Across the hall was the last room, and certain no one was coming up the stairs, he and Meredith crossed to it and peered inside. This one…wasn’t empty.
A still form lay on the bed. He tried the light switch, but nothing happened. Meredith’s eyes had taken longer to adjust, and when she finally realized there was someone there, she raced in, sitting on the end of the bed.
Dark hair. Definitely a girl.
The stillness of the form didn’t bode well. He couldn’t risk Meredith unraveling. Especially if…
As if reading his thoughts, Meredith looked up at him, fear in her eyes, and he grabbed his phone from his pocket. Using the brightness of the screen, he lit the room. And the figure on the bed.
She had a young face that was probably once pretty but now in death was robbed of innocence and life.
Meredith drew in her breath as she leaned forward, clutching her stomach, breathing becoming shallow. But the girl’s hair was almost black, silky, unlike the light brown of Meredith’s daughter.
She finally spoke. “It’s not her.” Her voice rang hollow. No emotion.
The eyes that looked up in eerie silence were odd in color, clearly holding no life. From the makeshift tourniquet around the arm, he was certain it had been an OD. Drugging the girls, ensuring their compliance with a drug-induced state of euphoria certainly would have benefits to an enterprise like this. But as evidenced by the poor girl before them, it also had its risks.
Travis had needed proof that something illegal was going on here. The girl alone might not be enough to prove his entire theory, but her death warranted a call. She needed to be taken care of. “Mer? You still have your phone?”
She pulled out the phone, still tucked in her cleavage, and held it up.
“I’m going to take a look in the basement. You call the police. Report her death.” His voice turned hard. He couldn’t have her follow him. “And stay here.”
Meredith turned to look at the girl. “Okay. I’ll stay with her. Go find Darcy.”
He didn’t hesitate and turned to retrace his steps all the way back until he reached the landing to the basement. There was a closed door at the bottom of the stairs, preventing him from knowing what he was about to walk into.
The music grew louder as he reached the bottom and stopped at the door, straining his ears to hear beyond the door and the music.
Rutting. That’s the best way to describe what he heard. And whimpering.
A hot, angry rage surged through him. His gun in his hand, he opened the door and was embraced by more darkness.
He shut the door quietly behind him and waited, his eyes adjusting again. A dim light threw a little brightness farther on down the empty hall. But the hall turned right and extended farther, to where he didn’t know. Maybe that’s where the last two guys were now.
The sounds, though, the rutting, were coming from behind a sheet to his left. The whole hallway was a makeshift motel almost, with sheets strewn over rope to make doorways. He pushed the sheets to his left open, his gun at the ready.
A guy with a flabby white ass was gyrating over a young girl with bright blond hair who was staring up with glazed eyes. She was barely even conscious. The pervert hadn’t yet noticed Travis’s presence behind him.
Trying to still the force of violence that simmered inside, Travis stepped in and slammed his gun into the guy’s skull, feeling little satisfaction as he stilled and then dropped like a stone. Disgusted, Travis pushed the body off the girl, trying to see if she was okay. Her eyes closed, and she moved her head back and forth, almost as if in sleep. She couldn’t walk. But at least she couldn’t be raped again in the time it would take for the police to arrive.
Outside
the curtain, he heard the quiet murmuring of two men. The sounds were moving closer, so Travis waited.
“Two johns left. It’s almost twelve, nearly curfew. We’ll give them another fifteen and clear them out. Then I’m going to give the li’l brunette upstairs a ride. Did you see the ass on her? Almost as full and ripe as those tits. You want to join me?”
“If Lance sent her over, I wouldn’t touch her if I were you. She must be saved for something big, probably tomorrow night’s sale. It’s your ass if you mess it up.”
The other man snorted. “Well, it don’t hurt to touch. Wonder why they’re waiting so long. They usually like all the merchandise sold and shipped by nightfall. Seems risky to wait so long.”
“It’s because he’s got some big fancy function tomorrow. Can’t have the auction until after. Then we’ll all get our cut and can haul ass.”
They passed by and Travis barely managed to restrain the urge to put a bullet in both guys’ brains now. But sanity returned, and he waited until their footsteps were on the stairs. He was certain another guard had to be around down here somewhere, though. They wouldn’t leave their “merchandise” unattended. He’d have to be careful.
He checked the girl again. Short blond hair. Maybe nineteen. Twenty.
Not Darcy.