Missing

J.J. Luepke

Description

Missing! addresses the child sex trafficking issue with a heart for the victims. Fortunately, for the victims in this fictional book, there is a team of vigilantes that are able to rescue them before they meet their final destination. Pepper Crandall and her girl band members work together to stop this sex trafficking ring by going under cover as a cover band in a night club that is a secret sex trafficking way station. Read how Pepper always gets her man!

Sujets

• Missing
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: Xlibris US
• Date de parution: 28 juillet 2022
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781669835707
• Langue: English

Extrait

Missing
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
J.J. Luepke
 
Copyright © 2022 by J.J. Luepke.
Library of Congress Control Number:
2022912116
ISBN:
Hardcover
978-1-6698-3572-1

Softcover
978-1-6698-3571-4

eBook
978-1-6698-3570-7
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
 
 
Rev. date: 07/27/2022
 
 
 
 
Xlibris
844-714-8691
www.Xlibris.com
819248
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Epilogue
PROLOGUE
T wo weeks ago, 14-year-old Tawney Blue was walking down the street in Bismarck, North Dakota. It was dusk, and the sand-complected girl was on her way home from a friend’s house where she had been studying. It was not the worst neighborhood in town, but it wasn’t the best either. She flicked her long black hair over her shoulder. There was a feeling that something was just not right. Call it female intuition. Call it her spirit guide warning her. Her left eye started twitching, another sign of impending trouble. Tawny picked up the pace hoping to get home before it was pitch black outside. She tried to keep an eye on the shadows to make sure she wasn’t being followed but was uneasy about her tracking skills. She bit her lower lip and picked up the pace even more. If I’m late, Mom’s going to go ballistic, she thought, starting to worry.
Suddenly a dark van slid to a stop just a few feet in front of her. Startled, she froze with fear. Two stout men dressed in jeans, denim jackets and ski masks burst out of the van and grabbed her by her arms. One of them slapped his sweaty hand over her mouth to prevent her from screaming. She tried anyway, but the sound was too muffled to be heard by anyone but her attackers. Her reward for her effort was the taste of salty sweat mixed with cheap after shave. The two thugs dragged her into the side door of the van and slammed it shut behind them. The unseen driver stomped the gas pedal, and they sped away. Fight or flight kicked in, and so did Tawney. She struck one of her assailants with her tennis shoe. It must’ve hit its mark as the stocky stranger doubled over clutching his crotch.
“Ow! You bitch!” he ground out through his teeth. “If I weren’t hurting, I’d show you a thing or two,” he threatened, wincing. He reached over and backhanded her face with his free hand. Its sting brought tears to her eyes . I’m not going to show them it hurt , Tawney thought. They will never see me cry . She squeezed her eyes tight for a second to stop the tears, but quickly opened them again to keep an eye on her abductors. Her heart was racing.
He tried to slap her again.
“Knock it off, jerk!” his partner said, catching his buddy’s arm. “You know the boss doesn’t want us damaging the merchandise. They’re worth more ‘untouched’.” The last word came out in a snide singsong.
“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure HE doesn’t break them in a little before finding a buyer,” the jerk said snidely. He sat back, though, and glared out of the window at the dark countryside.
Tawney quietly let out a sigh of relief. She was spared, at least for the moment.
Her single mom, Maggie Blue, wouldn’t find out until morning that Tawney hadn’t come home that night. When Maggie did discover it, fear tightened her chest, and she had hoped she was wrong. Tawney never stayed out all night unless she called home first. That morning, a concerned Maggie reported it to the police but was told that the girl had to be missing at least twenty-four hours before they could start searching for her. Maggie hung up the phone, worried, and angry, and with good reason. By the time the authorities took up the search, Tawney could be in another state, at the mercy of a child sex trafficking ring.
CHAPTER 1
A fter a week of debriefing on a bullying case at the local high school where she saved a high school freshman from suicide, Kris “Pepper” Crandall was back on the road in her 18-wheeler hauling jobs cross-country. She was usually on-call for Maranel Foods, but was a freelancer, free to accept other runs if she wanted to, which she often did because she enjoyed the variety.
On the Peppered job, so-called by the local police because Pepper snagged the bullies, Crandall had gone undercover as a paraprofessional at the local high school to flush out a trio of troublemakers bullying a quiet freshman named Lauren Wright. Lauren was just coming out of her shell, showing some creativity in how she fought back, but she was no match for the likes of three seniors who drove her to attempting suicide by drowning herself before help found her in the form of a former army sharp-shooter, named Pepper.
For Pepper and her three friends, Betsy Maranell, Lilly Jackson and Jensine DuBois, kids had become a priority in life. Betsy had her own twins to worry about, and Lilly had one daughter, so Pepper and Jen became “aunties” of the heart and did everything they could to help protect the little tykes. In doing so, Pepper taught the other women self-defense tactics and how to handle hand weapons. It was a good thing, too, because Pepper’s next assignment would involve them all and make them grateful they had paid attention during Pepper’s lessons.
It had been less than three weeks since Pepper thought she had put undercover work behind her when her cell phone rang, the number reading “Restricted”.
“Crandall, here!” she said after punching the blue tooth’s answer button on its earpiece. “This better be important!” Pepper had been hounded by several telemarketers lately and was losing her patience with them and the so-called Do Not Call List she was supposed to be on.
“This is Major John M. Bingham of the U.S. Army, serial number 9090912,” the basso profundo voice said. “Captain Crandall, my code number is 773440.”
“Yes, sir! Roger that. One moment, please,” Crandall said, downshifting her rig and pulling it off the freeway and onto a rest stop area where she had room to park. She was out on U.S. 90 heading back to Marshalltown with an empty trailer. She pressed another button to shield the call. “How can I help you, sir?”
“Please report to the Marshalltown Armory immediately for another undercover assignment,” the major said. “I will brief you upon your arrival. When can I expect to see you?”
Glancing at the clock on the dash, Pepper calculated it would take nearly all of an hour to reach the armory and said as much. If she was lucky, she’d have time to hit the latrine before the meeting. Maybe even wash her face.
“Not a minute later!” the major said, the urgency in his voice telling her that washing her face would have to wait.
“Yes, sir!” Pepper said. No use complaining, it wouldn’t do any good anyway. Besides, the army has seen her dirtier than she was now on more than one occasion. “On my way.”
“Marshalltown Armory out,” the major said.
Pepper flipped off the call shield and eased the souped-up Peterbilt back onto the highway. Fortunately, there wasn’t much traffic as it was the lunch hour, and most people were home or at work. Most likely eating , Pepper thought, recognizing a hunger pang. Lunch would have to wait even if she could sneak in a bathroom stop. The army waits for no one.
CHAPTER 2
A bout 55 minutes later, Pepper jumped down from the cab of her Peterbilt with her red ponytail flying. She managed to snag the curb side beyond the visitors’ parking spaces where the curb was long enough for her truck. She was wondering, not for the first time, just what this new assignment would be. The urgency in the major’s voice seemed a bit stronger than usual army business. She hoped it wouldn’t take her out-of-state as she had become close to her friends again after they played for their five-year class reunion last year.
The band was hoping to start playing for bars and lounges in central Minnesota in the near future. Pepper played bass guitar, Jen played lead guitar and was the lead singer, Lilly was on drums and Betsy on keyboard. Known as the Garage Girls for where they practiced, they had been a big hit in high school, so much so that the class invited them back for a reunion performance. That went over well, too. Except for the stalkers. Thank goodness that the stalkers never killed anyone and were all caught in the end. And, She hoped that type of thing would never happen again.
Pepper ducked into the women’s rest room just inside the armory entrance. She made the time to use the facilities as she’d hoped but ran into the company clerk the instant she stepped out of the bathroom.
Striking an Attention pose, the clerk saluted Crandall. He app