“But what makes you so sure Dad hired them?” she’d asked.

“I just know,” her mother had said, avoiding her eyes.

The commando boys kept glancing at her in a way that made her uncomfortable. If her dad had hired these guys, what was to prevent someone from offering more money to get them to switch sides? Just in case, she’d palmed one of the steak knives from the drawer and tucked it inside her cast. It was uncomfortable, pressed against her bare skin. But it was something. More than she’d had last time, at any rate.

The one who appeared to be in charge, Maltz, returned from the bedroom. He tucked a cell phone in his pocket and avoided their eyes. An hour ago one of them had returned from a trip outside visibly agitated, and since then there had been lots of whispered conversations.

“What’s going on?” Madison asked.

“Nothing, miss,” he said.

But within five minutes they were moving pieces of furniture, blocking the few windows. Maltz marched in with an armful of guns and dropped them in the middle of the living room floor.

“Sweet Jesus,” her mother breathed. They both stared as he went through the pile, performing some kind of check on each.

Madison heard an engine gunning, and watched as they backed the van up to the door. “What the hell is going on?” she asked, hobbling up to Maltz. He’d produced a pair of crutches, but she hated using them.

Maltz eyed her. Clearly he wasn’t comfortable around kids, or maybe humans in general. He wasn’t much taller than her but he was thick, ropy muscle lending him an air of solidity. He had light blue eyes and dusty-blond hair cropped close to his scalp. Under other circumstances, Madison would have probably thought he was cute. Apparently he realized she wasn’t getting out of his face without a response. “We’ve got company,” he said simply.

Madison ’s lungs deflated as though someone was squeezing them. Once again she pictured the clamps being fastened on her bra and she started to shake. “The same guys?” she asked.

“I think so.” Maltz awkwardly patted her shoulder. “You’re gonna be okay,” he said. “We won’t let ’em get you again.”

Madison didn’t reply. She went and curled up next to her mother on the couch. Audrey’s arms wrapped around her and Madison let herself be held, rocked back and forth as she watched the preparations through a stream of tears. One of the men had found some boards and they started nailing them over the windows. The sound of the hammer drove it home: this was never going to end. They had her father, and pretty soon they’d have the rest of her family, too. Madison wanted to scream but instead buried her face in her mother’s chest. As Audrey hummed a tuneless song, one by one the windows were covered and the room slipped into darkness.

Twenty-Two

“Chip?”

Kelly shook her head. Rodriguez crunched noisily. “Haven’t had these since I was a kid,” he said happily, shaking the bag in her direction. “I didn’t even know they still made them.”

“That’s exciting,” Kelly said wryly.

“Hey, anything to lighten the mood.”

Kelly shifted in her seat. She had to go to the bathroom again, but the nearest one was almost a mile away on a parallel road. It was nearly noon and the other warehouses had a steady stream of trucks to and from their loading ramps. Their parked car hadn’t attracted any attention yet, but she was nervous. The other warehouses could also be harboring illegal activities. For all she knew, there could be a posse assembling to string them up, and they were out here all alone. With every passing hour, her doubts about the plan grew. And Rodriguez’s incessant chatter wasn’t helping.

So far she’d been mistaken in her assumption that the cowboys would race to check the second warehouse. She and Rodriguez had spent the night in the car, taking shifts sleeping, and no one had appeared. Maybe Rodriguez was right, and the close call yesterday caused them to shy off. Kelly had agreed that if no one showed by noon, she’d call ICE. Rodriguez bet her fifty dollars that she’d be making that call, and they shook on it. She felt guilty leaving those poor people inside with no food or water. When she conceived the plan she’d expected to wait a few hours, max.

Kelly examined Rodriguez out of the corner of her eye. His face was the manifestation of a mood ring, with every passing hour a new shade was revealed. She had to admit, she was impressed with the way he was handling himself. The bar incident was a debacle, but since then he’d proven surprisingly devoted to solving the case, almost to an extreme. Under similar circumstances, she’d probably still be in a hospital bed.

“You sure you don’t want one? They’re almost gone.” He held the bag out again, and this time she grabbed a handful.

“Thanks.” Kelly popped one in her mouth and promptly gagged. “Oh my God!” she choked.

Rodriguez laughed and handed her a soda. Kelly took a gulp, swished it around her mouth, and spit out the window. “What is that?”

“Pork.”

“That does not taste like pork,” Kelly said, eyeing the remaining chips skeptically.

“Depends on what part of the pig you’re used to eating.” Rodriguez laughed at the shock on her face. “Easy, Jones. I’m messing with you.”

“I’m never trusting you again.” She sniffed, dumping the chips back in the bag.

“Please. Like you trusted me before?” Before she could craft a response, he shook his head and looked out the window. “It’s okay. I’ve heard the rumors.”

“So are they true?”

“Which ones?”

“That you ratted out your last partner,” Kelly said. “Let’s start with that one.”

He shook his head, turning back to the bag.

“C’mon, I’m sure there’s plenty of gossip about me,” Kelly said, tapping his elbow.

“You bet there is.”

Kelly wasn’t expecting such a strong response. Now in spite of herself, she was curious. “If you want me to trust you, I need to know the truth.”

“Is it so hard to believe I did a great job on my last case, and the promotion was based on that?” Rodriguez grumbled.

“You’re twenty-seven years old,” Kelly noted. “You’d have to find Jimmy Hoffa for that kind of bump at your age.”

“Maybe I did.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow. He glared back at her, then shrugged. “Fine. I ratted someone out, but it wasn’t my partner.”

“Who?”

“My boss. He buried some evidence on a case. I found out, told his SAC. Long story short, the FBI couldn’t afford another black eye. He took early retirement, I was given my pick of divisions.”

“Huh.” It made sense, Kelly thought. Last thing the Bureau needed was a high profile officer dragged through the mud. And they’d definitely do whatever it took to keep Rodriguez happy. After working there for more than a decade, she recognized that the FBI could be every bit as dirty and political as a major corporation. Still, she tried to do the best job she could. Sometimes she even felt like justice had been served. Less and less lately, but sometimes. “Okay.”

“Anything else?” Rodriguez asked, jutting his chin out.

She ignored his confrontational tone. “Are you a hermaphrodite?”

“What? They’re not saying that.”

Kelly laughed at his expression. “No, but it’s a good one. Want me to start it?”

“I can promise if you did, my fiancée would hunt you down. And she’s scary, trust me. Those boys in the bar wouldn’t have stood a chance against her.”

“I was surprised to hear you were engaged,” Kelly said.

“What, I’m not a catch?” He grinned.

“You’re so young to be getting married.”

Rodriguez looked bemused. “Tell my mother that. She’s been on me to get hitched since high school. You’re engaged, too, right?”

“Sort of,” Kelly mumbled.

“Have you sort of set a date?”

“Not yet. We’re working out some…technicalities,” Kelly said, wishing he’d change the subject.