Chapter 23
Once I knew she was okay, I told her I needed to make another call before we left.
She stared up, suddenly hesitant. “Are you really gonna take me to my mom?” She looked like she couldn’t believe it was true. Then again, this was a lot for her to take in.
“Yes,” I said earnestly. “I swear I am. But we’re not on the right highway to meet her, and I don’t have a smart phone to look it up. I’m going to ask my friend to give me directions.” When she didn’t look convinced, I said, “I swear to you, Emily. I’m taking you to your mom.”
Her face softened. “Okay.”
I hugged her again. “If you need to go to the bathroom, now would be a good time. As soon as I get off the phone, we’re going.”
Then I headed outside, called Carter, and filled him in on my latest development. “Can you figure out a good place to meet them?” I asked.
“Have them come to you,” he said, sounding irritated. “You found their daughter. The least they can do is drive three hours to get her.”
I heaved out a sigh. “If you’re worried about me being too far from Little Rock, then find a place closer.
Because I am meeting them somewhere on I-40, and I’m currently on I-30.
I can figure it out myself, but I still have the cheap burner, and I’d rather take the time asking her questions about Knox’s operation than spend it looking up directions. ”
“All the more reason not to meet her parents anywhere until you get all the information you can,” he grumbled.
“Carter,” I said in frustration. “I have a traumatized thirteen-year-old girl who has been abused in countless ways, and all she wants right now is her mother.”
“Okay,” he conceded, sounding contrite. “You’re right. But this is an opportunity to get more information. You’re letting emotion rule your decision-making.”
Was I?
James said I was the heart of our team, but he’d pull me back if my heart ever got in the way. He wasn’t here, though, so was I letting emotion overrule good judgment?
It didn’t matter, I decided. I wasn’t going to delay Emily’s reunion with her mother over hopes she had useful information. She’d been through enough.
“No,” I said firmly. “I’ll get whatever I can from her on the drive. Go ahead and make the meeting location halfway, and that’ll give me more time. Emily was at the lowest level of the operation, and she’s only been there four months. She’s not going to know much.”
He didn’t respond and I was sure he was about to berate me or tell me to figure it out on my own, but instead he laughed.
“I knew you were perfect for Skeeter.” Then he turned serious.
“Fine. You’re right. She probably doesn’t know much.
You should have plenty of time to talk it through in the car. ”
“Thanks.” I paused, tense when I asked, “Have you heard from him?”
“Not yet.”
“Do you know whether his backup has arrived?”
“I can confirm that they have,” he said, sounding like an attorney and not a friend. His tone was ominous, but he’d tell me if James had run into trouble.
“If you hear anything, will you let me know?”
“I will if you’ll do the same.”
“Deal,” I said. “And thanks.”
Minutes later, Emily and I were in the car, only this time I insisted she sit in the front with me. She gave me a shy smile, and I reached over and squeezed her hand in reassurance.
I’d barely left the parking lot when Carter called and said he was texting me a location, along with directions. I pulled over before I got on the highway and called Anna to set the meeting, confirming we should be there in about an hour and a half.
Emily was quiet for the first fifteen minutes of the drive, and I let her sit in silence.
I suspected she wouldn’t fully believe she was going to be reunited with her mother until she saw Anna with her own eyes.
What she’d been through over the last few hours, let alone the past four months, would be a lot for anyone, let alone a thirteen-year-old girl.
But once she realized we were really headed toward Fayetteville, she relaxed and seemed open to answering questions about her friends and her family. Then she began to open up about what she’d been through.
Buddy had found her online, sending her DMs on Instagram from the profile of a teen boy named Sebastion.
He’d started out by telling her how pretty she was and convincing her that her mother was a horrible person who didn’t understand her or care about her.
He told Emily he was sixteen—still too old for her—but she was flattered by his attention.
After a few months of messaging, he convinced her to meet him in person, telling her he’d pick her up after school in his car.
He gave her his car’s description and told her he’d park a block from the school so she wouldn’t get in trouble.
Then, to be extra safe—in case someone was watching and would tell her parents or the school—he told her to get in the backseat.
When she approached the car, she was hesitant to get in. The windows were tinted, and while she could see someone sitting in the front, she couldn’t make out his features. But ultimately, she decided she really wanted to meet him and got in.
Only when she got in the car, she realized the man in the front didn’t look anything like the photos of the boy she’d been talking too.
She’d tried to leave, but the door was locked—child proofed.
Buddy, who was behind the wheel, assured her that he was Sebastion’s older brother and that Sebastian had to stay after school for a project.
Sebastion hadn’t wanted to cancel on her, so Buddy had agreed to pick her up.
To make up for the change in plans, Sebastion had asked Buddy to pick up her favorite Boba drink.
Even though she’d felt uncomfortable, she’d taken his words at face value. Besides, how would a random man, driving the same car as Sebastion’s, know her favorite drink? He pulled away from the curb, and she gulped it down.
The next thing she remembered was waking up in a bare bedroom, on a mattress on the floor.
I didn’t ask her what they’d asked her to do or how they’d trained her to do it.
I didn’t want her reliving any of it with me.
She needed to save that for a therapist. But I did ask her questions about the operations.
How many girls had she seen? How many had been moved?
How many handlers were there? What names had she heard?
As expected, she didn’t know much, but she’d seen Nixon a few days before.
He’d come by the house and said he had a shipment coming in from Texas in five days, but the big boss was on edge and had considered cancelling it. She had no idea who the big boss was.
“Can you tell me what Nixon looks like?”
She bit her bottom lip. “He’s tall and kinda scary lookin’.”
“How so?”
“He’s got big arm muscles and he has scary eyes. Mean.”
I gave a slow nod. “What color are his hair and eyes?”
“He’s got black hair.” She touched her ear. “It’s pretty short, like kind of shaved. And he had a beard that’s kind of scruffy.”
“And his eyes?”
“I didn’t really pay attention.” She shuddered. “I don’t like to look at his eyes.”
When she’d finished telling me everything she could remember, she looked over at me and asked quietly, “Are you really a PI?”
“Yeah, Emily. I am.” I shot her a look. “Sorry I lied about who I was before, but I wanted to get you out of there, and it seemed like the best way at the time. I didn’t think you’d come if I told you I was there to save you.”
She nodded, glancing down at her hands in her lap. “You’re right. I would have been too scared.” She looked up again. “What are you investigating?”
I drew in a breath, wondering how much to tell her, then decided to go with the truth. “My partner and I are going to bring down the big boss.”
“Nixon’s boss?”
“Yep. And Nixon too.”
“And Buddy?”
I gave her a half-smile. “He’s already been captured.”
“By the guy in Buddy’s car?”
“Yeah.”
She was silent again. “What happens to Maya and all the other girls?”
“They’ll be free,” I said.
“But Maya really doesn’t have anywhere to go,” she said softly. “Her stepdad kicked her out.”
That’s what I was afraid of. Those girls were living in hell, but some of their living situations before hadn’t been much better.
“I’m not going to tell you any more lies, Emily, so here’s the truth.
” I glanced over at her. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to her.
But it has to be better than what you girls lived through. ”
She turned to look out the window. “I don’t know. She said at least Buddy gave her something to eat. She didn’t always have that before.”
My heart sank, but I didn’t have an answer. And I’d promised I wouldn’t lie. So I changed the subject.
“Your parents will probably want you to talk to the police,” I said carefully.
She shook her head, panicking. “No!”
I covered her hand with my own. “Ordinarily, I’d tell you to talk to them, but in this case—”
She looked up at me with wide eyes. “Amber, the police really are bad. Buddy said Nixon and the big boss have policemen who work for them.”
“I believe you,” I said, “which is why I’m discussing it with you now. I think that’s what your parents will want you to do, but I’m going to try to convince them not to. Okay?”
She nodded, still anxious but looking more appeased.
I glanced at her again. “Do you remember Buddy or Nixon talking about the police and using their names?”
She shook her head.
“Did you ever see any of the police? Did they come to the house?”
She started to shake her head, then stopped. “Wait. I saw a guy one time. Out at one of the truck stops when I first started. He stopped and talked to Buddy while I was working the trucks.”
“Was he wearing a uniform?”
“No. He was wearing a suit. Maya was working the truck stop with me. She told me he was a cop, and if I messed up, Buddy would let him take me.”
Maya sounded like a first-class bitch, then again, she might have parroted what she’d been told.