Page 82 of Ricochet

He hooked my chin with his finger and glided his thumb across my lips, staring at them intently. “I’m more afraid that you wouldn’t,” he said, kissing me. “We’ll try again then set up some targets.”

“And if I hit them?”

His brow kicked up. “Perhaps I’ll keep you tied to my bed and administer your reward over the next few days.”

A shiver hit my spine at the thought.

CHAPTER 35

Chief Cox

Cox sat in his office, his finger hovering over the mouse, before reluctantly opening the email that’d been sent to his personal account. The sender’s name stuck out from all the other shit mail he still had to weed through, written in bold caps, encrypted.

From: ANONYMOUS

Subject: EX

I’d like to discuss a transaction, as I have information you may find useful.

One week ago, a girl was rescued from traffickers at the Pantheon Motel. I’d like to know her name. Should you choose to provide that information to me, I’ve been made privy to E4E’s next victim.

Perhaps you might decide that a surprise is in order.

Not a single identifying clue existed anywhere in the email. Odd that the mysterious sender would inquire about the girl, whose name had been withheld by the media, as a victim of a sex crime, but what did Cox care? He himself had been the one to make the drop at the eastside Palms Motel, when he’d picked up the runaway from the streets a couple weeks back. In fact, he’d been her first customer, broke her in right on the spot, before threatening that if she ever told anyone, he’d kill her family. When she surfaced in the media, Cox just about had a goddamn heart attack.

Fortunately for him, she’d suffered some traumatic amnesia bullshit tied to her torment, leaving her unable to recall how she’d been picked up, let alone most of her abuses thereafter. If some bastard was ambitious enough to kill her off, so be it. Cox had alibis and connections. Her ‘stage name’ was all that most of the involved parties had, anyway.

Cox hit ‘reply’ and typed a single response: Sapphire. Dragging the mouse to the top of the screen, he prepared to exit the account, when a completely new email bounced back.

He clicked on the second ANONYMOUS in bold and frowned.

From: ANONYMOUS

Subject: EX

The Palms Motel.

Room 313

You’ll find the next victim.

A sharp pain struck Cox’s chest like a vice grip closing in on his ribcage. He slapped a hand to his heart and attempted deep breaths through the short pants. Fucking angina. Knocking papers to the floor, he rifled through the drawer beside him and grabbed his Nitro tabs, popping two pills beneath his tongue.

The pressure gradually dissolved with the tabs, and Cox sucked in deep breaths through his nose.

Room 313 had been rented out by Jonathan and his girlfriend, Theresa, as a second location to sell the girls.

With trembling hands, Cox replied.

Who are you?

An eternity passed before it became clear that the sender had no intentions of identifying himself. Cox slammed his fist against the desk before grabbing his jacket.

***

With cautious steps, Cox approached the room of the old, rundown shithole he’d frequented a few times. His hand instinctively rested on his gun holster, and as the door with the faded numbers came into view, he slipped the weapon out, trigger finger at the ready.

After a quick glance at the surrounding shuttered rooms, Cox placed an ear to the door, jumping back when it clicked open. He lifted his gun and pushed it in farther, giving way to darkness inside, as if the room stood empty.