“I’m Echo,” she said. “I hear you want to meet me.”
“I do,” he said.
“It’s so noisy in here. Let’s go someplace quiet.”
As he followed Echo to the VIP rooms, Daniels texted him, asking if he’d made any progress. He texted her back a thumbs-up emoji.
“Your wife checking up on you?” Echo asked.
“Just someone from work,” he said.
He sat down on a red leather couch, and she crawled into his lap. Her hands were lightning fast as she frisked him.
“Whatever happened to foreplay?” he asked with a grin.
“Got to check for guns. House rules. You’re not a cop, are you?”
“Do I look like a cop to you?”
“No, you look like Santa Claus.”
Echo unbuttoned his shirt and started to rub his big, round belly. She was surprised at how hard his stomach was, and gently poked at it like a kid testing the air inside a balloon. Knowing she was underage made him uncomfortable, and he pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, revealing his detective’s badge pinned to the inside. Her smile vanished.
“Shit. I guess you’re not Santa Claus,” she said. “You going to bust me?”
“Let me ask the questions. How old are you? And don’t lie to me.”
“Seventeen.”
“Where are you from?”
“Atlanta.”
He pointed at the scabbing tattoo on her stomach. “What’s the story here?”
“My boyfriend made me get it.”
“You didn’t want a tattoo?”
“I thought it was ugly. Made me look like a whore.”
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. It was not uncommon for bikers to make their girls get a tattoo so that they could take possession of them. Echo had gotten the tattoo, but she hadn’t liked it, and that said a lot.
“Is your boyfriend a biker?” he asked.
She nodded, and a tear rolled down her cheek.
“What’s his name?”
“Dexter. He threatened to hurt me and my baby if I disobeyed him.”
“Does Dexter have a droopy mustache and sideburns?”
“Yeah. You know him?”
“I do. Would you like to get away from Dexter? I can help you do that.”
Her face turned to stone. Seventeen, raising a child, forced to strip to make ends meet, her life filled with broken promises. She had no good reason to believe anything he said.
“Can I show you something?” he asked.
She shrugged. “I guess.”
He opened the gallery app on his cell phone, and clicked on an album of photographs taken at Amber Glen Ranch, a rehabilitative facility outside of Nashville. It was here that Team Adam sent victims of kidnapping and sexual assault so they could heal their damaged psyches and reconnect with the world. The therapy included working in gardens, doing chores on the farm, and caring for horses.
He scrolled through the collection. “See the girl riding the horse? Her name is Stacy Lynn. She was kidnapped when she was fourteen, and kept in a cellar. Her captor raped her every day. I rescued her a year ago, and arranged for her to go live on a ranch. A team of therapists are helping her get better.”
One photo showed Stacy Lynn picking tomatoes. She wore jeans and a T-shirt and looked like a normal teenager. When he came to the last photo, he stopped. It was of the two of them, holding a basket of tomatoes that Stacy Lynn had picked. He’d gone to see her while chasing down a lead in Nashville, and been thrilled at how well she was doing.
Echo stared longingly at the photo, then gazed at him. The suspicion in her face had evaporated. “Can my baby and I live in this place?”
“I can arrange that. But you’ve got to help me find Dexter.”
“Is that a promise?”
“Yes, it’s a promise. All I have to do is make a phone call.”
It was a big decision, and Echo thought about it long and hard.
“Dexter’s down in Saint Petersburg, getting ready to kidnap a woman,” she said. “He told me the other night before he left, said he’d kill me if I talked.”
“Does Dexter live with you?”
“Yeah. I share an apartment with another dancer. Dexter decided to move in, and threw my roommate out. Couple of nights ago he got drunk, and told me how he was part of a gang that was kidnapping women. He even showed me a video of the women. I think they were being kept somewhere.”
He sat up straight on the couch. “How did they look?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“The women — were they healthy?”
“They looked okay. None of them looked beat up, or anything.”
“Did you meet any other members of his gang?”
“His buddies came over a few times. Their names were Skyler and Logan.”
It was a small world. Echo had known his brother, and she’d also known Skyler Seeley, the man he’d shot twice in the back outside the Jayhawk Motel who’d later died.
“What did Dexter tell you about the job in Saint Petersburg?” he asked.
“Dexter said he was meeting up with a guy named Jake Williams, who he’d known in prison. They were going to track this woman down, and kidnap her. Dexter said this woman had an unlisted address and unlisted phone numbers, but that didn’t matter, because he could still find her.”
“Did he say how?”
“Dexter said he could find people just by having their email address.”
Lancaster knew a great deal about cyberstalking through his work with Team Adam, and was not aware of any method of finding a person solely through their email address. It simply wasn’t possible, and he guessed Echo had misunderstood what Dexter had said to her. The door opened, and a mean-looking bouncer stuck his head in.
“Time’s up,” the bouncer said. “Get back to work.”
The bouncer glared at them and slammed the door. Echo started to tremble, and she looked like she might start crying again. “That’s Marcus. He’s one of Dexter’s biker friends. Always checking up on me. I’ve got to go.”
She climbed off his lap, and went to the door. The Outlaws did not tolerate disloyalty and liked to say that while God forgives, Outlaws don’t. He knew that he’d placed Echo in danger.
“When do you get off work?” he asked.
“Couple of hours,” she said.
“Give me your address, and I’ll pick you up. You’re not safe around here.”
Echo gave him her address. The look on her face said she didn’t think she would ever see him again. They both returned to the club. She climbed onstage and started dancing with the other girls. He tried to make eye contact, but she wouldn’t look at him.
He made sure he wasn’t being followed before going outside. The temperature had dropped and made his skin tingle.
He felt elated. Echo had shared two important pieces of information. The victims were still alive, and Dexter was preparing to abduct another woman with a new partner. He knew enough about the gang’s motives to believe that he could figure out the new victim’s identity, and stop Dexter and his partner in the act.
He walked down the sidewalk toward the sandwich shop. Beth was going to be happy with his progress. She’d been working the investigation for a month, and the emotional wear and tear was showing. She needed to take a vacation after it was wrapped up, and he knew a perfect spot in the Keys that he planned to recommend.
Dino’s lot had a single car parked in it. His. Beth and her team were gone.
He checked his phone to see if she’d left him a message. There were none.
The owner of the sandwich shop was cleaning up. He banged on the window, and the owner unlocked the front door. “We’re closed.”
“There were three cars parked in your lot. Did you see them leave?”
“Yeah, about ten minutes ago,” the owner said.