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The Traffickers (Badge of Honor 9)

Page 168

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Matt paused and looked at her.

“No,” he said, shaking his head, slightly confused.

“They left a terrifying message on your voice mail. They were holding me for ransom. But it wasn’t me. On the message, I mean.”

Matt nodded as he tried to digest that.

A voice-mail message?

I wouldn’t have gotten it because my battery is dead.

He glanced at the box on the table, then went back to cutting the duct tape. He was really worried he might accidentally cut her in his haste. He had to saw slowly through the tape. They had made at least four wraps of each wrist and ankle, and it took more slow sawing than he could believe.

Paco Esteban came into the kitchen.

“Sergeant Byrth-he said tell you ‘house clear,’ ” Esteban said.

“Thank you.”

Payne reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

“Paco, would you look in that box of phones and see if you can find a battery that works with this phone? Or maybe a charger, if there’s one in there.”

“S?.”

Jim Byrth walked into the kitchen.

“Okay, I’ve got El Gato secured in there,” he said, and grinned. “Taped to the chair just like he likes.”

He handed Payne’s handcuffs back to him.

Then he said, “The guys in Dallas described that stash house they raided. This place is set up just like it. It’s a damn prison. Actually, our Texas prisons are nicer.”

Byrth then tossed a nice tan leather wallet on the kitchen table. And two State of Texas driver’s licenses.

“El Gato is one Juan Paulo Delgado, aka Edgar Cisneros. I called it in to the office. He’s got a few priors, but nothing serious like this. Born at Parkland in Dallas at taxpayer expense-both parents undocumented Mexican nationals, later given amnesty in that law President Reagan signed-and educated in Dallas at taxpayer expense. Too bad he learned all the wrong lessons.”

Payne raised his eyebrows at that.

So he is a U.S. citizen, and preying on illegals, ones like his parents. Unbe lieveable.

But an animal’s an animal, no matter the circumstances.

“Here, Sergeant Payne,” Paco Esteban said, holding out Payne’s cell phone.

Payne took it and saw that Esteban had already pressed the 0/1 button. The phone was coming to life.

It vibrated three, then four times. Its small screen announced that he had five missed calls, including two voice-mail messages and two text messages from Amanda Law.

Payne hit the speakerphone key. He played the first voice mail; it had been blank.

The second voice mail was El Gato’s threat, with the screaming boy and girl recording and the threat to kill Amanda.

Payne saw Amanda start to shake visibly.

He knelt and held her as he turned off the telephone.

When she’d stopped, he stood. He looked at the beers on the table.



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