Chapter 19
CINDY REALLY WANTED to talk, so we decided to meet for a very late lunch. I let her pick, and she decided on the Tempest Bar and Boxed Kitchen on Natoma Street.
The place wasn’t terribly crowded. We had grabbed a table in a corner.
Our waiter either had a very dry sense of humor or was just dull as dirt.
I couldn’t tell which. I didn’t really care as long as he kept our orders straight.
If I got Cindy’s tofu tacos instead of my hamburger with garlic fries, there could be a disturbing-the-peace complaint against me.
Cindy wanted to talk about the missing girls and her fact-finding mission earlier today. “They have to be connected somehow. San Julio is such a small area that three girls missing can’t be a coincidence.”
“I agree, but don’t forget that San Julio is near a direct highway into San Francisco. It’s not like they lived on a farm in Kansas during the Depression. People have a lot of options around here.”
Cindy said, “You think it could be some kind of trafficking ring?”
That caught me by surprise. That was exactly what I’d been worried about. I hadn’t discussed that theory with Cindy. I slowly nodded my head and said, “That is a possibility.”
“And you don’t think it’s important to get it out into public?”
“You got me there. It is an important story. If it’s the story at all. There’s a lot we have to look into still.”
“That’s understood. But we need to start somewhere.”
“That’s hard to argue with. Okay, so tell me more about what you found out when you went to San Julio.”
“Aside from the other two missing girls, I found out that the San Julio Police Department thinks Eric Snaff is a suspect in his daughter’s disappearance.”
“If that’s true, why would he come to you to investigate?”
Cindy shook her head. “I haven’t figured that out yet. When I spoke to him, he seemed sincere. I felt genuine sorrow from him about his missing daughter. But now I just don’t know.”
“Investigations never follow a straight line. They always veer in one direction or the other. But I’d be careful. Especially around Eric. Don’t meet with him alone again.”
Cindy nodded. Then she said, “I also met someone I think will be a good contact. A youth worker named Gina, who works at the same facility as Eric.”
“What does she say about Eric?”
“She likes him. She says he’s a good guy.”
“If he’s a suspect in his daughter’s disappearance, how does that play into the potential that this is a human-trafficking ring?”
“Just because he’s a suspect in his daughter’s disappearance doesn’t mean he’s not involved with trafficking.”
Now it was my turn to nod silently.
“In some of my research, I’ve discovered that parents can be involved.
Often it’s in poor countries, where they essentially sell their children.
But parents being involved in trafficking has been documented in Europe and the US.
Some people consider it a form of Munchausen syndrome by proxy.
A way to get sympathy and recognition from the community.
That could be why Eric wants a story written about him and his daughter.
It may also have to do with finances. I can’t imagine people who work in youth services get paid all that much. ”
It all sounded plausible, if unlikely.
After a few moments, I said, “Joe goes out on leads regarding missing and exploited children sometimes. The FBI gets a lot of those kinds of tips. I could ask him if you could come along on one of them so you can get a feel for how the investigations work.”
“Really? You’d do that? I will buy you lunch for the next six months.”
I smiled and let out a little laugh. “That’s not necessary. Three months is plenty.”
We chatted about different strategies, as well as the dangers involved in a case like this.
I said, “I’ll help where I can. I’m still looking at homicide cases, but who knows how they might intersect.”
Cindy smiled and rubbed her hands together. “This is how I dreamed becoming a reporter would be. Looking into something that’s important.”
Our food arrived and the waiter set the hamburger with garlic fries in front of me. I’m sure he didn’t realize it, but it probably saved his life.