Chapter 18
CINDY THOMAS PACED in front of her open computer.
She was in the middle of a Zoom call with her agent, Bob Barnett.
The DC-based literary agent had guided her through several tricky negotiations with nonfiction books.
Cindy appreciated his insights. But his calm personality and demeanor meant just as much.
She could see on the screen that Bob was looking at the photographs she’d sent him of the missing girls. She knew that look of concentration, where a weird little wrinkle ran up the middle of his forehead.
Finally, Cindy couldn’t wait any longer and said, “Well, what do you think, Bob?”
He mumbled, “Interesting.”
She knew that was one of the “placeholder” words he used while he was thinking. Some of the others were “unusual,” “thought-provoking,” “it has possibilities,” “let me think about this.” She let him continue to look at the girls and read the short synopsis she’d written for him.
Bob glanced up at the camera on his own computer. He had a paternal look. Cindy wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.
Then he said, “There are a lot of ifs in this proposal.”
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“If these girls didn’t run away from home, then we have to ask if their disappearances are connected.
Then if they are somehow connected, the police must wonder if the girls went with someone willingly or not.
Then we have to worry about the practical side of the book.
If there’s a real story here, would we be able to sell it?
We could, if it’s compelling enough. This may be a little premature. ”
Cindy sat in her desk chair so that she was also looking directly into the camera of her computer. “Bob, I know it’s early. I have a gut feeling telling me to jump into this with both feet. Tell me what you think. Is there enough for a nonfiction book?”
As he did with everything, Bob Barnett took his time in answering. Slowly he nodded his head. “There’s enough here for a compelling story, but I don’t know if it’d be a big hit financially. That makes it problematic for the New York publishers.”
“So you don’t think I should proceed?”
“I didn’t say that. If these girls are part of some human-trafficking ring, this is an important story.
This is a story that needs to get out into the public.
The public may not want to read about it, but we need to bring it to their attention.
And we’ll need a title. The victims are young, attractive—and there are more of them than anyone realizes. ”
“Dozens, in this case, maybe more.”
“What if we call the book 26 Beauties?”
Cindy nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. It may not have been the overwhelming and rousing endorsement she had been hoping for, but it was definitely positive.
Bob said, “My big concern is that it could be dangerous. You don’t need to add extra threats to your life.”
Cindy was well aware of what could happen. She’d been in plenty of dangerous situations before. “Why do you think this is any more hazardous than usual?” she asked.
“If these girls really are part of some kind of human-trafficking scheme, then the people who run that scheme aren’t Boy Scouts. The kind of people who coerce young women would have no qualms about killing a reporter.”