had a mind of her own and the money their parents had left. She had reached the age of majority and could make reservations without her sister’s consent. And she had.
That gut feeling had proved right.
Within minutes of receiving the call, Natalie had hit the number for her former employer, Royce Fontaine, and asked for help.
As the head of the Stealth Operations Specialists, he could help her as no one else could.
“Natalie, are you ready to come back to work for us?” He’d chuckled. “Travel journalism too tame?”
“Royce, I need your help.”
The laughter ceased. “Name it. We’re here for you.”
She’d explained the situation and paused for him to digest the information.
“I’ll run a scan on the area to see if there are any other occurrences of missing women,” Royce told her. “You’re right to be suspicious.”
“Let me know what you find. In the meantime, I’m headed to Cancun.”
“Will do,” Royce said. “I’ll send Lance Johnson out on the private jet with the equipment you’ll need to keep you wired so that we can find you if you run into difficulty.”
“Thanks, Royce. I knew I could count on you.”
“Anytime. I had Lance lined up to take on another mission tomorrow, but I can take it myself.”
“I hate to pull you from other important assignments—”
“Nat, we’re talking about your sister. Family comes first. That’s why I’m sending Lance. Technically he’s as good as Geek and a better shot if you need backup.”
“Good.” Natalie’s mind had already been five steps ahead, working through everything she had to accomplish before leaving for Mexico. “I don’t expect any cooperation from the Mexican government or police.”
“Look, why don’t you fly in the corporate jet with Lance? It’ll save you time and money.”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking I need to perform this mission undercover. I might get more answers that way.”
“Fair enough. But you’ll get there faster on the SOS plane than flying commercial. I can have Lance dropped at a different airport. He’ll meet up with you later. That way you arrive separately.”
“Agreed. As long as I’m in Cancun by tomorrow.”
“You will be.”
While Natalie packed for Cancun, she went through her text messages and photos from Melody, searching for clues. Her mind played through many scenarios for what might have happened to her sister, each one worse than the last.
When her cell phone rang she was so deep into her thoughts, she jumped.
“It’s not good, I’m afraid,” Royce said without a greeting.
Natalie’s heart plummeted into her belly. “What did you find?”
“In the past two days three young women under the age of twenty-five have disappeared from the Cancun resort area and Riviera Cancun.”
“Why hasn’t it been in the news?”
“All three were from different countries—Sweden, Australia and now the US. To each country, it was a solitary incident. The Mexican government isn’t advertising this as a serial event. Contacts in Cancun say they’re treating two of them as individual unfortunate incidents.”
Rage shot through Natalie. “Bull! Three women? Did they all disappear diving?”
“Two diving. The third? They claim the young woman wandered off and probably fell into an abandoned underground tunnel associated with the Mayan ruins located at Chichén Itzá, a little over an hour outside Cancun.”
Natalie couldn’t believe in this day and age any country would give up that soon. But then Mexico had its share of internal issues. The police force could be run by the local drug cartel. They might not have an interest in finding the women. “Did the authorities even try to find the women?”
“My contact said they gave it a perfunctory look and abandoned the search when it grew dark. If you go—”
“There’s no if,” Natalie said. “I’m going.”
“Of course.” Royce continued. “You have your extra passports, yes?”
“I do.”
“Pick one that’s foreign, but not Australia or Sweden. And stay blonde. The three women thus far were all blonde.”
“Nice to know.”
“I had Geek run a background check on their families. They were from rather small families who have little money to pay ransom, much less to pursue lengthy litigation or to hire private investigators to search for their daughters.”
Natalie’s jaw hardened. The women were targeted for their blond hair, youth and their family’s lack of financial backing.
“So what you’re telling me is that you don’t think they were snatched for ransom.”
“No.” Royce’s single word in that flat tone said it all.
If the women had been kidnapped, their captors weren’t going to bargain to give them back. They would be sold or drugged and forced into the sex trade.
Forcing the emotion out of her heart, Natalie said, “The sooner we find them the better off they’ll be.”
“Right.” Royce gave her the details about meeting Lance at the New Orleans airport the following morning.
Once she ended the call, she sat back, tapping her bare toe, while she sifted through her passports. Part of her old life as an agent, the passports were vital to getting around the world without raising suspicion. Though she’d given up her job as an agent, Natalie had been hesitant to destroy the passports. Now she was glad she hadn’t.
Picking the United Kingdom passport, she stared at the image inside. The likeness was still valid: blond hair, blue eyes. And the woman in the photo looked like her with shorter hair. Hell, it was her, three years ago when she’d been active as an agent, sent all over the US and other countries to do what the CIA, FBI or Interpol either couldn’t do or hadn’t successfully managed to accomplish.
The passport would serve its purpose to get her past authorities and establish her as a young, single woman of limited assets and family connections on vacation in Cancun.
With the backing of her old team, she made hotel reservations for the same resort where Melody and her friends had stayed, using her UK alias, Natalia Scranton, age twenty-three.
Sleep had been impossible, but she’d tried anyway, keeping her cell phone on the pillow beside her in case, by some miracle, Melody was able to text her.
The
