She Told a Lie

by P. D. Workman

  48

  Zachary didn’t know whether he should call Vera or just show up on the doorstep. If he called her, there was less chance of confrontation, and she could just tell him not to bother contacting them again.

  But if he showed up on the doorstep, he was there, and it wouldn’t be as easy for her just to shoo him away. Maybe he would get in to see Rhys one more time. Or she would concede that he couldn’t have foreseen what would happen when Rhys had come to him for help.

  Or she could punch him in the nose.

  She was a kind, Christian lady, so that seemed like it was only an outside possibility, but still one that had to be considered.

  In the end, he decided that despite the risk of confrontation, he had to chance it. He had to see Rhys one more time if he possibly could.

  That didn’t make it any easier to stand on the Salters’ doorstep and force himself to press the doorbell.

  Eventually, he was able to do it and, a few minutes later, Vera opened the door.

  “Oh, Zachary!”

  She stood there for a minute while they both considered how she would respond to his unannounced visit. Finally, she stepped back and let him into the house.

  “Come sit down,” she directed, pointing to the living room.

  Zachary sat down in his accustomed seat. “Is he here? Or…?”

  Zachary didn’t want to hear that Rhys had been institutionalized again. But if that was the only way for them to help him, then it was the best place for him to be. Zachary scratched at the knee of his jeans, waiting for the accusations. Waiting for Vera to tell him that he had set Rhys back ten years and that chances were, he was never going to be able to recover again.

  “He’s sleeping right now.” Vera looked at her watch. “He’s been sleeping a lot lately. His therapist said that it’s normal and not to push him too fast. Sleeping is apparently good. A way for his brain to try to process what happened and to start healing.”

  Zachary nodded. Some therapists subscribed to this theory. Others believed that it was best not to let patients sleep any longer than eight hours, but to get them out of bed on a strict schedule and get them to group therapy or whatever was the treatment of choice.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean for anything to happen to him that night. I should have brought him straight back here. I should have been more responsible. Just called the police and let them deal with it…”

  “When Rhys came to you begging for help?” Vera stared off into the distance, thinking about it. “I may spoil the boy, but I don’t think I could deny him whatever help I could give him if he asked me for something.”

  Zachary shrugged, still looking down. “But I put him into unnecessary danger. That wouldn’t have happened if I had just called the police and brought Rhys home.”

  “But would that have helped Madison?”

  “Well… no, probably not. She wouldn’t have accepted any help from the police. And it might have had a negative consequence for her, having the cops show up on her doorstep.”

  “Rhys really likes Madison. I know it’s just puppy love; he isn’t romantically attached to her, and she doesn’t have those feelings for him, but he was… it felt like he was the only one who cared enough to help her. Even her parents, they weren’t able to do anything to get her back.”

  “Yeah.”

  Zachary was silent, considering her reaction. “So… how is he?”

  “I honestly don’t know. It’s so hard to tell with him, with the communication barriers. I was afraid when you brought him back… he was so distressed… and when you said that he’d had a flashback and been saying that… it took me back to how he was after Clarence died. And he just slipped away from us.”

  Zachary nodded. “I was worried that… he’d regressed all that way again.”

  “Me too. But he has been… he’s still communicating. As much as can be expected. He’s worried about Madison still, but I keep telling him that you would do everything you could for her. That he had to trust you to do what was best.”

  “Thanks… I don’t know what she’ll decide. So many of these girls just go right back to the life. All we could do was… give her a fighting chance.”

  Zachary finally looked up at Vera. She looked him straight in the eye, sharp and discerning.

  “Can you tell me what happened? What it was that upset him so much? Made him go back to Clarence’s death?”

  She still had a hard time calling it murder. How could Rhys get better if she denied what had happened?

  “I don’t know… I don’t think you’d be quite so kind to me if you knew what had happened. I had the best of intentions… I never meant for it to play out like it did. I didn’t realize… I didn’t think about them being able to track Madison’s and Noah’s cell phones. I should have known. It was stupid not to realize it. I know plenty about tracking technology. But…” Zachary shook his head. It was hard to believe that he had been so stupid. He could blame it on how complex the situation had been, on adrenaline, on trying to deal with three teens who wanted three different things. But he should still have realized that Peggy Ann and her crew would be able to track the phones they had given to Madison and Noah.

  “All of that technology.” Vera waved it away with one hand. “I would never have thought of it. I’m getting better at all of these gifs and emojis, because of Rhys, but I really haven’t got a clue how it all works.”

  “I do, and I should have realized.”

  “Just tell me, Zachary. How can I help him if I don’t know what happened? He can’t tell me. If he tells his therapist, if he’s able to, then the therapist still can’t tell me. I think I need to know. Don’t you?”

  Zachary swallowed. He took a deep breath in and blew it back out.

  What was the worst that could happen?

  The worst was that Vera would tell him he could never again have anything to do with Rhys. And if he were going to make such huge blunders, then that was probably the best thing for Rhys. It might hurt Zachary, but he had to do what was best for the boy, not what felt best to him.

  “Okay… we had gone to a hotel to hide and to work out a plan of action. Somewhere safe, where we wouldn’t lead the guys who were after Madison back to you or to Kenzie or to Madison’s family. We didn’t want to bring other innocent parties into it.”

  Vera nodded. “And that’s when you talked to Kenzie. And told her to call me to let me know that Rhys was okay.”

  “Right.”

  “That was the first I knew that anything was wrong.”

  “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t want to worry you… but I didn’t know if you already were…”

  “It was the right thing to do.”

  “So… after we’d had a chance to rest and to put together a plan of action, we headed out again. And that was when… that’s when they attacked. They must have had a sniper on the roof, and they had cars ready to tail us. It was a very dangerous situation. I should have seen it before we walked out there.”

  “How could you?”

  “I should have known.”

  Vera dabbed her nose with a crushed tissue. “What happened?”

  Vera had probably already guessed. He had, after all, said ‘sniper.’ What else did she think that meant?

  “They tried to ambush us. I managed to get everyone in the car and to get out to the highway, but they were still following the cell signal, and they attacked again there. In the whole thing… Noah was hit. Mostly it was just flying glass. And he was knocked out. But you can imagine how it seemed to Rhys…”

  Vera didn’t say anything for a long time. Zachary waited.

  “So they were shooting at you,” Vera said finally.

  “Yeah.”

  “And this Noah… he was okay?”

  “He was knocked out. And he had blood on his face. So for Rhys…”

  “It was just like when Clarence was shot. The sound of the gunfire. Hit in the face.”

  Zacha
ry nodded. “I’m so sorry. I had no intention of putting him in any danger.”

  Vera shook her head. “That poor boy. That poor, poor boy.”

  Zachary stared down at his hands. It was probably time for him to leave. Vera wouldn’t want him hanging around there. She shouldn’t have to tell him it was time to leave. She was so polite, she would keep being nice to him even when she wanted him out of the house.

  “I guess… I should…” He started to get up.

  Vera shook her head. “No, no. Let me wake Rhys up. He’ll want to see you. He’ll want to know how everything went. He’s been asking after you.”

  Zachary hadn’t received any messages from Rhys and thought maybe Vera had forbidden it. He was relieved that Rhys was at least communicative enough to ask for him.

  Vera got to her feet. “You just stay right here. It might take me a few minutes to convince him to get up.”

  Zachary waited, concentrating on breathing and trying to keep his anxiety at bay. It hadn’t gone as badly as he had feared. Rhys hadn’t completely regressed. Vera hadn’t kicked Zachary out and told him not to return. Rhys still wanted to see him, and Vera was willing to let him. But he couldn’t shake the anxiety that Rhys or Vera was going to blame him for everything that had happened and for re-traumatizing Rhys.

  He could hear Vera talking in Rhys’s room and, eventually, the two of them came out. Rhys went directly to Zachary and, as Zachary stood up, took him in a bear hug.

  Zachary was startled. He froze, unsure what to do, and it took him several seconds to process Rhys’s reaction and hug him back.

  Rhys released him after a few more seconds and stepped back far enough to look him in the face. He gave Zachary a searching look.

  “She’s okay,” Zachary said immediately. “I don’t know if she’ll stay with her parents. They’re trying to work things out. But she’s safe, and we’ve fed back false information to the organization that she was killed in the shoot-out. So they won’t be looking for her.”

  Rhys nodded seriously.

  “Rhys, I’m so sorry, I never meant anything like that to happen. I’m so sorry that… you were there, and you saw what you did, and that it made you flash back to when your grandpa was killed. I’m so sorry about that.”

  Rhys took Zachary’s forearm in a strong handshake, squeezing tightly. He met Zachary’s eyes and gave a slight nod.

  Zachary let out his breath. He looked at Vera. She nodded.

  “Well, why don’t I put something in the oven for supper? You’ll stay, Zachary?”

  Epilogue

  The visit with Rhys had turned out well, better than Zachary had dared hope, but he had a pretty good idea that his visit with Jocelyn wasn’t going to go nearly as well. He had the highway drive to sort out his thoughts and prepare himself, but he still didn’t feel mentally prepared for what was bound to be an awkward and possibly angry meeting.

  This time, it wasn’t at a coffee shop or other neutral location, but at Jocelyn’s house. It was a tiny house, but picturesque and carefully-maintained. It wasn’t a dirty, rat-infested apartment. It was probably better than anything she had lived in while she’d been in the trafficking business. Her own place.

  He didn’t have to force himself to press the doorbell. Jocelyn was watching for him and opened the door as he approached.

  “Hey,” Zachary greeted.

  She nodded. “Hi, Zach. Come on in.”

  Zachary entered. He took a quick glance around and opened his mouth to compliment her on her home. But he didn’t get the chance.

  Noah emerged from the kitchen into the tiny living room.

  He was looking much better than he had the last time Zachary had seen him. The cuts on his face were starting to heal. He had good color instead of being pasty white. The bullet track along his jaw was still ugly, but Zachary suspected he was probably proud of it. A sick-looking war wound.

  “Noah. Wow. How are you doing?”

  Noah shrugged. “I’m… doing okay. It’s weird. I don’t know what to do with myself.”

  Zachary nodded. Living in the tiny house with Joss instead of turning tricks in the city; that was a pretty big change. He suddenly had choices. And that might be pretty frightening.

  “Sit down, you goons,” Joss said irritably, motioning to the furniture. “That’s what the furniture is here for.”

  The men meekly obeyed.

  “Coffee?” Jocelyn asked sharply.

  “Always,” Zachary agreed.

  She didn’t wait for Noah’s answer, but disappeared into the kitchen.

  “Do you… know how Madison is doing?” Noah asked tentatively.

  “Part of the deal is that you don’t have anything to do with her.”

  “I know. And… I’m not going to try to contact her. I just wondered if she’s okay.”

  “She’s okay,” Zachary said neutrally. He wasn’t going to give Noah any details.

  That was the deal.

  Just like they weren’t going to tell Madison that Noah had woken up with only minor concussion issues. The plan was to give her no reason to go back to the life. Noah wanted out of the business and he wanted Madison to be free to go back to a normal life. That meant completely severing their ties.

  “That’s good,” Noah said contentedly, surprising Zachary by not pushing for more.

  “She owes you a lot for getting her out of there.”

  “No, she doesn’t. I’m the one to blame for her getting pulled in to start with. You’re the one who got her out.”

  “Not without your help.”

  Jocelyn returned with a round of coffee. “Luke is in a rehab program,” she informed Zachary without him asking anything. “Hopefully, he’ll stick with it, and be able to get into some kind of training, get himself a good job.”

  Zachary nodded. “Luke?”

  The boy shrugged. “New life, new name.” He sipped his coffee and stared out the window.

  “That’s good. Is it… I just wondered if it is your real name. I know that Noah probably wasn’t.”

  “It’s my real name now.”

  Zachary shrugged. It didn’t matter what Noah’s name had been before he’d been trafficked.

  All that mattered was what happened next.

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  Preview of He Never Forgot

  Chapter 1

  Zachary was on the highway driving home from Jocelyn’s house, thinking over his visit with Joss and the young man she was helping out, now known as Luke. It was going to be a long recovery period for Luke, after being trapped in human trafficking—both servicing his own clients and forced to recruit and train new teens—for a number of years. Successfully separating himself from that life was going to be more challenging for him than rehabbing from years of drug abuse. But if there was anyone who could help him through the process, it was Jocelyn.

  Joss had only recently come back into Zachary’s life. Separated from his family when he was ten, he was gradually reuniting with his siblings. Joss was the oldest, and the hardest so far to reconcile with. He sensed that she blamed him for the hard life she’d led; and rightly so, since he was the one who had accidentally lit the fire, the straw that broke the camel’s back. His parents had relinquished the children, severing all ties, and they had all been placed in foster care. So far, none of them had led particularly happy lives. Tyrrell seemed to have led the most normal life. Zachary hoped that the youngest childre
n in the family would turn out to have had an easier time. They had been almost two and four when they had been put into foster care, and under-fives had the best chances of recovering from trauma and leading a happy life.

  But despite their differences and Jocelyn’s generally bitter attitude, when Zachary had freed Luke from the trafficking ring, she had agreed to take him in and help him out. Zachary had a feeling that they would be good for each other. Joss already seemed to gentler and happier around him. She didn’t have any children of her own—as far as Zachary knew—and she seemed to have taken Luke under her wing. He was legally an adult, but still needed her protection and direction, and it seemed to be working out so far.

  He was enjoying the smooth highway drive, one of the only times that his restless brain would settle down and enter a more relaxed, meditative state when his phone rang over the car’s Bluetooth system.

  Zachary hit the answer button without looking at the number, assuming it would be Kenzie. But the voice that answered his greeting was not Kenzie’s.

  “Mr. Goldman? Is this the right number?” an uncertain male voice inquired.

  “Yeah, this is Zachary.” Zachary looked at the number on the radio screen but didn’t recognize it. “How can I help you?”

  “Of Goldman Investigations?”

  “Yes, sir.” Zachary waited for an explanation, hoping it was a client and not the IRS or a reporter.

  “Uh… my name is Ben Burton. I’m interested in retaining your services. That’s how they say it, isn’t it?”

  “You don’t have to use any special jargon. What is it you need to hire a private investigator for?”

  “Well…” Burton still hesitated, unsure of himself. It wasn’t an unusual reaction from a client hiring a private investigator for the first time, thinking of TV show PI’s they had seen. Hard-drinking, gun-toting, brilliant investigators. Wondering if they could really hire someone for their own problem, or if it was just ridiculous. Knowing that TV was not reality, and not sure what to expect. “I’d like to discuss it face-to-face, if we could do that. It’s really…” Burton groped for a word, drawing it out painfully long.