Shameless: The Mia Kazmaroff Mysteries, #2

By Susan Kiernan-Lewis

Forget the peaches and sweet tea. In some parts of Atlanta, the best buys are the children. 
When a terrified young Hispanic man is murdered, Jack Burton and his partner Mia Kazmaroff are determined to find and bring his killer to justice. What they find is a festering infection of human trafficking that stretches across Atlanta from Roswell to Riverside, revealing young José's murder is just the tip of a very large, insidious network of evil.
With a gift that allows her to determine the truth behind anything she touches, Mia soon discovers the horror of Atlanta's hidden sex trade--firsthand. Can she and Burton find José's killer—and the younger sister he was abducted with—in time to save her from a life of degradation? 
And can they do it before Mia, herself, is taken?
"...a plot-driven thriller that offers constant twists...the pace is nonstop." (Kirkus Reviews)

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Susan Kiernan-Lewis
• Release date: Aug 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223820567

Susan Kiernan-Lewis

USA TODAY Bestselling Author Susan Kiernan-Lewis is the author of The Maggie Newberry Mysteries, the post-apocalyptic thriller series The Irish End Games, The Mia Kazmaroff Mysteries, The Stranded in Provence Mysteries, The Claire Baskerville Mysteries, and The Savannah Time Travel Mysteries. Visit www.susankiernanlewis.com or follow Author Susan Kiernan-Lewis on Facebook.

Book preview

1

It was the week after Christmas and the pasture crackled with light frost everywhere Shiloh placed a hoof. Mia rode him bareback, her blue-jeaned legs dangling on either side of him, her hand relaxed on his neck. The sun made a dazzling diamond effect where its rays touched the frozen grass.

The little terrier, Daisy, ran alongside Mia. At odd moments the dog would veer off and race in another direction, distracted, Mia assumed, by some field mouse in the process of shifting burrows.

Mia closed her legs around her horse and he broke into a trot. At her age she knew riding bareback would result in sore muscles and aching joints the next day. She looked in the direction of the gate at the bottom of the gently sloping hill that led to the tack room and the barn. Even from the pasture she could see where the SUVs and station wagons were normally parked in the dirt parking lot. There weren’t any today, just her mother’s old Datsun.

She urged Shiloh in the direction of the gate. She could tell when she first climbed on him that he was agitated and nervous—probably the result of the wind scuttling leaves across the dead grass. She closed her eyes and willed calmness into him from her touch and smiled when, seconds later, she felt him relax beneath her.

Her gifts hadn’t diminished with her new-found ability to control them. Not at all. If anything, now that she could manage it, being able to tell the history and genus of any object just by touching it had gone from being a handicap to a benefit.

Usually.

She thought back to her brother, Dave, whose murder last fall had brought so many changes into her life. One of those changes was being forced to take control of a gift she’d allowed to rule her for too long. The other was the realization of a vein of steel in her backbone she hadn’t known she possessed.

And, of course, there was Jack.

Jack Burton was Dave’s ex-partner at the Atlanta Police Department’s Major Crime division. When Dave was murdered, Jack had been the obvious person to turn to for help.

And for other things.

She smiled at the thought of him but the pleasure was tinged with frustration.

Is the man ever going to make a move in my direction?

Out of the corner of her eye, Mia saw her mother standing at the gate. Mia could see she was cold. Jess hopped from one foot to the other as she worked to get the chain off the hook to throw the gate open.

As Mia approached, her mother caught the opening swing of the metal gate before it crashed against the wood slat board fencing. Jess waited, her face flushed from the cold, her shoulders hunched in her barn jacket as Mia rode the horse through the opening. Daisy shot ahead toward the tack room.

What took you so long just fetching one horse from the pasture? I’ve lost several important digits to the cold in that tack room. It’s freezing!

He was way up past the tree line, Mia said.

Mia heard the clang of the gate behind her as her mother shut and latched it.

Jack called, her mother said. He says you have a case.

Really? Mia dismounted and gave Shiloh a pat on the neck.

I didn’t even know you were going to go ahead with that, Jess said, rubbing her hands together for warmth. Taking cases and such.

I wasn’t sure we were either.

Are you going to call him?

Not until I feed Shiloh. Besides, we’re going to his place for dinner tonight. I’ll talk to him then.

Mia pulled Shiloh’s halter over his head and clipped his lead rope to the metal O-ring in the tack shed. Did I tell you Deputy Chief Maxwell asked Jack to come back to the force with no loss of pension? Mia asked.

Oh my goodness, really?

You can stop acting, Mom. I know you’re dating Maxwell. Mia hooked a large blue bucket onto the same O-ring in front of Shiloh. He promptly shoved his head into it.

Is that what I’m doing?

Fine. Have it your way. I’m not even upset that you felt the need to keep it a secret from me.

Jess sat on a bale of hay and reached for the thermos of hot coffee she’d brought. She poured a cup and offered it to Mia.

I’m sorry, Jess said. I wanted to tell you. But Bill felt it was best to keep a low profile.

How long has this been going on?

Jess shrugged. When Carol died, he reached out to me and I was glad to be there for him as a friend.

"Yeah, the two dozen roses he sent last week is definitely how I spell friendship."

Jess blushed and failed to hide a small smile. Enough of that, she said. You were saying that Jack was offered his old job back?

He turned it down, Mia said. As you’re probably already aware.

Well, Jack Burton is a man who knows his own mind.

Eventually, anyway. Mia finished off the coffee and handed the empty cup back to her mother. She watched Shiloh eat, listening to the sounds of his powerful jaws crunching the sweet feed.

Ready, Mia? Jess said. I’m freezing and it’s getting late.

Mia untied the horse. Put the bucket in the feed shed, will you, Mom? she said. I’ll meet you in the car. She walked Shiloh to the gate and released him into the dark pasture, listening to his footsteps as the night swallowed him up.

When she got into the car, her mother handed her the phone. It’s him again, she said.

Mia took the phone. Hey Jack, she said.

This crazy broad has been calling me all afternoon, his said. His voice sounded annoyed but it still sent a shiver of anticipation through Mia. And I need to know if you want to meet with her.

Who uses the word broad this day and age?

Who is she?

Her name is Jennifer Laughlin and she wants us to see if her husband is cheating on her.

Yuck. Well, set up a meeting, I guess.

Okay, and thanks for being so good with the whole calling-me-back thing. Good to know, partner, how responsive you are.

Oh, chill out. I took five minutes to walk through a pasture and get a little Zen in my life. I figured you could hang on for five minutes.

She looked at Jess, who was driving. Mia shook her head as if to say Don’t worry, it’s all good. She turned on the phone’s speaker so her mother could hear the conversation.

My big question, Jack said, is how did she even know to call me?

Mia buckled her seat belt. It’s possible that while we were wrapping up the loose ends on Dave’s case, I might have…in a spurt of enthusiasm, run an ad or something.

"You advertised our services as an investigative agency? Using my personal cell number?"

It’s entirely possible.

Mia heard her mother cluck her tongue in disapproval.

We will discuss this when you get here, Jack said firmly.

I hope we’ll discuss it over something to eat because Mom and I are both starving.

I’ve made a passable chicken pot pie with lemon zest. It’s probably not good enough to add to my menu for the business, but it’ll do for you two.

You say the sweetest things. Mia couldn’t believe how Jack had embraced his passion for cooking—or how quickly he’d been able to turn it into a private chef business. He already had two regular clients.

I don’t suppose you picked up the wine? he said.

Mia looked at her mother who nodded.

As a matter of fact, I did, Mia said.

Good. See you soon.

Mia tossed the phone into her bag on the floor of the car.

Sounds like his business is off to a great start, Jess said.

It is so bizarre imagining him whipping up meals for rich, bored housewives.

Are we his guinea pigs tonight?

Sounds like it.

I like Jack very much.

Yeah, he’s tolerable.

Mia stretched a kink out in her neck while Jess negotiated the dirt drive that led from the barn to Brown’s Ferry Road.

God, they should put lighting back here, Mia said. I don’t remember it being so dark.

Well, if they won’t repair the fencing on the east pasture that backs up to the river, I’m sure they won’t spend the money to—

Mom, stop! There’s something in the road!

A shadowy form materialized suddenly on the road. Jess slammed on the brakes and flicked on her bright lights. Daisy jumped from the backseat to Mia’s lap, her ears pricked forward, her body tensed, a growl humming low in her throat.

Neither woman spoke. Mia squinted at the road illuminated by Jess’s headlights. Whatever she thought she had seen was gone. The pines loomed over the drive, the needles of their treetops touching to create a canopy. Their shapes stood like eerie, malevolent sentinels guarding the way out.

Did you see that? Mia whispered. What was that?

2

Mia leaned across her mother and turned off the car. When the car quieted, the only sound was her mother’s breathing and Daisy’s soft growl.

Stay here, Mia said.

Jess reacted as if she’d been stung. She jerked around to face her daughter. Mia, no! She grabbed Mia’s arm to prevent her from leaving the car.

Mom, stop. I need to see—

Not out of the car! You can see from inside. Jess hit the button that locked all the doors.

Mia pulled her lock up and swung the door open. Stay here, she repeated and slipped out, closing the door on her mother’s protests. Whoever or whatever had flitted across the road was still there, hunched in the deep ditches on the side of the drive.

She stood with her hand on the warm car hood, trying to peer into the bushes on the south side of the drive where the figure had run. This late in the year, the light had fallen quickly but the car’s headlights made the shadows flicker and waver in the thick hedge.

Hello? Mia called. Is someone there?

There was no good reason why anyone would be walking in the ditches that lined the lane leading to the main road. There was no subdivision within two miles of Shakerag and no running trails to connect them.

Who would be walking around here this time of evening?

The rustling in the bushes answered her and she caught her breath.

Hello? she repeated, taking a step back toward the car.

An injured animal? One of the barn dogs? The hairs on the back of Mia’s neck prickled at the thought of the coyote someone at the barn had mentioned seeing last week.

When the figure emerged from the bushes, Mia’s hand went to where she usually wore her shoulder harness, until she remembered it was in the glove box of her mother’s car.

He was small, no bigger than Mia herself. At first Mia thought it might be a child. But when he staggered into the headlight beams, she saw he was a grown man.

And he was hurt.

Without thinking, she went to him and touched his arm. His face was streaked with blood and his eyes were wide. The fear that radiated up her arm where she touched him seemed to burn into her skin.

"Socorro," he whimpered, his eyes darting to each side of the brush-lined drive. "Por favor…ayudame. Help me."

I’ll need you three nights next week? Sheila Bressler said on the phone, her voice spiraling upwards to end with a question when there wasn’t one. Live in the south long enough, Jack thought, and every statement starts to sound like a question.

Jack sighed and nodded even though, of course, she couldn’t see him. That’s fine, he said. Crap. I was hoping to head up to the mountains next week.

And then the dinner party on the twentieth? I mentioned that to you, didn’t I? For ten?

You did.

I’ll need low salt and no sugar. Two of my guests are diabetics. One has celiac disease, poor dear. And, of course, my gluten intolerance. Will you email me your menus by the end of the week?

No problem. How the hell can you have a formal dinner with no sugar? And no salt? And what the hell is celiac disease?

Thank you, Jack. My husband loved your truffle mac and cheese last week.

Glad to hear it. Why wouldn’t he? It was loaded with butter and cheese, pasta and chunks of truffles.

After a few more instructions on how she preferred Jack to tidy up afterwards, they disconnected and Jack tossed the cell phone onto the couch then walked into the kitchen.

The last two days had been a serious pain in his butt with this new Buckhead client forcing his hand on the whole no gluten thing. If it were up to Jack he’d just tell her, eat it and deal with it. But of course, he was in the customer service game now. So he’d spend a couple hours online researching recipes and meal plans to accommodate her while hoping to come up with something that wouldn’t make a dog vomit.

He peered through the glass door of his oven at the potpie bubbling away. The crust was golden but not yet mahogany.

Things had changed between him and Mia since last month when they’d solved Dave’s murder. Not really changed in a bad way, unless you thought the fact that they weren’t sleeping together was bad.

Which he did.

He glanced at the water bowl on the floor. At the moment, he wasn’t sure if Daisy was his dog or Mia’s. He grinned ruefully. Looks like they had a shared custody arrangement. Regardless of how gruff he’d sounded to Mia on the phone, he was delighted they had a case—it was another reason besides her dead brother and a homeless dog for coming together.

Which was why his phone conversation with Jess a few minutes ago was so frustrating.

I hate to ask, dear, Jess had said, whispering conspiratorially into the phone while she was waiting for Mia to finish with her horse, but if you have any ideas about dating Mia, I need to ask you to please table them. At least for now, as a personal favor to me, Jack.

Jack tossed down the potholder and picked up his wine glass from the counter.

Something about Mia being all vulnerable and needing to get a better grip on her extrasensory powers first—or whatever the hell Jess called it—and saying that getting involved romantically could be problematic.

What the hell? It was bad enough they hadn’t seen much of each other since they solved Dave’s murder. They’d talked about creating a detective agency together, but what with his chef business taking off, nothing had moved forward. He’d been positively gleeful when the wife with the cheating hubby had called.

Then, five minutes later, Jess called with her special favor.

Now he was supposed to hold off making his move? For how long? A week? A month?

Indefinitely?

He heard Jess’s car pull up behind his truck in the driveway and felt a flutter of anticipation in his gut at seeing Mia again. God, he had it bad. He turned off the oven and drank down the rest of his wine.

Jack?

In the kitchen, he called, pulling out the anti-pasta tray from the refrigerator.

Mia stepped into the kitchen. She wore jeans and a corduroy barn jacket over a turtleneck. Her face was flushed with excitement. The mixture of a floral perfume with the faint whiff of horse clung to her long dark hair.

Daisy burst in from behind her and jumped up against Jack’s knees.

Hey, girl, he said, squatting down to give the dog the hug he’d prefer to lavish on Mia.

Jack, Mia said, I’ve got something to show you.

I hope it’s a pinot noir, he said, standing up. Although I could live with a decent pinot grigio.

Jess came up behind Mia and squeezed into the narrow galley kitchen. Jack saw she had her arm around a young man.

We found him walking down the front drive at Shakerag, Mia said, shrugging out of her jacket and handing it to Jack.

The man was Hispanic, Jack noted, and judging from the spasmodic way his wide eyes followed Mia’s hand gestures, he didn’t speak English.

And he was frightened.

Jack waved them all out of the kitchen. What happened? Who is he?

That’s just it, Jack, Mia said. We don’t know. Oh. I left the wine in the car.

We’ll get it in a minute. Jack approached the man who cowered the closer Jack got, his eyes darting to Jess and Mia as if pleading with them to intercede. What’s the matter with him? Crap, he’s bleeding!

It’s not bad, Jess said. But he seems to have gone through barbwire at one point.

Okay, everybody sit down, Jack said. And start at the beginning. When did you find him? I just talked to you thirty minutes ago.

Right after I hung up, Mia said, patting the couch next to her. Seconds later he practically fell in front of our car.

"And why did you feel the need to put him in your car?"

Okay, Jack, don’t be like that. Can’t you see he’s had the crap scared out of him?

Mia, dear. Language.

Sorry, Mom. We don’t speak Spanish so we don’t know why when I opened the car door he practically dove into the back seat. I figured he was running from someone, you know? Mm-mm, that smells good.

Jack dashed into the kitchen and pulled the potpie out of the oven. He set it on the counter to cool and returned to the living room. The man was sitting on the couch now. Jack figured he was about twenty years old. His face was freshly cut by the barbwire but no longer bleeding.

He’s petrified, Jack said, sitting opposite the man.

I know, Mia said. We figured he was afraid we’d turn him in. For sure he doesn’t have papers.

He looks like he’s terrified for his life, Jack said.

Exactly what I thought.

Jack gave Mia a baleful glance. And your plan? I know you have one.

Beyond giving him a decent meal and trying to find out who’s chasing him?

Jack sighed and ran his hand over his face. He turned to the young man who was staring desperately at Mia. "Como te llamas?"

Jack! You speak Spanish!

What I just said, and an inquiry about the location of your aunt’s blue pencil box, is the extent of my linguistic abilities, he said, grimly. He looked back at the young man. "Senor?"

The man continued to look at Mia as if she might save him.

It’s okay, Mia said to him. She put a hand on Jack’s shoulder, sending a jolt of heat through him where she touched him. "Jack is our amigo. He won’t hurt you."

The man’s face crumpled into what looked like the beginning of tears and then glanced at Jack before turning back to Mia. José, he said. "Me llamo José."

Jess stood up and went out to the car, returning with the bottle of wine. I think we can all use a drink, she said.

"Mi Hermana esta en peligro."

I have no idea what he’s saying, Jack said.

"Mi Hermana."

"Sorry, José. No comprendo," Mia said.

"I think hermana means sister," Jess said.

How do you know that? Mia said. She jumped up and rummaged in her purse for her smartphone. She touched a few buttons and then spoke into it. Why were you running away tonight? She held the smartphone out to José and an automated voice said: por que niegues esta noche?

José’s face lit up and he reached for the smartphone.

Wait, let me move it from English to Spanish, Mia said as she took the phone and made the adjustment before handing it to him.

He took the phone and spoke slowly into it. "Huia de mis captores." He paused and the smartphone intoned flatly, I was running from my captors.

Holy crap, Mia said. Like kidnappers? Does that make sense? Maybe he comes from a rich family back in Mexico or something?

José spoke again into the phone. "Mi Hermana y yo fuimos tornados." My sister and I were both taken.

You were right, Mom. He was talking about his sister.

Maria, José said, as tears filled his eyes.

I think I know what this is, Jack said, standing up. Mia, give me a hand in the kitchen.

Are you serious? Now?

Please?

Jess took the smart phone from José, changed the setting, and spoke into it, Where is Maria now, José?

Jack pulled Mia into the kitchen. You can plate up four servings while I open the wine.

What the hell, Jack? But she pulled four large white bowls from the open shelving in the kitchen.

I think he’s a victim of a human trafficking ring, he said in a low voice.

Mia glanced at the living room where her mother was talking to José. You mean like sex slaves? That doesn’t make sense.

Well, it might for his sister, he said, pulling the cork out of the bottle. "But human trafficking isn’t just sex. He says he was held against his will. If he’s being forced to do manual labor, it would explain