Page 10 of Rami

“I remember.” Rami nodded. Gigi had been adamant that this was a big clue. But unless they could see the woman’s face or place her voice to a name, it meant shit.

“So I called my guy, Simon, in the missing persons unit of the police department. He said there’s been a few similar reportings across Washington state and California—woman approaches from a van talking about her missing dog. Some people got away or were interrupted by bystanders but felt that the incident was weird enough to report.”

“All right. So they’ve tried this before. That’s not shocking.” Rami tapped his index finger on the table.

“No shit.” August pulled his tablet closer and moved his fingers over the screen then flipped it around to show Rami and Toth. “This woman was spotted in Baja, California, near the Mexican border. One of her recent failed attempts, on a nineteen-year-old girl, was reported with a license plate number. Surveillance footage found her at a gas station. She must’ve been spooked because not long after, the car turned up abandoned.”

Interest surged through Rami, and he motioned August to move the screen closer. On it was a woman with long, curly hair standing at a gas pump. She was stout, with a heavy middle, and had a rigid stance to her. Like a horse ready to bolt.

August swiped the screen, and the woman’s mug shot took up the frame. “Name’s Marty Hilliard. Forty-three years old and has a history—possession of heroin and procurement in the sex industry.”

Tension collected at the back of Rami’s throat. Anger made his vision blur. What the woman did with her own body was her choice, but if she subjected innocent women like Ivy to sex trafficking—which she sure as fuck had—he’d lose his shit.

“Where is she now?” Toth barked.

Rami itched with urgency. He didn’t need any more convincing. August was right. This was Ivy’s kidnapper. Had to be.

“That we don’t know.”

“What do the police have on her?” Rami asked.

“Looks like she’s seeing this guy,” August brought up another photo on the screen of a gangly man. The pitted scars on his cheeks and partially visible rotten teeth indicated heavy drug use.

“Name’s Wayne Debois and he’s got numerous drug charges,” August continued. “One charge for attempted rape.”

Rami’s blood pressure hit a dangerous level.

August lowered the tablet to the table. “Simon told me they made the connection to Marty this morning and found out she’s got a son. He’s already been questioned and claims to know nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Rami growled. A few hours ago, he hadn’t wanted to touch this case with a twenty-foot pole. Now, he was growing more invested by the minute.

“If we could get the son’s phone records—”

Rami lifted his hand and looked at Toth. “How good are you at getting phone records?”

Toth’s mouth morphed into a smirk. “Faster than the cops.”

August hooked up an eyebrow. “Yeah? How so?”

“He doesn’t need a fucking warrant.” Rami grinned and rocked back in his seat. Toth had access to a lot of tech stuff through his formerly long-lost brothers. Thanks to Toth’s connections, Rami had been able to add facial recognition, hacking, phone tracking, and many other techniques to their repertoire of tools. Not that they needed those things too often, given that their business focused on bodyguard services, but they’d come in handy more than once. Especially in the case of finding Savannah.

“All right.” Rami looked pointedly at August. “Let Taschen and the interns know they might have to work doubles the next couple days. If we get a solid lead on Marty’s location, we’ll need to move fast.”

“Copy that,” August said, his stance soldier-ready.

Toth tented his fingers beneath his chin. Rami didn’t need to be a mind reader to guess he was anxious about leaving Savannah. Shit.

He shot his friend a glance and gave him a reassuring nod. They’d figure something out. He flicked his wrist to read the time: 12:18p.m. “Toth, I need you to get the son’s phone records. August, give Toth the kid’s name and all the details you have.”

August nodded. “Then what?”

“If Toth gets any leads from the records, he’ll give them to me and I’ll do some digging. Might need your help with that.”

“What about Gigi?” August asked, tension furrowing his brow.

Rami grimaced. “I don’t want to get her hopes up. Tell her we’ll be working around the clock and will update her accordingly.”

August relaxed a bit, as if the reassurance that they’d make this search the priority had eased his mind. But his downcast focus revealed uncertainty. He scratched his head. “It’d be best if you called Gigi.”

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