“I’ll need to go to my apartment to get a few things.” I glanced at Griff.
Griff leaned forward on the couch, his elbows on his thighs and looked at me. “This case now belongs to the Fort Kent and Grand Falls. Most likely the feds have been called too because of the border crossings. John and I are going back up to offer our assistance because Kira is still somewhere in the midst of it. But there’s no ‘you’ in ‘we’.”
“You can’t just bump me out.” Tears stung my eyes. I blinked them back damned if I was going to cry. “I’ve invested more than either one of you in this case. I’m not walking away. I’m in it until we find Kira. I told her I’d get her out and that’s not a promise I’m going to break.”
Griff sighed and leaned back on the couch, his eyes on John. John pursed his lips and nodded and Griff looked back to me. “If, and that’s a big if, you continue to work with us on this, under no circumstance will you do anything on your own. We’re secondary to the Canadian police. They’re allowing our involvement because of Kira. That means you’re with me or with John at all times. No heroics. Got it?”
“Got it.” In truth, even the thought of working alongside them scared me to death and imagining a confrontation with Lucas made it hard to breathe. But I couldn’t tell Griff or John that. I knew too well what Kira was going through and that left me no choice.
There was a soft knock at the door and Griff went to answer it. A woman, her voice so soft… a familiar laugh. It was Amy. I jumped out of the chair and ran down the hall into Amy’s anxious arms. We laughed and cried and hugged each other and then sat down still holding hands as though I would somehow disappear again if we let go. She touched the bruises on my face and demanded an explanation. I kept it vague, assuring her that they were nothing and I was fine. Lying through my teeth.
Griff worked around us setting the table. In the center, he placed a large bowl of his infamous spaghetti with Bolognese sauce. We took our seats and he kissed the top of my head as he reached past me to fill my plate. I blinked back tears. Less than twenty-four hours ago, I’d been sitting at Rusty’s hoping to get beat up instead of raped.
After serving, Griff took the seat on my left, at the head of the table and made a toast. “To courage, perseverance and forgiveness,” he said, his voice catching at the end.
We touched glasses all around, our Pinot Noir resting on John’s Diet Coke. I swallowed the wine against a lump in my throat.
After dinner, I cleared the table and Amy washed the dishes. We chitchatted about things in her life and avoided mine. She didn’t ask about the case we were working. She knew enough not to ask for answers she didn’t want to hear. And I’d covered as much of my body as I could so she wouldn’t have reason. At nine o’clock I closed the door behind her and John. I promised Amy that I’d call her first thing in the morning, but left out the fact that when I did call it would be from the road as we headed back to Canada.
Griff and I settled on the couch with a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. We’d done this hundreds of times, but never had I considered myself lucky or fortunate. I’d been oblivious to the world while Chunky Monkey melted over my tongue. I dropped the spoon in the half-full bowl and set it on the table.
“Done already?” Griff asked.
“Guilty.”
“What do you mean?”
“How can I sit here and eat ice cream while girls are abducted and sold for sex?”
Griff set his bowl beside mine. “It’s a huge problem. What we’re seeing is a drop in the bucket.”
“These girls are existing on bagels. Alcohol and drugs are the only relief they have. I can’t stop thinking about Kira and Julia and the rest of them. I feel like a deserter.”
“The girls you were with are safe. Oracles of the Kingdom is defunct. Rusty’s is closed. All that’s because of you. When we find Kira, that’ll also be because of you. You’re no deserter.”
“There’s one other thing.”
“What’s that?”
“As much as I want to find Kira, I’m scared shitless at the thought of seeing Lucas again.”
Griff nodded. “That’s why we’re making a stop before we meet John in the morning.”
“Where?”
“McCreaty’s Gun Shop and then the shooting range for a little practice. I want you to be able to protect yourself. Not saying you’ll need to, but better safe than sorry.”
TUESDAY
McCreaty’s opened at seven-thirty and Griff and I were not alone standing outside the door waiting for the deadbolt to slide back. Who the hell needs a gun at seven-thirty in the morning? We had to meet John at the precinct at nine, so I understood our press for time. But the two guys waiting with us, shifting from foot to foot outside the door didn’t look like they had any place to be other than somewhere sleeping it off.
Red McCreaty released the deadbolt promptly at seven-thirty and swung the door wide. The smile on his face widened seeing green on his doorstep at such an early hour. “Mornin’ folks, come on in.” He took a step back. The two men who had waited with us stepped past him and headed toward rifles standing vertically in a rack along the far wall. “What can I do you for?” he asked Griff.
“Need something lightweight, compact and comfortable for my friend.” Griff nodded to me.
Red turned and we followed him. I made a face at Griff. Friend?
He shrugged at me behind Red’s back. His look said, get over it.
Red led us to a glass case, inside were fifteen or twenty pistols, lots of options for ending someone’s life. That’s how I saw it. I wasn’t much for weapons.
“What’s it gonna be used for?” Red asked.
“Protection,” Griff told him.
The thought of having to pull one of these out and aim it toward Lucas brought a mix of anticipation and anxiety. On one hand, I’d like nothing more than an opportunity for payback. On the other, I was afraid of Lucas so there was a chance, put in the situation, I’d fold.
“Griff,” I tugged on his jacket. “I don’t know if I can…this might be a waste of money.”
He blew me off and turned back to Red.
“This little beauty is made for a woman,” Red said. “It’s a Charter Arms Pink Lady .38 Special Undercover Lite. She weighs just 12 ounces. Fits anywhere.” He looked at me and winked.
I turned my back to him and scouted the store for the two men. One was holding a rifle peering through the sight. The other was beside him hunched over a glass case.
“What do you think?” Griff asked.
I shrugged. Buying a gun made me feel like something was going to happen. If I had a gun, I was going to use it. “It’s okay,” I said.
“Hold it. See how it feels.” Red held the revolver in the palm of his hand.
I picked it up. “Light,” I said. I wrapped my fingers around the grip. It fit perfectly, even felt comfortable. “It’ll do.” I handed it back to Red.
“Now I just need to see your permit.”
Griff pulled the paperwork from his wallet and handed it to Red. I’d applied for the permit after deciding to join Griff’s PI firm, but I’d never taken the next step and bought a gun. I liked the investigative end of the business and most of the time our cases called for more brains than brawn, but the players in this game were of a different breed.
Red glanced at the permit and handed it back. “How much ammo you need?”
“Couple boxes,” Griff said. “We’re heading to the range for some practice.”
In less than ten minutes we were back in the car, Griff with his smug smile and me with my new Pink Lady.
“Look, I understand this makes you uncomfortable, but it gives me a little peace of mind. Nothing says you’ll have to use it, but if you need to you’ll have it.”
“I know. I get it. But I’m not sure that I’ll be able to use it even if I am in that kind of situation.”
“You will,” Griff said.
We drove toward the Falmouth Gun Club in silence. I thought about be
nding over the washing machine for Isaac and wondered how differently things might have gone if I’d had a gun on me. Isaac never would have raped me because I would have blown his fucking face off first. Maybe Griff was right. It was a good thing to have, just in case.
At the gun club, we walked past a row of shooters practicing from separate cubicles. Hanging the standard twenty-five yards in front of them was the silhouette of a man, each seeing a different face as they pulled the trigger. I had a collection of faces to imagine on mine.
Griff and I stepped inside an empty box and put on our protective gear then he handed me my shiny Pink Lady.
“It’s a little cliché,” I said looking at the girly gun.
He laughed. “Gotta have a sense of humor.”
“Yeah, this is a real hoot.”
After he’d loaded it, I took the gun from his hand and pointed it at the silhouette. Isaac loomed twenty-five yards out. Griff stood behind me and with his right hand at my elbow, raised my arm and steadied it with his own.
“Breathe,” he said. “This is just practice. When you feel ready, pull the trigger.”
I took a breath, clenched my teeth and squeezed. The recoil sent me backward into Griff’s chest. When I looked at the shadow image in front of me, it was clean. Not a mark on it. “I think I shut my eyes,” I said.
“That’s okay. That’s why we’re practicing. Try it again. It’s not so hard. Just aim and shoot.”
I tried and retried and Griff loaded and reloaded and by my tenth shot I was keeping my feet solidly planted and my eyes open. I had yet to make a mark on Isaac’s shadow, but I was getting comfortable. The Pink Lady and I were becoming friends. One more reload and Isaac’s chest had sprouted three holes, his face was still unmarred, but I was getting closer.
“Chances are if you are shooting, it’s not going to be from this distance. You’ll be closer and more accurate.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“Just sayin’.” He checked his watch. “We better go. John’s eager to be on the road. He’s gonna be a wreck until this is over.”
“He’s not alone,” I said.
At the Portland Police Station, John was standing beside his black Suburban when we pulled up. “Where the hell you been?” He asked, leaning into the passenger window.
“Had an errand to do,” Griff said, “McCreaty’s.” He nodded toward me.
John tapped his palm against the window frame. “Good idea. Park this thing in the back lot.” He stepped away from the car. “And hurry the hell up.”
Griff slipped his SUV into a space behind the building and we gathered our bags from the back. My new purchase was in a case, inside my bag. I could feel the hard edge of the box rubbing against my thigh with each step. Part of me was scared shitless to own a gun because of what I might do with it and part of me felt like an Amazon woman because I owned a gun and what I might do with it.
How’s the department feel about this?” I asked John as he eased the Suburban onto Interstate 95 and headed north.
“They had Kira pegged as a runaway from the get-go. I never believed that. It’s taken me three years to find her without their help. They feel like schmucks. And they should. I’m on leave for as long as I need to be.”
“As usual, they did the least they could do,” Griff said.
“I booked two rooms at a motel in Saint-Leonard,” John said changing the subject. “It’s no five star hotel, but you’ll have a place to sleep.”
“It’ll do,” Griff said. “That’s all we’ll need.”
“First stop is Fort Kent. See if Stebbins or Isaac has decided to take a deal.”
“What’s the offer?” I asked.
“Either of them gives us Lucas, they get special consideration at sentencing.”
“How special?” I asked pissed off that an offer was extended. They should get everything they had coming and then some, but I knew John would sell his soul to find Kira so I kept my mouth shut. This was his gig.
“I don’t know. That’s up to the judge and the district attorney.”
Five hours and one pit stop later, John turned off the engine and we stepped out of the Suburban and into the police department’s parking lot in Fort Kent, the northern most town in Maine.
We stopped in front of the desk sergeant who was on the phone debating a grocery list with…his wife? Girlfriend? Significant other?
“I don’t like turkey bacon,” he said. (Which was obvious by the jellyroll of flesh hanging over his belt.) Get the real deal or don’t get anything.” He held up a finger requesting us to wait until he got this matter settled with whoever was on the other end. “Yeah, yeah, 2% is okay. I can live with it. And Budweiser.” He hung up the phone. “What can I do you for, folks?”
“Who’s in charge of the investigation regarding Chief Stebbins and Isaac Bennett?” John asked.
“And you are?”
“Detective Stark,” said a voice behind us.
We turned as a handsome, fiftyish man approached. He glanced disapprovingly at the officer behind the desk and extended his hand to John. “Detective Merridan. Come this way.”
We followed him through an empty squad room, a half full box of donuts sat on a table next to a Mr. Coffee. A sticker on the front of one desk said “I’d rather be fishing.”
Inside a corner office, Merridan closed the door. “I’m sorry to say that I haven’t had much luck so far. We’ve emptied the Oracles of the Kingdom farm. Whole place is cordoned off in yellow tape and we’re combing every inch. The women have been relocated to their families, friends or whatever we could do for them.”
“Ruth’s in Windham Prison?” I asked.
“Yes”, Merridan said. “Isaac Bennett’s daughter was taken to the women’s facility.”
“She’s not a bad person.”
“Tell it to the judge,” he said.
“And Stebbins and Isaac?” Griff asked.
“They’re downstairs. They’ll stay until their arraignment.”
“You get anything from them?”
“Zip. Neither one’s talking.”
“I don’t want to step on any toes,” John said. “But Bennett had my daughter for close to a year and she’s still missing. Would you be willing to let me talk to him?”
Merridan hesitated. “I doubt you’ll get anything.”
“I’d like to try.”
“Can’t hurt, I suppose.”
We followed Merridan down two flights of green metal stairs. He lifted a latch on a barred door. The hinges groaned open and we stepped into the holding area. A young cop looked up from the copy of Hunter’s Monthly in his hand.
Merridan motioned John into a two by four room. He took a seat at the table. Griff and I went into an adjacent room to watch. Ten minutes later the guard led Isaac in. He slithered into the chair across from John.
“I’m Detective John Stark. My daughter, Kira, was at your farm.”
“Nice piece,” Isaac grinned. “You do good work.”
John’s hands clenched on the table.
“I like to test out my merchandise before making a sale. I think that’s only fair, don’t you?”
Griff reached over and took my hand, holding it tight between both of his.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass about how you do business,” John said. “I want my daughter back and you’re gonna tell me how to find her.”
“If only it were that easy. Once my girls leave my home I don’t know where they go.”
“Who’s Lucas?”
“Never heard of him.”
“Bullshit. We have eyewitness information regarding everyone and everything that went on at Oracles of the Kingdom.”
Isaac laughed. “Now it’s my turn. Bullshit.”
I pulled my hand out of Griff’s. “I’m going in there.”
“John’s doing fine.”
“But Isaac doesn’t believe him. If he sees me, he’ll know he’s screwed. He might talk.”
“You’re not going in there. It’s too soon for you to confront him.”
I moved past him and opened the door.
“You’re making a mistake,” Griff said.
In the hallway I put my hand on the knob of the interrogation room door and took a breath. Isaac was as low as they come. He’d gotten the better of me once, but it wouldn’t happen again. He looked up when I opened the door. The surprise on his face was worth the risk of confronting him and gave me an immediate upper hand. My heart slowed.
“No, not bullshit,” I said. “He does know everything about the farm.”
Isaac’s recovery was seamless. “Yeah? Does he know what a good lay his informant is?”
I thought of Griff listening from the other side of the glass. My stomach knotted.
“Does he know you like it doggie style? Oh, Mama, that soft, white ass.”
Tears stung my eyes.
“Enough.” John stood, his chair flipped backward and clanged onto the cement floor. He grabbed Isaac by the hair and pressed his face into the table.
The cop in the corner cleared his throat and shuffled foot to foot.
“You open your mouth again and I’ll drive your face through the metal. You got it?” Isaac nodded as best he could under John’s hold. John looked at me. “Out,” he said.
I turned without a word and left the room. Griff was waiting in the hallway. He didn’t say anything just guided me back into the observation room so we could listen to the rest of John’s interview.
“Griff…” I said once he’d closed the door.
He held his hand up and shook his head. “I told you not to do it.”
“I thought I could help.”
“You can. Just not like that.”
“You don’t have to get pissed. I was trying to…” My voice cracked and I stopped. “I’m sorry that you had to hear that.”
He turned and his face softened when he looked at me. “I’m not pissed, but we have to treat this like any other case. We can’t get tangled up in emotions right now. How we feel about what you went through has to wait if we’re going to be of any help to John.”
I leaned against the wall beside the door and closed my eyes. I wasn’t very good at compartmentalizing. If something was making me crazy I couldn’t set it aside until the moment was right. “If this relationship is too much…I mean If you can’t be with me because…because of…”
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