Butterfly Girl

by Rona Jameson

“So, this is the entry.” Jeremiah moves closer and inspects the area around the doorway. “I don’t see any traps.”

  I should have considered that.

  He turns to face me. “We go in together, and you do not run off again. You should know better.”

  “Please, just help me find Wren.” My words are barely a whisper as fear slides down my spine. “What if she’s in the cell? We have to check that first, right?”

  “If cameras are down here, they’ll know we’ve seen it. In which case, it’s probably the last place to put her.”

  “It’s an obvious place to put her.” I shake my head. “That’s where I’m going first.”

  “I think he’s right,” Jeremiah says. “It’s the obvious place to put her. Difficult to get to. If she screams, there is no one to hear. The same with Silas.” He moves into the tunnel and I follow behind—Dad taking up the rear.

  The tunnels have an empty feel to them as we come up to the crossroads. Glancing at Dad over my shoulder, I meet his frown before he indicates for me to move forward but to take extra care.

  My gut tells me there is something wrong. The further we move, the worse the dread that hangs over me. Something isn’t right. I don’t just mean because I have no clue where Wren is, but because I sense something is about to happen. Dad closes the small distance between us and moves into my side. “I don’t like this.”

  “We’ll check and be out of here in ten minutes,” Jeremiah whispers back.

  The feeling I had is now screaming at me to leave—get out of the tunnel. Up ahead is the room with the cell in—the door wide open. A sound like a small animal scurrying over the ground, followed by the word, “Fuck,” in a familiar tone.

  “Silas,” I loudly hiss.

  “Get the fuck out of here, Rafael,” is his growled response.

  Jeremiah pushes forward and curses. Silas is locked in the cell with no sign of Wren.

  It takes me a minute to focus properly on Silas, and when I do, my heart sinks. “Where is she?”

  “They took her with another girl. You need to find out exactly what the new head of NCB, Suarez, in Mexico City has. I think he has something that the man who goes by the name Ezequiel wants. The girl is Suarez’s daughter, Maria Rosa. They’re holding her hostage until he cooperates with them.”

  Silas continues while Jeremiah tries to pick the lock. “The man Suarez is rumored to be untouchable.”

  “I’ve heard that too.” The locks click loudly before the door swings open.

  Letting out a sigh of relief, Silas steps out. “Thought they’d kill me before they left.” He frowns. “I wonder why they didn’t?”

  “Who the fuck knows. Perhaps you can ask them when we find them,” Jeremiah says, turning his attention to the tunnel.

  Silas shudders and moves forward. “Let’s go, I fucking hate being underground.” He adds, “Which way to the church?”

  “Left.”

  “Why do they want Wren?” I ask. “She’s his daughter. Are they betraying each other?”

  “The Reverend isn’t in charge.” Silas stops and turns. “The main guy is Ezequiel and always has been.” He carries on moving, and then we hear a click as we turn toward the church.

  “Bomb,” Dad shouts. “Run!”

  Fuck!

  The door into the church is in sight just as a loud rumble rocks through the tunnels. The ground shakes. Earth beneath my feet starts to separate, sinking them as though I’m caught in quicksand. Dad shouts, “Move it,” while he grabs my arm, pulling me forward with a speed I didn’t know he had—and then a huge explosion ripples through the ground and we’re flying through the air. In the blink of an eye, Jeremiah and Silas both thud against the door, knocking it inward. Dad and I land with a hard knock to the ground. My breath leaves my lungs as I struggle to breathe. My body aches and my ears ring. I see Dad’s mouth moving but I’ve no idea what he’s saying. I can’t hear a word.

  Dad and Silas grab my arms and pull me through into the church basement just as the tunnel behind me collapses, sending debris toward us. Moving to my knees, I cough while I try and assess myself. My body feels like I’ve been hit with a sledgehammer, but I guess the damage from the bomb could have been worse—a lot worse.

  I cough as Dad helps me to my feet and looks me over. More dust floating in the air catches me and I hack trying to get it out of my lungs. My hearing luckily has come back at Silas cursing. “No way is anyone going to get into those tunnels now. All that fucking evidence is gone.”

  “There is the photograph I took of the girls,” Dad says. “Has the coast guard picked up the boat yet?”

  Jeremiah shakes his head. “Nothing yet. There is a team up at a logging company not far from here. They picked up suspicious comings and goings on the satellite feed when they backtracked.” He sighs. “Looks like they’ve found where the tunnel came out further along from where we found Silas.”

  Feeling much better, I inhale and slowly exhale—nothing hurts now apart from a few cuts and bruises. The banister up to the ground floor of the church is hanging off. Whoever was in the church at the time, they certainly would have heard the explosion. Unless, of course they cleared out, in which case, they are long gone and the chance of finding Wren has dwindled.

  “I’m finding him.” Running upstairs, I notice the silence, and then I see him.

  He sits behind a large wooden desk, a weapon laid out in front of him, in reach if he needs it. His eyes stay glued on my face and he looks calm—resigned even. “Where is she?” I ask, keeping tight control on my temper.

  The Reverend shakes his head. “You won’t find her unless they want you to.”

  “Who the fuck is they?” I step forward.

  Dad, Jeremiah, and Silas are in the doorway behind me—I see their reflection in the glass cabinet beside the window, over the Reverend’s right shoulder.

  The Reverend is aware they are there, but he chooses to ignore them. His focus is squarely on me. “I’ve worked with them for years. Since before your father and the DEA raided the Amarillo compound. He knew Wren from when she was a baby. I let him see my only weakness when I lied and let Joy believe Wren was dead.” He drops his head. “I should have left her with her mother.”

  “Then she’d be dead too,” I hiss. “Who is Ezequiel and what does he want with Wren and Maria?”

  “He wants his drugs back. NCB took them and have them under lock and key. That’s why he has Suarez’s daughter. He will kill her if he doesn’t get the drugs back. They’re worth a lot more than the ones you found here. I’m talking hundreds of millions in US dollars.”

  He gives a nervous sigh and meets my gaze. “My daughter is worth more than that. She’s worth his freedom. His wealth. Unless you find him soon, both girls will be out of the country and never seen again.” He turns his back and continues, “He won’t kill Wren. He’ll use her to keep me quiet. You see, I know everything. I know his contacts in the DEA and FBI, I know the names of the men in Mexico City, who will do anything for Ezequiel Gutiérrez, on both sides of the law. Maria Suarez is a different matter. He will kill her without remorse whether or not he gets his packages back. He’s a psychopath.” He turns around and for once I see sorrow on his face. I believe it’s real and not for show.

  “You chose your friends well,” I hiss between my teeth. “But you are wrong about Wren. He will never make her disappear because I will find her. You know why? Because I love her. She belongs with me. Not you. Not him. Me!”

  Swallowing hard, he holds my gaze while he’s thoughtful. “I didn’t lie when I said I don’t know where they’ve taken the girls, but I do know he has a boat—not in his name—called Susanna. You find that, you’ll find Wren.”

  “I’ll make the calls,” Jeremiah mutters from behind as I hear his footsteps move further away.

  “You killed the only mother I remember. She was a good person and didn’t deserve to die. My brother didn’t deserve that either. He was a child!” I shout the word. “It was a ha
teful crime, and I’m going to make sure you pay for them both.” I pause, fighting the emotion warring inside of me. I want to hit him so badly. “If anything happens to Wren, you’ll wish you never heard of me.”

  “I pay everyday I’m alive, Rafael. No matter what you think of me, I did love Joy and my son. I only wanted him back once I knew where he was. No one was supposed to die.” He chokes out and drops his head into his hands on the desk before looking back up at me—his eyes swimming in tears. “The man was obsessed with Wren. He made me sick.” He pauses. “When you find Wren, will you tell her I was never going to let Wild have her? I know I scared her, but I needed him to believe it for a short time. That was the last straw with Wild. I killed him so he couldn’t take my daughter like he had my wife and son.” He swallows. “I burned every image.” He holds my gaze as he says this, “No one will ever see them.”

  I know exactly what he’s talking about and I do believe he’s telling me the truth.

  Dad puts his hand on my arm, and says to the Reverend, “You know you have to go with the agents that have just arrived.” He pauses. “Remove the clip from the gun.”

  The Reverend stares at the weapon as though he’d forgotten it was there, then he lifts his eyes to me, and whispers, “If I’m not alive, then Ezequiel has no reason not to let Wren go. Tell Wren I love her.”

  He grabs the gun.

  “NO!” I jump toward him, my heart racing.

  Dad throws himself on top of me and we both go down to the floor with a thud.

  The loud noise of a gun being discharged ricochets throughout the small office.

  Everything stills.

  Moving out from under Dad, I get to my feet, and my stomach rolls. As though in slow motion, I stare at the bloody mess of the Reverend—Lucas Jacobs—while agents dressed in black enter the room and move around him.

  Unable to stay, I turn and force one foot in front of the other to get away from the stench of death. My heart pounds as my body fills with fear. Ignoring everyone rushing around, I race outside and collapse on the front steps of the church. The sun has risen fully, and the day is warm and humid. Now though, all I feel is chilled.

  Someone sits beside me and I give him a sidelong look. Silas. I swallow behind my fear and say, “The Reverend said they had no reason to keep Wren if he’s dead.” Tears I’m unable to hide fill my eyes. “He thought they’d release her. I think they have no reason to keep her alive.” I drop my face into my raised knees while I try and breathe through the dread now eating away at me.

  “He gave us a way of finding her, Rafael. The other girls too.” He wraps an arm around my shoulders and squeezes before letting me go. “I promise you I will not give up until I have her.”

  “We won’t give up,” I add.

  “I have something,” Jeremiah announces his presence with those words. “A yacht under the name Susanna is currently moored at Bal Harbour Marina in Houston. I have two men staying here until we find them. We need to keep a lid on the Reverend’s death. We’re leaving in five minutes.” He disappears back inside.

  Silas adds, “You heard the man.” He stands and holds his hand out, pulling me to my feet. “We have surprise on our side, Rafael. We’ll find her.”

  He leaves me to pull myself together.

  I stare toward town and whisper, “I’m coming to get you, Wren.”

  46

  WREN

  MY STOMACH ROLLS and I’m not sure whether it’s from the drugs they gave me to knock me out, or because I’m on a boat. I’ve never been able to be on water without getting sick, so I’m going to believe that’s the case. The thought of eating the bagels and eggs a man brought Maria and me thirty minutes ago makes me feel worse.

  Maria cuddles into my arms, her body shaking with fear. I’m scared too and have no idea where they’ve brought us. Water is the only thing I am sure of. The cabin door is locked. I know this because I’ve already tried to open it before screaming for help until my voice went hoarse. My throat hurts now. I should have saved my breath, but I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Once I’d started to scream, I hadn’t been able to stop.

  I no longer have tears to cry. However, my will to get free of these men is stronger than ever. I look down at Maria, unsure of what to do with her. I won’t leave her, but she can hardly move. The combination of the drugs they gave us and her own fear has left her nearly paralyzed. The girl is only a few years younger than me, but she appears even younger than that.

  Hearing footsteps approaching the door, Maria gasps and I freeze. The footsteps aren’t as heavy as those of the man who keeps coming into the room. The key rattles in the lock, and then the door slowly opens and that horrid man, Ezequiel, enters. Gone is the expensive suit I last saw him in, now replaced by slacks, a polo shirt, and a windbreaker. He looks like he’s ready to go sailing. He snaps his fingers—I will forever remember that sound—and heavy footsteps move toward us. Maria whimpers.

  I keep my eyes on Ezequiel until the men enter into the room carrying two more girls. I blink in total surprise, my veins filling with anger. What right do these men have to kidnap young girls? What right does anyone have to do this?

  “You’re a bad person,” I hiss. “You and the Reverend deserve each other.”

  Ezequiel laughs. “That is why we have worked well all these years. It is a pity our partnership is going to come to an end. You, my precious Wren, are the only one in this room with a real future. His silence will keep you alive. I know you think he hates you, but you—” He crouches in front of me and reaches for my hair. I try and move my head, but I have nowhere to move to. “You, my beautiful girl, are his only weakness.” He gives an evil smirk. “The other girls will be sold—puff—never to be heard of again.”

  I frown in surprise. “I don’t believe you. He doesn’t care about me. He killed my mother and brother. He wouldn’t blink if you killed me.”

  Shut up, Wren!

  “You have a lot to learn. I will teach you. You are too pretty to have ended up with Peter Wild, or that boy.” He stands. “How you are treated will be your choice.”

  “I will not stay here.” I spit on his shoes.

  He pauses and then my head slams into the wall behind me as his hand connects with my cheek. Tears spring to my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I will not let him see them. My head swims and my cheek feels as though it is on fire. I flinch when he reaches for me again. This time he strokes a finger along my cheek. He pulls it away, and my eyes focus on the blood on the tip of his finger.

  “I made you bleed,” he says, his voice laced with anger. “Do not make me do that again.”

  He turns to another man, and says sharply, “Toca a la chica y te mataré.” Touch the girl and I will kill you.

  To me, he tones his voice down. “We are at sea, so do not try and escape. You will drown.” With that, he leaves, and his two men follow him out.

  Feeling braver than I am, I try and move away from Maria, except she won’t let me. Her grip tightens and digs into my skin. I reach up and wrap my hand around Maria’s. “I need to check the other girls.” Her grip tightens more and my patience is not the best. “You are hurting me, Maria. Let go!”

  The girl whimpers and tries to get closer. “Do not be selfish,” I snap, feeling guilty. The sharp words work, as she loosens her hold. The moment I feel as though I can move, I do so, albeit stiffly. I crawl on my hands and knees to where they dumped the two girls. Their chests move up and down softly. Probably drugged to sleep like they did Maria and me.

  I reach for the dark-haired girl and shake her gently. “Wake up. You have to wake up.” I shake her again as she mumbles. “Please wake up. We need to get out of here.” Her eyes snap open and her complexion drains of color. I quickly turn her onto her side as she gets sick, which I think is good, maybe it will get the drugs out of her system quicker. The smell makes my stomach roll in protest.

  The girl looks to be okay on her own, so I move to the girl with dark skin and jet-black hair. I
don’t need to shake her awake because her eyes are focused on my face. “I’m Wren. We need to get out of here.”

  She pulls herself up. “Where am I?” Her eyes dart around the room and can’t settle on any one thing as she pulls her knees up in front of her and, wraps her arms around them. “Oh God! This is what my mom told me would happen,” she cries. “She told me never to meet up with anyone I met online.”

  “Please don’t make a noise, otherwise they will come back.” I brush the hair back from her forehead. “What’s your name?”

  “Jessica.” She sniffles. “Is Pen okay?” She looks at the other girl, who rolls to her back.

  “I’m okay. I think.”

  “You’re both friends?” I ask.

  Jessica nods. “Yes. Since kindergarten.”

  “Can you swim?” The girls nod, along with Maria. “They said we were at sea. I don’t know where or even if there is land nearby. If we can get out of this room, and to the water, you all have to swim to land. I don’t know what we’ll do if we can’t see anything, though.”

  Pen looks at me as she drags herself into a sitting position. “What about you?”

  “I can’t swim,” I admit. “But they want me alive and well. I’ll be okay for now. You three won’t be if you stay here.”

  “The doors are locked,” Maria says.

  That is a problem and, as I think about it, I realize the boat isn’t moving as though it’s out at sea. There is a slight slushing noise, but with how still it appears, the boat has to be moored in a harbor or a small jetty. He lied because he knows I can’t swim. Then I realize I don’t hear the sound of an engine, which solidifies my answer—we are not at sea. Also, the girls have only just been brought into the room. I hadn’t given thought to that.

  I close my eyes and try to shove my seasickness to the back of my mind and focus on other senses. Sound. Seabirds crying out as they fly overhead. They wouldn’t be so far out at sea. Children yelling as they play and splash in the ocean, albeit faintly. They wouldn’t keep us on a boat with children having fun. The strongest sensation is the smell of oil. Is this because we are being held close to the engine room? I wish I knew more about boats.