Chapter 18
18
T he pungent scent of oil and dirt assaulted Clara’s senses, making her dizzy. The garage door remained closed, blocking out all the natural light. A four-wheeler and dirt bike were parked in the middle of the room on the concrete floor. Old tools sat on top of a long work bench stretched along the back wall, and an unmade cot took up the corner closest to the house.
She hesitated, reaching for the cool cinder block wall for stability. Mitch had been right there all night. If Hope and Fred had been honest when they’d had the chance, he’d be in jail right now. Not gone with their children, leaving her with bruises and a broken heart.
Concern wrinkled Heath’s brow. “Are you okay? Do you need to sit?”
She wished she could take a minute to do just that. To sit, to lay down, to scream out her frustration and pain. But none of that would do a lick of good. As long as her two legs would carry her, she’d stay upright.
“I’m fine,” she said, forcing a small smile. “Let’s get this over with.”
She hated being here. In this house, in this place. When she’d first started dating Mitch, they’d spent a lot of time at his parents’ house. At the time, she’d thought it sweet he wanted to have family dinners and movie nights with his mom and dad.
As time passed, she could see it for what it really was. Using his mom to subtly manipulate her. Using his relationship with his dad to make her feel sorry for him. Mitch convinced her that he wanted to do better than his father. That he’d learned from his parents’ marriage, and he’d hoped showing them a loving relationship could benefit them as well.
She’d realized too late that he’d learned a lot from his father. How to be a bully, an abuser, a grade-A asshole.
Hope stood in the doorway, her feet firmly planted in the kitchen as she stared into the garage. She watched them with wary eyes.
Clara fought the urge to shake the woman and demand more information, but she doubted Hope knew more than she’d already divulged. “Did Mitch have a bag or anything with him while he was here?”
Hope shrugged. “I don’t know. He came to the back door last night and asked to stay for a few nights. Fred said he’d handle it and told me to keep my mouth shut, so I did. I gave Mitch a hug then left them alone. I didn’t ask questions or pay attention to if he had anything. I assume if he did, he’d have taken it with him when he left.”
Heath circled the cot. He dropped to the ground and glanced under the small space then stood and walked the perimeter of the room. “I don’t see anything.” He made his way to the workbench and picked up discarded tools as if something lurked under them.
Hopelessness swelled inside Clara like a tsunami, pushing away the pain and leaving her a shell of herself. Tears blurred her vision. “He’s had them for too long. He could be anywhere, and we have no clue where to look.”
“I gave you a few minutes, and there’s nothing here.” Hope glanced over her shoulder as she spoke. “You need to leave now.”
“What are we supposed to do?” Clara screeched and the volume made her head pound. “How can you not be more upset? How are you okay with all of this? Do you know what he’s capable of? What he’d do to them just to hurt me?”
Rage shot through her veins, and she grabbed the crumpled blankets and yanked them off the temporary bed. She didn’t care if she looked like a tantruming toddler. The urge to destroy something, to lash out, was too strong to ignore and her body was too broken to actually hit anything.
Something skittered across the floor and slid under the four-wheeler.
“Hold on a second,” Heath said and hurried across the room and reached under the vehicle.
“What is it?” Clara asked.
He stood, his face pinched and palm outstretched.
A gasp caught in Clara’s throat. “The flash drive. Do you think it’s the one that he hid in Avery’s stuffed dog?”
Finally stepping into the garage, Hope frowned. “I don’t understand. What’s the big deal?”
Something inside Clara snapped. No longer would she keep her mouth shut. Would she not speak the truth because of fear or to avoid conflict. Hope might not need to know everything Mitch was up to, but she should know she’d raised a monster.
“The big deal is your son is more than an abuser,” Clara said. “He not only gets off on inflicting as much pain on me as possible but gets his twisted kicks watching others being tortured in ways I can’t even begin to explain. To innocent children.”
Hope shook her head and stumbled backward. “That’s a lie. You’re lying. You’ve made him do these horrible things. If you’d been a better wife or a better mother, no?—”
“Enough,” Clara yelled, refusing to hear another word. “I know the hell you live with and I’m sorry you’ve never found a way out. I’m sorry you’re stuck in this house with a man who doesn’t know your worth or treat you with the love and respect you deserve. But you need to open your eyes, open your mind and your heart, and see what’s really going on.”
Her limited energy leaked from her system, and she reached out a hand for Heath.
He rushed to her side, linking his fingers with hers and gently cupping his free palm under her elbow. “We should take this into Owen. The FBI will be there, and they’ll want to see this if it’s evidence.”
“The FBI?” Hope’s voice quivered. “I don’t understand any of this. Mitch was always a good boy. All he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were—back to normal. This doesn’t make any sense.”
As they passed Hope, Clara gripped her shoulder. “I hope one day you realize you deserve better. Better from your husband and better from your son.”
They continued walking toward the front door, leaving the sound of Hope’s desperate cries behind them.
* * *
Heath set a bottle of water and a protein bar in front of Clara then took a seat beside her at the conference table at the sheriff’s station. He hadn’t convinced her to eat anything on the brief drive to the station, and the ashy pallor of her skin alarmed him.
She unscrewed the cap and took a sip before placing the bottle back on the table. “Thanks.”
“You need to eat something.”
“I don’t think I can handle anything in my stomach right now, but I’ll keep drinking the water. I promise.”
He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles as Owen stepped inside with a woman in a well-pressed black suit behind him.
Owen opted to sit across from Clara. “How you holding up?”
“Not well.”
He dipped his chin, mouth pressed in a firm line, then motioned toward the woman. “This is Special Agent Tinsdale from the FBI. She’s here regarding the crimes we found on Mitch’s computer.”
Clara closed her eyes for a beat, and when she opened them again, agony shone through. “This has to be a nightmare.”
Agent Tinsdale stayed on her feet and clutched a manilla file folder in her hands. Her dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail and empathy managed to slip through the firm lines of her face. “I can’t say I understand how you’re feeling, but I do know that we are using all our resources to locate your ex-husband and your children.”
Her statement set Heath on edge. The FBI would only be using their resources to find Davey and Avery if they thought they were connected with the case they’d come here to investigate. As much as he wanted to keep any disturbing thoughts away from Clara, he had to know the details of the FBI’s involvement. “What kind of danger do you think the children are in right now?”
“It’s hard to tell,” Agent Tinsdale said, pinning him with her deadpan stare. “What I do know is we’ve dealt with a sex trafficking ring in this area before.”
Clara gasped. “Oh my god. You don’t think Mitch would do that to his own children, do you? How would he even get involved with something so horrible? I know I tried my hardest to ignore him, but I have to believe I would have noticed if he was doing something so despicable.”
The agent set the file on the table and flipped it open. She slid out a mugshot of a man with long, red hair and a matching beard. “In my experience, people are very good at hiding their dirty deeds. There’s no exact type to look for in these situations, I wish there was. However, I believe I’ve figured out how your ex got involved in this particular crime ring. This is Ryan Pierce. We believe Ryan and Mitch crossed paths after Mitch’s first arrest last year.”
Heath grabbed the photo and studied the beady eyes and angry sneer. “You think Mitch met him while he was serving time?”
“I do. He was one of the leaders of the crime ring we shut down a few years back. They were using the old campground—which is now Crossroads Mountain Retreat—as a place to hide girls. Once we arrested the leaders, the rest of the rats scattered. We’d hoped that was the end of things, but a few months back we learned otherwise. We believe Ryan Pierce is pulling stings from behind bars, and Mitch is one of those strings.”
“You’re insinuating that you believe Mitch isn’t just a pervert who downloaded incriminating videos on his computer but someone on the inside,” Heath said.
“The information on the flash drive you and Clara found told us exactly how involved Mitch is,” Owen said.
“I think I’m going to be sick.” Clara covered her mouth with one hand while the other clung to Heath. “Why would he do this? I mean, he’s never been a great guy. I know that more than anyone. But how could he veer down such an ugly path?”
“My guess,” Agent Tinsdale said. “He bonded with Ryan Pierce who exploited that friendship. I understand Mitch lost his job as a teacher and was struggling financially after that. I’m sure he was pissed at the world as well as unsure how he’d make a living when he got out of prison. Pierce is a professional criminal. He knows what to look for and what buttons to push. Mitch was an easy target.”
“And now he has my babies and could possibly throw them into this disgusting world.”
“He also left behind a key piece of evidence,” Agent Tisdale said. “With a location.”
Heath sat straighter. “You know where he is? Why the hell are we all just sitting around talking?”
“Hold on.” Owen lifted a palm to stop Heath from flying up and jumping into action. “The FBI has been digging into this for months and had zeroed in on probable locations where these children are being held. What was on that flash drive coincides with one of the locations the FBI has been scouting.”
“Could the kids be there?” Clara asked, her voice no more than a whisper.
“We’re going to find out,” Owen said. “We’re putting together a team. We’ll be heading that way within the hour.”
Clara jumped to her feet then hissed out a breath as she gripped the edge of the table. “Go now! If Davey and Avery are in that house, I don’t want them there a minute longer than they have to be. Hell, if any child is trapped in some house of horrors, they need rescued immediately.”
“We want this to happen as quickly as you do, but we have to smart about it,” Agent Tisdale said. “We can’t rush in first and think later. That could not only put the officers at risk, but also any potential children we may find. Trust me, I’ve headed up these types of rescue missions numerous times. We will do it the right way, and we will get anyone we find out safely.”
“I’m going with you,” Clara said, steel in her voice.
Heath rested a hand on her elbow and tried to guide her back down to her chair.
She refused to budge.
“Clara, you need to let the FBI and the deputies do their jobs. Exposing yourself to harm won’t do anyone any good,” Heath said.
She stared daggers at him and shrugged off his hand. “If my babies are there, they’ll need their mother.”
He wanted to argue, to assure her that Owen and the rest of the men and women assigned to this task was up for the job. But he knew her. Knew that nothing would keep her away if there was even a chance the children were in this place.
“What if I go?” Heath asked. “The kids know me. They trust me. I can get them out and bring them back to you.”
“I think that’s the best option,” Owen cut in. “You can stay here, and Heath will be in constant contact.”
“No.” She folded her arms across her chest, issuing a silent challenge to everyone in the room. “I’m not asking for permission. I’m telling you, I want to be there.”
Owen opened his mouth to speak, but she silenced him with narrowed eyes.
“What if it was Nora?” she asked, speaking of Owen’s little girl. “Would Marie stay behind. Would she sit here and worry and wait while someone else searched for her child?”
Owen scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “No, she wouldn’t.”
“And neither would I. Heath will go in the house, and I’ll wait in the car. And nothing anyone says will change my mind.”
Owen held up a hand. “But, if she understood that her presence could potentially risk an FBI operation, as well as put more than her children at danger, she would make the difficult decision to stay behind and trust the professionals. Whether she liked it or not.”
The slump in Clara’s shoulders told Heath she saw Owen’s logic, even if she didn’t want to. He rested a hand on her forearm, drawing her attention his way. “You’re still a target, honey. Mitch wants to get his hands on you, and sitting around in a car by yourself gives him the perfect opportunity to get you. I played into his hands before, I don’t want to do that again. Please. Stay here so my mind isn’t divided between you and the kids.”
Tears dripped over her long lashes. “I hate this, but you’re right. I’ll stay and trust you to bring them home.”