Page 9 of Unbroken

In one last-ditch effort, she begged again, trying the only thing she could think of to turn him off. “Please don’t do this. Not now. I… I'm on her period.”

The man halted, his hand hovering just over her underwear, those sinister eyes staring down at her. She forced herself to stay strong, to not cower under his gaze. “Show me.”

Her mouth dropped open a little bit. “What?”

“Show me,” he repeated.

Oh, God. He was testing her, just waiting for her to fail. What if he found out she’d lied to him? Still trembling, she dipped her hand beneath the waistband of her underwear and brushed her center. She slowly withdrew it and, keeping her hand in the shadow created by his huge body, held her fingers up to him.

They were ragged and torn from picking at the pin on the door, and she prayed that he wouldn’t be able to see the blood had already dried and begun to flake off. He hesitated so long she thought for sure he would call her bluff.

Suddenly, his weight lifted away as he climbed off the mattress. Without another word, he snatched up her clothes, spun on a heel and strode toward the door. She watched as he unlocked it, then slammed and re-locked it behind him.

Silence fell in his absence and it was somehow both the most welcome and most intimidating sound she’d ever heard in her life. She wasn’t sure how long she lay there before relief welled up and she let out a sob. That had been too close. She didn't know if she would survive a second time. One thing was certain—he would be back again, and soon.

Sending up a silent prayer for strength, she tucked herself back into her bra then, climbing to her hands and knees, she crawled over to the edge of the mattress and fished out the piece of mortar. She didn't have a second to lose.

CHAPTER

SEVEN

Aiden leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. They burned from staring at the screen for so long, trying to make sense of the barely visible numbers and letters. The back of the van was splattered with mud, and dirt obscured ninety percent of the license plate. He'd been running a combination of potential numerals, but so far had come up empty.

He glanced up as Kennedy approached, looking just as tired and frustrated as Aiden felt. “How's it going?”

Aiden gestured impatiently at the screen. “Same as it was about an hour ago.”

The first digit on the license plate he suspected was either an E or an F. The fourth digit was what he thought looked like a nine. One of the techs was running all of the license plates with numbers that fell within that particular sequence, but even narrowing it down to white vans, there were still too many options. He had to find something else.

He shoved away from his desk and headed to the kitchenette where he refilled his mug with the coffee that had been sitting out for hours. The smell of it alone reminded him of Maya, and his heart twisted. He leaned against the cabinets, stirring his coffee, lost in thought.

Agent Kevin Mazzarra stepped up beside him. “Any leads on your case?”

Aiden sighed and shook his head. “Not yet. What are you guys working on? Still the investment fraud?”

“Yep. Boring as hell.” He nodded and pulled the empty Diet Pepsi can from the koozie and tossed it in the recycle bin.

Aiden’s gaze landed on the logo printed on the insulator, and something sparked in his memory. “Hey, I'll catch you later.”

“Good luck,” Mazzarra called after him.

Aiden headed back to his computer and studied the frame until he found what he was looking for. He enlarged the picture, focusing on the back of the van. Mud covered most of it, but what appeared to be several points, like a large sunburst, were situated in the lower left corner just above the bumper.

He waved Kennedy over. “Think this could be a dealership logo?”

He studied the screen, then nodded. “Could be. Too defined to be mud splatter.”

“The van, or this plate at least, is registered in Illinois. Let's pull dealerships within a fifty-mile radius and see if any of them have insignias that might look like this.”

Soon they had a list of 463 dealerships, both new and used, to sift through. Christ. This was going to take forever. One by one, they pulled them up and crossed them off the list. But on number forty-seven, they hit pay dirt. The five lines that formed a sort of trident matched the Norton Chevrolet logo. He picked up the phone and dialed the number for the sales manager.

She answered a few rings later, and he introduced himself. “Ms. Miles, my name is Aiden Taylor with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I’m wondering if you can help me with something.”

“I can try,” she offered. “What do you need?”

The van itself was a newer model that they had just started producing about five years ago. Aiden relayed to Ms. Miles the model number of the van. “Could you please provide me with a list of purchases from the past five years?”

“I should be able to do that,” she said slowly. “I’ll email you what I find, but I have to warn you, that’s a pretty popular model.”