Page 70 of Under the Radar

38

Mac wheeled around and stuffed a wad of napkins in Alice’s hands. “You can cry later. We kept our end of the bargain, you’re out of the hood. I need information quick. What’s your name?”

“Alice Murray.” She clutched her hands to her chest to stifle the sobs.

“How long was Mo in that house?”

“About three hours, maybe a little more.”

“Where’d they take her?”

“I don’t know. Carlos was on the phone and mentioned something about a marina.”

“Is Mo injured?”

Alice nodded. “Somebody punched her in the face. Her ear was bleeding.”

“Was she drugged?”

“Yeah. I think they knocked her out with that nasty chloroform. She smelled like it and got sick to her stomach. Same thing happened to me when one of my johns used the stuff on me.”

“Was she alert?”

“Sorta. She asked me to help her.”

“What else did you do to her?”

“I swear I didn’t do nothing to her, just helped her use the toilet, gave her water, and cleaned the vomit off the floor. They got her all tied up. Hands behind her back, feet bound, and blindfolded. I’d barely got her settled again when the animals grabbed her and left. I gave her my little paring knife.” Alice held up her fist and pointed. “I slipped it right in here.”

“Was she wearing earrings? It’s an odd question, but think—earrings?”

“Don’t need to think. She’s wearing one earring. The other one is missing, and her ear’s torn a little. I asked if she wanted me to take out the other earring, but she said it was sentimental and could I look for the missing one. I didn’t find nothing. She lost it when she got punched in the face.”

“What else did she say to you?”

“She told me who she was and her father’s name. Said he’d set me up somewhere safe if I’d help her. But there ain’t nowhere safe for me now. They’ll hunt me down just like they did to your friend.”

“Who’s your boss?”

Alice flinched and her eyes widened. “No, mister, you got it wrong. I don’t work for them animals. I was hooking and got pregnant. One of my johns lives in the house and hid me from my pimp. Said I could do the cooking and cleaning. I been trapped in there since March. Diamond would shoot me on sight if he knew I was still in town.”

Mac forced down his irritation. He couldn’t care less about her life’s story. “Somebody’s the boss, who is it?”

“Carlos.”

“Think, Alice. Do you have any idea which marina these guys would use? Maybe they mentioned it in conversation over a meal or something?”

“No. They never talked business in front of me until earlier this afternoon. When they brought your friend in through the back door, they were yammering about all kinds of things and high-fiving and laughing. Said the boss would give them a big bonus for getting the job done right this time.”

Mac’s phone rang. He fished it out and glanced at the screen. “Yeah, Liz…”

“I spoke to our guys in the van. They vacated the house in West Baltimore about two minutes ago, but not before confiscating several computers, files, DNA samples, and what they believe is the scrambler used to disguise your girl’s location. Now that the scrambler is disabled, you should be able to see her coordinates with the phone app.”

Mac tapped the app and waited as satellite images sprang to life on the screen. Maps whirled and coordinates danced in the green glow. He rubbed his neck to relieve the tension. It’d only been a few seconds, but waiting for the screen to settle and pinpoint a location for Mo took forever.

Mo still wore either the audio earring or the GPS. He shoved the earpiece in his ear and turned up the volume. Muffled static—same as before, so the audio earring was no longer a viable option. His phone screen continued to sort numbers and maps, occasionally pausing on a coordinate, and then morphing into sequential numbers. It was maddening. He slammed his fist against the door and uttered a silent plea.

The phone pinged. Mac bolted upright and focused on the map in front of him. She’s wearing the GPS. A blue dot stared at him from the left side of the screen. He expanded the map. The east side of Baltimore—Dundalk? No. Over by the cruise terminal again? Maybe. He continued to enlarge the screen for her exact location. Shit. Mo was no longer on land. She was out on the Chesapeake Bay, and, judging by the ever-changing coordinates, on the move.