Faceless (Sinister Secrets Book 2) by Candle Sutton (best motivational novels txt) 📕

was no match for guys twice her weight. Especially with the injury to her foot.

Tears burned her eyes. From the pain in her foot or the frustration of the situation, she wasn’t sure.

By the time she reached the sofa, her foot hurt so badly she could barely stand.

Was it infected? Sure, that doctor had bandaged it, but did he treat it properly?

If they were going to kill her anyway, probably not. In fact, probably the only reason it was even bandaged was to keep her from leaving DNA evidence for investigators to find.

Stretching out on the sofa, she propped up her foot on the arm and stared at the bleak white ceiling.

She was trapped.

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Dak jerked as his cell phone chirped. His hand hit his coffee cup, sending it tumbling across the desk. The lid kept coffee from going everywhere, although some seeped around the hole in the lid.

Righting the cup with his left hand, he answered the phone with his right. “Lakes.”

“Agent Lakes.” The man on the other end identified himself as the agent currently on surveillance duty. “Got something you might find interesting.”

“I’m listening.”

“A guy just entered the warehouse. I think it’s Mitch Taylor.”

Dak sat up a little straighter.

They’d given the surveillance team pictures of the abductees and Mitch Taylor, but he hadn’t really expected it to pay off. “You’re sure?”

“As sure as I can be from up here. He went in a few minutes ago but hasn’t come back out.”

Had they found Taylor’s workplace? “Did someone let him in?”

“Nope. He let himself in. Looked like he had a key.”

A key. Taylor either worked there or knew someone who did.

Either way, it wasn’t a coincidence that Taylor was connected to that same warehouse. “Hey, thanks. Keep me posted, okay?”

“You know it.”

The call ended and Dak punched in JD’s extension. “Anything on that warehouse yet?”

A pause. “You know it’s only been about an hour, right?”

“Mitch Taylor was spotted going inside. We need to know who’s using that warehouse and why.”

“It’s leased to HM Import and Export, but I think that’s a front. The company does small business on paper, not enough to warrant a warehouse that large or expensive.”

It was a start. Dak knew the answer to the next question before he asked it. “Who owns it?”

“John Smith.”

“Original.” Why wasn’t he surprised that it was owned by an obvious alias?

“Tracking down tax records now, but John Smith supposedly lives in South Africa, so that complicates things.”

“Keep me posted.” Dak hung up the phone and grabbed some tissues to mop up the small puddle of coffee on his desk.

The owner of the warehouse had done a good job at covering his tracks, but they’d piece it all together. It was only a matter of time.

But time was something Kevyn likely didn’t have.

They needed answers. Now.

Mitch Taylor was his best bet. Maybe if Mitch saw the picture Kevyn had sent him, he’d start talking. Since the man was seen exiting the same warehouse Mitch was now in, he had to know who it was.

Surely he’d talk if it would save Kevyn’s life.

Was tipping his hand the best move they had?

Dak paced back over to the window to inquire of God.

A few minutes later and he had his answer.

He was going to talk to Mitch.

₪   ₪   ₪

A crash sounded from somewhere in the building. Mitch jerked, his fingers hitting several keys by mistake. After clearing out the incorrect numbers, he pushed back from his chair.

Enough already.

It sounded like the warehouse was being deconstructed. Time to see what was going on that was making so much noise and disrupting his concentration.

He exited his office and strode down the short hallway.

The hallway spilled into the main part of the warehouse, where a dozen men scurried about.

The latest shipment sat by the far wall, untouched. The conveyer belt was in pieces and strewn about the room. Four men disassembled the shelving units they’d installed six months ago.

What in the world…?

No sign of Tio, but he spotted Zane loading parts of the conveyer belt into a large crate.

He dodged boxes and a section of the conveyer belt to reach Zane’s side. “What’s going on?”

Zane barely glanced at him. “We’re moving operations.”

Moving? “Tio never mentioned that to me.”

Zane straightened and looked at Mitch. “You’ll have to take it up with him.”

Oh, he would. They had a good operation here. Great location. With shipments on the way, shipments that would need to be redirected if they moved.

What was Tio thinking?

“Where is he?”

“I’m not his secretary.” Zane’s words came out on a growl. “Call him and find out yourself.”

Mitch whirled and stomped back to his office.

While Zane had never been overly friendly, this hostility was new. And unwarranted.

Of greater concern than Zane’s attitude was this nonsense about moving. That, and the fact that Tio hadn’t even discussed the issue with him first. They were supposed to be partners! Equal balance in decision-making.

He slammed his office door and snatched his phone from his desk, bringing up Tio’s number.

Tio answered on the third ring.

No time for pleasantries. Mitch cut straight to the point. “What the heck is going on?”

“Good morning to you, too.” Irritation sliced Tio’s words.

“You’re packing up the warehouse?”

“Your fault.” Tio grumbled. “The FBI’s been poking around the dock. They’re probably watching it right now.”

The FBI. “I don’t know how they found us, but it’s not because of me. There’s nothing on paper tying me to this place and no one’s followed me.”

The argument sounded logical. So why couldn’t he even convince himself?

Tio snorted. “So it’s coincidence that they start poking around at the same time that you contact your FBI