Err on the Side of Violence: Terribly Acronymed Detective Club Series (Book 3)

Chapter Fifty-Two: Rachel, Sunday

Rachel dialled Detective Pak again while Joe, Al and Lauren watched her, horrified. When he answered, she cried, "They have Logan!"

"What?" Pak said. "Is that you, Rachel?"

"Yes! They took Logan! Right under our noses! Oh, God, I'm such an idiot!"

"Slow down, Rachel. Tell me what happened."

"Uh... okay... where do I begin? We're here at the resort, just like I told you we were doing... about that: how did they know we'd be here? The only people I told were our families, and you guys. Do you have a mole in your department?"

Pak was silent for a moment. "That's a very good question, Rachel, and one we'll have to explore later. For now, keep going."

"Okay. So, we were using the pool here at the resort, and Logan struck up a conversation with a group of girls who we thought were tourists staying at the resort. He became friends with them, and yesterday they spent the day together. Everything went fine. Then today Logan went out with them again, but when I tried to contact him to bring him back so we could go home and see the damage to the house, I couldn't reach him. Luckily I asked Logan for a number for one of the girls yesterday in case I couldn't reach his phone--"

"Good call," Pak interrupted.

"But when I called that number, I found there wasn't a sixteen-year-old Ukrainian girl on the other end of the line, but a much older woman who was definitely not Ukrainian."

"Did you say these girls were Ukrainian?"

"Yeah."

"Shit," he breathed. "They were probably plants put there to lure Logan away from you."

"You're probably right, because that's what happened. I should have insisted on talking to the girls' parents! If I had, we might have uncovered the whole conspiracy. I asked about it, but Logan looked so horrified that I backed off."

Pak was silent for a moment as he considered her words. "I don't know if you would have figured it out, Rachel. You would have met an adult if you insisted on it, I'm sure. You can't just check in a group of minors to a hotel room. There has to be someone of age to sign for it and provide a credit card. The 'parent' might very well have been the girls' pimp."

Rachel gasped. "Did you say pimp?"

"Unfortunately, yes. They were probably underage trafficked girls, brought into this country by the people we're looking for."

"Jesus," she breathed. "You mean like... child prostitutes?"

"I'm afraid so."

Here she was, worried about Logan's safety, when the girls luring him away were probably coerced into doing it, being far from home without their own parents to save them. Her privilege made her feel wretched. "So, these criminals, they're Ukrainian?"

"They're a United Nations of crime, Rachel. You don't have to limit yourself to one ethnic group. Money will bring all sorts of people together in common cause." He paused and then asked, "Did this woman tell you her name?"

"No, but she did say she was his aunt. I wonder if it's this Auntie Kathy Emma mentioned."

"Birth name, Katherine Marie McTeague. So, we've been putting the pieces together over the past month, and we can say this: if McTeague has Logan, then he's not going to die, at least not yet."

Rachel stood straighter, feeling not so faint as she had after she'd hung up with her. "I think you're going to have to explain that. You've given me hope, but I'm still worried."

"Let me ask you something first. Why are you calling me?"

Rachel blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry? Did I dial the wrong number? Didn't I call the police?"