by Sam Sisavath
Lucy finished and held up the tablet showing a picture of a blonde woman in slacks and a black jacket standing in the street. He could tell she was pretty, as if she had just stepped out of a photo shoot even though the shot was clearly taken from a distance and without the woman’s knowledge. There were buildings with Spanish writing in the background.
“This is Juliet,” Lucy said. “Or, it was Juliet three months ago.”
She flicked at the screen, then held it up again. The same woman, except this time she was wearing a black-and-white striped uniform. The glamour was gone, replaced by unkempt hair and angry, hard eyes.
“This is Juliet three weeks ago,” Lucy said.
“What happened to her?”
“She’s in a Mexican prison. I guess looking good isn’t a priority down there.” She put the tablet down. “Allie found a link between Juliet and Faith; then it took her a month to track the woman down.”
“In prison?”
“Well, she wasn’t in prison at the time.”
Lucy smiled, and Hank thought, Oh man, do I really want to hear what’s coming next?
“How did she end up in prison?” he asked anyway.
“Allie needed leverage. Some way to get Juliet to cooperate. So one day, while Juliet was staying at a four-star hotel in Mexico City, a drug-sniffing dog found a backpack full of heroin in her room.”
“She framed the woman?”
“Yes,” Lucy said without hesitation.
“Jesus Christ.” Hank stood up and began pacing the room. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” the girl said, and he thought she might have rolled her eyes at him behind his back. “Juliet is no saint. She’s been helping bad guys smuggle girls back and forth across the Texas-Mexico border. The woman is a real bitch.”
“And you have proof of that? Her criminal activities?”
“Of course.”
Hank calmed down and looked back at the girl, saw the confidence in her face, the look of someone who was one-hundred percent certain they were on the side of the angels. He didn’t want to tell her that he’d encountered plenty of people who had thought that way, except the evidence proved them wrong.
“Go on,” he said.
“After she was incarcerated, Allie visited Juliet and told her what happened, why she was just convicted of smuggling drugs and was never going to get out until she was an old lady. If she got out at all.”
“You’re serious…”
“As a stroke,” the girl said. Then, without missing a beat: “Why do you think Allie is out there right now traveling with two assholes while there’s a semitrailer hauling more girls to a place where everything they are, everything they will be, will be stripped from them now and forever?” The girl’s face grew dark. “Juliet put her in touch with them. Told them she was an old friend who could be trusted to replace her while she dealt with…personal issues.”
“They don’t know she’s in jail.”
“Not a clue. These gigs are always last-minute affairs—a day, maybe two days of lead time, which is why they always work with the same groups of people. They needed someone to replace Juliet, and Juliet recommended Allie. Or Alice, as they know her. Allie had to wait almost a month and a half for that call to finally come in, but she can be very patient.”
“And somehow all of this led your friend to robbing Ben’s Diner?”
“I don’t know what happened there,” Lucy said. “Maybe it was some kind of test. I don’t know for sure. But she recognized you from her research. Like I said, you don’t really look all that different.”
“Bigger,” he said, rubbing his gut.
“Just a tad,” she said, and pinched her fingers together.
He grunted and walked to the window, then looked out at the parking lot outside. He could see Lucy’s reflection in the glass, watching him closely from the bed, maybe trying to decide if she could trust him with the rest of her secrets. It was a good question, because Hank wasn’t sure he wanted to know the rest of it.
Oh, who are you kidding, old man. You didn’t come here to grab a can of Coke. You want this.
You miss it. Admit it. You miss the action.
Hank knew all about slavery rings. Too much, in fact. It was a disgusting and brutal trade, the kind where girls—the younger the better—were treated like chattel, passed from place to place, criminal to criminal. Someone like Faith—a blue-eyed, blonde all-American girl—would fetch a better price than most, and for a longer period. But would she last two years?
“Tell me the rest,” Hank said. “How does Allie plan on locating Faith?”
“By getting to the end of the line,” Lucy said.
“The end of what line?”
“Where the girls are being transported to. Finding the people behind all of this. And if that doesn’t work out…” Lucy shrugged. “I think Allie is playing most of it by ear. She’s pretty good at improvising.”
“It’s a dangerous game she’s playing. Ben’s Diner, these two guys she’s riding around with…”
“Trust me, lieutenant, you’re not telling us anything we don’t already know. Allie more than anyone.”
“Which leads me back here. Why did she give me your phone number?”
“I don’t know,” Lucy said. “Maybe she thought you could help.”
“Help how?”
“You’re a former police lieutenant, right?”
“State police lieutenant, yeah.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Well, one’s state—” He stopped and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, I guess. Why would she think I can help?”
“I don’t know, but Allie doesn’t do anything without a reason. If she gave you my number, that means she wanted you to contact me.”
“She read my files, so she would already know I’m retired.”
“That’s a given, yeah.”
“Meaning…what, exactly?”
“I don’t know. We never discussed bringing someone else into this. It was always just going to be the two of us. I guess when she saw you out there, she took advantage of it. So you’re right; she definitely gave you my number for a reason.”
Hank narrowed his eyes at the darkening parking lot outside. No matter how many times he rolled the question around in his head, the answers didn’t come. Why did Allie send him here? Why did she think he could help them? Or was there another reason he wasn’t seeing?
“Maybe the fact you’re retired is why,” Lucy said.
He looked back at her. “I don’t understand…”
“I mean, cops have rules, right?”
“I’m not constricted by procedure anymore, if that’s what you mean.”
“Is that a good thing?”
He shrugged. “It depends on what she expects from me. Cops have a lot of paperwork to file, hoops to jump through, before they can even take a fart. It’s a real pain in the ass, and one of the reasons I don’t miss the job. That’s the good news.”
“And the bad news?”
“I don’t have a badge anymore. All I got is that snub nose in the nightstand drawer. I don’t have people to answer to, yeah, but it also means I don’t have anyone who answers to me either, you understand?”
She nodded, and he thought she might have looked a little disappointed. Oh, who was he kidding. She looked a lot disappointed.
“So what does all of this mean?” she asked.
“I have no idea, kid,” Hank said. “I don’t even know where your friend is—and neither do you—so I don’t know how she expects me to help her in the first place. For all we know, she might have just sent me here to babysit you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I can take care of myself. Besides, Apollo is here.”
“He’s just a dog…”
Lucy smiled at him.
“What?” he said.
“Nothing,” she said. Then, “You said we do
n’t even know where she is right now, right?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, I think I might know.” The girl stood up and walked over to him with the tablet. “One of my jobs is to monitor all the local and national news feeds. I saw this one earlier today before you showed up.”
Lucy pushed a small box on the tablet that widened by itself until it filled the whole screen. It was a video feed of a newscast showing the remains of a state trooper cruiser parked on the side of the interstate. Its front windshield was covered in holes, and Hank could make out blood on the front seat upholstery. Uniformed troopers were barricading the scene even as vehicles continued to flash across the TV camera on both sides.
“Jesus Christ,” he whispered.
“Someone killed two state troopers earlier during what the news is calling a routine traffic stop,” Lucy said.
“And you think Allie has something to do with this?”
“I don’t think she shot them, if that’s what you’re saying.”
“Kid, she shot me.”
“She clipped you,” Lucy said. “Trust me, if Allie shot to kill, you’d be dead right now. She didn’t do this, but look at that damage.”
“Automatic weapons fire.”
“Yeah. Who would carry that kind of firepower around and shoot up a state trooper car with it?”
“People who can’t afford to be stopped or questioned.”
Lucy nodded. “I think so, too.” She put the tablet away under her arm. “So now we know Allie’s last known location, along with the direction she’s headed.”
“That’s something, I guess,” Hank said. “Still doesn’t tell us where she is right now, or where she’s going. Or what she thinks I can do to help her.”
“I don’t know the answers to any of those questions, either,” Lucy said, “but she didn’t have to give you my number. And yet, from what you told me, she took a big risk doing it. She wouldn’t have done that without a reason.”
“You don’t know that for sure.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“I know Allie.”
Hank didn’t reply. He looked out at the darkness instead.
Somewhere out there, two of his brothers were dead. They weren’t his brothers by blood, but that didn’t matter when you wore the same uniform. He wondered if he knew them or their families. Cops tended to breed cops; it was either a storied tradition or a vicious cycle, depending on your perspective, and it wasn’t unusual to have the kid of someone retired show up and assume the old man’s locker.
He glanced over at the small girl standing next to him. She barely came up to his chin, but she looked so much older than the first time he saw her standing at the motel door, greeting him.
“What is she, an ex-cop?” Hank asked.
“Who?”
“Allie.”
Lucy seemed almost amused by the question. “No.”
“Ex-military? Some kind of ex-government spook?”
“No, nothing like that. She’s just someone who cares.”
“Kid, you don’t do the things she’s doing if you’re just a civilian who just happens to care too much. Even if you are independently wealthy like you’re telling me she is. Bruce Wayne in the comic books, sure, but people like that don’t exist in real life.”
The girl smiled back at him.
“What?” he said.
“I’m just shocked you know who Bruce Wayne is.”
“Batman’s been around, kid. I know it’s hard to believe, but there are things out there older than me.”
“You’re right,” Lucy said, “that is hard to believe.”
He grunted. “Smart ass.”
Seven
The alternate plan took them to an old drive-in movie theater, surrounded by thick woods, about half a mile off the interstate. The place hadn’t seen a customer in years—maybe decades—and weeds had begun breaking through the concrete parking lot, or at least the parts that she could see as their car’s headlights swept across them. It was dark when they pulled up next to a lone, abandoned building in the middle of the place and stopped in front of a sign that was missing all of its letters.
They climbed out of the Ford, leftover debris crunching under Allie’s shoes. She looked over at the semitrailer as it rumbled loudly through the driveway that connected the clearing to the road. She couldn’t make out the interstate beyond the thick trees, but the staccato blinking of headlights on the other side was hard to miss. They were, for all intents and purposes, hidden from the world back here, which was the reason Reese had chosen it as his backup location. It was a perfect spot to regroup.
“How long are we staying here?” she asked as they watched the semitrailer’s headlights splashing across them as it neared.
“We need new transportation, along with a new Vanguard,” Reese said.
“He’s being his usual paranoid self,” Dwight said. “We don’t need new transportation. They’re looking for a white van. Full stop. There’s nothing that ties us to the shooting.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Reese said. “There’s no point in risking it.”
“This job’s already taking too long…”
“Something that’s worth doing is worth doing right, my friend. Didn’t your mother ever tell you that?”
“Among other things,” Dwight grunted, but didn’t continue the argument.
Reese walked forward and waved at the approaching semi, then directed it to a spot nearby. As she watched the big rig come to a lurching stop, she couldn’t help but think about Sara and the other girls crammed inside the vehicle’s narrow metal walls.
Not yet, not yet…
Reese jogged over to the semi, climbed up the step outside the passenger-side door, and leaned in through the window. He said something to the driver, who shut off the engine and turned off the bright headlights.
“What about the girls?” she asked Dwight, who had remained behind at the Ford with her. Was that on purpose, she wondered, to keep an eye on her?
“They’ve been riding around back there for four days now,” Dwight said. “A few more extra hours won’t make any difference.”
You think so? I’d like to shove your ass in there and see how you like it after four days.
Reese had walked back to them. “I need to call in, let them know we’re going to be delayed.”
“You gonna tell them about the shooting?” Dwight asked.
“I have to. Start lying now, and we won’t be able to stop.”
“They won’t like it.”
“I don’t like it, but it is what it is.”
“I know exactly what they’re going to tell you: ‘Push on through; don’t wait for replacements.’”
“And I’ll tell them what I’m telling you: It’s all under control, as long as everyone stays calm.”
Dwight smirked and said to her, “If you haven’t grasped it yet, ol’ Reese here’s a stickler for caution. You would think the guy used to be a CPA or something in a previous life.”
Reese ignored his partner and put some space between them before taking out a cell phone from his pocket. Allie didn’t move and was hoping to hear something—maybe some details about who they were—but Dwight ruined that, too.
“Need you inside the trailer, Alice in Wonderland,” the man said, holding out a Maglite he had retrieved from the Ford’s glove compartment.
“Why?” she asked.
“To do your job and make sure the girls are okay.”
“I thought you didn’t care.”
He shrugged. “I don’t, but they pay us by the head. And a busted one just doesn’t pay nearly as much.”
Asshole, she thought, but took the flashlight and headed for the trailer.
The two men in the semi had climbed out of the cab and were milling around. They both wore jackets, and despite the semidarkness, with only small pools of light emanating from the Ford and semi’s ceiling lights, she could just make out the shapes of pistols
in holsters behind their backs.
“I need to open the trailer,” Allie told them.
They met her halfway, one of them fishing out a key ring from his pocket. Allie flicked the flashlight on and off to check it, then stood back and waited as the two men unlocked the twin doors—
“Hey!” a male voice shouted, coming from behind them.
The two men froze and looked back at her, but Allie was too busy turning around just as a lone figure emerged out of the shadows from across the parking lot. A flashlight bounced up and down in front of the man, and Allie quickly turned hers off and pocketed it, then let her right hand drop to her side.
“What are you guys doing here?” the figure shouted as he picked up his pace toward them.
Allie glanced back at the two men. They were still clinging to the door handles, as if unsure what to do. “Leave it,” she said.
They let go of the doors and stepped away, but she noticed they had left the lock unlatched. All it would take was for someone on the other side to give a push and the doors would swing open. Sara was a small girl and weak from the “four days on the road,” but all it would take was one or two more of the other girls to lend a hand…
No, she thought, looking back across the parking lot. Not yet.
Besides, there was just one man, and he could have been anyone from a cop to an unarmed civilian. Either way, he wasn’t going to be very much help to her against Dwight and Reese and the two behind her.
Not yet. Not yet…
“You’re not supposed to be here!” the figure shouted.
Neither Dwight nor Reese had answered the man. Reese had casually put away the phone he had been talking into and walked around the Ford while Dwight remained standing next to the driver-side door. They were just twenty yards from her, but she thought she could make out Dwight’s body stiffening noticeably at the sight of the lone approaching figure.
Reese was the exact opposite. The man remained calm and she thought, Jesus Christ, he must have ice water in his veins. Either that, or he’s some kind of goddamn tin man robot.
“Hello!” Reese shouted back, though he probably didn’t have to because the stranger was less than thirty yards from them now. A beam of light hit Reese in the face and he flinched a bit, but he managed to smile through it anyway. “What are you doing here?”