Lost Girl

by Melinda Colt

  Blazing rage burned inside Finn because Maguire truly believed what he was saying. Either he’d convinced himself, or Fraser had convinced him they were actually doing these children a favor.

  “Who else is involved in this?” John asked, sensing she needed a minute to collect herself. “How many children are you handling right now?”

  “Just those three, two lads and a lass. Seamus plans to… bring in more.”

  “So you’re saying only you and Seamus Fraser are involved in this operation?” John glowered at the man.

  “Fraser’s handling the operation. All I did was let the children stay here the night he brought them into the country. That’s all I’ve done, I swear.”

  “Did you get any of the money?” Her blood still boiling, Finn forced herself to remain calm. It was the only way to get the truth out of this monster.

  Maguire’s face got redder. “Seamus gave me some money that one time.”

  “I see,” Finn said. “What do you know about the children? Where do they come from?”

  “The girl is from England. Her father sold her to Seamus for £2,000. The boys are gypsies from Romania. I don’t know how or where Seamus got them. All he said was that their families wouldn’t miss them.”

  “How did he bring the children into Ireland?” John asked.

  Maguire was about to shrug again, so Finn moved in.

  “Are your sons involved in this operation, Mr. Ma—?”

  “No!” he shouted, even before she finished her question.

  His answer was too fast, too vehement. He’d realized it himself.

  “No,” he said again, more softly this time. “My boys have nothing to do with any of this.”

  “They both work in transportation—one of them internationally. Do you want us to believe it’s just a coincidence?”

  “I’m saying they know nothing about it.”

  “We’ll see what they have to say,” John said, standing. “In the meantime, you are being detained. You will be transported to the Garda station for questioning in the case of trafficking minors. You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you say will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidence. You are entitled to consult a solicitor and to notify another person that you are in custody.”

  All color drained from Maguire’s face, leaving him a pasty white. John reached out to grasp his arm. The man didn’t put up a fight. Finn stood close to his other side, at the ready just in case. They let him take his coat, then escorted him into the police car.

  Finn sat in the back with him, while John drove to headquarters. Using his radio, he gave the order to detain Fraser and bring him to the station. As well, he ordered the Gardaí watching the children to take them to the Garda station and contact Tusla, the Child and Family Agency. The children would need to be put into the social welfare system until their families could be located.

  Finn wasn’t sure what the protocol was, but she hoped the kids wouldn’t be sent back to families that had treated them so callously. She would do her best to see that Maddie wouldn’t be. For God’s sake, her father had sold her! That alone should obliterate any parental rights. Would she be placed in foster care here? Or would she be sent back to the UK?

  Thoughts of Maddie’s letter to Santa had Finn fighting tears. It was unlikely Maddie would get the family she dreamed of in a foster home. While some foster parents could be very kind, most of them weren’t the commercial-quality families the child craved. Finn had promised Maddie she would make sure she had a nice home, good food, and pretty things. She’d promised her she’d be well taken care of. But could she ensure Maddie would end up with a loving family? And those poor boys, what chance did they have? Roma children were discriminated against all over the world, just because of their genes and background. No one would care that they were simply innocent children.

  A crazy idea bloomed in her mind. What if she were to become Maddie’s foster parent? After the trial was over, she could adopt her. Would Maddie want her as her new mum?

  God, this was crazy! Finn bit her lip, staring out the window at the snowy trees. What did she know about motherhood? Besides, she wasn’t in any position to offer Maddie the dream family she wanted. She had no idea how Bryan would react to her suggestion of adopting the child. He could embrace it, or he could just as easily make a run for it. She didn’t know anything anymore.

  When they reached the station, John parked close to the entrance. He climbed out of the car. Finn got out too, waiting as Maguire moved his bulk out of the vehicle. He hadn’t said a word during the ride. It was just as well. Better for him to keep everything he had to say for the formal interview. Finn knew she had to play good cop and hated it, but she prepared herself to be nice to this fecker.

  Once in the interview room, Finn offered to bring him some tea. When she got back, John was seated across from Maguire and had started to record the session.

  “For the record, you waved your right to having a solicitor present at this time?”

  “Aye,” Maguire said. His posture was subdued. The whole thing must be starting to sink in.

  Finn placed the tea in front of him and gave him a faint smile.

  Maguire didn’t return it. He stared at John.

  “I don’t want my sons involved in this haymes. I won’t speak another word until you promise me that.”

  John’s jaw was tense and rigid. “Mr. Maguire, you are involved in a human trafficking operation. If your sons helped out in any way—finding, transporting, or coercing those children into doing anything against their will—they are already involved. It’s not in my power to protect them from the law.”

  “They didn’t do anything. They’re not involved in any of this, I swear.”

  Finn was sure he was lying and thought John felt the same. John was not obliged to promise anything. The Garda would alert the authorities in the UK and Poland, and Maguire’s sons would be interviewed there. For now, all they had to do was keep the man talking, without making any promises.

  “How did you get involved then?” John asked.

  Maguire started to answer, but Finn was distracted by a Garda entering the room and signaling to her. She stood, and as she made her way out of the room, her stomach tightened.

  “What is it?”

  “I just received a message from the Gardaí in charge of Fraser. They’ve lost him. He spotted them as they were preparing to apprehend him. He’s escaped.”

  Finn pressed her lips together to take control of her anger. “What about the children?”

  “They’re safe, all three of them. They’re on their way here.”

  She blew out a relieved breath. Saving the children was her priority. Sooner or later they would catch Fraser—and the careless guards who’d lost him would catch hell. John and the chief inspector would make sure of that.

  Chapter Seven

  Returning to the interview room, Finn swallowed her concern and let John continue the questioning. She’d ordered the Gardaí who’d notified her to put out an alert. Every officer had Fraser’s photo, his plate number, and was on the lookout for the son of a bitch. He might have a head start, but he wasn’t going to win this race.

  She listened as John’s questioning ate away at the pub owner. She wouldn’t distract him with the news about Fraser yet. He was doing one hell of a job with Maguire, and the man was cracking like a proverbial egg.

  In less than an hour, John had broken him. They had all the information they needed. Finn was appalled and disgusted. How could anyone think it was acceptable to traffic in human lives as though they were sacks of grain or sides of meat?

  According to Maguire, Fraser had cooked up the entire scheme. Once they’d talked the details through, he’d quit his job at the pub, ensuring no one would make a connection between them. Then he’d started recruiting the children. Wanting to start small, Fraser had gone to Romania and had returned with the two boys. The pub owner maintained that he didn’t know how Fraser h
ad brought them to Ireland. When the man had traveled to the UK to get the girl, he’d allowed the boys to stay in his cellar a few days. Apparently, Fraser had made the deal with Maddie’s father online.

  Finn’s stomach churned. She’d seen some crazy stuff in her job, but this was way out there. It became increasingly hard for her to keep her cool and stay calm.

  Once the interview was over, Maguire asked to contact Danny, his bartender, to direct him to take care of the pub until he could make other arrangements. Finn thought it was suspicious that he hadn’t wanted to speak to either of his sons. Why? They would be questioned, and she would know the truth in due time.

  As soon as the officers led Maguire to a cell, Finn informed John of Fraser’s escape, then listened to his bout of highly inventive cursing.

  “I hear ye,” she said when he finally stopped the flow of words. “And I’m as angry as you are, but we have all the Garda after him. He won’t get far.”

  “Let’s hope not. He seems to be a novice criminal, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have fake ID by now and a surgeon on standby willing to change his face.”

  Finn laughed. “You watch too much sci-fi. Fraser may be a criminal, but he’s not a very bright one—thank God.” She exhaled heavily. “I’m waiting for news of the children.”

  Within seconds, an officer announced they’d arrived and were in the conference room. Finn, her heart in her throat, rushed to join them, with John by her side.

  The children sat quietly, darting fearful glances at one another and around the room. Two social workers, both women in their thirties, spoke quietly to the children in an effort to calm them.

  Once the introductions were made, Dionne explained that the boys spoke very little English. John sent for a Romanian interpreter, and after nodding to Finn, he left the room.

  She knelt in front of Maddie, smiling. “Hey, you. How are you doing?” She reached out and caressed the girl’s hair.

  Maddie gave her a half-smile. “You’re a police officer.”

  “Yes, I am. The police worked very hard to save you, Dan, and George.”

  The children were wrapped in blankets and had been offered hot tea. Finn reached out to stroke one of the boys’ heads, but he flinched.

  “It’s okay,” she whispered, fighting tears. “You’re safe now.”

  How many horrible beatings had they taken? They had abrasions and contusions, some old, others fresh. When they didn’t bring in enough money, no doubt Fraser had punished them. Being a girl, most likely Maddie had evoked more pity and thus made more money.

  Sadly, people distrusted Roma children, associating them with the rumors and crimes blamed on adults. While it might be true for some, it was not a hard, fast rule to be generalized. Crime didn’t favor a particular race, yet prejudice existed and had since the beginning of time, with some groups more heavily affected than others.

  What would happen to these poor boys? They needed to be put into foster care, but they would also need counseling, as would Maddie. Did the social workers share her opinion?

  As for the young girl… Finn squeezed her hand. To her delight, Maddie returned the gesture, then slid off her chair and into Finn’s arms. Finn hugged her tightly, closing her eyes to prevent the tears escaping. She never wanted to let her go. Wishing she could hug all three children, take them in her arms, take them home, and care for them all, she sighed. None of that was possible—at this time.

  “Thank you,” Maddie whispered in her ear.

  “There’s no need to thank me, honey. I was doing my job. Now, you need to do yours.” Finn looked her in the eyes. “You need to tell everyone the truth. Seamus Fraser needs to be punished for what he did to all of you.”

  Maddie nodded solemnly. “I will, but you have to promise you’ll never let him hurt us again.”

  “I promise.”

  “Where will we sleep now? Will you take us home with you?”

  The child’s question was natural, but it broke Finn’s heart. She stared into Maddie’s blue eyes, unable to utter a sound.

  One of the social workers, Michelle, intervened and touched Maddie’s shoulder to get her attention.

  “Maddie, the three of you will come with Dionne and me. We’ll take you to a safe place where you can be checked over, and soon you’ll have new families.”

  The child looked at Michelle, then back at Finn. “So you can’t take me with you? Did you send my letter to Santa?”

  Knowing what the child had wished for, Finn could barely contain her tears. She nodded, swallowing more of them.

  “I did, Maddie, but it’s a busy time of year, so it might take a while before it gets there. Dionne and Michelle will take good care of the three of you. I need to leave now, but I’ll check on you as soon as I can.”

  Maddie nodded, lowered her eyes, resigned to this new fate. She would obey, as she’d been trained to do. “Okay. Thank you for saving us.”

  Finn cupped her cheek gently, then stood. Someone from Immigration had arrived, and since none of the children were Irish citizens, there was a lot of paperwork to complete. She left them to their ministrations and went outside, fishing her phone from her pocket. She called Bryan.

  “I need to talk to you,” she said as soon as he answered. “Can you meet me for lunch?”

  “Sure. Is something wrong?” Concern weighed heavy in his voice.

  “No. I mean, I don’t know. Let’s just meet and talk. I’m fine, don’t worry. See you in half an hour?” She named the pub where they ate once a month.

  “Okay, see you there.”

  * * *

  Finn drove, eyes blurry with tears. Could she really become a foster parent? How should she approach Bryan? What if he said he’d pack up and leave because he couldn’t handle that kind of responsibility? When Finn had been expecting his child, he’d been delighted, but some people instantly rejected another person’s baby. Was Bryan’s heart big enough to love Maddie? Until she heard it from him, she couldn’t get her hopes up. How could she choose between her lover and a helpless child who counted on her?

  At the pub, Bryan was already waiting for her, seated in a booth that gave them some privacy. She smiled gratefully when she saw that he’d ordered her favorite dish: potato and bacon, with a melted cheese crust. The aroma of garlic and fresh parsley made her mouth water. If only Maddie were here…

  “Hi.” Bryan got to his feet and kissed her. “What’s up?”

  She took off her coat and scarf and hung them on the nearby hook.

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “You keep saying that—and only that. I’m worried sick, Finn. What’s wrong?”

  She sat across from him and stared into his earnest blue eyes. Suddenly, she realized Maddie resembled him, having the same hair, the color of pale gold, and eyes the shade of a mountain lake.

  Inhaling deeply, she began to speak. As briefly as she could, she told Bryan about the case, about the children, and about her self-appointed mission last night. Then, she reached into the pocket of her jeans and removed Maddie’s letter.

  “She gave this to me last night. It’s a letter to Santa. Read it.”

  As Bryan read, Finn ate, watching him intently. She hardly tasted the food, the need to observe his reactions dominating everything. Her heart warmed when she saw his eyes soften, even glaze over a little with emotion, his lips pressed together in pity for the child whose innocence should be in smithereens, yet wasn’t.

  When he finished reading, he held the letter for a moment, then carefully folded it again.

  “Poor kid.” His voice was low and yet, bitter. “I believe in our system, but I know the chances of having that kind of foster family are slim, below 10 percent.”

  “We are the 10 percent.”

  Bryan looked up, startled. “What?”

  “I’ve read a book called The Ten Percent,” Finn explained. “It’s about cops who protect and serve. Even though you’re a lawyer, I think you’re in the top 10 percent of your kind—on
e of the few who actually help their clients rather than focus on just taking their money.”

  He smiled, chagrinned. “That’s not going to make us rich any time soon.”

  “I don’t care about being rich, Bryan. I want us to be happy. That’s the only thing that matters to me.” She moistened her lips, then took the plunge. “I want us to become Maddie’s foster parents.”

  Chapter Eight

  Gaping at Finn, Bryan nearly dropped his fork. “What?”

  “I want to become Maddie’s foster mum,” Finn repeated. “And when I’m allowed to, I want to adopt her.”

  Bryan pressed his fist against his mouth, eyebrows arched in disbelief.

  “Finn, you can’t be serious. You know nothing about this child. You don’t know anything about children, period.”

  “I’ll learn. She’s a sweet, smart girl who was abused in ways I don’t want to think about.”

  “Exactly. She needs special care, therapy, people who specialize in helping kids like her.”

  “Yes, I agree. She needs all that, but above all, she needs a loving family. You’ve read her letter. She’s not lost yet. With love and patience, I can help her heal and become a normal little girl.”

  “Are you sure about that? So far, all you know about her gene pool is that she comes from a family of degenerate alcoholics and druggies who sold her for 2,000 lousy pounds. How can you know what kind of person she’ll become, or what lies within her?”

  “Don’t go there, Bryan,” she said softly. “You of all people should not judge a person by their parents.”

  Bryan held her gaze for a moment, then looked away. It was snowing again, and droplets of condensation ran down the window—a sign that it had gotten colder.

  “That was below the belt, Finn,” he said quietly.

  She reached out and took his hand, ashamed that she’d referred to his own parents to make her point. His father was a drunk; his mother had spread her legs for anyone who would give her a pack of cigarettes. Finn couldn’t imagine living in such a family. Bryan had severed all connections with them years ago.