Page 27 of Lord Have Mercy Part Four: Big Son

A realer, deeper fear licked through Tina, then. Shit. Alex. Shit,shit.

“Alex Bonfils?” the woman pressed. “Right?” When Tina hesitated, she took a menacing step forward, leading with the gun.

“Yes. That’s my son. How do you–” She bit off the rest of the sentence when the woman took another step.

“Call him,” the blonde said. “Call your son.”

Tina stared at her a long moment, and realized she was serious. “And tell himwhat? That a woman’s holding a gun on me? Tell my FBI agent son that I’m being held hostage?”

“Call him. Get him here.Now.”

“He’s in Virigina,” Tina said, helplessly, sure she was about to die at the hands of a madwoman.

The nasty, razor-sharp grin returned. “Heh. No, he’s not.”

~*~

The dark-haired prostitute refused to give them anything useful. Tenny bound her hands, stuffed a bit of rag in her mouth, and gave Ava a stern look. “Stay here.”

“I’m going to look–”

“I’m going to look. I’m faster, and I can pick locks better, and I can think faster on my feet if I get caught.” He held up both hands, placatingly, when she scowled. “Okay, it’s not about thinking. It’s about acting. Which you’ve proven completely incapable of doing this afternoon,Mrs. McAllister.”

“Bite me,” she snapped. Then: “Hurry.”

He nodded. “Lock this door behind me. I’ll call through when I’m back.” Then he was gone.

Ava studied the closed door a moment, hands curling and uncurling at her sides.It should be me, she thought.He’s my baby. I should be the one searching for him.

But Tenny was right. He was right a lot more than she wanted to admit, and her wrecking ball approach was likely slowing them down rather than helping them.

Not that she’d admit that at gunpoint.

With a sigh, she turned back to face the interior of the room.

The hooker was sitting on the edge of the bed, hands bound behind her back, thoroughly gagged with the cloth Tenny had brought along for just such a purpose. Her mascara had run from crying, and her eyes flew wide when Ava looked at her. She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose, whimpering, shrinking back on the mattress as best she could without aid of her hands.

Through the haze of numbness she was still relentlessly using to contain the waves of panic and despair that lapped at her insides, a faint curl of satisfaction twisted high in her stomach. This woman was afraid. Afraid of Ava.

She should be.

Ava double-checked the door lock, then sat down at the dressing table’s padded bench, facing the bed, legs crossed.“Okay, then. Now that it’s just us girls, why don’t we have a little chat.”

The girl’s nostrils flared hard.

“I know you can’t talk. You can just nod and shake your head.

“First question – and, word to the wise, I’m going to find out the answers I need whether you provide them or not. But. Well. It’ll be easier for you if you’re honest.”

No doubt this chick had seen her share of awful shit, given her profession, but even so, she looked properly terrified.

“This is an easy one,” Ava continued. “Does Regina Carroll run this place?”

The girl hesitated so long that Ava uncrossed her legs and moved to stand, but then she nodded frantically. Squeezed her eyes shut and let out another whimper.

There, Ava thought, resettling. The dam was broken. “Okay, good. Is she here now?”

That earned a shake. The girl’s eyes cracked open, tears sliding down her cheeks.

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