Payton threw a cell phone at Agent McDonald and then stormed out of the apartment. In my experience women only walked like that when they had a plan. Maybe she had found something. I stood to follow her out of the room when McDonald reached out a hand to stop me.
“I wasn’t kidding about her being in danger,” McDonald said with a frown, “I don’t know how much she has told you but if you let her go traipsing around this city, it will get her killed. I know you are worried about your sister but please don’t sacrifice Harper to find her.” Payton could take care of herself while my sister couldn’t kill a fly if it was biting her. Payton also knew the risks of her past better than anyone. If she was willing to face the dangers to find Grace then I wasn’t going to stand in her way. If push came to shove, I would pick Grace over a newbie agent every time.
But McDonald was clearly in love with Payton and I didn’t think all her reactions to McDonald could be explained by a love affair gone wrong. There had been some serious emotions flying around this apartment. I deduced it was all wrapped up in Payton’s past life that she was hiding from. The more I knew about the situation the better I could anticipate trouble coming our way.
“What kind of danger are we talking about?” I asked. Agent McDonald searched my face and must have been disappointed in what he found because he let his hands fall to his sides before sinking into a chair behind him.
“You have no idea. No idea who she is or what she has been through. You don’t know her at all. And now you’re going to get her killed.” I was surprised by the man’s vehement and while I wanted to chalk this whole thing up to a broken heart, something in his expression told me that there was more to this story. But I didn’t have time to figure out Payton’s past right now. Grace needed me to find her. Nothing mattered but finding Grace. I took one last look at the desperate man and then left to find out what Payton was up to.
I found her pacing in between two trees that had been planted on the sidewalk. She was clearly in a highly emotional state but when she spotted me, she stopped her pacing and carefully blanked her face. I was impressed with her ability to hide her emotions behind a mask of professionalism. Payton will make a great Whistler agent. I approached her and asked the question that had been burning in my throat.
“Did you find something?”
She nodded and replied, “The footage from the club proves the only person that could have drugged your sister’s drink is the bartender. His name is Tyler Wilson and he lives six blocks from here. Let’s go talk to him.” There was a dark twinkle in her eyes. A dark twinkle that I whole-heartily identified with.
I followed the short dark-haired women the six blocks to the dickwad’s apartment. It was in worse shape than McDonald’s and I had the urge to tear the entire building apart brick by brick. How dare this man drug my Gracie and hand her over to a Mexican cartel. Payton paused in the entryway of the apartment and glanced at my tightly fisted hands.
“I have a plan. And that plan involves both getting information out of this guy and him spending the next six weeks with his jaw wired shut. But I need you to be patient and follow my lead.” I didn’t know if I could do that. This guy had rendered my little sister completely helpless. I needed to make him feel the same way. It was a visceral need that I didn’t want to deny. And what did Payton think she could do that my fists couldn’t. “Please just try it my way first. I know how to motivate people to talk.”
Fine. I would let Payton have the first crack at this guy because she was the one that found him. But I was not going to wait long before seeing to it that this guy started bleeding. I gave Payton one curt nod and we walked up to another apartment door. This time it was Payton that knocked on the door. While she waited for it to open, she straitened her shoulders and pulled down her shirt to expose an impressive amount of cleavage. Did she think she could seduce the answers out of this man?
The door opened to a thin short man that was clearly killing himself with drugs. I glanced at his arms to confirm my assumption and saw the typical track marks. Hate engulfed me as I looked at this poor excuse of human filth that had taken my perfect Gracie away from me.
“Hello Mr. Wilson,” Payton purred in a professional and warm voice like if this man was someone she respected. What-the-fuck.
“We have some matters we would like to speak to you about, do you mind if we come in?” The guy was so enamored by her charm that he smoothed his grease-filled hair back and escorted us into his filthy apartment with a smile on his face. I followed stiffly, forcing a leash around my temper.
Payton ignored the mess around her and sat primly on a bar stool while the piece of shit leaned over the counter with his attention focused on Payton’s cleavage. “And who might you be?” Tyler asked in a cocky tone.
“My name doesn’t really matter, Mr. Wilson.” Payton replied in that sugary sweet tone, “What does matter is that this is the brother of the girl you handed over to the Los Zetas Cartel last night.” Well, that wasn’t where I thought Payton was going with this act. Clearly, Tyler felt the same way because he straightened up in confusion and started to deny Payton’s allegations with his palms flat on the counter. Before Tyler could back up anymore Payton moved to pull a knife, she must have had hidden in her jacket and drove it into the guy's hand, effectively imprisoning the man to his kitchen counter.
The blatant violence was at such odds with the sweet demeanor she was putting on that I had to fight not to react as Tyler howled in pain. “There is no use in denying it, Mr. Wilson. We know that you drugged young Ms. Harris last night. What we want to know is where the Los Zetas Cartel holds the girls after you have delivered them,” Payton purred in that professional voice as if nothing had changed. Jesus Christ, she was acting like a psychopath.
“Why would I tell you shit, you crazy bitch?” Tyler spit out while he removed the knife with his free hand. I was with the piece of shit on this one. What was Payton playing at? If we were going to use violence to get him to talk, then why was she putting on this act? Why didn’t she just let me beat it out of him in the first place?
Payton smiled at him and pulled out her tablet. She laid it on the table next to the small pool of blood left on the counter and Tyler froze when he saw what was on the screen. I glanced down to see a photo of a beautiful young girl. Maybe around thirteen.
“You have such a beautiful daughter Mr. Wilson,” Payton complimented in her sweet voice. “It is such a shame that the kids at her school fail to see it.” Payton used her hand to swipe at the tablet and expose a social media page. “Young Abigail is being bullied by her peers. Did you know that Mr. Wilson? The things they say to her are quite disturbing.” Payton paused as Tyler scrolled through his daughter’s social media page. As the man continued to read his face began to pale.
“Kids are so impressionable at that age, Mr. Wilson. Your Abigail is suffering and doesn’t know where to turn for help. She is thinking about taking matters into her own hands.” Payton swiped at the screen and I saw a webchat about committing suicide with @Abby4Ever as a user. Jesus Christ. Payton was telling this man that his daughter was thinking about committing suicide. What was the angle here? Had she made this shit up? She better not be dragging a thirteen-year-old girl into this shit.
Maybe I needed to take over.
“How… How did you get this?” Tyler asked through stiff lips.
“I have powerful friends, Mr. Wilson. And one of those friends works at a beautiful private school for gifted and talented girls.” Payton swiped the screen again and images of an old campus filled with huge trees and smiling girls in expensive school uniforms filled the screen. “My friend would like to help Abigail out.” Payton purred, and Tyler looked at her as if she held the answers to the universe. “Your daughter could be transferred to this safe and supportive environment as soon as tomorrow, Mr. Wilson. My friend would like to set up a stipend for Abigail to use so she has everything she needs while at St. Francis Academy and introduce her to a counselor that can help her through this hard time in her life.” Payton swiped the tablet and another photo of smiling happy girls filled the screen.
“Would you like for my friend to help Abigail out, Mr. Wilson?” When he nodded adamantly in response Payton said in a slightly more forceful tone, “Then you need to tell us all you know about where the Los Zetas Cartel is keeping the girls that are taken from the clubs.”
I understood then. Payton must think that this man would rather take a beating and keep his mouth shut than betray a dangerous cartel. But she was betting that he would turn rat to save his daughter. And she wasn’t even threatening to hurt Abigail but offering Tyler the chance to be a good father and provide for his daughter in a way that he had never been able to do before. It was brilliant.
“If I tell you what I know, you will leave me alone and Abby will get to go to that fancy school?” Tyler asked in a voice that shook.
“No, Mr. Wilson. The information will buy Abigail a better future. But your actions have sealed your fate. You hurt Liam’s sister. You owe him a debt and he is going to take it out of your hide whether you tell us what we want to know or not.” The calm way that Payton told Tyler that I was going to beat the shit out of the guy sent a shiver down my spine.
Who the fuck is this woman, and where did she learn how to do this?
Tyler looked down at the photo of the smiling girls in school uniforms and tears started running down his cheeks. This is what a truly broken man looked like. And Payton had rendered him into this state with a few words and photos. That told me that Payton must have experience in breaking people.
“I don’t know where they keep the girls. I swear I don’t know. All I know is that they are sold at auction in an old warehouse on Lincoln street every third Friday of the month.” Third Friday, that was this Friday. Four days from now.
Payton’s voice turned cold when she asked her next question. A question that I didn’t want to hear the answer to. “How do they treat the girls once you hand them over?” The piece of shit glanced at me with pity in his eyes before answering.
“They tend to sample the goods if that’s what you are asking.” Sample the goods? He meant that they were hurting Grace. Forcing themselves on my little Gracie. Possibly even as we spoke. The reign I had on my temper snapped and I launched myself at the small broken man. I didn’t even feel it as I drove my fists into the piece of shit’s face over and over again.
Payton never attempted to stop me. And when I finally stopped my arms felt heavy from exertion and Tyler was an unrecognizable mess of blood and tissue under me. A bubble of blood formed at the corner of his mouth and I guessed he was still breathing. I looked up and saw that Payton was at the piece of shit’s computer typing away. When I stood, she turned her head to look at me.
“Nothing on his computer. Go get cleaned up and we will give Joey a call to see if he knows anything about the warehouse.” I had just turned my knuckles into hamburger meat on a man’s face and Payton didn’t even bat an eye. Any other member of my team would have a problem with what I had just done. But not Payton. She was all business and I couldn’t thank her enough for that. She was keeping her promise and doing everything in our power to find my sister.
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