Butterfly Girl

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Butterfly Girl Page 25

by Rona Jameson


  All I can think about is Wren being alone and scared. The Reverend could have her locked up again. She hates the dark because of the years he’s abused her. That bastard has a lot to answer for—and those girls—that’s just really fucked up. “Wait,” I snap, leaning on the table, “Did the coast guard find the girls?”

  Jeremiah frowns. “What girls?” He glances between the two of us. “What girls, Rafael?”

  “There’s a team on the way, right?” Dad asks.

  “I think I’m missing some information,” Jeremiah says carefully, going silent.

  My pulse pounds in my ears as the realization of what he’s saying slowly starts to sink into my brain. I move my gaze to Dad and see the same look of shock on his face.

  Dad slowly says, “Are you telling me that you have no idea about the drugs in the computers, or the two girls we found? Is there a team on the way?”

  Jeremiah sits forward and holds Dad’s gaze before turning to look into mine. Then he curses, and slams his fist on the table, causing pens to bounce. “You messaged Ken?” He shakes his head and paces. “I put his distraction down to his wife’s death, eight months ago. But this, now, explains how he paid for the private health care she received. He said he’d taken out a loan. I didn’t check because I fucking trusted him.”

  “We don’t know for certain that he’s done anything wrong. He could be on his way here.” Dad is giving the guy the benefit of the doubt but, from the look on his face, I’m not sure if he believes his own words.

  Jeremiah reaches for his phone, pulls up his contacts and dials before holding it up to his ear. He lets it ring for a while and then slams it down. “That asshole never misses a call.”

  “I agree.” Dad stands. “It explains how the girls disappeared so quickly.” He shakes his head. “I messaged him photographs I took with my phone of the drugs and the girls. They would have had time to move them while we were back here getting supplies together to go get them out of the cell.”

  Jeremiah looks confused, and I take pity on him and tell him everything about the tunnels, from what we found to the sound of a boat slushing through the water. The more I speak, the angrier he becomes.

  “Send me the pictures. I’ll get the warrant and the team, and the coast guard.” He stands. “Send them now. I’m going to call the boss.” He disappears into the front room and we hear mumbling.

  “I can’t believe Ken would do this.”

  “You didn’t want to believe a friend could betray you, Dad. Maybe he had no choice in the beginning and ended up being indebted to them. You don’t know the circumstances.”

  “Nothing he can say will explain how he can be involved with these people. I know this happens. People with connections are the ones who get the majority of drugs into the country. Turning a blind eye here and there. I never expected it from Ken.”

  “He wouldn’t hurt Wren, would he?” I ask, needing reassurance. It doesn’t matter, though, because no matter what Dad replies, I’ll still worry until I have her with me.

  “I wish I knew.”

  “The boss is getting things moving. He called the coast guard while I was on the phone, they’ve launched a search in Laguna Madre. If they’re still between here and Padre Island, they will be found.” Jeremiah pauses. “The Reverend is a little fish in the pond, and I have a feeling we are going to be catching much bigger fish within the next few hours.”

  “I can’t sit here waiting. We have to find Wren and Silas. Because if Ken is involved, then he knows who Silas is, and who he’s working for. That isn’t good.” I pace. “What if he’s got them in the underground cell?” I stop and face them. “It would make sense, right? They move out the girls so we can’t find them, and so the cell is free. They shove Wren and Silas in there. Only we know about the tunnels, or at least that’s what Ken thinks.”

  Shaking his head, Jeremiah says, “By now Ken will presume you’ve spoken to me, and in turn, I’ve reported him to the boss. I don’t think they’d be stupid enough to put them where they can be easily found.”

  “If they just want them out of the way for a short time, then it’s the perfect place to keep them,” Dad adds.

  “I’m going back.” I grab my weapon from the side table, but find my arm clenched in Jeremiah’s hand.

  “What happens if that’s what they expect? We get ambushed.” He shakes his head. “We have to think and be smart. They know we are on their trail. Three things that are distracting us from the objective at the moment are the whereabouts of Wren, Silas, and Ken’s betrayal. Each one is important, but not the objective. You found two girls who have been moved by boat. We need to know if they are the only ones, who took them, what is their final destination. We know they are selling drugs in kilos, but we don’t know where their destination is either. We don’t even know who the key players are. There is so much unknown right now, and the only one who I bet does know all this, is living next door to you.”

  My eyes widen in surprise. “I should have thought about him.” I shake my head disgusted with myself. “He’s home. Let’s go!”

  Jeremiah winces and shakes his head. “He isn’t there.”

  “Great! Do you know where he is?”

  “Not exactly,” he admits.

  “Oh, fucking great!” I storm around the kitchen and kick a chair over, snapping its leg in the process. “Why the fuck does no one know where the hell everyone is?”

  “Calm down before you break something else.” Dad moves the chair out of the way.

  “He was home not too long ago because he shouted to me from Wren’s bedroom window.” I pause. “He’s gone through the tunnels,” I whisper aloud. “I’m not going to sit here while he knows where Wren is. You can either come with me or stay here, but I’m going.” I glare.

  Dad sighs and then laughs. “You’re as pigheaded as me. Give us a few minutes to get a plan together and let the team on the way know where we’re going. Then we’ll go and find Wren. And Silas.”

  44

  WREN

  IT’S FREEZING!

  If it hadn’t been for Silas, I’d have turned to an icicle in this cave. Perhaps an overactive imagination with that thought but he really is keeping me warm. Maria is wrapped in Silas’s jacket, while my uncle has an arm around my shoulders for body heat. He’s a stranger to me, but something about him and the way he’s being protective is a comfort.

  I’m scared, though. Silas knows the man who was at the shack when we arrived. I’ve seen him too. No way will he let us go now. Why would these men need me to make sure the Reverend doesn’t betray them? He wouldn’t do anything to protect me. Part of me wonders if he really has been thinking about double-crossing those men. They sure are not anyone I’d want to do business with. One thing I know without question is that Rafael will be looking for me, along with his father. At least I have them to hold on to.

  I’ve never been a fighter—apart from once or twice—I’ve always given in to the demands of the Reverend. Only because I figured it was safer that way. Now, though, now I have to fight to get out of this hole. That’s what it is too. A hole in the ground with stale air conditioning that I’m sure has been set to artic.

  Shivering against Silas, he tightens his hold, rubbing up and down along my arm. Because of our position, I feel him tense, then I feel the thud of men moving toward us through the ground. “Whatever happens, Wren, stay strong, okay? I have every faith in Marcel and Rafael. They will find you. Do not give up,” Silas says, determination in his voice as the door opens and light floods the room.

  I don’t recognize the men, which means they must have arrived with Ezequiel.

  “Vamos!” the taller man shouts, pointing at me and then Maria. “Vamos!” he yells, getting annoyed while the other man tries to get the lock opened. The moment it clunks open and the door swings wide, they point their weapons at Silas.

  “Te quedas!” The same man says to Silas.

  Why does he want Silas to stay, and us to go with them?

/>   I cast a glance at Silas, and realize he knew this would happen. Without taking his eyes from the men, he whispers, “They can’t let me go because I know who the other man is. I can do a lot of damage.” He pulls me into his arms and continues whispering into my ear. “Remember that the Reverend also has something that Ezequiel wants.” He growls, “But you are safe, for now at least.” He puts me away from him and waves his arm. “They won’t hurt you because Ezequiel will kill them if they do.” He glares over at the two men in warning—a warning which they understand.

  My legs are unsteady as I stand. Partly because I’m cold but mostly because I’m scared. Maria trembles hard, so I take her arm into mine and help her to move out of the cell. The moment we are clear of the door, I turn and glance back at Silas. “I love you, Uncle Silas.” Tears drip from my eyes while the taller guy grabs me and the other one grabs Maria. My gaze stays on my uncle until I can no longer see him.

  The smelly men laugh as they half-drag and half-carry us out of the dark hole. I only understand Spanish if it’s spoken clearly rather than mumbled. So, I can’t quite understand what they’re saying now, which is frustrating.

  As they push us out of the cave, I realize we’ve been down there for hours. The early morning sun is slowly rising on the horizon as we are led into the clearing. There isn’t as much activity today as there had been last night. Only three cars and a handful of men that I can see.

  To my surprise, the Reverend steps out of a black SUV not looking his usual put together self. He looks as though he’s slept in the clothes he’s wearing, and his hair is greasy. I frown as he approaches, tilting my head to the side as I try to understand what is happening or what he is about to do.

  I don’t flinch when he reaches out and wraps a loose strand of my hair around his finger before letting it go. He looks sad. That can’t be right, though. Is he sad they have me? Or for some other reason? He doesn’t look scared, which is what I am—not just for me, but for Maria too.

  “Can I ask you a question?” I swallow hard and wait for his acknowledgement.

  He slowly nods.

  “Why did you give us all a journal and the uniforms on the same day? Why do it at all if this whole town was about drugs and trafficking?”

  “A distraction,” he replies absentmindedly. “I knew exactly who Marcel and Rafael DeLacroix were. They’d come sniffing around town because of Joy and Roman. I knew they would eventually find something. Since I am a man of God, and the town is under my influence, I decided to use that as a distraction. It worked long enough for me to finish off everything I needed to do.” He shakes his head before his eyes meet mine and he searches my gaze. “I’m sorry, Wren. You could have grown up with a mother, but instead I let her believe you’d died all those years ago. I tell myself I got you and she got your brother, but I wanted you both.”

  “How?” I barely whisper as fresh tears slip down my face and drip from my chin.

  The Reverend moves closer and cups my face in his hands, wiping at my tears. I don’t have any strength left in me to move away, but the need for the truth is holding me in place.

  “Please tell me why she thought I was dead. What did you do to make her believe that?”

  He sighs. “I knew what was about to happen—the raid. So that night I gave you a general anesthetic, which lowered your respiratory rate and made you extremely pale. The moment one of my men led her from the room, the doctor gave you a concoction of drugs to bring you around. I honestly thought my plan had backfired at first because you didn’t respond.” He offers a wry smile. “As you can see, it worked in the end.”

  The slamming of a car door forces the Reverend to step away from me. Under his breath, he whispers, “You won’t believe me, but I really am sorry, Wren.”

  A sob practically chokes me, sending me to my knees. “You killed her! You killed her and she never knew I was alive,” I scream at his back.

  He ignores me but I do see him flinch as my words hit, causing him to pause mid-step before he climbs into the SUV and drives away.

  “Hmm,” Ezequiel mutters, staring at the disappearing vehicle. “I do believe the Reverend meant his words.” He turns to look at me and with a wave of his hand, his men have me on my feet. “You will not lower yourself like that again.”

  “What are you going to do to us?” I question, swiping at my face with hands that tremble.

  “Nothing.” He pauses. “If I get what I want.” Ezequiel gives his men orders in rapid Spanish.

  “Silas?” I shout as Ezequiel turns his back.

  He slowly turns to face me again, his eyes narrowing into slits. “I am sure you already know the fate of your uncle.”

  The big man behind me grabs me up in his arms and carries me to a white SUV before I even have time to think about what Ezequiel said. I already know. Maria is pushed into the car and then the doors are swiftly locked. Both men, who had taken us from the cell, climb into the front of the car and then toss us a sandwich each and a bottle of water. I glance at them warily. Anything could be inside the water.

  “Comer, beber.” Eat, drink.

  Maria rips into the sandwich and starts eating—starved. I’m more reluctant.

  “It is good,” she says. “Why are you not eating?”

  Watching us from the rearview mirror, the drivers starts the SUV. He has a permanent scowl on his face, and I don’t know whether to risk eating or not. I’m hungry and if they plan on drugging us, they would put it in the water instead of the food, I think. I actually want to be right as my belly grumbles. Turning the chicken sandwich over in my hands, I peel the clear packaging away, and take a small bite. Chicken and mayonnaise hit my taste buds and I become hungrier than I thought I was.

  “The sandwich is good. I bought it from the store in town. Mrs. Garcia. Si!” the man who has only spoken Spanish says, gaining a sharp retort from the man beside him, which shuts him up.

  Maria whispers, “It is good.”

  I really don’t want to agree to anything, but she is right, it is very good. Instead of voicing that opinion, I turn my attention outside the moving vehicle. I watch the scenery go by, trying to remember my way back to the shack. I’ll need to tell Marcel and Rafael when they find me. I know they’ll find me. I have to hope.

  Hearing Maria gulping, I realize she’s drunk the whole bottle of water she was given. She appears refreshed and more awake. No sign of any drugs in her system. I don’t know much about drugs, but I’m sure they’d work quickly.

  I hesitate with my bottle of water while I twist the cap and continue watching Maria, who asks, “What is wrong?”

  Shaking my head, I say, “Nothing.”

  The water feels really good as it slips down my throat. Between gulps, I ask, “Where are you taking us?”

  “No talking.”

  “Who are we going to tell?” I persist. “Are we heading into town?”

  “Shut up. Long journey,” the horrid man snaps.

  Hearing the slight noise of an empty bottle tumble, I turn to see Maria slumped in her seat. Blood pounds in my ears as fear washes over me. She’s been drugged! No, she could just be tired. I shake my head against the fatigue suddenly threatening to overcome me. I can’t sleep—I have no idea what these men would do to us.

  A wave of sickness crashes over me and I feel dizzy—lightheaded. My hand goes to my stomach and my eyes struggle to focus.

  “What did you do?” I whisper, panicked.

  “Ponte cómodo, mi hermosa niña.” Get comfortable, my beautiful girl.

  The other man hits his partner in the chest. “Gilipollas!” Asshole!

  Cotton balls fill my head as I try and settle back against the seat. It’s difficult because my coordination feels off, my arms and legs heavy. Then my eyes close and I can’t open them.

  45

  RAFAEL

  MY HEAD IS BUZZING with the amount of coffee I’ve had since the night before. I’m no good at sitting and waiting. I understand the reasoning, but, even at the
best of times, I have a hard time with it. When the girl I love is somewhere close, and could be in trouble, I just want to go and find her. Dad has managed to sit on me for a while, but no more.

  Jumping to my feet, Dad and Jeremiah do the same. “I’m going to find her.”

  Sighing, Dad says, “You don’t know what to expect down there, plus you’ll be seen.”

  “I don’t give a fuck if I’m seen. They know that we know. I’m not leaving her for another minute. You can either come with me or stay here, but I am going.” I storm into the other room, and locating the weapon Dad removed from me earlier, I check the clip to make sure it’s still loaded.

  “The team should have arrived by now,” I comment as I move toward the back door. “How can we be sure they’re not with Ken?”

  “They’re thirty minutes away, Rafael.” Jeremiah checks his phone. “They’re splitting into three teams. Here, the church, and town. We have to hold off until they get here. I don’t want to screw this up.”

  “I hear you, but I’m going after Wren. I can’t stay here anymore—not when she could need me. Don’t ask me to.” With that, I take off out of the back door and jump the fence separating our two properties. In the background, I hear Dad and Jeremiah curse before their heavy footsteps are pounding from behind. I don’t know whether they’re coming with me or trying to stop me. Either way, I don’t stop. I don’t even stop to think whether or not the Reverend has come back home via the tunnels. I do know he left the church in a fancy black SUV.

  Banging into the kitchen, I continue down to the basement. It’s just as foul smelling and dark as before. This time, the secret door is standing open, which does cause me to take a moment to catch my breath.

  “Stupid,” Dad mutters.

 

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