Yeah, yeah, I know. That last chapter was the least bit interesting...Which is why I posted another chapter today :D Since midterms ended yesterday, I've been spending alot more time doing important stuff (like writing) over stupid stuff like studying for midterms :DD yeaaah! So without further ado, Chapter 10!

Anthony's Point of View

"Wait, you tracked the phone three days ago?" Ian yelled. "Why the hell didn't you call us?"

Detective Benson calmed Ian down and responded in a collected voice, "We didn't want to get anyone's hopes up. If we had traced the phone and it told us nothing, it would be a waste of time to even mention it."

"Wait, so you did find something then?" I interrupted.

"Yes," she continued. Out of her brief case, she pulled a hand drawn diagram of a side of a small mountain. "This is Bewmount Cliff, a road-side attraction about twenty miles from here. This is where her phone was traced." Detective Benson pointed toward the bottom half of the mountain. "The phone was traced here. Of course, it was completely cracked and broken, but we were at least able to find it."

"So the lead?" Ian asked very anxiously.

"While one of our investigators was there," Detective Connors persisted. "A black Audi and a black Honda Civic drove up around the same time. Because he was only an investigator and did not have any weapon or anything, he hid behind the rock that the phone was found. He was able to record the conversation he heard, however. Here it is."

Wait, a black Honda Civic? I pondered. That's… my car. I soon pushed the thought out of my mind. Just a coincidence. I convinced myself.

On the middle of the table we were all sitting at, Connors put in the center a small recording device. He hit play, and the room went silent as two voices began to speak.

(Two car doors slammed)

I-I got your message, sir.

Obviously, you did. You're here.

So-*cough* Wha-Is there anything I can do for you, sir?

Yes, the head of the management said they needed more recruits for the auction this Monday.

There's another one Monday?

What can I say, business is booming. Anyway, we need more guards for security. I want you to recruit some.

But why do they need more guards? What happened to all of them?

That is none of your concern. I would keep my ass in my own business.

R-right. Sorry-erm, excuse me, sir.

Just do what we say and save your apologies. Get me some men, maybe around twenty. Oh, and it would be best if they were white or Latino. Most of the guys there are already those races, so the more men that blend, the better. Have them here by Sunday morning.

(Car doors slam and tires rip the gravel)

The recording device turned off. "That was the end of the conversation." Benson concluded.

"I don't understand." Ian said. "What auction are they talking about?" I nodded my head in agreement.

The two detectives looked at one another. With a sigh, Benson looked over at us. "Based on our deductions between this conversation, the similarity between Hannah's case and Sarah's, and past cases concerning the same type of evidence, we can establish that the auction and business the two men talk about is a sex operation. We believe that Hannah will be sold into prostitution."

A silence filled the room. My heart went into my stomach. "Oh my god." I whispered. Oh good God. I think I'm going to be sick. With my mouth hanging open, I looked over at Ian, but he wasn't there. Instead I heard the door to the conference room slam. Out the window, I saw Ian run outside to a trashcan near a park bench. Apparently he took the thoughts right out of my head. He threw up into the trash can. Detective Benson, Connors, and I looked away.

"Do you want to, you know? Help him?" Detective Benson asked.

I shook my head. "No, he'll be back in a second. He just needs a moment."

"Alright," Connors said. "Now, you might be wondering how this crazy deduction came to be."

I raised my eyebrows. No shit, Sherlock.

Apparently, Detective Connors read my mind. "You see, in other operations, the business men are very careful of who they pick. After sending agents to do their dirty work, girls much like Hannah, pretty, young, and carefree, are stalked so their regular habits are known."

"You own a black Honda Civic, right?" Asked Benson.

"Yeah, I do." I responded. "So did that guy on the tape."

"Precisely," Connors remarked. "We can infer that the agent who was sent used this car because he knew you owned the same."

"God," I exclaimed. "They tracked all the way back to my car. Who knows what else they know!"

"Apparently, they know about Hannah's friendship with Allison." Detective Benson said. "You received a message from Hannah's phone saying she was over with Allison, right?"

I nodded. "The man that abducted Hannah must have taken her phone and texted you the message or have made her write it." Benson explained. "Either way, he knew that it would have been a believable excuse."

After forcing myself to take a deep, calming breath, Ian walked back in, looking extremely pale. "Um, sorry about that." He said, quietly.

"It's alright," Connors said, and filled Ian in on the conversation he missed. Ian was silent for a moment then asked, "What next?"

Benson sighed, and looked as if she was waiting for this question to be asked. "Now, we take action."

"We first need to get someone in on the scene." Connors revealed.

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"We need someone to be 'recruited' for tomorrow," he replied. "Once we get a man on the scene, we'll be able to find out where this 'business' is located, then take it down from the inside."

Benson had her hands over her eyes and rubbed her forehead. "Only problem," she muttered. "Is who do we send in?"

"Me." I replied, without thinking. "Send me."