The room is dark and silent, but I sense someone watching from the shadows.
I listen hard, my ears and eyes open, my pulse jagged. My old friend paranoia has me questioning everything—the hum of the air conditioning, the creak of a floorboard, the rustle of a tree branch outside the window.
Then I hear a distant ringing and realize what woke me.
Careful not to disturb Shay, I rise and walk naked to the closet. I grab a pair of sweats from the dresser and pull them on in the dark. Then I head out of my bedroom and down the hallway to my office, where the cell phone on my desk continues to ring.
It’s the burner I use for business. The number to which only dangerous or desperate people have.
“Yonige-ya.”
A male voice with a British accent answers me. “You on your way?”
It’s Axel. I frown. “Way where?”
“We have a move tonight.”
Fuck. Not tonight, of all fucking nights.
“Since when?”
“Since Tuesday of last week. I sent you the package.” He pauses. “Don’t tell me you forgot.”
That’s exactly what happened, but I’m not about to admit that my attention has been otherwise occupied. “Got my dates mixed up.”
“You don’t get your dates mixed up.” Another short pause. “She with you?”
I can’t help the growl that rises in my throat. “None of your fucking business.”
He chuckles. “That’s a yes. Look at you, having a sleepover. I’d ask if you were out of your mind, but I already know the answer.”
“Fuck you, Axel.”
He doesn’t take offense. He knows it’s myself I’m frustrated with, not him.
“I love you too, bruv. I’ll send you the address again. You’ve got twenty minutes to get to Van Nuys. It’s gonna be tight.”
He disconnects, leaving me cursing.
Moving fast, I return to the bedroom and dress in the dark. My eyes have adjusted, so I can easily find what I need. I grab my briefcase, dash off a note for Shay in case she wakes up, and leave it on my pillow.
I stare at her silently as she sleeps for a moment. It’s almost impossible to leave her, but I must.
The 405 is unnaturally quiet tonight. One bit of luck. I speed down the freeway into the Valley, my foot jammed against the gas pedal, my mind sharp, and my hands steady.
I’m in go mode.
I’ve done this so many times before, it’s as automatic as breathing.
I park three blocks away and walk the rest of the distance. The streets are empty. The neighborhood is worn around the edges, mostly apartment buildings built after the last world war, strip malls with liquor stores and laundromats and the random fast food drive-through on a corner.
It’s not always like this. I’ve moved women from wealthy neighborhoods too. Money solves some problems but amplifies others.
A black Sprinter van with fake plates idles across the street from the four-story apartment building I’m headed to. Axel is behind the wheel. He spots me and gives me a thumbs-up.
Then I’m standing in front of apartment 2B, lightly knocking.
The woman who opens the door is slightly built, with frizzy brown hair and a chalky complexion. Her sweater is threadbare and her shoes are old too, but the purple bruise on her cheekbone is fresh. So is the cigarette burn on the back of her hand.
The little girl with the big brown eyes hiding behind her and clinging to her leg has bruises around her throat in the shape of fingers.
“Hello, Theresa. Are you ready?”
She nods, opening the door wider to let me in.
When I step inside, I smell cigarette smoke and stale beer. The living room is small but tidy. A single light burns in the hallway that leads past the kitchen. Down that hallway behind a closed door, a television blares.
Good. Ambient noise masks all kinds of nastiness.
Unless, of course, he starts screaming. Which they sometimes do. Then I’ll have to get creative. A crushing blow to the windpipe usually does the trick.
I close the door behind me and turn to Theresa, who’s chewing her thumbnail and hyperventilating. I keep my voice low and soothing because I know her nerves are shot.
“I’ll be out in less than five minutes. Then I’ll take you across the street to my associate who’s waiting. He has all your paperwork. IDs, passports, plane tickets. He’ll take you to the airport and get you on the flight. When you arrive in Vancouver, you’ll be met by another of my associates who’ll assist you from there.”
“How will I know how to find him?”