She Told a Lie

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She Told a Lie Page 12

by P. D. Workman


  22

  “So, are you a social worker?” Kenzie asked Joss as they dished up their meals.

  Pat moved back and forth between the table and the kitchen, bussing platters and deep dishes of all sorts of rich foods. It was a wonder he still looked so strong and athletic at his age. He obviously did not eat very much of his own cooking.

  Tyrrell and Heather spoke a little to each other, voices lowered. It was amazing how close they had become. Zachary was between Heather and Tyrrell in age, and he thought that he should be the one with a closer relationship with Tyrrell, but since Heather had made contact with them, they had become very close. He tried not to be jealous of their relationship and paranoid about what they were whispering to each other.

  “I said I work at a restaurant,” Joss snapped. “You were sitting right there.”

  “Well… yeah, I guess you did. But you sounded like you knew a lot about trafficking, and I thought maybe you were a social worker. Before. You could be a social worker and not be working as one right now. I’m sure they get hit by the economy just like anyone else. Or get burned out and decide they can’t keep doing it. I thought maybe you were a professional.”

  “No,” Jocelyn said curtly.

  Kenzie looked at Zachary and raised an eyebrow. Just what’s eating her?

  Zachary shook his head. He would have to talk to her about it later. It was obvious to him where Jocelyn’s knowledge had come from. Lots of foster kids got trafficked, she had said. And she’d been a foster kid. She knew how the organizations worked from the inside out. Who knew how many years she had been caught in that life. He wasn’t about to ask her. Not over the dinner table.

  “It’s so nice to see you again, Kenzie,” Pat said, finally sitting down. “It’s been too long. How have you been keeping since you were here last? Any interesting cases?”

  “You should know better than to ask Kenzie about interesting cases,” Zachary warned. “Most people don’t like autopsy talk at the table…”

  “I promise no autopsy talk,” Kenzie agreed with a laugh. “How about zombies? I have some new jokes…”

  “Are you okay?” Kenzie asked when they got into the car.

  Zachary didn’t process her words immediately. He heard the silence, and then looked at her, then ran the tape in his head back and replayed it.

  “Um, yeah. I’m fine.”

  He started the car and drove out of Mr. Peterson’s neighborhood and out to the highway. He noticed Kenzie’s silence again after a while and glanced over at her.

  “What? Did you say something?”

  “No.”

  “I’m okay.” He repeated the assurance. “Why? I’m just fine.”

  “You didn’t seem yourself at dinner today. I thought you would have a good time with so much of your family there. But you hardly even talked to anyone. Half the time, I don’t think you had any idea what the conversation was about.”

  Zachary felt the tightness across his forehead and tried to smooth out his frown. To look bland and unworried. Nothing for Kenzie to be worried about.

  “No, sorry. I think… it was just too many people for me. I’m okay with a small group, but once it goes past a certain level… I just get distracted. Overstimulated. Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make anyone uncomfortable.”

  “What have you been thinking about?”

  “Just… the usual. Old memories. The family. Cases still waiting for me when I get back home. What I need to work on tomorrow.”

  “You told Rhys that you found Madison?”

  Zachary broke into a cold sweat. He had told the police. They had informed Madison’s parents. He hadn’t immediately messaged Rhys with the good news.

  Maybe because it wasn’t good news.

  Rhys wanted to see her again. He didn’t want Zachary just to find her and assure him that everything was fine. He wanted to see her. Talk to her. Know for sure that she was okay.

  And Zachary couldn’t tell him that. He couldn’t tell Rhys that everything was fine with Madison and she had just chosen to move away and to go somewhere else.

  Maybe because he still had his doubts. Jocelyn’s words had not reassured him. He knew that what she said was true. For a good part of dinner, he had not been thinking about Madison. Instead, he had been thinking about Joss.

  He had always been a little scared of her as a kid. She’d been almost an adult in his eyes, and she’d ruled them with an iron fist. As much as a thirteen-year-old could rule with an iron fist.

  And he was still scared of her. She was a hard woman. It was obvious that she too had been through a lot both in foster care and after she had aged out. She hadn’t had an easy time. He hated the thought that she had been victimized just as much as he had. Just as much as Heather.

  Maybe even more.

  “Do you think she’ll be okay?” he asked Kenzie.

  “Madison?”

  “Joss. I meant Joss, but I guess Madison too. If she’s being trafficked by Noah like Joss said she is… I don’t know how to get her out. I already tried to get her out, and the police tried. What else am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know, Zachary. I think you have to leave it to the police. There’s not much you can do, especially about a criminal organization. If you were just trying to talk her out of staying with her boyfriend, of making contact with her parents, that’s one thing. But trying to get her out of there if she’s part of an organization… they won’t take very kindly to people who try to take their assets.”

  Zachary shook his head. He pressed his foot to the gas pedal, whizzing by several slow-moving vehicles on the highway. Kenzie looked at him. Zachary eased off, letting the needle of the speedometer settle at a lower number.

  “Why are you worried about Joss?” Kenzie asked. “She struck me as a person who can look after herself.”

  “She’s always had to be grown up… but I don’t think that means she can always look after herself. I think a lot of it is bluff. Trying to make other people think she’s tough and in charge.”

  “Well, you would know better than I would, but she didn’t seem like she was having any problems communicating her thoughts to me.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  They covered the next few miles in silence.

  “What did you mean?” Kenzie asked. “Why are you worried about Joss?”

  “She’s been through so much, and it sounds like she’s just barely holding things together with her job at the restaurant. I’m just worried… things are going to go downhill.”

  “You guys barely even talked to each other. What do you mean about her being through so much? You mean when you were kids?”

  “No. I mean what she was talking about. Sex trafficking. Being caught in that kind of business… and addicted to drugs. She can’t be making very much waitressing at a restaurant, and if she relapses… it’s just one step to get back into prostitution and get enough money for drugs.”

  “I don’t think she ever said that she was being trafficked.”

  “She didn’t have to.”

  “You think so? You think she was talking about herself when she was talking about what might have happened to Madison?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well… I suppose. There’s nothing to say that she wasn’t. I just figured, if she was talking from experience, she would have said so.”

  “When you asked her if she was a social worker?”

  “Yeah. That would have been a good opportunity.”

  “People don’t talk about that so openly. It’s… it’s just not done. People are ashamed. When they come out about being abused or trafficked… society doesn’t treat them very well. They get bullied. People tell them that they’re lying or imply that it’s their own fault. They get re-victimized.”

  “Our society has moved forward quite a bit in the last few years. I think that with the latest developments, it’s a lot more acceptable to talk about your experiences with being abused. Maybe not for men, still
, but women… are allowed to be more open now. More supported.”

  Zachary shook his head. “No. Not really.”

  “You have to admit that we treat rape victims a lot better than we did back in the eighties, when Heather was a victim.”

  “I hope so.” The photos he had seen of Heather in her cold case file were burned into his memory. He would never forget what she had looked like after the assault. And the police had still treated her like she must have asked for it. It was her own fault for dressing so immodestly and walking through the park, which was out of bounds for the school kids for a reason. “But I don’t know. There are still a lot of jerks out there. Older people. Religious bullies. People who… just like to hurt others. They feel so insecure, they’ll attack the weakest person in the room. Someone like Joss… she’s learned to present herself as someone strong and independent, to keep people at a distance. Keep them from attacking.”

  Kenzie nodded slowly. Zachary was sure she had seen and heard enough examples to understand that they were still in the dark ages as far as treating victims went.

  “Are you going to keep in touch, then? Let Joss know that you’re available if she wants to talk about it? Sometimes, just having someone who is open to talking things through is helpful to someone… on the edge.”

  For some reason, her words made Zachary remember his agreement to do couples therapy with Kenzie. To somehow do something to help them to stay together and work through the difficult times. Zachary blamed himself for all of the intimacy speed bumps, but he didn’t know how to get over them.

  “Hey, umm…”

  Kenzie looked at him, her eyes wary.

  “So… I don’t know if I ever said… when Bridget and I were together, we talked once or twice about doing some couples therapy. To see if we could work things out.”

  “Yes… good suggestion,” Kenzie agreed. She sounded intensely uncomfortable. While she had been amused by Bridget at the beginning of their relationship, she had discovered over time just how twisted up over her Zachary was. How hard it was for him to separate himself from what they had been as a couple. How he was still in love with her even though he didn’t want to be.

  He wanted to move on and be totally devoted to Kenzie and not distracted by Bridget and her pregnancy with her current partner—after she had refused to even consider having children with Zachary.

  “Sorry. I shouldn’t bring it up.”

  “No, finish what you started. Where are you going with this?”

  “Bridget… she wouldn’t agree to any kind of therapy. She didn’t need anything. I was the one who was broken, not her.”

  “And that worked out real well, didn’t it?” Kenzie said with a sneer. “How can you expect to have a healthy relationship with someone if you refuse to put the effort into it?”

  Zachary breathed slowly in and out. He knew that Kenzie was right, but his immediate reaction was to defend Bridget. She wasn’t the one who was broken. She had put plenty of effort into the relationship, just not into therapy. She thought that Zachary needed to work harder at fixing himself. That he could choose to be healthier if he just wanted it badly enough. If he wasn’t getting better, then it wasn’t her fault. It was his.

  They drove in silence for a while longer. It was dark, and Kenzie had her face turned away from Zachary, looking out the window into the blackness.

  He watched the road and the taillights ahead of him. He knew the route; it was all automatic to him. Which lane to be in. Where the pot holes were. Where he could speed up on the straightaways, if he were driving alone.

  “Zachary.” Kenzie’s hand was on his leg. A warm squeeze. “I think couples therapy is a good idea. I told you that when you were talking to Lorne. I should have suggested it before, instead of striking off on my own and… you know. Taking things into my own hands.”

  Zachary didn’t nod or agree. He didn’t think that would be very tactful. He didn’t want to hurt her or to focus on what she had done wrong in the past. She had been trying to help him. She had been trying to find a way to make their relationship work. He had forgiven her, so he shouldn’t bring it up again.

  “I want us to get stronger,” he said. “To grow together. Not to… end up going different directions from each other.”

  “I do too.”

  “Okay. So. I’ll talk to Dr. Boyle about it. See if she’ll do it, or if she recommends someone else.” He looked over at her, gauging Kenzie’s reaction, making sure he had understood her correctly. She thought it was a good idea. So she was prepared to go ahead with it?

  Kenzie nodded. “You bet. Let me know, and we’ll find a time that can work around my work schedule. I’ll be there.”

  She would be there.

  Zachary released a pent-up breath.

  23

  Zachary was at the Salter house when Rhys got home from school. Rhys raised his eyebrows at finding Zachary in his living room. He looked around for his grandmother, but Vera had left them alone for the conversation.

  Zachary stood up to shake hands with Rhys, almost always a two-handed affair, with the non-shaking hand either patting Zachary on the shoulder or wrapping around him in a hug. Rhys was less effusive than usual, waiting for Zachary to fill him in on why he was there.

  “I found Madison this weekend, Rhys,” Zachary told him, not wanting to draw it out painfully.

  Rhys squeezed Zachary’s hand tighter.

  “It’s okay,” Zachary assured him. “She’s okay. She’s alive, and she’s not being held captive. She’s just… with Noah.”

  Rhys sat down on the couch with a soft thump. He held his hand over his heart, breathing out a puff of air.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you. I knew you would assume that someone had kidnapped her and was holding her…” Zachary swallowed. “Like when Gloria took Bridget.”

  Both of them thought about Bridget’s kidnapping. Rhys had been there, trying to help her and keep her alive. Zachary had been on their trail, and the timing had been very close. A few more hours, and she wouldn’t have made it.

  Rhys always asked Zachary about Kenzie, but never Bridget. He knew that Bridget was Zachary’s ex. He had seen the reunion when Zachary found Bridget and knew that Zachary still had feelings for her. But he had never once asked after Bridget or teased Zachary about her. Only about Kenzie.

  “I’m sorry. I wish I had better news for you,” Zachary apologized, sitting on the ottoman to face Rhys on his level.

  Would it have been better news if Madison had been kidnapped? If it meant that she was going back to her parents and back to school, back to her old friends and to Rhys? For that to happen, Madison first would have to go through the trauma of being kidnapped and held against her will for a week. Was that better than finding out that she was gone because she wanted to be? Because she chose one boy over everything else in her life?

  Rhys shook his head and gave Zachary a thumbs-up, indicating that it was a good result. He slapped Zachary on the shoulder in congratulations and smiled at him encouragingly.

  It was a good result. It was good to know that she hadn’t been kidnapped and held against her will or, worse yet, killed.

  But was it good? If she was only in love with Noah because he was romancing her to turn her out as a prostitute, how was that different from holding her captive?

  Rhys got up off of the couch and went to the kitchen. He called over his shoulder, a single word directed at the rest of the house. “Gram?”

  When Vera joined them in the kitchen, Rhys had his head and half his body in the fridge as he looked through it to see what goodies Vera had put away. He turned to look at her, and motioned to Zachary.

  “Can Zachary stay over for supper?” Vera interpreted. “Of course he can. If he doesn’t mind warmed-up leftovers. It’s my night to volunteer at the old folks’ home, so we always just have something quick from the fridge.”

  “Uh, sure,” Zachary agreed. “I’m not picky.”

  It was funny to think of V
era volunteering at a seniors’ home when, not that long ago, Zachary had thought that she was sliding into dementia herself. Once she got off of the meds that were causing her fogginess, that had changed completely. He was glad that Rhys had a family member who was able to look after him. He had grown up in his grandma’s home and she understood him better than anyone else. She was protective of him after everything he had been through, but not a helicopter parent.

  Rhys started pulling bowls out of the fridge and, in a few minutes, Zachary was warming up some leftover casserole while Rhys heaped food from several other dishes onto his plate. Zachary kept an eye on Rhys, wondering how he was feeling about the news about Madison.

  “So, it’s good news about your friend, isn’t it?” Vera said to Rhys brightly, testing out the waters.

  Rhys nodded without looking at her.

  “Scary to have someone just disappear like that. You’re lucky Zachary is such a good investigator.”

  Rhys looked over at Zachary as if waiting for him to say something. But Zachary didn’t want to mention the possibility of sex trafficking in front of Vera. She had enough to worry about, without thinking about how vulnerable teens Rhys’s age were to predators. Rhys himself was even more vulnerable due to his communication disabilities and the loss of his mother. If he had been targeted instead of Madison…

  Zachary knew that there were plenty of boys being trafficked. They were not safe from predators either. As Joss had said, he’d seen enough in foster care to know about the possibilities.

  “It’s good that we at least know where she is,” Zachary acknowledged Vera. “Though how long they’ll—how long she’ll stay there, I don’t know. Girls will move around when there’s too much attention from the police.”

  Vera had just a cold sandwich for herself, and left Rhys and Zachary alone again to eat their meal while she got ready for her night out.

  Rhys took his heaping plate out of the microwave and set it on the table. He sat down and tapped on his phone for a minute. He slid it across the table to Zachary.

 

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