Kara Lennox - Bounty Hunter Ransom

“Is there something special about this phone?” she asked.

“Kids use it for dealing drugs and calling prostitutes,” Beau explained. “They don’t want any numbers they can’t explain showing up on the cell phone bill Mom and Dad pay every month.”

“You’d think the police would do something!” Aubrey said, indignant.

“It’s not against the law to use the phone.”

“They could follow these kids. Find out who they’re buying drugs from. Or selling drugs to.”

“Too labor-intensive. Not enough manpower. Not enough budget. They’d rather spend their time arresting speeders and kids making U-turns at the wrong time of day. Easy arrests that pump up the statistics and fill the coffers.”

Aubrey realized she’d hit a nerve with Beau.

“Besides, if the cops tried to clean up this area, all my good snitches would be gone.” He seemed to enjoy the look of distaste on Aubrey’s face. But then he grew serious. “Look around. See anyone familiar hanging around the pay phone?”

Aubrey covertly studied the faces of the kids. “No.”

“How about any of the businesses around here? Ever remember Patti mentioning any of them?”

Aubrey studied each seedy little bar and bookstore. Finally she saw something that jogged her memory. “That bar over there, the one called Kink?”

“Yeah?”

“I think Patti used to be a waitress there, but it was a while ago.”

“Still, that might be the link we’re looking for.”

“Let’s go check it out.” She turned, but Beau grabbed her arm before she could get going.

“Wait. You know what kind of bar that is?”

“What do you mean? One that serves alcohol, I presume.”

“It’s an S&M bar.”

That stopped her cold. “You mean, like sadism and masochism?”

“I mean, people who dress in leather and studs and stick safety pins in parts of their bodies you don’t even want to think about. Outsiders aren’t welcome, and no one would tell us a thing. I might pass, but you’d stick out like a nun in a cathouse.”

“I beg your pardon. I can pass for sleazy and deviant if I want to.”

Beau just shook his head. “Not you, Squeak.”

“You know I hate that nickname.” Squeak stood for Squeaky Clean. Beau and Gavin had come up with it when she was in junior high, and they’d used it whenever they thought she was being too goody-goody.

“They’re not even open this time of day. We can go back later tonight, if you want. But we’ll have to dress the parts. Lori can probably help us out. She’s got all kinds of disguises.”

“Really.”

“She’s good at undercover work.” Beau took Aubrey’s arm and led her down the sidewalk. “We’ve been standing in one place too long. Don’t want to attract attention.” They headed away from the pay phone.

“Beau, does this mean I’ve hired you?”

“What?”

“Well, you were just doing me a favor to trace the number, and I appreciate it. But beyond that…” She shrugged. “I know you guys charge a fortune for your services. And I don’t have a fortune.”

His face clouded. “You don’t owe me a damn thing. I happen to have some time to kill, that’s all.”

“What about that Langford kid Ace mentioned? Shouldn’t you be looking for him?”

“I’ve been looking for him.” Frustration rose in Beau’s voice. “I have a lead, but I can’t do anything about it until tomorrow morning. Hey, I don’t tell you how to teach chemistry, okay?”

“Fine.” She determinedly walked ten paces ahead of him. Though she was tempted to call a cab and return to her motel, wash her hands completely of Beau Maddox, she knew she’d be a fool to turn down his help while he was willing to give it. If he made her uncomfortable, it was a small price to pay for getting his services for free.

As she turned the corner, she noticed a couple of young women sitting on a car, drinking sodas and talking in loud voices. They wore extremely short skirts, tight tank tops with no bras, excessive costume jewelry, big hair and tons of makeup. As soon as Aubrey realized what she was looking at, she averted her gaze and quickened her step.

Jeez, right here in broad daylight!

“Hey, Beau!” one of the women called out. Aubrey froze and turned around. Sure enough, Beau had stopped to talk with the women. Should she walk on? Should she stand a discreet distance away and wait for him to finish his chat?

Finally she decided she was being silly and judgmental. They might be prostitutes, but she still owed them simple courtesy. She approached the car, and Beau angled his body out to include her in the group.

“Jodie, Erin, this is my friend, Aub—”

“Dr. Schuyler!” the one called Erin exclaimed. “Oh, my God. I had you for freshman chemistry!”

The other girl, Jodie, smirked. “You took chemistry?”

“Well, I flunked.” Erin turned back to Aubrey. “Remember me?”

“Two years ago,” Aubrey said as the memory came to her. “You sat in the back row and slept.”

Erin smiled broadly. “You do remember. What are you doing hanging out with this guy?” She nudged Beau with her foot.

Beau slid his arm around Aubrey. “What, I’m not allowed to have a respectable girlfriend?”

“Nuh-uh,” Jodie said. “I’m your girlfriend, forever and ever. You promised.”

“I’m not his girlfriend,” Aubrey objected, but in the face of all that overt sex appeal being directed at Beau, she almost wished she could put a claim on him. The feel of his arm around her waist was warm and secure, causing an unwelcome shiver to wiggle up her spine in spite of the afternoon heat.

“Hey, we’re just kidding around,” Erin said, apparently sensing Aubrey’s unease. But Beau kept his arm where it was. Maybe it was a gesture of protection, a sign to these girls that they weren’t supposed to mess with her.

“Hey, Beau, did I hear you were looking for Shelley?” Jodie asked.

Beau shrugged. “Yeah, I was,” he said with seeming disinterest. But the tension suddenly radiating out of his arm and hand was palpable.

“What’s it worth to you?”

“The usual.”

“How about double the usual?”

“How about I tell your brother you’re turning tricks on Chestnut Street?”

“Beau! Okay. Twenty now, and fifty if my tip is good.”

“Sounds reasonable.” He shook her hand, and Jodie adjusted the strap of her tank top. Aubrey realized the transaction had already taken place.

“She’s staying at her aunt’s house, in that new subdivision on Monument Hill. It’s a redbrick house with a broken mailbox.”

“Thanks. I’ll let you know if it pans out.”

“I know you will.”

Beau started to lead Aubrey away, but she hesitated. She looked at Erin, who couldn’t meet her gaze.

“Don’t say it, Dr. Schuyler,” she mumbled. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

When they were a block away, Aubrey finally spoke. “That is so sad. We should be doing something to help them, instead of paying them for tips.”

“Erin’s been dragged off to rehab twice. We can’t force her to change.”

“Like Patti, I guess,” Aubrey said on a sigh. “She didn’t want to change until Sara came along.”

They stopped at a corner for a light, and Aubrey felt light-headed all the sudden. She reached out for a lamppost to steady herself.

Beau looked at her with concern. “When was the last time you ate?”

She had to think about it. She’d eaten a bagel for breakfast, a lifetime ago, and she’d thrown up since then. No wonder she was cranky. “I’m not sure I could eat anything.”

“Sure you can.” He steered her into a pancake house a couple of blocks from the agency. “You can’t do this kind of work without fuel for your brain, not to mention your body.” He nodded to the hostess, then guided Aubrey to a booth in the back. A wispy-haired waitress appeared.