"Sarah," I said, my voice tight. "Bring me the heavy kitchen shears from the prep counter. And grab a clean towel and a cup of warm water."
Sarah ran into the kitchen and returned in seconds with the shears. I carefully slid the blunt safety edge of the metal blade under the outermost layer of plastic, making sure the steel stayed far away from Maya's skin.
Snip. Snip.
As the tension of the plastic wrap gave way, Maya let out a long, ragged gasp of relief. Her shoulders dropped three inches, and she leaned forward, weeping softly into my shoulder as her compressed chest was finally allowed to expand.
"There you go, sweetheart," I murmured, carefully peeling the heavy plastic shield and the pouch-laden belt away from her body. "Take a deep breath. You're doing great."
I laid the thick plastic harness down on the diner table. The raw stones inside the pouches clinked softly against the laminate top. I left the shipping tag intact, staring down at the printed words. Boss K.
"Maya," I asked softly, handing her the cup of warm water Sarah brought over. "Where did that man take you from?"
Maya swallowed a small sip of water, her small hands trembling around the paper cup. "From... from the motel in Reno," she whispered. "Two men in a big black truck took my mommy. They said if I carried the special belt to the highway diner and stayed quiet, my mommy would get to come home tomorrow."
My jaw tightened until my teeth ached. "What's your mommy's name?"
"Elena," Maya sobbed. "Elena Vasquez."
Before I could ask another question, the sharp glare of twin halogen headlights swept across the diner's front window, cutting through the dark vinyl shade.
A heavy black SUV pulled into the gravel parking lot outside, its engine idling with a deep, guttural rumble.
Sarah backed away from the window, her hand pressing against her mouth. "Marcus... that's the same black truck that drove past twenty minutes ago."
Through the thin slit between the door frame and the shade, I saw two tall men step out of the vehicle. They wore dark rain jackets, their faces obscured under wide caps. One of them held a heavy brass flashlight; the other had his right hand buried deep inside his jacket pocket.
They walked straight toward the diner entrance, their boots crunching heavily on the wet gravel.
"Sarah," I whispered, grabbing Maya's pink backpack and tucking the plastic diamond belt inside it. "Take Maya into the back manager's office right now. Lock the door from the inside and do not open it for anyone except me."