The Emma I had met would have cringed to see them displayed.
The Emma I had met had been wearing the same blood-stained shirt.
“She’s dead, isn’t she?”
Payns held my gaze, as if searching for something positive to say, then sighed. “We’ll know more after we investigate.”
I shook my head. “None of the girls had seen her for weeks, not since she ran away. I don’t think Manolo ever brought her back. I think he killed Emma right after he abducted her outside her parent’s home. No wonder I couldn’t find her. I’ve been chasing a dead girl.”
Energy drained from my body as the tension of the last seven days hit me all at once. I sank onto the edge of the bed. “It’s all been for nothing.”
“Nothing? What about those girls in the other room? Are they nothing?”
“Of course not. I meant—”
“I know what you meant. You think I don’t go through this every day of my career? That I don’t work for months or years just to watch it all fall apart? But that’s not what happened here. You helped us stop a sex trafficking organization we’ve been after for a very long time. Without the footage you provided and leading us here to this treasure trove of evidence, Manolo and his crew would be gang raping that little girl and branding her with an iron. This is how it works, Lily. The girl you were searching for died, but the fifty you will never meet—the girls Manolo would have bought, kidnapped, or coerced—were saved.”
Payns shook his head with disgust. “I don’t know how many girls they ran, but I’m guessing there were at least twenty.”
“Kristina said there could be as many as thirty.”
“Shit. Well, after I finish interrogating those pricks, I’ll send someone to reach out to them—give all those girls a chance to turn their lives around. Hell, I’ll even connect them with Forsaken Children: City of Angels.”
“That would be great.”
“See? We’re not so bad. You should cut us some slack. We’re on the same side.”
Payns had no idea what he was asking. I had lost confidence in law enforcement when the detectives failed to find my sister’s killer. After I delivered my own kind of justice, I had another reason to stay clear of the cops.
I had trolled the bars for my sister’s killer and been conned by the same manipulations he had likely used on her. He charmed me, drugged me, and trapped me in a car, pinned me in a seat, and had been about to do to me what he had done to her. I had been helpless to stop him. Then the drug wore off, and I was able to reach my silver dagger pendant and stabbed him in the neck, face, throat. I’d unleashed my rage and fought like a demon, punishing him not only for what he had tried to do to me but for what he had already done to Rose. I fought and stabbed until his life bled out, then left him for dead in his car. Although the incident was never reported in the news, I was fairly certain the man had died. Either way, I wasn’t sure the cops would have believed me that I had stabbed him in self defense.
I couldn’t think of a single interaction I’d had with law enforcement, since my sister’s murder or while working for Aleisha’s Refuge that made me feel as if we were on the same side. Until now.
“You won’t charge Brianna?”
“No.”
“And you won’t turn Ana Lucía’s parents over to ICE? They might be scared to come in.”
“I won’t.”
I stood up and shook his hand. “You’re a good man, Francis.”
He laughed. “Call me that again, and I’ll arrest you.”
“I thought we were on the same side?”
“Not if you call me Francis.”
“Fair enough.”
I checked in on Ana Lucía as the paramedics loaded her onto the gurney. Although she had made it to the bed with Kristina and Brianna, she was too weak and dehydrated to walk all the way to the ambulance. I understood the necessity, but I also knew how terrified she must feel to be tied down.
I hurried to her side. “I’m right here. And I’m not leaving.” I looked up at the paramedics, daring them to argue. “I’m riding with you to the hospital.”
They looked to Payns for verification.
He held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I haven’t won an argument with her yet.”
“What about us?” Brianna asked, glancing nervously at Payns. “I don’t want to be left alone with the cops.”
Kristina joined her. “Me, neither.” Now that Brianna was no longer Manolo’s bottom, Kristina clung to her like a sister.
I cocked my head at Payns. “That brand could be infected, and who knows what kind of STDs or malnutrition these girls could be suffering from.”
We locked eyes: me pushing and him deciding how much to bend.
He turned to the paramedic. “You have room on the bench, right? Take them all.” He touched my arm before I could walk away. “I’ll follow shortly. Make sure you’re still at the hospital when I get there.”
Chapter
Fifty-Five
Payns found me in the waiting area moments before Ms. Ruiz arrived. Accompanying her was a statuesque woman with a no-nonsense demeanor. The two of them, one short and the other tall, both dressed in black pantsuits and white shirts, reminded me of Men in Black.
Ms. Ruiz greeted me with an outstretched hand. “Hello, Lily. I got here as soon as I could. This is our attorney, Sally Cappelletti. She looks out for our girls.”
Both women had a strong grip and a tight smile. I would too, if I’d been summoned to work at four in the morning. Instead, I’d been through the wringer and gave their hands an easy shake.
“Thanks for coming. This is Lieutenant Payns.”
“Oh, I know the lieutenant,” Ms. Ruiz said, shaking his hand and exchanging greetings as I mentally kicked myself in the butt. Of course she knew him. I must have been wearier than I thought to have forgotten she was the one who gave me his name and number.
The attorney greeted Payns and reintroduced herself. “Sally Cappelletti, legal counsel representing Forgotten Children: City of Angels. I hear there were three girls rescued from a commercial sex trafficker named Manuel Rodriguez?”
Payns nodded. “Two minors, one adult.”
Cappelletti fixed him with an impatient look. “Really? You want to get into that now?”
He snorted and glanced at me as if Sally and I were ganging up on him. “No. You want to see them?”
“Yes, please.”
“Any particular order?”
“All together, if that’s possible.”
He smirked. “Sure. Why not?”
Payns led us into Ana Lucía’s hospital room, where Cheeks—or rather Kristina—sat on the edge of the bed, holding Ana Lucía’s hand, while Brianna dozed in a chair.
Payns gestured to the girls. “We haven’t been able to separate them without the youngest girl getting hysterical.”
“That would be Ana Lucía?”
“It would.”
“And the girl dozing in the chair?”
“That’s Dolla. She’s the adult.”
“Her name’s Brianna Wilson,” I corrected. “And she’s been trafficked since she was fifteen.”
Payns shrugged. “Just stating the facts.”
Ms. Cappelletti nodded. “Well, some facts are grayer than others.”
Brianna woke with alarm and jumped to her feet. “What’s going on? Who are you? What do you want?”
I held out a hand to calm her down. “Easy, Brianna.” I gestured toward the shorter woman with the somber face and swept-up hair. “This is Ms. Ruiz. I told you about her, remember? And this is her lawyer, Sally Cappelletti. They’re here to help.”
“I don’t want their help. I want them out of here.”
Ms. Cappelletti came forward and greeted Brianna with a genuinely warm smile. “I know this is scary. It’s scary for all of you. That’s why I’m here, to make sure everyone respects the ordeal you’ve endured and the incredible ris
ks you’ve taken to help the police—especially you, Brianna. It’s my understanding that without you, Lily could never have infiltrated Manuel Rodriguez’ operation. And if Lily hadn’t done that, Manuel and his crew would still be trafficking minors and committing all manner of atrocities.” She offered a sad smile to Kristina and Ana Lucía. “If not for Brianna and Lily, you girls would have been lost for good. Wouldn’t you agree, Lieutenant?”
Payns frowned, trapped between simple fact and a clever presentation, designed to remind him and the girls to deal fairly with Brianna and me. The lawyer was laying her foundation. Her case had already begun.
Payns rubbed the back of his neck and offered the slightest twitch of a grin.
Having forced the desired acknowledgment, Ms. Cappelletti returned her attention to us. “I need to have a moment with Lieutenant Payns, but Ms. Ruiz will stay with you and answer any questions you might have. Lily, would you join us?”
“Sure.”
Ana Lucía whimpered, “I want my mommy,” reminding us all how young she really was.
Payns stepped forward. “Your parents are on their way and very relieved to hear you’re safe.”
Ana Lucía burst into tears. Brianna climbed into the bed to comfort her. I turned to Payns and whispered, “Still think she’s a trafficker?”
He nodded toward the door. “Outside.”
Once we reached the corridor, Ms. Cappelletti stopped him. “This is far enough.”
“Suit yourself.”
“We need to establish the ground rules. The state will have a stronger case if all of these girls testify.”
“Obviously.”
“But if any of them do, what they say may incriminate Brianna. That includes Lily.”
“What are you saying? You don’t want any of them to testify? Because we won’t have much of a case without them. Even with Lily’s testimony, all we’d really have is false imprisonment, child abuse, and a possible accessory to an attempted rape—and that’s providing the jury believed her. If we find Emma’s body, we might be able to nail Rodriguez for her murder, but probably not his crew. Saint, Ricky, Big D will be out on the streets in months. And Rodriguez will be trafficking again within a decade.”
“Or…” Ms. Cappelletti said. “You can guarantee immunity for all of them against any charge, and I’ll encourage all four of them to testify in closed court.”
Payns laughed. “I know what you want, but it’s not up to me.”
“Then I suggest you call the people who can make those decisions, quickly, while we still have influence over these girls. Wait too long and they’ll scatter to the proverbial winds.”
“Is that a threat?”
She smirked. “Just stating the facts.”
He heaved an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But nobody leaves.”
“Understood.”
As we watched Payns stomp toward the elevators, I turned toward the lawyer. “That was badass.”
She laughed. “High praise coming from you.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“I know enough.” She nodded toward the hospital room. “And I’m not just here to look out for them. Ms. Ruiz asked me to look out for your interests, as well. She led me to believe that anonymity might be important to you.”
I laughed. “You could say that.”
“All right, then. Nobody talks until everyone has immunity. Given the sensitivity of the case and the minors involved, the judge should have no objection to a closed court. I’ll do everything I can to keep your name—or at the very least, your face—out of the public eye.”
As I opened my mouth to thank her, Payns headed up the corridor with a frightened Guatemalan couple, a stout woman in a purple dress and a tiny man with chipped front teeth.
“Ana Lucía’s parents?” I asked, following him into the hospital room.
He nodded and turned to Ms. Ruiz, who standing by the door. “I could use your help. They don’t speak much English.”
“I’d be happy to.”
Kristina and Brianna jumped off the bed to make room for Ana Lucía’s parents, who rushed to their daughter and bathed her in tears. I couldn’t imagine their relief—or their horror at seeing their precious baby battered and starved.
As we watched their tearful reunion, Ms. Ruiz touched me on the shoulder. “I thought you’d like to know—Josie came in yesterday.”
“Off the street? For good?”
Ms. Ruiz shrugged. “We try not to look that far ahead. But for now, she’s living in one of our houses and has enrolled in our online tutoring program. When she’s caught up to speed, she can finish her high school education and either graduate or take the GED.”
“That’s wonderful.”
“She came in because of you.”
“She said that?”
Ms. Ruiz nodded. “She said, and I quote, ‘If she cares so much about me, I guess I should too.’”
I laughed, drawing a stern look from Payns.
“If you’re not too busy having fun, Miss Wong, I received a call from the detective in charge of Kristina Flynn’s case. Her parents want her to call them. Do you think she will?”
I thought of my one and only conversation with Emma Hughes back at Aleisha’s Refuge. Her parents had been desperate to speak with her as well, and Emma had been worried that they wouldn’t forgive her. Would Kristina feel the same?
“I don’t know. Want me to ask?”
He nodded. “Please.”
I caught Kristina’s eye and nodded toward the corridor. When she followed, I led the way to the waiting area and sat in a cozy nook.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Your parents. The detective on your case in Phoenix gave them a call and told them you’d been found. They’ve been so worried. They’re desperate to hear your voice.”
Kristina blinked back the tears. “I don’t think I can.”
“It’s okay. Take a breath.” I waited for her to swallow the sobs, then tried again. “They know you were abducted. They’ve been told about the trafficking. And they know that none of this is your fault.”
She shook her head and fought not to cry. “The things I’ve done.”
I squeezed her hands. “The things you were forced to do. They don’t care about any of that. They just want to hear your voice and know you’ve really been found.”
“But—”
“It doesn’t have to be a long conversation, just enough to put them at ease. You’ve been missing for two years, Kristina, and they’ve suffered every one of those days.”
She sniffed back the tears and inhaled a steadying breath. “Yeah. Okay.” Then she held out her hand for my phone.
I gave it to her and rose to leave.
“Wait,” she said. “I don’t want to do this alone.”
“All right.”
I sat back down, as she punched in the number. I heard a woman’s voice on the other end.
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Kristina? Oh, sweet Jesus, is that really you?”
“Mom?”
Kristina burst into tears and repeated that one precious word, over and over.
Chapter
Fifty-Six
The patrol car zipped through the early morning streets, carrying me to a meeting I didn’t want to have. The thought of it made me cold. I hugged the paper coffee cup in both hands and rested my chin on the plastic lid, drawing what comfort I could from the heat.
The detective from Phoenix had arrived before I left the hospital. He and Lieutenant Payns were in deep conversation with Sally Cappelletti. From what I could tell, the attorney had both men well in hand. Kristina would also have added support from her parents, who—after their tearful phone call reunion—were on their way to Los Angeles.
Ms. Cappelletti was also looking out for Brianna, who she had isolated in a corner. The attorney guarded her like a pit bull and wouldn’t let anyone n
ear her. She wasn’t taking any chances until she had immunity for all of us in writing.
Meanwhile, Ms. Ruiz stayed with Ana Lucía, who had calmed considerably after her parents had arrived. Neither of them spoke more than rudimentary English and were terrified to be in the presence of law enforcement. Ms. Ruiz made them all more comfortable and had contacted an immigration legal aid foundation in case they needed counsel or protection.
As for me—I was free to go.
I cleaned up in the hospital washroom, exchanged my shorty-shorts for leggings, and doubled up on my shirts. It wasn’t much, but the added layers made me look less like a hooker and kept me from shivering in the air conditioning. I could have worn the tracksuit I had lent to Ana Lucía, but I wanted her to have it in case they released her from the hospital before her parents had a chance to bring her clothes.
I sipped the coffee.
The officer driving the patrol car had been one of several to follow Ricky and Saint to the hospital. After checking in with Payns, he’d been told to drive me home to Culver City. I would have preferred to call for my own ride, but didn’t want to appear ungrateful. And since I wasn’t actually headed home, I didn’t worry about the cop knowing where I lived.
“It’s the second house on the left with the white metal fence,” I said, pointing to Aleisha’s Refuge.
I settled into my seat and waited for him to swing around. It’s discomfiting to sit in the back of a patrol car, caged in like a criminal. I lost count of how many people stared at me through the windows, wondering what I had done.
I thought of Sensei.
True empathy is the foundation for all meaningful relationships.
If this were true, perhaps the experience of being transported like a criminal and stared at with suspicion and disdain would help me build a trusting relationship with Brianna. That would be good. I no longer thought of her as Dolla, Queen of the Sex Trafficking Vipers. To me, she was Brianna Wilson, an eighteen-year-old mother, raped by her stepfather, doing the best she could to protect her child.
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