28

The early morning sun streamed through the large glass windows of Reese's office, casting a golden glow across the polished hardwood floors and reflecting off the sleek, modern furniture. A ceiling fan spun lazily overhead, barely stirring the heavy air. The office smelled of rich cigar smoke and espresso—Reese's morning ritual.

He sat behind his massive mahogany desk, leisurely sipping his espresso while flipping through the contents of the confiscated phones. Lila lounged nearby, perched on the edge of the desk with one knee bent, lazily scrolling through Chet Morton's phone. A half-smoked cigarette dangled between her fingers, the ash threatening to fall onto the surface of the desk.

"They had more contact than I expected," she muttered. "Calls to Bayport, a few check-ins with Iola Hardy… and," she tapped the screen, "Frank had a recent exchange with daddy dearest before they lost service."

Reese quirked an eyebrow. "Fenton Hardy?"

"The one and only," Lila confirmed. "They let him know they were heading toward Amana. No details beyond that, but if he's half the detective his reputation claims, he'll piece together that they never checked in again."

Reese exhaled slowly, setting his espresso down. He rubbed his thumb along his jawline, considering. "So, there's a chance he's already in Brazil."

Lila smirked. "And if he's not, he'll be on his way soon enough. A father's love and all that."

Reese chuckled. "Which means we may be getting an unexpected guest if he decides to sniff around too close." He leaned back, tapping his fingers on the desk. "In that case, we'll have to make sure he doesn't leave, either. The last thing I need is the great Fenton Hardy causing trouble. If he comes looking for his sons, he's not leaving with them."

Lila's grin widened. "You thinking of having him take up residency here?"

Reese shrugged. "If he finds us, we'll simply extend an invitation he can't refuse." He leaned back thoughtfully and took a puff of a cigar. "It's quite likely he will be joining us. From everything I've read about him he sets quite the store about his sons. He will no doubt come. I will contact Renaldo and have him keep his men and cameras on high alert. They will have to come through Anama, the same way the others did to get here."

Lila nodded knowingly. "Yes, he will no doubt bring a handful of private mercenaries to assist him. Which will be no match for your boys outside. They will make quick work of them."

"True." Reese noted thoughtfully. "But it might do us well to keep Detective Hardy alive when he arrives. At least so he and I may have a chat. That man is a wealth of information. Perhaps you can persuade him to provide some intel."

An evil smile crossed Lila's lips. "Through drugs or torture?"

"Whichever works." Reese shrugged indifferently.

Lila flicked the ash off her cigarette and then returned her attention to the screens. "So, what's next? We've kept our little pets cooped up long enough. You still planning to take your prize today?"

Reese's dark eyes gleamed, but his expression did not betray his thoughts. "Not yet." He took another deep puff from his cigar.

Lila gave him a sideways look. "Not yet?"

Reese stood, stretching leisurely before walking to the window. "There's a delicate balance, Lila. Fear, control, anticipation—they all have their roles. If I take Maddie now, she'll shut down completely. That's not what I want." He turned, his smirk returning. "I want her to be prepared. I want her mother to lull her into a false sense of security. Let her feel protected. Let Callie believe she's bought her daughter time."

Lila scoffed. "You're really playing the long game with this one."

Reese's expression remained smug. "It's more fun that way."

Lila took a slow drag from her cigarette, exhaling the smoke in a lazy swirl. "Fine. But what do we do with them in the meantime?"

Reese glanced at the spread of confiscated belongings and then back at Lila. "We give them a little taste of the authority. A reminder that I hold all the power here. Lunch. In grand style. And then a field trip."

Lila arched a brow. "Oh?"

Reese's smirk widened. "I think it's time our guests learn where my wealth comes from. And what happens to those who think they can steal from me."

Lila's grin turned wicked. "Ah. A little lesson in consequences."

Reese poured himself another espresso, his gaze drifting back to the confiscated phones. "Bring them out. All of them."

Lila slid off the desk, cracking her neck. "With pleasure."

The dining hall was a masterpiece of indulgence, an obscene display of wealth and power. A long mahogany table stretched nearly the length of the room, covered with an opulent spread of exotic fruits, golden-brown roasted meats, fresh seafood, and steaming plates of fragrant rice and vegetables. Ornate crystal glasses caught the light from the grand chandelier above, filled with deep red wine that swirled with every careless flick of Reese's wrist.

Despite the lavishness of the feast, an oppressive silence settled over the table. The captives sat stiffly, their eyes flitting between each other, their movements hesitant. Even Chet, who was infamous for his unrelenting appetite, stared at his plate with reluctance, his fingers drumming absently against the wood.

Reese, lounging at the head of the table, observed them with clear amusement. He took a slow sip of his wine, letting the tension build before breaking the silence. "You all look so… unenthusiastic. I can't imagine why."

Maddie, slumped slightly in her chair, her head resting in her hand, barely looked up. The dull, glassy quality of her eyes, the slight flush on her cheeks—she was still suffering from last night's overindulgence. Certainly not uncommon for one's first time drinking an excess of hard liquor.

Reese's smirk widened as he turned his attention to her. "Ah, my dear Maddie," he crooned, shaking his head. "You look positively dreadful. You must be nursing quite the hangover."

He reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring a generous measure into a glass before nudging it toward her. "Here. Hair of the dog."

Callie, seated beside Maddie, immediately stiffened. "No," she said sharply, reaching to push the glass away. "She doesn't need any more."

Chet, who had remained mostly silent, now spoke up as well, his voice firm. "She's fifteen, you son of a bitch. You don't get to turn my kid into a damn drunk."

Reese leaned back in his chair, unimpressed by their outrage. He twirled the stem of his glass between his fingers, then smiled lazily. "Tell me, Chet… who exactly is in charge here?"

Chet clenched his jaw but said nothing.

Reese turned back to Maddie, his voice smooth as silk. "Go on, sweetheart. It'll make you feel better."

Maddie hesitated, her mother's fingers tightening around her wrist.

Callie pleaded; her voice softer now. "Maddie, you don't have to."

But Maddie—still feeling the pounding ache behind her eyes, the thick nausea rolling through her stomach—knew that resisting Reese's whims only made things worse. She swallowed hard and picked up the glass, taking a small sip at first, then a longer one.

Warmth spread through her, dulling the pain almost instantly.

Reese's smirk widened. "That's my girl."

Callie turned her face away, her expression tight with barely suppressed frustration. Chet exhaled sharply, muttering under his breath before finally reaching for a plate of food.

Reese gestured to the feast. "Now, eat. I can't have my guests wasting away before our little outing later."

The group hesitated but knew better than to refuse. They needed their strength.

Chet finally sighed, reluctantly picking up a roasted drumstick. He took a bite and chewed slowly, then gave a grudging nod. "Alright… I hate to admit it, but this is damn good."

Joe smirked. "Called it. Even in hell, you'd still eat."

Frank chuckled. "It's a wonder Reese doesn't just starve us out. We all know you would be the first to break."

Chet shot him a glare, but ultimately kept eating, muttering, "Gotta keep my energy up." He cleaned his plate in record time and looked over sheepishly at his host. "I don't suppose you have any chocolate pie?" In spite of the situation, Frank and Joe exchanged amused glances.

"But of course. And cherry pie as well." Reese answered smoothly as he snapped his fingers to a nearby domestic.

Chet looked impressed. "Wow, it's almost like you were expecting me."

"Well, truth be told, Mr. Morton, I was." Reese said with a sickening smile.

After the meal, Reese led the group into the estate's grand library—a sprawling, two-story chamber lined with towering bookshelves, rich mahogany walls, and heavy velvet curtains. A fire crackled in the massive stone hearth, casting flickering shadows across the room. A polished bar stood against one wall, stocked with an extensive selection of spirits.

Reese strolled toward it leisurely, pouring himself a drink. Without turning, he gestured toward Maddie. "You're drinking, aren't you?"

Maddie hesitated. Callie frowned deeply but said nothing this time. Maddie knew better than to refuse. She nodded.

"Good girl." Reese poured her another glass, handing it to her with a smirk. Callie, watching, took a deep breath, then turned toward the bar herself.

"I'll take one too," she muttered.

Reese chuckled. "Oh? Need something to take the edge off?"

Callie lifted her glass and took a slow sip, her gaze cold. "It seems to be the only thing you'll let me have control over."

Reese simply grinned. He turned to the group, swirling his glass. "Let's discuss something important, shall we?" His eyes flicked to Maddie. "My dear… you do realize why I've been so generous with you, don't you?"

Maddie stiffened slightly, her fingers tightening around her glass.

Reese leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whispering purr. "I want you to be receptive… open, willing. You'll soon find out that a special night is coming." His smirk widened. "And it will be… spectacular." He took a deep breath then raised his eyebrows. "I think it was destiny. I mean when you stayed with me before you and I came quite close to having quite a bit of fun. But I thought perhaps it best just to convey you along to others and pocket myself some cigarette money."

Frank raised his hand to get his host's attention. "You know, that whole thing up in West Virginia has me wondering a lot of things."

Reese smiled over to the detective. "No doubt it does, detective." He smiled knowingly. "Let me guess. Now that you are here and have seen first hand the scope of my operation and obviously extensive resources, why I would have been up on the easter seaboard abducting kids and selling them for what you must view at this point as chump change."

Frank nodded and gestured to the expansive library. "Indeed I have wondered. I see a number of exceedingly rare books just on that shelf alone." He said with a gesture to a nearby glass case with many old books inside.

Reese nodded and smiled. He walked slowly over to the case and looked down. "You have good observational skills, detective. That case along has conservatively ten million dollars worth of rare books. That first edition Alice's Adventures in Wonderland alone is worth about four million dollars. There are, after all, only 22 known to exist."

Frank nodded slightly. "Which begs to question, why were you up there selling kids?"

"Why were you killing them?" his brother added with an indignant look.

Reese took a breath and shook his head. "I rather doubt you would understand what motivated me. But, it obviously wasn't about the money."

"I have a pretty good idea." Frank grunted. "But since we are all playing nice today, I suppose I should digress."

"A wise choice, detective." Reese said dismissing further attention to the subject and turned back to Maddie.

Callie's grip on her glass tightened to the point where her knuckles turned white. She detested when he paid any attention to her daughter.

Lila, perched casually on the arm of a chair, looked over at Maddie with a smirk. "The real question, Maddie, is…when it comes down to being entertained by Mr. Reese will you make it easy for yourself, or will you fight every step of the way?"

Maddie's stomach clenched, but the alcohol dulled the full weight of what they were saying.

Joe, ever the tactician, leaned back and crossed his arms. "You've been planning all this out, haven't you?"

Reese chuckled. "Of course. A man like me doesn't leave things to chance."

Frank, keeping his tone civil, added, "I assume that includes dealing with… unexpected guests?"

Reese arched an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?" He asked, feigning ignorance.

Frank took a slow sip of water, then spoke evenly. "Before we lost service, I was in contact with my father. He knew we were heading to Amana."

Reese's expression remained unreadable, but Lila grinned. "Ah. Fenton Hardy. The legendary detective."

Reese exhaled, swirling his drink. "So, there's a chance he'll come sniffing around."

Frank nodded. "More than a chance."

Reese considered this for a moment, then smirked. "Well, if he finds his way here, I suppose we'll have to offer him an appropriate welcome."

The group was led into the lower levels of the estate, where the air was thick with the acrid scent of chemicals and processed narcotics. Workers in masks moved in a mechanical rhythm, cutting, packaging, and preparing product for transport.

Reese paced slowly among them, his tone casual but laced with menace. "This operation is what funds everything you see around you. The luxuries, the security, the control." He paused. "But sometimes, even in a well-oiled machine, there are… malfunctions."

He turned, his eyes scanning the workers. His voice was light, almost playful. "And recently, someone has been dipping their fingers where they don't belong."

The tension in the room thickened. Several workers stiffened.

Reese smiled. "Now, I could be mistaken. Maybe it was all just a misunderstanding."

His gaze landed on one man, a young mule with sweat beading on his forehead.

"Or maybe…" Reese mused, stepping closer, "we have a thief in our midst."

The mule visibly trembled. "Sir, I—I swear, I—"

Reese exhaled. "Lila."

Lila stepped forward, her knife glinting.

The worker whimpered.

Reese smirked. "You know what to do."

Lila's grin widened. "With pleasure."

Lila circled the trembling mule like a shark scenting blood. The man, no older than twenty-five, stood frozen, his hands shaking at his sides, his breath coming in rapid gasps. He tried to look anywhere but at Reese, but the weight of his boss's gaze was inescapable.

"Please… I swear, Senhor Reese, I didn't—"

Reese let out a dramatic sigh, tilting his head as he looked at the man with feigned disappointment. "You disappoint me, Miguel." He gestured lazily around the warehouse. "Do you see all of this? Do you understand what it takes to keep this operation running? Trust. Loyalty. Discipline."

Miguel swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I—"

Reese held up a hand. "Shh."

Miguel bit his lip, silencing himself.

Reese took a step closer, his expression darkening. "Now, what am I supposed to do with an employee who betrays that trust?"

Miguel shook his head frantically. "I didn't! Please, Reese, I—"

Reese's hand shot out, gripping the man's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You came up short on your last shipment," he murmured. "I let it slide once, thinking maybe it was a mistake. A miscalculation." His fingers dug in slightly. "But then it happened again."

Miguel's lip trembled. "It wasn't me, I swear—"

Reese tsked. "Lying, too? Tsk tsk." He turned toward his guests, giving them a slow, satisfied smile. "You see, this is why discipline is important. If I let one person slip through the cracks, suddenly, my entire business falls apart." He stepped back, releasing Miguel, and gestured toward Lila.

"Do what you do best, my dear."

Lila's grin widened as she stepped forward, withdrawing a thin, gleaming blade from her belt. "Oh, I do love this part."

Miguel staggered back, his breath coming in gasps. "No—please—"

Lila moved with catlike precision, grabbing him by the hair and yanking his head back. The blade flashed once, carving a deep R into the flesh of his cheek. Miguel screamed.

Joe, who had been observing the scene with dry detachment, quipped, "Isn't that like signing a confession? Are you going to sign your name, too?"

Lila glanced at him, chuckling. "You know, detective, I do appreciate a sense of humor." She turned back to Miguel, who was whimpering, blood dripping from his cheek.

"Unfortunately," she sighed dramatically, "you're not nearly as amusing."

With a swift movement, she plunged the knife into his side. Miguel let out a strangled cry. Lila twisted the blade, watching with sick delight as the life drained from his face.

The captives tensed, watching in horror. Even Chet—who had seen his share of violence—turned slightly pale.

Maddie clutched Jaime's arm, her fingers digging in, but her expression was eerily blank. Too much alcohol, too much horror, too much everything had dulled her reactions.

Reese clapped his hands together. "And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what happens when you steal from me."

The body hit the floor with a sickening thud.

Silence followed.

Reese turned to Frank and Joe, his expression suddenly pleasant. "Now then. Shall we return to the library for a drink?"

Back in the grand library, the fire crackled warmly, utterly at odds with the cold, vicious display they had just witnessed. Reese poured himself another glass of whiskey, then leaned against the bar, his gaze sweeping over his captives.

Maddie had been quiet ever since they had returned, her hands wrapped around her glass, staring at the fire.

Reese's smirk widened. Good.

Callie sat beside her, tense but silent. She had accepted another drink, though she didn't down it as quickly as Maddie did.

Reese exhaled contentedly. "I trust that was a valuable lesson?"

Chet's jaw was tight. "Yeah. We get it."

Reese feigned delight. "Do you? Because I would hate for any of you to forget." He swirled his drink. "Especially you, Maddie."

Maddie finally looked up, blinking sluggishly. "Huh?"

Reese grinned. "You're going to be very special to me soon. I just want you to understand how much… smoother things will be if you're compliant."

Chet looked ready to lunge across the room.

Callie's nails dug into the armrest of her chair.

Jaime, sitting beside Maddie, went rigid, her entire body tensing.

Maddie, however, just blinked slowly. "Smoother?"

Reese chuckled, watching her drunken sway. "That's right, sweetheart."

Lila, sitting on the edge of the desk, smirked. "You're really getting the hang of drinking, aren't you, Maddie?"

Maddie gave a loose, drunken giggle. "Yeah, it's… nice."

Callie reached over and grabbed Maddie's glass, pulling it away. "That's enough."

Reese sighed. "Always the responsible mother."

Callie's lip curled. "Someone has to be."

"Do they?" Reese countered.

Callie studied her adversary closely. He had just had a man killed before their eyes and took great pride in the act. She must remain tactful and aware that it does not take much to set the man off. Reluctantly, she returned the glass to her daughter. Reese smiled smoothly and gave her an approving nod.

Their host took a slow sip of his drink, then turned his attention back to Frank. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Your father. Fenton Hardy."

Frank remained calm, his expression unreadable. "What about him?"

Reese smirked. "I imagine he's already sniffing around, isn't he?"

Frank didn't answer, which was answer enough.

Reese sighed dramatically. "I suppose we'll have to prepare for another guest, then. If he does manage to find his way here, well… he'll need accommodations."

Joe scoffed. "You really think you can keep my father here?"

Reese chuckled. "Look how easy it was to keep you here. Your father will not have the resources to breach my parameter. Sadly, here in Brazil most law enforcement agents tend to work for the hand that best feeds them. This leaves him to bring a handful of private mercenaries or a few federals who haven't been bought." He took another drink and then looked out the window. "On any given day I have an average of 70 trained men on the outside of this compound. This allows me to sleep very securely."

Joe nodded, not wishing to stir the pot further. "I see your point." He deferred. While he knew that his father was infinitely more resourceful that Reese gave him credit for, Joe preferred not to present a case to Reese that might make him place even more support on the outside than already existed.

With an exaggerated yawn, Reese looked down at his watch. "And now, dear friends, I must bid you ado for the time being. No doubt you wish to rest after such a large meal and entertainment." With a gesture he indicated to Lila to escort them back to their cell.

Back in their cell Maddie wasn't just tipsy—she was still quite drunk thanks to that extra servings she got from Reese when they returned to the library. Even after being in the cell for some time, the whiskey clung to her like a warm, hazy cocoon. Her limbs were loose, her inhibitions nonexistent, and her emotions swayed unpredictably between giddy amusement and exaggerated sincerity. She leaned heavily against Jaime, grinning lazily, tracing patterns on Jaime's palm as if her fingers were the most fascinating thing in the world.

Chet, arms crossed, let out a slow breath. "So," he began, eyes narrowing on his daughter, "I think we should have a little talk about last night and today."

Maddie giggled, peeking up at him. "Oh no. A talk? That sounds serious."

"It is serious," Callie said, her voice firm but not unkind. "Maddie, do you even remember everything you did?"

Maddie smirked. "I remember dancing. And… taking my clothes off. And Jaime looking really cute."

Jaime sighed, shaking her head but keeping her voice soft. "Mads…"

Maddie ignored the warning and turned toward her parents with exaggerated sincerity. "Mom, Dad, don't worry. I promise I will never strip naked in front of you again….maybe."

Chet exhaled. "Well, that's a relief."

Callie gave her daughter a look, not nearly as amused. "Maddie, this isn't a joke. We need to talk about this drinking thing. I know it just started yesterday, but it is important you understand how serious it can be."

Maddie groaned. "You sound like a PSA."

"I should sound like a PSA," Callie countered. "Because the way Reese is using alcohol against you is a very real problem. And I need you to understand that."

Maddie flopped onto her back, sighing dramatically. "I do understand! I just—" She cut herself off, struggling to find the right words. "It's not like I can just not drink if he's giving it to me."

"That's exactly what we need to talk about," Callie said, her voice softer now, but no less serious. "You might not always have a choice. If he gives you a drink, and it's between drinking or something worse happening—obviously, you drink. But don't start wanting it. Don't start thinking it actually helps."

Maddie cracked open one eye. "It does help. I feel way better this way."

"That's exactly the problem," Callie muttered.

Chet sighed, rubbing a hand along his forehead. "Look, kid, I get it. You're stuck in a situation where you have zero control, and if a drink makes things easier for a while, I'm not gonna tell you to refuse it outright. But what I am gonna tell you is that you have to keep your head on straight. Don't let yourself start needing it just because it makes things suck less."

Maddie was quiet for a moment, her fingers idly tracing along Jaime's wrist. She knew they were right—on some level, she knew this was dangerous. But she also didn't want to think about it right now.

She licked her lips, frowning. "Okay. Fine. I'll try not to… like it too much."

"That's not exactly reassuring," Callie said, but she let it drop, recognizing there was no point in pushing further when Maddie was still in this state.

Joe, leaning back against the wall, decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. "We've got another issue to talk about—one that might be more urgent."

Frank nodded, his expression grim. "Reese knows dad is likely coming. He saw my last messages to him before we lost signal. He knows we were headed to Amana, and he's already assuming my dad will be in pursuit."

Jaime tensed. "That means he's preparing for him."

"Exactly," Frank said. "And we all know Reese doesn't do anything without a plan."

Chet let out a long breath. "Your dad's not a fool, Frank. He knows what kind of people he's dealing with."

"I know that," Frank said, "but does he know Reese has an entire compound full of men? If he shows up with a handful of guys as Reese indicated, thinking he can just bust in here, he's gonna end up another prisoner—or worse."

Callie shook her head. "Then we can't just sit here and hope for a rescue. If there's a chance Fenton is walking into a trap, we need a backup plan."

Joe nodded. "Yeah, and there's one thing we do have—a possible way out."

Maddie, still floating in her drunken haze, perked up. "The tunnels?"

Joe nodded. "The tunnels."

Frank glanced at Jaime, then at Callie. "We need to figure out which ones actually lead outside."

"We can't go searching without a plan," Callie added. "Even if we find a way out, what about Marcos and Antonio? We can't leave them."

"Not to mention, once we make a move, we only get one shot," Chet said. "If we get caught, that's it. No more chances. We should hope to get more intel from Isadora when she brings us some food."

Maddie, her intoxicated brain still somewhat scattered, suddenly grinned and—without warning—pulled up her shirt and flashed Jaime. "What do you think of these?"

Jaime's eyes widened, but instead of reacting sharply, she let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "Mads…" She reached out, gently pulling Maddie's shirt back down. "Sweetheart, maybe keep those just for me, yeah?"

Maddie smirked. "Well, duh."

Chet groaned. "I thought this conversation was going somewhere…until my daughter started acting like a college sorority pledge."

Callie let out a slow, weary breath. "Are you sure I don't do that when I'm drunk?" she asked, glancing at Chet.

Chet gave her a pointed look. "I mean… not exactly that, but you do get bold."

Callie sighed. "I'm suddenly regretting every drink I've ever had."

Maddie, entirely unbothered, turned toward Jaime again, shifting closer. "You love me, right?"

Jaime gave her a small, affectionate smile. "Of course I do, Mads."

Maddie, satisfied, sighed and snuggled against her. "You smell nice."

Jaime couldn't help but giggle a little. "Thanks, baby. Now sleep, okay?"

Maddie made a noise of protest but ultimately let herself relax, her breathing slowing as she drifted off.

Across the room, Callie found herself glancing at Jaime. The moment their eyes met, there was something… charged between them. A flicker of acknowledgment. A memory of the previous night that neither of them had dared to think about that day. The night before it had become awkward for them both when they admitted the encounter they shared was a positive thing.

Jaime held her gaze, and for just a second, Callie swore she saw something knowing in those green eyes.

Something remembering.

Callie quickly looked away, forcing herself to refocus. She was confused. All she could really attribute the misguided actions she took the night before was a brief moment of confusing Jaime for Aimee, her regular lover on the side.

Frank, still watching the group, spoke again. "Tomorrow, we figure out what we're going to do."

The room fell into thoughtful silence, each person lost in their own considerations.

Because one way or another, the clock was ticking.