Page 117 of Spooked

“His name is Cássio Elvyn Arruda Novo,” Alexa said. With only Brax, Priest, and Chase in the house, she’d forgone the cartoon avatar once more, and the screen showed her sitting in a bright room with a view of a swimming pool through the French windows behind. “He’s thirty-three years old, and property records indicate that he bought the place in Vila Real seven years ago.”

Before that, it had been a ruin. Dawson and Ari were playing tourist in a nearby village, gushing over the traditional houses that lined the cobbled streets and meandering around the craft market set up in an old bullfighting arena while they ferreted out whatever information they could find. The locals, they reported, didn’t know a whole lot about thecara rico presunçosowho lived at the target property, but they didn’t seem to like him much.

“You’re sure it’s the right man?” Brax asked Alexa.

Apparently, Portuguese parents were limited to a government-approved list of forenames, so there were a surprisingly large number of men with the same name. On the plus side, there were no children in Portugal named Klamydia or Vellveeta or Ebolah. Brax had gone to school with a boy named Dijon.

“Ninety percent sure. I found two other Cássio Arruda Novos, but they both live in the south, and one of them is in a care home.”

“He’s arrogant.” Priest was wearing another Hawaiian shirt from his seemingly limitless collection. He’d arrived at their temporary base of operations soon after Brax’s group, bringing with him several hard plastic cases whose contents he’d declined to reveal. “Cássio Novo, Casa Nova. He’s playing with us. He thinks he’s untouchable.”

Chase had found them a short-term rental in the area, another former farmhouse. Fortunately, such properties were common, and the isolation made them ideal for the team’s purposes. Novo had clearly come to the same conclusion because he’d holed up in a similar home five miles closer to the Spanish border. After Indi’s long ride, they’d ended up in northern Portugal. The nearest city was Chaves, but it seemed a million miles away from their location out in the sticks. Chase was busy ensuring the refrigerator was stocked with food and that everyone had enough insect repellent.

“Hey, I think I found a picture of him.” Alexa put it on the screen, and Brax found himself staring at a group graduation photo. “Bottom row, third from the left. The age fits. This Novo has a master’s degree in software engineering from the University of Porto, but I guess he found an easier way to make money.”

Brax had been trying to contain his fury for the past several days, but he was struggling. Every detail that came out stoked his anger. Silvio had turned to people trafficking out of semi-desperation and a reluctance to lose his home, but Cássio Novo had led a privileged life. He’d been blessed with a good education, and yet he’d decided to sell women instead.

“Not for long,” Priest said. “He’ll be in jail by Friday.”

Friday, and today was Tuesday. Which meant that Indi would have to endure three and a half more days of captivity.

“Can’t we go in sooner?”

“Not without compromising the chances of success. We need to map out the estate, gain an understanding of the security measures in place, and identify the people present and their routines. Otherwise, we could get an unexpected surprise.”

“I have a surprise,” Alexa told us. “Novo’s father is in prison for killing his mother.”

Priest quirked an eyebrow. “This is getting more interesting.”

Alexa had found a newspaper article dated ten years ago. The text was in Portuguese, but she’d run it through a translator, and the accompanying picture showed the same face as the graduation photo. Was Brax looking at the man who’d snatched Indi? He scanned the details.

Today, Fabricio Novo was found guilty of the murder of his wife, Margarida Arruda, following a trial that lasted six weeks. The defence was a surprising one—Novo claimed that his wife had driven him to stab her sixteen times through years of mental abuse. In a shocking twist, Novo’s son, Cássio, took his father’s side, testifying under oath that he’d heard his parents arguing on the night of Margarida’s death, despite the fact that forensic evidence strongly suggested she was asleep immediately prior to the attack. During his court appearance, Cássio was reprimanded by the judge after he referred to the prosecutor as “that feminist bitch” and accused her of ruining an innocent man’s life. The jury’s decision was unanimous.

“Hoo boy,” Priest said. “Our suspect has a temper.”

Alexa nodded her agreement. “And a hatred of women. A winning combination.”

Fuck. Why hadn’t Novo rung alarm bells in the past?

“We need to get Indi and Meera out of there,” Brax said.

“And we will.” Priest checked his watch. “I have two more men arriving in the next half hour, and after I’ve briefed them, we’ll head over to Casa Nova. Jez and Tulsa have eyes on the place. We believe the women are being held in a barn out back.”

A barn? They were being kept like animals? As soon as this was over, Brax was taking Indi on a five-star vacation. A luxury hotel suite, gourmet food, and a private spa. Paris, perhaps?

“Who are the two men? I got the impression your whole team was female.”

Priest pulled a face and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Yeah, what the fuck was I thinking?” Then he shrugged. “I borrowed the men. You’ll receive an invoice from Blackwood Security. Don’t quibble over the price—I had to call in a favour to get them at short notice.”

“They’re competent?”

“They come highly recommended.”

Since he left Blackstone House, Brax had fought to maintain control over his life. He’d succeeded in business, and with Carissa out of the picture, his personal life was back on track too. Or at least, it had been. Having to take a back seat and let others make the decisions added another layer of discomfort to an already hellish situation. But he knew he didn’t have the right skill set for this particular job.

“Then I’ll pay whatever’s necessary.”

CHAPTER42

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