by Joy Ohagwu
Asia covered her mouth, then sprang to her feet, and hugged her. “I’m so sorry!” A gasp escaped as she dropped back onto her seat. “I know how much you love it. You’d said it was struggling. I didn’t know things were that bad. You don’t like us getting into your business, but we sure would’ve liked to know when things got tough, you know. And I’m sure you would’ve given anything to save it.” Asia laced her fingers and kept a measured tone to convey she understood the severity. She simply focused on her sister. “Tell me what happened. Was it a bad company you worked with, a bad judgment on your part, or a little bit of both?”
Tears swam on Latricia’s lashes. “I’m surprised you’re not yelling.”
At her words, Asia swallowed the temptation to remind Latricia about the initial apprehension she’d voiced years ago and simply listened. Latricia needed a shoulder to cry on now, not a critic when she was down. The clock on the wall dinged to ring in a new hour, and after the momentary distraction, Asia pinned her gaze on her sister, listening with intent.
Latricia swiped at her tears, then huffed. “Frankly, it was a little bit of both. I made a bad deal, and that was also a bad judgment on my part. At first, when I got the deal, I was a bit skeptical. But I knew the middleman, and I trusted them instead of digging into the company’s background.”
“That’s always a bad thing. Remember, we learned to check up on people, no matter how good they sound, right?”
Latricia grabbed a few of her braids and spun them around on her fingers. “I guess it’s a lesson learned the hard way. I took the middleman’s word for it, that the company was good, that their credit was fine, and that it was going to be a helpful opportunity to expand my business. So I signed the deal—and even took a loan so I could purchase the supplies I needed to fulfill my contract. Then I did everything I could to make it happen. They were going to pay me as soon as I completed the final delivery.”
She shook her head, sending a myriad of braids dancing. “When I finished the contract, no payments came in. So I contacted them. I was told the company had suffered a massive loss and, as a result, the vendor was no longer financially viable to pay for it. Meaning, I worked for free for something I should’ve been paid for. Not only that, but while I was working, I incurred bills in providing decor to fulfill the contract, as well as my own expenses.” Her sigh filled the room with sadness. “That has been a painful experience. The bottom line is that my home decor business has gone under. And right now, I’m heavily in debt, and I couldn’t watch them cart away the remaining items this week. So, I ran here.”
As Latricia turned her gaze away, Asia rose and wrapped her in a hug, letting her cry on her shoulder. She winced when her sister’s grip bruised her wound, but she didn’t let her go. She stood as a rock for Latricia to lean on, even if she hurt too.
When Asia released her, Latricia’s sobs had quieted. “I couldn’t bear to sit there and watch it happen. I needed to get away. I needed not to think of myself as a failure. I needed a place somewhere else to escape to.”
Latricia smiled, easing the worry in Asia’s heart. “When we were younger, you would escape from me. Now, things have changed, huh?”
“Don’t think too much about it.” Asia wagged a finger, and hope sprung in her heart for her sister. “You’re still horrible at braiding hair such that I won’t let you near my head.” Warmth spread through her. Yes, her little sister may have lost her home decor business. But she hadn’t lost who she was. There was hope for Latricia. There was hope for her.
“I know God is going to do something for you to show you the way in whatever direction He wants you to go.” Hours earlier, that would’ve sounded strange coming from her lips. Now, it felt comfortable, nearly as though it belonged there.
“Samuel, how are you doing?” The next day, Stacy Black clasped the phone between her cheek and her ear as she sorted through the documents her husband had left her, searching for anything to leverage against their forced exit. She’d taken the time to collect every possible relevant document. Now sorting through them, she might as well make the call she’d been meaning to. “I’m sorry to bother you. Is this a good time to chat?”
“Sure, how can I help you?” Samuel Davids had been her husband’s friend for most of their marriage. If she had a problem, she could only think of him as a possible person to help.
“Thanks. I got a letter, a notice to vacate.” She told him the details. “After the call, I prayed and felt led to call you. I’m not sure what the next step should be. Are you familiar with this?”
“I’ve heard of it, but no. Not in this manner. Was there an indication of how long you needed before you responded?”
“Three days to accept to vacate in one year. The new owner could make us leave earlier if we don’t respond.”
“I’d suggest you wait the full three days. Don’t respond sooner than you need to. I’ll speak to a lawyer and see if there is a way to refuse to vacate—although I doubt it. If the property has changed ownership and the new owner wants you gone, you’d have to vacate. I’m sorry. But I will see what we can find out. Otherwise, how are things going with the kids? Are you holding up alright?”
She sighed. “As well as I could, I guess. With this development, I haven’t rested enough. But Bishop saw me arguing with the municipality on the phone, so I’m not sure how much he’s said to the other kids. He was gone through the day yesterday, so there wasn’t time for much interaction.”
A slight pause, a mark of Samuel’s thoughtful and deliberate response to challenges, trailed her words. She wouldn’t be surprised to know he was whispering prayers. “I see. But again, how much time did one need to get information across?”
“You’re right. Just a minute, someone is waiting on the other line. Let me check who’s calling.”
“Hello?” she answered.
“Yes, Mrs. Black?” a male voice asked.
“Yes? Who are you?”
“Mrs. Black, you are identified as the guardian for Bishop Gideon.”
She gulped. What have you done, Bishop? “Yes?”
“A warrant has been issued for his arrest for defacing the municipality building. We have pictures and eyewitness accounts supporting that.”
Silence ricocheted off the walls. She wanted so badly to defend him, but she couldn’t. “What do you need?” The words felt as bitter to her tongue as the letter from the municipality had been.
Chapter Nine
When my father and my mother forsake me, Then The LORD will take care of me. Psalm 27:10
* * *
Sleeping through the night in the queen bed at the classy Marriott hotel room was worlds different from the previous hotel she’d checked into. In place of worn wallpaper were wide windows with lush floor-to-ceiling drapes, and instead of shoving a table against the door as protection against intrusion, she could digitally arm the security. Left with only the clothes on her back, she’d hand-washed her shirt, hung it out to dry, and ironed it with the clothing iron the hotel provided when she woke up.
Latricia was still sleeping, having talked through the issues that had led her here before they slept.
Asia had accepted her sister’s request to stay with her since she only had one more day to spend in Mexico. Either she found clues or she’d return home, then resume working the case from the States. She wasn’t getting trapped in a foreign country while trying to find the girls. She wouldn’t die throwing herself into circumstances she didn’t fully understand. She would live to fight again. And she now had firsthand information she could work with—information that hadn’t been available before. Plus, she had enough time for the information to make sense.
Shrugging off her coat, she strode into the police station and groaned when she recalled Hugo was scheduled to be at the hotel. As she approached Ramirez, she voiced a request. “My driver will be going to the previous hotel since I forgot to let him know things had changed. Please give him your address here so he can come here instead.”
Ramirez paused from what he was jotting down. “I think he should go there and get your things. You still have your luggage at the previous hotel, right?”
Actually, that made sense. “Sounds like a plan. Excuse me.”
Stepping aside, she dialed Hugo and relayed that information. He agreed to pack her things and bring her luggage to the Marriott.
“Anything to make your stay here comfortable,” he responded when she thanked him, and the lilt in his voice, both from his accent and pleasant persona, put her at ease. “I didn’t like the old hotel anyway. I’m glad you didn’t sleep there. I’ll let you know as soon as your luggage is moved over safely. Bye.”
Hugo hung up, and Ramirez finished his note almost at the same time. So she strode back to his desk. “Have there been any occurrences like yesterday’s at the hilltop?”
He tapped his pen against his notepad as he shook his head. “We had officers crawling throughout that area. The men disappeared. We marked the market as closed until further notice too. We need to get to the bottom of what happened. Especially since I saw it firsthand. It’s no longer just your word. I’m an eyewitness.”
Her stiff shoulders loosened a bit as Ramirez’s words reassured her. “I presume it would be impossible to convince your boss if things had been otherwise.”
He cocked his head and rubbed the crinkles between his eyes. “It’s tough convincing him now. Before would have been impossible.”
Why? She almost held the question in, then blurted, “Doesn’t he believe you?”
He exhaled a grumbling breath. “I’m trying to find that out too. Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?” She trailed him to an unmarked patrol car with another officer at the wheel.
Ramirez joined him in front while another officer sat in the back with her. “They found a tunnel. We’ll go and see if it could be a trafficking route and where it could lead out to.”
A tunnel? Her eyes widening, she gripped the handgrip. “Well, that puts a new spin on things.”
“Indeed.” His voice was grim as their gazes met in the rearview mirror. “It also means this is more dangerous than we thought. I’d like to keep you out of the line of fire. First, you’re not an officer. Second, you’re a foreigner.”
“I’m not staying in the car. No.” Folding her arms over her chest and jutting up her chin, Asia pushed back.
“Fine. But you stay behind us at all times. Deal?”
“Alright. I don’t like it, but I’ll comply.”
Arriving at the market brought goosebumps to her arm.
“Are you okay? Are you sure you can face this so soon?” Ramirez’s serious, dark gaze observed her as she rubbed the bumps on her arm.
She gulped, hoping her voice wasn’t shaky. “I’m fine. I can focus and get this done.”
“Let me know if you can’t handle it at any point, okay?” He shifted in his seat to look at her directly, rather than through the rearview mirror, and the depth of his caring touched her. “We’re all still shaken that this is happening under our noses, so you’re not alone.”
At her nod, he alighted from the car, and she and the other officers followed. Then they made their way toward the hilltop. Instead of going straight up, an officer led them through the yellow tape cordoning off the area while curious passersby looked on. Asia might have spotted an angry shop owner or two, but she didn’t stare long enough to be sure.
As they descended on a couple of rugged steps, strobe lights overhead lit the way, and she trailed the officers with one bringing the rear. Someone spoke loudly ahead, and she strained herself. But even then, she couldn’t understand the Spanish he spoke. The officers brandished their weapons and disabled the safety—only then did she realize she was unarmed.
“Stay close,” the officer in front of her said, beckoning with a hand for her to remain behind him so she stayed.
More voices were up ahead. When they had walked with their heads bent in the underground tunnel for some distance, the lights ended, and darkness started closing around them. They were beckoned to silence. The scuffling of footsteps reached her ears. Then a gunshot exploded.
“Shots fired!” an officer shouted.
A sound pierced from behind, and Asia turned in time to see the strobe lights all go dark. She reached for the officer closest to her but stumbled. As she hit the ground, gunshots rang out again.
“Take cover! We were set up. Take cover!” Ramirez shouted something about suspecting he couldn’t trust his boss. Then his voice faded as did the thudding of his steps like he chased someone. She used her hands to push off the ground, but not before something struck the officer behind her and he thudded to the ground.
Hands grabbed her, and another pair clamped on her mouth.
Struggling to breathe, she kicked to no avail. A huddle rushed her toward an opening in the cave-like tunnel that seemed like it was cut out of the main shaft’s side, not easily detectable. She kicked harder, and a slip through the hand over her mouth yielded an opportunity. “Help! Ramirez!”
The hand clamped down harder, their feet padded faster, and the cops’ voices faded with her hope of rescue. Dodging overhead roots between sandy rocks, she trudged along as they hustled her farther from the team and deeper into the unknown. It might’ve been a fifteen-minute walk or a half hour before light ahead pierced the darkness.
They emerged into an opening. Some water and mud sloshed under their feet, light glared in the distance, and more than ten girls hunkered together, waiting. A man held a gun to the head of another man. He turned. “Did you get the extra girl?” He eyed the other men and postured as though he was in charge.
The captors released their hold on Asia’s mouth, so they must be too far for her to be heard now. “We got the extra girl.”
Huh. She was the girl they talked about. “Who are you?” Her voice sounded scratchy. But her nerves stood up like pins on edge.
Both sides seemed to reach a silent agreement as the gun lowered. “You get to live.” The man looked at another man. “And you get to die.”
He paled.
A shot rang out.
Seventeen years passed since Gary laid eyes on Jason Freeman—the day Julia was born. Then he’d been a young man with sandy brown hair and an ego as large as an ocean. With his head tipped haughtily to one side and disdain creasing his mouth, the coldness of his gaze hinted his personality hadn’t changed. However, he’d aged in those seventeen years. Silver streaked the temples of his now-black hair, blending in to a shiny bald spot.
Jason stirred the warm liquid inside his teacup with a golden spoon, one of those Gary had seen at Jason’s parents’ home when he’d gone to fight for child support for Julia as a baby. They’d served him with fine bone china and golden cutlery. Then they’d sent him away with a warning not to return if it had to do with Julia. She’d be a stain on their political heritage, one they could ill-afford for their son. His future, they implied, was too bright for Marcy and Julia to taint it.
Gary clenched his jaw. He’d wanted to vomit the tea back on their tiled floors, leaving them with something actually dirty to clean up behind him for. He shook himself back to the present.
Clearly, Jason maintained the culture of accumulating golden cutlery. After clinking the spoon against the teacup, then settling the spoon on the saucer, he took a sip, set the cup down, and then crossed his legs. “What brings you here?”
“Oh. Seventeen years later, and you won’t even address me by name, eh?” Gary pulled the chair opposite the man out and sank into it, crossing his own legs and arms. Mike jostled the next seat farther away, giving them room to speak. Although Gary doubted they said anything the man didn’t hear, Mike simply kept a respectful distance as a courtesy.
Gary blinked at the thought, which now assailed him even as he observed the man. Had coming here been a mistake?
If Jason didn’t care about Julia seventeen years ago, why would he care now? Sure, he sent money for her upkeep a couple of time
s. But that alone didn’t buy him the right to be named her dad. If he wasn’t her biological father, Gary wouldn’t be sitting on this chair at all addressing the man. “I’m here about Julia.”
“Oh? What has she done? I was told when she’d crashed someone’s car. Does she need bailing out of jail? I hear that’s what teens with single parents are up to these days.” He picked up the cup, rushed a harsh laugh, and then took a sip and set the cup down. “I’m not into bailing out teenagers, you know?” His eyes glinted against the fading sunlight.
Gary knew when he was being baited. He wouldn’t take the bait. “It’s amazing you should say that. But no, I’m not here so you can bail out Julia. I’m here because she’s missing. She was abducted at our station after she came in to provide a tip about something she’d seen.”
The smallest crinkle of concern slid across Jason’s forehead before coldness enveloped his features again. “Interesting. What did she see?” he asked with a measured tone, too measured for his persona.
Gary sank back into his seat and unfurled his legs before responding. “It’s police business. I’m not at liberty to share that information. However, I also have to let you know Marcy was involved in an accident.”
Was that a clearer reaction to that news?
The man’s teeth clenched. “What happened?”
“An accident. Her car hit a tree in bad weather.”
Would Jason, who had abandoned Marcy with a baby when she needed him, care about what happened to her now?
“She just got out of surgery, and she’s in pretty bad shape. We’re not sure if the accident is a random accident or if it was connected to Julia’s abduction.”
Jason pushed the cup of tea away. Gary had expected the coldness would continue. Did Jason have some kindness left in his wintry soul? The man swiped a hand over the silver, gray, and black hair, then settled his hand beneath his jaw. When his gaze landed on Gary’s again, he licked his lips nervously. But what would Jason have to be nervous about? “How long ago did all this happen? Today? Yesterday? A few days ago?”