Caught
Caught
Chapter 1
Erika POV
Red and blue lights flickered across the buildings surrounding me and sirens echoed down the alley, instantly making me tense. My heart rate picked up as panic set in. Fuck, this wasn’t happening. I couldn’t get caught now, not when I was so close. The barely conscious man at my feet had given me the information I needed after I persuaded him to talk by breaking several of his bones with a hammer. I didn't feel sorry for the scumbag, he deserved everything he got. He was involved with human trafficking and was personally responsible for several, rapes, assaults, and murders.
My eyes snapped over my shoulder to see the police cruiser blocking the alley. Two cops jumped out of the vehicle and stood behind their doors, drawing guns from their holsters and pointing them down the lane in my direction. I didn't waste any time before taking off in a full sprint down the alley parallel to the one they were blocking, it was a T-shaped lane. Unfortunately, I only made it a few steps before a second cop car turned into the lane ahead of me, blocking my exit. Shit.
I didn't stop. Still fueled by adrenaline, my body took off in the opposite direction. It was my last chance at freedom. I was almost there—only a few more feet. I could see the lights ahead from the busy New York Street, illuminating the night.
Sadly, my hopes of escaping came to a screeching halt when a third cruiser stopped at the mouth of the lane. I was surrounded, and there was nowhere for me to go.
"There's no way out. Drop the hammer and put your hands in the air." A deep, authoritative voice echoed through a loudspeaker down the alley.
My head snapped around, desperately trying to find another way out. There had to be one, I couldn't go to jail, not until I killed the man responsible for my sister's death. After that, I didn't care what happened to me. They could lock me up and throw away the key for all I cared.
I spotted a large metal door and yanked on the handle, only to find it locked. I tried two more doors, but they also wouldn't open. I slammed my fist in frustration against the last door, causing a painful hiss to leave my lips. I looked down at my knuckles, blood oozed from a fresh cut.
Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention. The cops were slowly moving in on me. All six of them still had their guns pointed in my direction.
My shoulders sagged in defeat. I wasn't getting out of this mess and was likely going to jail for a very long time. It didn't matter that the guy I beat up deserved it; They would still lock me up.
The hammer fell from my hand as I accepted defeat.
The world around me started to spin as the sad reality sunk in. Several voices screamed for me to put my hands in the air, but they all sounded so distant. I remained frozen in my spot completely numb and void. I wasn’t going to get the justice my sister deserved. My eyes prickled with unshed tears, knowing I had failed her.
A hand gripped my wrist and yanked it behind my back before I felt a cold, hard pinch from a cuff slamming into my skin. It was only a fraction of a second before my other arm was wrenched back and cuffed.
"Search her and bring her back to headquarters, Jackson." One of the cops ordered. I didn’t bother looking for the source of the voice, it didn’t matter anymore, nothing did.
The hand secured around my bicep tightened before the cop named Jackson guided me down the alleyway toward one of the police cars.
"You've done it this time, Erika. Not even your sister will be able to help you." Jackson sighed, his voice laced with disapproval.
I wasn’t surprised that he knew who I was, most cops did since my older sister, Olivia was a detective in the NYPD human trafficking section, and we looked almost like twins. She transferred to the section after our baby sister was taken by the most extensive human trafficking ring in the city and eventually murdered.
I had gotten myself into trouble with the law a few times over the years, and Olivia helped me on several occasions. But none of those charges compared to how serious the ones I was facing now. I knew she wouldn’t be able to do anything for me this time. The guy I beat up would probably need plastic surgery for some of his injuries I caused.
I was close to Olivia growing up, but we drifted apart over the years. Our sister’s murder caused an even bigger wedge in our relationship. We might have shared the same thirst for vengeance but disagreed on how it should be executed. I wanted to make them all bleed, while Olivia, the law-abiding citizen, wanted them locked up in jail. The problem was, men like Nikolay Petrov held too much power in this City, and proper justice would never be served if she got her way. Half the judges were corrupt and could easily be bought for the right price and I couldn’t risk that happening.
Once we reached the cruiser, Jackson leaned me over the vehicle's hood before kicking my feet apart and searching my body. When he was satisfied, he opened the vehicle's back door and guided me inside before reading me my rights. I barely heard a word, too lost in my own thoughts. The door slammed shut before I leaned my head against the window and let out a heavy sigh. I felt utterly exhausted.
Once we reached the NYPD Headquarters, I was processed and lodged into a cell. It didn't take long before boredom kicked in.
I must have dozed off at some point because the sound of metal clinking against metal made my eyes snap open. I glanced at the cell door to see a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair dressed in a police uniform, unlocking my door.
"Let's go, Miss Hall." He ordered his face void of emotion.
"Go where?" I asked with a curious frown.
"The investigators want to speak with you," He replied, and I could tell by his tone I wasn’t getting any more information out of him so I didn’t bother asking any more questions.
I stood up from the sad excuse of a bed and walked over to the cell door. The cop held up a pair of handcuffs, silently asking for my hands. I let out a sigh before extending my arms in front of me. Once the cuffs were secured around my wrists, he guided me down the hall. We reached an elevator, and he pressed number six. It only took a few minutes before the doors opened, and we both stepped inside.
We rode the elevator in silence all the way up to the sixth floor. The doors opened, and we walked out into a large office. There were desks and cubicles everywhere. Plain-clothe cops moved around without sparing a glance in my direction.
I was led into a small interrogation room that had nothing but a table, three chairs, and a camera in the corner with a flashing red light next to the lens, indicating it was recording. Once I took a seat in one of the chairs, the cop uncuffed my wrists and left the room without saying another word.
I should have been nervous, but I wasn’t. The damage was already done and there was nothing I could do to get out of this situation. I had accepted my fate even though it broke my heart knowing I failed my baby sister, Natalia. For the second time today, tears pooled in my eyes. I took a deep breath to prevent the floodgates from opening. The last thing I needed was to show these cops any sign of weakness. I had very few weaknesses besides my sisters. They meant the world to me even though we weren’t as close as we were growing up. I loved them both dearly and I missed Natalia more than anything.
We grew up in foster care after our parents were killed in a car accident when Natalia was only two. Olivia was the good girl who always followed the rules, hence becoming a cop. I was the rebellious one, but with street smarts and a knack for computers. Natalia on the other hand was the vulnerable one. She was easily influenced, and I kick myself every day for not paying closer attention to her while we were growing up. She started hanging around the wrong crowd and not long after, started dabbling in drugs and alcohol. By the time I realized what was happening it was too late, she was already in over her head. I tried to get her clean, but those assholes came for her before I could. I wasn’t strong enough back then to save her and I still carry that heavy guilt on my shoulders. I let my baby sister down and because of me, she lost her life. A week after she had been taken, I got the devastating news that she was dead.
I snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the doorknob rattling. The door swung open, and two men walked into the room wearing black suits. The first guy appeared to be in his mid-forties, of average height and slim build. He had brown slicked-back hair and dark brown eyes. The second guy was in his mid-thirties, tall with a thick muscular build. He had short brown hair and green eyes. They both wore blank expressions on their faces as they took their time assessing me.
“Miss Hall, I’m Detective Paulson and this is Detective Clark. We need to ask you a few questions.” The older of the two stated.
“Listen, I know how this works, and I won’t be telling you anything. You mind as well bring me back to my cell.” I sighed as I leaned back in my chair.
“You might not have anything to say, Miss Hall, but we do. So, you’re going to sit there and listen for as long as we want to talk,” The guy named Paulson spat out as he took a seat in one of the chairs across from me. The other guy followed his lead and sat next to him.
They were both posturing and flexing their muscles, it was clear they wanted to intimidate me, but it wasn’t going to work. I had dealt with enough shit on the streets that not many people intimidated me. I crossed my arms over my chest and raised an eyebrow, silently letting them know their game wasn’t working with me.
“All right, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let’s start over. Miss Hall, can I call you Erika?” Clark asked, he seemed to have changed his approach slightly because he now wore a soft, almost friendly smile on his face.
“You can call me whatever you want.” I shrugged.
“The word on the street is that the guy you nearly beat to death today works for Nikolay Petrov. He’s a low-level pimp and street dealer,” He started and paused to see if I would react. I kept my expression neutral and waited for him to continue since I already knew what he was saying.
“Anyways, we heard that Bobby, the guy you beat up, and his crew were recently tasked with sourcing out and kidnapping a dozen new girls for Petrov.” He added and once again paused to assess my reaction. I didn’t give anything away, simply stared blankly at him.
His information might have been accurate, but I got a lot more out of Bobby, thanks to my hammer and I had no intentions of sharing that information with them.
“We’re trying to pinpoint where Petrov’s main sorting house is for all the new girls,” He said, his voice sounding hopeful.
When Petrov’s guys kidnapped young, vulnerable girls, they took them to a designated location where they sorted them into two groups. The virgins and the non-virgins. Once they were sorted the virgins were brought to a separate location where they were eventually auctioned off to the highest bidders, while the non-virgins were sent to brothels, strip clubs, and the streets, forced to work as prostitutes.
Bobby was just a low-level pimp tasked with sourcing out new girls and kidnapping them, he was so low in the ranks that he didn’t know where the sorting house was. He did give me the name of the guy responsible for driving the girls to the meet location. That location wasn’t the sorting house, it was a location where Petrov could ensure they hadn’t been followed. Once that was confirmed, a different crew took control of the girls and drove them to the sorting house.
“What does this have to do with me?” I asked pointedly.
Clark let out a heavy sigh as he stood from his chair and walked over to the camera before pressing a button that turned off the red flashing light. Interesting. Now he had my full attention as I watched him curiously.
“Listen, Erika, let’s cut the crap. We know you got information out of Bobby today and we want to know what it is,” Clark said bluntly as he returned to his seat.
“Even if I did get info out of him, why would I give it to you?” I bit back.
“Do you realize how many women get kidnapped off the streets every fucking day? Sold into the sex trade or killed?” Paulson gritted out and his words hit a nerve that broke through my cool composure.
“No shit Sherlock. Remember, my baby sister was one of them?” I spat back while glaring daggers at the asshole.
“Listen, Erika. We want justice for your sister as much as you do, that’s why we brought you up here to talk.” Clark sigh. It was clear he was trying to defuse the tension in the room.
“We want you to work for us. If you get us the location of that house, we can make those charges go away,” He added, at first, I was too busy glaring at his partner to register what he said, but the minute his words sunk in, my attention turned to him.
“Does my sister know about this?” I asked with an eyebrow raised.
“No, she doesn’t want you anywhere near this investigation,” Paulson admitted, and I nodded.
My sister knew I was obsessed with the idea of vengeance, and she hounded me to let it go, to let the justice system deal with those that hurt our sister, but I couldn’t. My need for revenge was the most important thing in my life and no one would stop me from getting it, not even her.
“I don’t have the sorting house, but I can get it,” I replied.
I didn’t want to work with the police, but if it got me out of jail, then maybe I needed to consider it. The cops could have their sorting house; I was more interested in killing the one who runs it and anyone else involved in my sister’s death.
“How?” Paulson asked suspiciously.
“I got a name from Bobby. The guy who’s responsible for driving the kidnapped girls to the meet spot tomorrow. Petrov’s tight-lipped about the location of his sorting house; Only a select few of his men know where it is. He has his low-level guys meet at a specific location where his goons can ensure they weren’t followed. From there, a different crew takes the girls to the house.” I explained, hoping it was enough information for them to believe me without giving up any names or locations.
“If this guy doesn’t have the location of the house, how do you plan on getting it?” Clark asked skeptically.
“I have my ways of turning people compliant,” I said with a cocky smirk, thinking back to how tough Bobby acted before I took that first swing with the hammer. It didn’t take much to turn the guy into a blubbering mess. After the fifth hit, he would have done whatever I said.
“And what would you have him do?” Paulson asked, now sounding curious.
“Switch one of the kidnapped girls out for me. You put a tracker somewhere in my clothes and when the tracker stops for a decent amount of time, you’ve found your location,” I replied, a victorious grin spreading across my face. I could tell they were desperate enough for this location that they would seriously consider my plan.
Not to mention, most cops were so eager to move up the ranks in their organization that they would do just about anything to solve a big case like this one. I was betting these two were already picturing the awards and praise they would receive for taking down such a large-scale operation like Petrov’s human traffic ring.
“That’s too dangerous,” Clark scoffed, but his words held no finality and the conflicted look in his eyes told me he was considering my offer.
“For me maybe, but I can handle myself,” I replied with a shrug.
“You realize you would be completely unprotected until you made it to the sorting house, and we raided the place, right?” Paulson asked, seeming far more interested in my plan than Clark.
“As I said, I can handle myself. You worry about getting a team ready to kick the door in when we arrive at that sorting house, and I’ll worry about staying alive,” I replied confidently.
“There must be another way. “Clark shook his head in disapproval.
“You better decide soon. They’re moving the girls tomorrow and I still need to find the driver and convince him why he needs to help me,” I reminded them, my voice sounding bored.
“We need a minute to discuss,” Clark sighed before he and Paulson left the room.
Something told me that Paulson was on board with my plan. Now, could he convince Clark to go along with it? I sure as hell hoped so, I needed out of jail, like yesterday.
