Augusta relaxed a bit, heading for the van. No one besides those Rachel talked to would know about the cousin. She could trust these guys. The four officers around Ray’s car started to draw in, watching all around for danger until she was safely in the back of the van.
Safe.
The kind officer smiled as she got into the vehicle and gestured to a side bench where she could sit. He took a spot in front of her, and the four officers outside came in one by one and closed the doors behind them as they sat.
Augusta realized that she was trapped. She was cut off from the driver by a thick screen, and now she was stuck in the back with five men.
Officers.
Are they?
It struck her suddenly that there were no seats, no seat belts. Surely, it would be legal if this were a police vehicle. If it was a tactical van, then there would be equipment like vests and cuffs as well as weapons. The van was empty and kind of dirty looking. The outside was unmarked, not a single insignia to be seen.
Oh, fuck.
She eyed the five men, and suddenly, their faces didn’t seem so friendly anymore. The one who had done most of the talking had a big smile on his face, but it looked cruel, not comforting.
It looks triumphant. Like he just won a big score.
Augusta’s breath staggered in her throat as she noticed details about the guys that she hadn’t seen before. None of them had introduced themselves, and she hadn’t really seen the badges they flashed. Their uniforms looked slightly wrong too.
“Who … who did you say you were, again?” she asked.
The officer across from her smiled. “I didn’t.”
“Can I make a phone call?”
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he said, his grin turning cold and savage but still full of pleasure. It looked like he lived for this … for underhanded oppression, subjecting others to his will.
In a panic, Augusta contemplated the back of the van, wondering if she could push past the guys, open the door, and jump out while it was moving. That was when she noticed one of the officers’ shirts had short sleeves.
And he had the Virgin Mary tattoo on his arm.
Chapter18
Augusta
Augusta smiled, covering her fear. They hadn’t done anything to her yet, and maybe they wouldn’t if she played along. She folded her hands and sat back on the wooden bench. The guys had pretty much dropped their pretense, but she pretended not to notice.
Where the fuck are we going? I’d bet anything that it isn’t a police station.
For a few seconds, Augusta drifted on the happy possibility that she was completely wrong, and they actually were cops. The van would pull up at a well-lit, busy station with cops and detectives overflowing in all the small rooms. Someone would make her a cup of coffee while a deputy took a statement and asked if she needed medical attention. Then she’d be under police protection until the thing was solved.
We’ll be able to tell Rachel I’m just fine, and she doesn’t have to worry.
Rachel!
Her eyes snapped open, and she looked around the van again at the guys’ faces. They said Rachel had tipped them off. Did that mean they had been in contact with her? Augusta’s stomach twisted painfully as she thought of the possibility that her friend could be dead.
Take it easy … anyone could find out that the two of us are friends and use her name.
Still, her fear kept eating at her. The idea that someone else could get hurt in this ordeal was just too much to bear.
The men stayed silent as the van swayed through the streets and Augusta became more and more disturbed with every minute that passed. She was certain they weren’t officers, anyway, but the lack of talk underlined it in bold print.
When the van finally slowed down, Augusta sat up, trying to look through the windows. The guy in front of her smirked with so much amusement she sat back down again, staring at her feet. She was sure they were going to kill her. She had to fight for her freedom alone, Ray wasn’t going to find her. The jolting of the vehicle almost threw her to the floor. The guys were gentle as they helped her out of the van, their politeness obviously fake and forced … even mocking. One of them grabbed her arms as they turned to walk into the nearby building.
It was dull, dark, and filthy. The windows were covered with so much grime they were indistinguishable from the walls. The only color was the bright, neon lighting above the door that flashed the words “Second Skin” in constantly changing hues.