“Tell me why I’m here. What you’re using me for. Don’t you want to share that with me?”
“Tempting, but you know what would be more fun? And you know how much I love fun and games.” He came closer, cupped her chin in his hand, made her skin crawl. “Figure it out. It’s like a puzzle. Just put the pieces together. Now I’m going on a little adventure. You be good while I’m gone.”
“Won’t you stay and talk to me? Or . . . we can do whatever you want. Anything. But don’t go tonight.”
“That’s just so sweet. No offense, honey, but you kn
ow you’re not my type these days. Not that I can’t make do.” He gave her another wink. “The thing is, I’ve got plans for tonight.”
“They’ll be looking for you.” She couldn’t stop her tone from rising, her voice from shaking. “If you go out, try to take another girl, they could catch you. Everything will be over before it begins. You don’t need to do this. I’ll be what you want.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty head about me.” He blew her a kiss. “I’ll be back soon, and won’t it be nice for you to have some company?” He glanced toward the ruined sandwich. “Sorry about dinner, but I guess you’ve learned not to make the lady of the house mad. She’s got a temper, that one.”
“Please, please, please. Wait!” No good, no good, nothing she could do to stop him. “Please, just tell me where I am. Just tell me, are we still in Dallas or—”
“Dallas is the whole point. Be back soon.”
He left the lights blazing. Melinda dropped her head on her updrawn knees, let out a keening wail for the child whose life would be forever scarred if McQueen had his way.
She rocked, she wept, she finally released the screams burning her throat until, exhausted, she lay curled on the floor of the horrible room.
She let her eyes track it now, let herself see where she was. A rectangle of walls, floor, ceiling, the single window barred and screened. Even if she could reach it, she’d need a tool of some sort to hack at the screening. No table, no chair, just a blanket tossed on the floor.
And four sets of shackles fixed to the walls.
He didn’t mean for her to stay alone.
God, God, give her the strength to help whoever he brought in here. To help the children survive, to help her find a way to save them.
Help her save their hearts and minds. It’s what she’d trained and studied for. And Bree, she had to trust that Bree would do the rest.
If they were still in Dallas, as he’d said, there was a chance, a good chance. Bree would never give up, never let up. And she was smart, canny, tireless. A cop through and through, Melinda told herself. She’d started to become one the day they’d been saved.
The moment Officer Eve Dallas had opened the door to that awful room in New York, Bree had set her path, and had followed it without detour.
To protect and serve, Melinda thought as she closed her eyes, the victims, the abused, the marks, the shattered. And she’d used the career of the cop who’d saved them as her template. Setting the goal high, that was Bree. That was . . .
She shoved up to sit, eyes open.
Dallas was the whole point. Eve Dallas?
Was it all just about revenge after all?
Eve paced in front of her board, juggling the details, making patterns, taking them apart, reforming them. She constantly checked the time.
It hadn’t been that long, not really, since they’d picked up Civet in New York. Pressuring solid information out of a dealer with his record and experience took finesse, effort, sweat.
But why the hell hadn’t they pressured anything out of him?
She stepped to the connecting door where Roarke worked three comps, muttering at all of them, in his search for McQueen’s accounts.
“Maybe you could holo me in to New York, into Interview.”
He paused, rolling his shoulders as he sat back to study her. “If that’s what you want, we can set it up.”
“If I’m there it adds weight, and maybe I can hit him from another angle.”
He said nothing for a moment, only watched her.