“The owner was motivated to sell,” Ryker said dryly. “He’s had three deals fall through, and he has already relocated to the Florida sunshine. It wasn’t that difficult.”
Sure it wasn’t.
Denver took a left turn around a series of commercial businesses that were still closed. “I’m not going to ask how you found the money. Did you get the e-mail I sent?”
“Yes. What do you need?”
“I don’t know. When I do, I’ll call.” Denver scanned the roads and the few vehicles already out and about on the dismal morning. “Thanks, Ry.” He hung up.
Noni turned toward him. “What’s going on? What was in the e-mail?” She was finally waking up completely, and he looked seriously tense. A vein pulsed down his neck, and his hands were anything but relaxed on the steering wheel. He held it so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “You need to talk to me,” she said, her heart thundering.
He took another turn, glancing at the GPS in the dash. “I found the auction site for the gang on the dark web. They’re auctioning off the baby, and the bids are up to three hundred thousand dollars.”
Noni’s stomach cramped as if she’d been punched, and she leaned over. “Oh God. Who is bidding?”
“No clue, and the gang doesn’t care.” Denver took another turn down a quiet, icy road.
Noni swallowed several times. “Are you sure it’s Talia?”
“I’m sure,” he said grimly. “Her picture is up, and it’s the same baby. She looks okay.”
“Wait a minute. That’s illegal. Nobody can auction off a baby, especially a known drug gang. This is proof that Richie is still a bad guy. Should we call the FBI?” Noni clasped her hands together. What the hell should they do?
Denver nodded. “That’s one route. We could call the cops.”
Noni tried to wet her too-dry lips. “But?”
“How are they going to get to Richie? You can’t find bidders on the dark web, and whoever wins will be contacted directly.” Denver took another turn out of the main Snowville downtown area.
“So we bid,” she said softly. “Don’t you need special virtual money?”
“Not for this,” Denver said. “They’ll want real cash.”
She didn’t know how to do this. “I don’t have any.”
“I have some but not nearly enough.” Brightly decorated storefronts bracketed them right before he opened the throttle and burst onto the interstate. “We’ll have to bluff and just take them out at the drop point.”
“What if they don’t bring the baby until they see the cash?” she breathed.
His mouth tightened. “Good point. Okay. We’ll have to figure something else out. Maybe I can get that kind of cash. If not, it’ll be the bluff of the century.”
“When is the auction finished?” she asked, her head aching. How was this possible? Where was the baby?
“Tomorrow evening at five, PST,” Denver said, his voice hoarse. “As soon as we get to the safe house, I’ll set up a bidding profile. Well, after I create an identity or two.” He scrubbed a rough hand through his thick hair.
A black sports car whipped by them on the right, fishtailing several times.
“Idiot,” Denver muttered, slowing down. He glanced in the rearview mirror and tensed.
“What?” Noni gasped, twisting to see behind them. A couple of trucks followed them, their lights cutting through the early morning.
Denver’s shoulders settled down, and an odd calmness permeated the vehicle. For some reason that pricked every nerve in Noni’s body to life. Her palms grew sweaty. “What’s happening?” Something definitely was going on.
“Baby? I need you to make sure your seat belt is fastened securely,” Denver said calmly.
She fumbled and double checked the strap across her chest. She gulped. “Okay.”
“Now I need you to plant both feet on the floor and set your spine against the seat. Face forward, don’t twist, and try to somehow relax your body. No tenseness,” he said, his grip visibly loosening on the steering wheel.
