Deadly Questions (Hardy Brothers Security Book 8) Page 2

  “That sounds lovely,” Sophie admitted.

  Grady studied his girlfriend’s profile. She looked so earnest. He made a mental note to start researching trip packages for New York. It was the middle of summer, but winter wasn’t too far off. A couple of days in a nice hotel – with a nice hot tub – would be enough to keep Sophie smiling for months. And, when Sophie was smiling, so was Grady.

  “When I returned, I found the invitation to James’ birthday party waiting for me on the counter,” Peter said. “I was surprised to see it, to say the least.”

  “We owe you a lot,” James said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs at the ankles. “You kept my wife safe.”

  “Your wife, along with my daughter and your sister, kept themselves safe,” Peter countered.

  “Without your men, Jake would have died,” James pressed. “I have no doubt about that. Plus, we have no idea how long the sight of your men at the front and back of the house kept people away. You kept us safe. You’re a part of this family. Let’s not make a big deal over it.”

  Peter’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled. “You have a way with words.”

  “Yeah, he’s a real pain,” Ally agreed, pushing past James so she could settle in an open chair next to the table. “So, what’s up? Have you shot anyone in the kneecaps lately?”

  “Ally,” Grady warned. A quick glance at Peter told him that the alleged mobster was delighted with Ally’s question – and moxie. There wasn’t a trace of anger on his face.

  “I haven’t had to do that in a few decades,” Peter replied, chuckling. “I do have a situation I would like to run past you – all of you – though.”

  James shifted in his chair. “And what would that be?”

  Peter glanced around the party. “Are you sure you want to do it now?”

  “I’d rather do it now,” James said. “Once Mandy gives me my birthday gift, we’re going to be expected to ‘ooh’ and ‘ah’ over it all night. It’s better to discuss things now.”

  “Very well,” Peter said, steepling his fingers as he rested his hands on his lap. “Are you aware of the situation on the Ambassador Bridge?”

  James stilled, surprised. “What situation?”

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Peter said, his face grim. “When I returned home earlier this week, I got an update from a … friend … at the border. He’s a security agent.”

  “He works border patrol?” Grady asked.

  “Yes,” Peter replied.

  “Members of your organization work border patrol?” Grady pressed.

  “Grady,” Sophie said, poking him in the side. “I don’t think … .”

  Peter held up his hand to stymie his foster daughter. “It’s quite all right, my dear. I understand his curiosity. No one on my payroll works border patrol. I have friends who provide information for a fee who work border patrol.”

  James made a face. “Paid snitches.”

  “Yes. Anyway, this friend informed me of a situation,” Peter said. “I wasn’t aware of it myself. I’ve thought about this all week, and I’m not sure whom else to broach the situation with. I’m not saying that I expect you to do anything,” Peter cautioned. “I would like to hear your ideas.”

  Everyone waited for Peter to continue.

  “Five women who work the area near the bridge have gone missing in the last two months,” Peter said.

  “I haven’t heard anything about that,” Sophie said. “That would be big news. I think your friend must be mistaken.”

  Peter’s face softened as he regarded her. “These aren’t the type of women who are missed by a lot of people.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Grady rubbed Sophie’s knee. “He means they’re prostitutes, sugar.”

  Sophie stilled. “Oh.”

  “How do you know they’re missing?” James asked. “That’s a high-turnover profession. Maybe they just got tired of turning tricks and ran?”

  “That happens,” Peter agreed. “I don’t believe that’s what happened in this case, though.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not going to pretend that the men who organize the labor in this field … .”

  “You mean pimps,” Grady prodded.

  “Yes, Grady,” Peter said, exasperated. “I was referring to pimps. Anyway, I don’t believe that they are good men. I don’t believe they’re men who want to protect the women they employ. I don’t believe they’re decent human beings who are misunderstood.

  “I do believe, however, that they’re men who want to turn a profit,” Peter continued. “These men can’t turn a profit if their employees run. They can’t turn a profit if their employees disappear. If they can’t turn a profit, then they’re not very good businessmen, are they?”

  Grady made a face. “Let me guess, your friend on the Ambassador Bridge also accepts fees for looking the other way when a prostitute crosses the border?”

  “I have no specific knowledge of that,” Peter said. “As I’ve told you before, I keep my fingers out of the sex trade. It’s too much work, and too much hassle. In addition, I find the whole thing tacky.”

  Grady forced his shoulders to relax. Becoming aggressive with Peter wasn’t going to help anyone. It might even hurt Sophie, and that was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “Still,” Grady said. “Five workers out of – there must be thousands of streetwalkers in Detroit these days – that doesn’t seem like a lot.”

  “All five women were young,” Peter said.

  “How young?” James queried.

  “Young enough to be worth a lot of money to their employers,” Peter replied.

  “You mean they were teenagers,” Sophie said, exhaling heavily.

  “I mean they were young women,” Peter clarified.

  “And we’re sure they’re missing?” James asked.

  “They appear to be,” Peter replied.

  “Why did your friend come to you?”

  “He wanted to know if I had heard anything through my other dealings,” Peter said. “I hadn’t. Like I said, this was all news to me. Even though I don’t have a dog in the fight, something about this bothers me. That’s why I decided to discuss it with you.”

  “And what do you think?” James asked.

  “I think there could be a predator out there,” Peter said. “That area is desperately run down. If there is a predator – sexual or otherwise – that would be an easy hunting ground.”

  “And we’re talking about at-risk girls who no one will miss,” James mused.

  “Just like my Sophie could have been,” Peter said, his voice soft as he looked upon his foster daughter fondly.

  The chill that had been crowding Grady’s heart where Peter was concerned thawed. Grady had never believed Peter when he said he refused to join the sex-trade business. It never made sense to him because of the money involved. Peter was – above all else – a businessman. What Grady had forgotten was that there was one thing more important to Peter than his business – and that thing was Sophie. Since Sophie was a product of the system, she would have been at greater risk to fall off the grid and be forced into the type of situation that propelled young women into prostitution as a means to survive.

  That’s why Peter wasn’t involved in the sex trade, Grady realized. He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone doing something like that to Sophie, so he refrained.

  “What do you want us to do?” James asked.

  “Just keep your ear to the ground,” Peter said. “I’m not sure there is anything to do – but if someone is hunting women, I don’t care if others think they’re throwaways, I want it stopped. No one is a throwaway to me.”

  “They’re not to us either,” James said. “We’ll ask around, starting tomorrow.”

  “Just send me a bill with your usual rate,” Peter said.

  “That won’t be necessary,” James said. “We’re all going to work this together. We don’t need a fee.”

  Peter stilled
. “I don’t know that I feel right about that.”

  “Well, that’s the offer,” James said. “Take it or leave it.”

  Peter sighed, giving in. “I’ll take it.”

  “That’s good,” James said. “I’d hate to have to fight you on my birthday. I don’t think my wife would be very happy about it.”

  “Speaking of your wife,” Peter said. “She’s heading this way. I think she’s finally ready to unveil your birthday present.”

  “Good,” James said. “I’ve been dying to see this thing since she told me about it. I hope the table can live up to the hype.”

  “Oh, it will,” Ally said, her eyes sparkling. “You have no idea what she’s done in there.”

  James’ eyes narrowed. “And you do?”

  “I helped her do it.”

  “Wait … is there something else in there besides the table?”

  “You’ll have to wait and see,” Ally said, darting out of James’ reach as she jogged to the guesthouse and waited for him by the door.

  Mandy insisted on covering James’ eyes, which made walking into the room difficult. When she finally had him in the position she wanted, she dropped her hands. “Surprise.”

  Peter watched James’ face with a mixture of curiosity and delight as he took in the gift. While a purple pool table wasn’t something Peter found himself longing for, James Hardy was obviously the opposite. The table his wife had designed for him fit into their kitschy saloon. The purple felt of the game table matched the purple felt of the poker table across the room perfectly – tying the room together. And above the pool table? The light Mandy had worked so hard to perfect for her husband was so charming that even Peter was moved by the three silhouettes.

  James stared at the light, befuddled. “Where did you get that?”

  “I had it made,” Mandy said, studying his face seriously. “I … you don’t like it, do you?”

  “What?” James snapped his head in his wife’s direction. “Why would you say that?”

  “You don’t look happy,” Mandy said. “I thought you would like the lamp. I’m sorry. I screwed it up. You said you wanted to pick out your own lamp. You don’t have to keep this one. You can still pick out your own.”

  James sighed, reaching over and capturing his wife’s hand in his. “I love the lamp.”

  Mandy raised her eyes hopefully. “You do?”

  “I just can’t believe you did it,” James said. “It’s … it’s amazing.”

  “I just thought it would be fun.”

  “It’s definitely fun,” James said, reaching up so he could run his fingers over the glass. “It’s … amazing. You’re amazing, baby.” James leaned down and pressed his lips to his wife’s nervous mouth. “This is the best thing – other than you – that I’ve ever gotten.”

  Mandy sighed, relieved. “You’re sure?”

  James glanced around the room. “You know what? Why don’t you guys go and throw the steaks on the grill and give us a few minutes? I’d like to celebrate with my wife, if you don’t mind.”

  Grady made a face. “Everyone get out.”

  Ally was confused. “Why?”

  “Because they’re going to christen the pool table,” Grady said, tugging on his sister’s arm as he led her out of the guesthouse.

  “How do you know that?”

  Grady looked his brother up and down, his hand on the door. “Because they’re sick,” he said. “And because James is so touched right now he can’t think of anything to do but touch her back. I’m sure they won’t be long.”

  James ignored his brother. “Just give us twenty minutes.”

  “Thirty,” Mandy corrected, smiling as James reached for her.

  “Thirty,” James agreed.

  “Sick,” Grady said, shutting the door. Even he couldn’t hide his smile, though. Sometimes love – whether it was yours or someone else’s – was just contagious. Tonight it felt contagious.

  Three

  “So, what are you working on?”

  Sophie glanced up from her laptop, meeting Conrad Malcolm’s gaze evenly. Conrad had been Sophie’s boss since she joined the staff of Macomb County’s newspaper, the Daily Tribune, several years before. Since she was good at her job, he’d afforded her autonomy when she decided on her assignments. All he asked was that she keep him abreast of what her busy mind was investigating.

  “I’m not sure if it will turn out to be anything,” Sophie warned.

  “I’ve heard that before,” Conrad said. “With you, it’s rarely true. What is it?”

  “Have you heard anything about working girls going missing at the border crossing?”

  Conrad frowned, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. “No.”

  “Well, it seems that at least five women have disappeared over the past few months,” Sophie said. “I’m trying to see what I can find.”

  “How did you find out?”

  Sophie stilled, shifting in her seat. “Someone told me.”

  Conrad waited.

  “Someone approached the Hardys to investigate,” Sophie said carefully. “I was just interested when I heard. I figure it could be a good story. There could be a predator out there that we don’t know about.”

  “Wouldn’t there be five bodies instead of five missing women if there was a predator?” Conrad pressed.

  “Not if they haven’t found them yet.”

  Conrad pursed his lips. “You know, about a year ago, there was this woman in the Macomb County Jail who claimed that there was a group of people trafficking women between Canada and the U.S.”

  “I don’t remember that.”

  “That’s because I chose not to pursue the story,” Conrad said. “The story was so … fantastical.”

  “Do you remember her name?”

  Conrad shook his head. “I only remembered the call because you jogged my memory. I never wrote it down. I thought she was a loon.”

  Sophie tapped her bottom lip with her ink pen thoughtfully. “Let’s say they were trafficking women, how would that work?”

  “It depends on what they’re trafficking them for, and where they’re trafficking them to,” Conrad said.

  “Well, we know why they’re trafficking them,” Sophie said. “They’re sex workers.”

  Conrad nodded.

  “I guess it’s too much to hope that they’re keeping them in Canada, huh?”

  “I don’t think there’s a lot of human slavery going on in Canada,” Conrad said. “I’m sure there’s some, but Canada isn’t the market.”

  “So, where is the market?”

  “Everywhere that sex sells,” he replied.

  Sophie was quiet for a few moments. “Where do you think I should start looking?”

  “Where do you think you should start looking?” Conrad replied.

  Sophie scowled. “I hate it when you do that. You’re like a psychiatrist or something.”

  “You haven’t answered the question,” Conrad said, smirking.

  “There’s only one place to start,” Sophie said. “I have to go down to the border.”

  “Be careful down there,” Conrad warned. “That’s a dangerous area. Perhaps you should take Mr. Hardy with you.”

  “I don’t need Grady to do my job,” Sophie countered.

  “I didn’t say you needed him to do your job,” Conrad said. “I said you needed him to keep you safe, and I stand by that. Ultimately, though, it’s your decision.”

  “WELL, well, well, look what the cat dragged in.”

  Grady plastered a fake smile on his face as he regarded the secretary in the front lobby of the Daily Tribune. “It’s good to see you, Marge.”

  “It’s good to see you, too,” Marge said. “I haven’t seen you in what seems like forever. I was under the impression that you’d finally wised up and dumped Sophie.”

  Marge and Sophie had a tortured relationship. Actually, they hated each other. Grady still went out of his way to be nice to the plump receptionist. He figured, i
f he was nice enough, maybe Sophie would catch on to the proper way to deal with Marge. So far, his efforts had been futile.

  “Oh, nothing will ever make me dump Sophie,” Grady said. “I’d be lost without her.”

  “And homeless,” Finn teased, glancing between Marge and Grady curiously. He’d never been inside the Daily Tribune building before, so he was taking it all in.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Marge asked.

  “Well, they live together.”

  Marge made a face. “Since when?”

  Finn shuffled uncomfortably. “Um … a month or so.”

  Grady’s smile never wavered, even though he had the sudden urge to throttle his brother. “It’s been a great month.”

  Marge pushed out a disgusted sigh. “She must have cast a spell over you,” she said. “That’s all I can figure.”

  “She certainly did,” Grady agreed. “Is she here?”

  Marge ignored the question. “Who is your little friend?”

  Grady didn’t miss the predatory look on Marge’s face as she looked Finn up and down. When he’d first met the secretary, she had been crushing hard on James. She’d shifted that crush to him by virtue of proximity – and because it irritated Sophie. Now it seemed Finn was on the menu. “This is Finn.”

  “Another brother?”

  Grady pinched his brother’s cheek. “He’s my baby brother.”

  “Good genes must run in your family,” Marge said.

  “That’s what our sister says,” Finn said.

  “Are you single?” Marge asked.

  “No,” Finn said, oblivious. “I have a girlfriend.”

  “And what does she do for a living?”

  Finn wasn’t sure how to answer the question, but lying didn’t seem like a necessity. “She’s a model.”

  Marge snorted. “Of course she is.” She turned her attention back to Grady. “And how is James? Is he single yet?”

  “James is married,” Grady said, holding his hands out apologetically. “He’s definitely off the market.”

  “He’s married? He married that … girl?”