Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
When Screech told me they were looking for the person or persons behind the kidnapping of one ‘Laura Moore,’ a petite yet curvy, redheaded stripper who had gone missing from our area almost a year ago, I knew the problem was a lot worse than we originally thought.
When I got a call from Lucas asking some questions that raised my suspicions of their activities, I decided to take a chance. I slipped him the information about the missing women to lure his team down here. It might seem shitty to lure an old friend into a dangerous situation, but I knew Lucas could take care of himself. A team like theirs wouldn’t be filled with pansy ass-wipes who couldn’t complete a mission, so I had no qualms using them to my ends.
Having their team come down wasn’t because I needed them to solve our problem. No, it had more to do with the feeling I had that, if the Ex Ops Team came down here, it might help our own investigation. With what they were working on, I felt it was a mutually beneficial exchange of resources.
I offered them an undercover guise as men in my crew. Gave them cuts, bikes to borrow, and the information I had acquired on the string of missing women Screech had uncovered all across the south. In return, their presence and operation provided me a name to head in the right direction.
Lazaro Sandoval, head of the expanding Cuban Mafia.
We can’t say a hundred percent that he is the person behind the kidnappings, but it is a place to start looking.
However, if I’d known having Lucas and his team coming here would cost me Kara, I probably wouldn’t have slipped them the tip they needed. Call me an asshole, but a man knows when he has a good woman around. Too bad I wasn’t the man meant to keep her.
Our area has the usual homeless population; as a result, the slow rise of middle class women going missing is alarming. Add to it the most recent climb in numbers, and the hair on my neck is standing up. The targets aren’t housewives or upscale citizens, but they are working women—strippers, to be exact. The hookers and street whores selling pussy for dope are accounted for, for the most part. In narrowing down the subjects, it seems to be focused on young, female strippers.
“Latest one isn’t even legal or stripping,” Coal adds, shaking his head in disgust. “She got her job with a fake ID, according to her friend. She’s only seventeen. Dad was molesting her. Mom didn’t believe her. She ran away, got a job waitressing at Paisty’s. Now, she’s been gone nine days. Her roommate says she hasn’t been back at all. Nothing missing, nothing touched, and her purse with her real ID is still at home.”
“We have any leads on how she was nabbed?” I ask. If we did, the boys would have piped up with the information, but I am desperate for something.
“Nothing. She’s a ghost, just like the others.”
“We have spent months trying to find the pattern to the disappearances. Obviously, we aren’t going to be able to prevent the next one from turning up missing. We need to get a lead on where the girls are being held,” Rocks pipes in.
“Well, maybe you aren’t dumb as rocks after all. Who’s to say they are being held, though? Realistically, these girls could have been raped, killed, and the bodies dumped in the damn ocean. All we have is one instance of one of the girls, Laura Moore, being found in the hands of the Rivera Cartel by the Ex Ops Team. All the other girls are dead ends. Laura’s not exactly breathing these days, boys; we can’t count on the fact that the other girls are breathing, either,” Hammer says, bringing up the worst case scenario.
“No, word would get out on the street. Plus, if it was happening like that, it would be a one man show. By this point, he would have slipped up and made a mistake. Whatever this is, it’s big, and it has to involve some key players and multiple people. They are targeting women the cops wouldn’t waste their time on, women who don’t have family or friends with resources to do big search parties. This is meticulous and well thought through as to not draw attention from the boys in blue or the locals.” I look at Coal so he can see where my thoughts are going.
“That description certainly fits Sandoval.” He nods.
“Exactly what I was thinking. This is why we’re going to stay on Sandoval’s trail. We may not have all the proof we need, but at the moment, he’s still our best bet. Let’s call a meet. He’s in bed pretty deep with us now on the drugs and guns. Let’s see if he will sell us some pussy. You have the way in for us there, Coal. Make your call, get me in.”