bike running, I motioned to Summer to follow and pressed a single finger to my lips. She did, and when I pointed to the item duct-taped to the branch of a lemon tree, the space between her eyes narrowed. Followed by a wrinkle. I again pressed my finger to my lips and shook my head. We backed up quietly, climbed on the bike, and eased down the road that led back to civilization. A mile away, I stopped and turned, and even with the helmet on and face mask down, I could see Summer’s fear.
She lifted the face mask. Her voice cracked. “Was that an iPhone?”
“Yes.”
“Why was it in the tree?”
“Someone was watching us. An instant video feed.”
“Do you think they saw us?”
“Yes.”
“But why?”
“They wanted to know if she was being followed. And by whom. It’s why they let her make the call. They baited us. I never saw it coming, but I should have.”
She wrapped her arms tighter around my waist. She whispered, I think because the sound of the words hurt too much: “That’s bad, right?”
I didn’t sugarcoat it. “It’s not good.”
By leaving the way we did, we had convinced whoever was watching that we didn’t know about the phone. Given that, they’d probably hung up and chalked up the loss of an iPhone to necessary intel. But I knew we needed that phone. “Wait here.”
Summer grabbed my hand. “You coming back?”
I nodded.
“You promise?”
I laughed. “Unless . . .” I shined my light out across the water at nearly fifty pairs of eyes staring back at us. “One of them gets hungry.”
She climbed up on the bike and sat on her haunches.
I ran back for the phone, circling the tree from a distance. The light was off. Call disconnected. But the owner had still sent me a message. When I cut the duct tape, the vibration buzzed the phone on, waking the home screen. One text waited. I opened it, knowing it had been sent for me. It was direct and to the point. There was a picture of Angel. Taken over her shoulder as she sat lounging on a couch. Drink in hand. Sunglasses. Bikini. Whoever held the camera also held one end of the strap to her bikini. It draped over his finger, which was resting on her neck. She was laughing. Oblivious. The suggestion was clear. The text read, “Now accepting bids.”
I powered it off. Removed the SIM card and placed both in my pocket. I didn’t want them tracking me. I’d already been baited once. Didn’t want it to happen again.
We rode in silence back to the hotel. Over that hour, Summer didn’t say a word. One hand wrapped around my waist, while the other had climbed higher, inside my shirt and lying flat across my heart. Ever since Angel had left my chapel, the clock had been ticking. Now it was ticking much faster.
At the hotel, I scanned the phone’s contents. No surprise, it was empty. No videos. No pics. No apps. No history. It hadn’t been wiped; it simply hadn’t been used. It was a sacrificial phone. Probably one of many. The only data showed that the phone had called or been called by two numbers. Multiple times. Over the course of a week. Which meant the phone had had a one-week life span. Summer looked over my shoulder. “Any luck?”
I deliberated. The text and picture would not encourage her. They would worry her. A lot. But this was her daughter and she had a right to know what she was up against. I clicked on the text. The picture opened. Summer read the words, then chewed on her lip. She wanted to ask but didn’t, so I explained. “Somewhere on the black web, Angel has her own page. They’ve taken pictures, maybe movies. And they’ve started an auction.”
Summer stared at the picture.
“My guess is that they’ll give it a couple of days, then close the auction and arrange for transfer. Along with several other girls.”
Summer sat with her knees against her chest, chewing a fingernail.
I called Colorado and gave him the numbers. He called back five minutes later. Both numbers were no longer in service, telling me these guys were no amateurs. I already knew that. He also told me that the number tied to the SIM card was the same number Angel had last used to call me.
It was another message. And Angel had not sent it.
Chapter 26
My guess was that whoever was moving these girls had found a new