Raven strode over, grabbed him, and disarmed him. We converged on him quickly and led him to the far end of the alley.

“I’ll give you a chance to live,” I growled. “Tell me where they took Candy.” Looking into his eyes, I realized he wouldn’t offer anything willingly—he knew his fate was sealed.

Without waiting for his answer, I rifled through his pockets, extracting his phone and a few syringes. Flipping through his contacts, I found the number I’d been hunting. I passed the phone to Raven. The man fought like a cornered animal, unwilling to surrender; he’d rather die than be drugged up. I shot whatever drugs were in those syringes into him.

“Why did you do that?” Sage demanded.

“I knew he wouldn’t give up the address on his own—he understood that his death was inevitable. But when drugs are involved, he’ll say anything for more,” I explained.

“Where are you taking him?” Wyatt asked.

“Right here,” I said coolly. “We’ll keep him for a few minutes. He’ll want more, and eventually, after an hour of wrangling the information out of him, I’ll administer one final shot to ensure he never wakes again.”

With that, the grim interrogation continued, each of us driven by the hope of saving Niki from Luke’s clutches.