“The manager of the rental car company?”
I didn’t answer Gabe. I was busy tapping keys and reading my screen. I needed to find the contact information for the manager of Monterey Peninsula Rental Cars, MPRC. I scrolled through the screen and found a phone number. I picked up my cell phone and called. Five rings, then voicemail. I disconnected, and called again. Again, five rings, then voicemail. I could do this all night. I dialed again. This time someone picked up on the third ring.
A groggy voice sounded in my ear. “Yes?”
“Is this Roger Black?” I asked
Less groggy, but still not quite awake, “Yeah, this is Roger. Who is this?”
“My name is Charles Parks, I’m calling for the Gotcha Detective Agency, and —“
Roger interrupted, “Do you know what time it is? Isn’t this something that can wait until morning?”
“Mr. Black, I don’t appreciate being interrupted,” I said. “I’m calling you for the Gotcha Detective Agency because we need to track down one of your cars.”
“How did you get this number?” It sounded as if he’d sat up in bed, more awake now.
“That’s not the point, Mr. Black. The point is someone was kidnapped by a person using one of your cars. That person’s life is in danger. And I need you to tell me where that damn car is. Am I making myself clear?”
“Look, I don’t know what you think I can do for you. We have GPS on all of our cars, but the office doesn’t open until seven o’clock in the morning.”
“Seven o’clock? You think I’m going to wait until seven o’clock in the morning?”
“Well, it’s not like you’re going to break into the building.” Roger’s voice was now a bit testy.
“Here’s the deal, Mr. Black. The person who was kidnapped in this car will likely be murdered if we don’t find them soon. You’re going to meet us at your office in half an hour. Because if you don’t, you will be an accessory to murder.”
Gabe said, “You can’t say that.”
I covered the phone. “I’m not a cop. I can say whatever I want.”
Roger Black said, “Okay, I can meet you there.”
Fifteen
Mimi
Nick called my cell phone to tell me he had called ahead to the hospital, letting them know that the bus would be arriving at the emergency entrance. When we arrived, several nurses met us at the entrance and escorted the girls off the bus and into a private room. Normally, they would have been escorted to a reception area, or waited with other patients in the Emergency room, but a doctor had been brought in to examine them, and the staff was ready for them.
Nick and I sat in a waiting room, just like someone waiting for answers from the doctor after a life-saving surgery.
“I forgot to tell you, I was able to get their names, and hopefully good contact information from each of the girls while we were on the way here. I’m not sure if the drugs are wearing off, but their answers were more coherent than the ones I was able to get at the house.” I showed him the notes app on my phone, where I had entered the information.
“That was smart thinking, because I don’t know how much information the doctors and nurses are going to give us. You know, confidentiality and all that.”
“Even though this is an active investigation?”
“Even though. Medical services are the most difficult to get information from. It’s even more difficult after someone has died. We have to show a death certificate and prove that it is an active investigation in order to get medical records. I don’t see why they would share any information with us regarding these minors.”
A short, plump woman approached us. “Detective Christianson?”
Nick stood. “I’m Detective Nick Christianson.”
“I’m Julia Howard from DCS. I was told you were my contact person.”
Her brown hair was in a ponytail at the top of her head, and she wore no makeup. She looked like she’d just crawled out of bed, but at the same time, sort of put together.
“Can we talk?” She waved Nick down the hall as she walked away.
I guess I wasn’t supposed to be in on the conversation. I almost didn’t care. Who was I kidding? I cared. I was that nosy.
When Nick came back, he said, “She needs the contact information for the girls. I told her you have it.”
“Where is she?”
“She’ll be back. She has to do some paperwork for the hospital.”
After what seemed like hours, a nurse finally approached us. She was tall and thin, with short cropped hair and a kind smile. Her dark skin held a bit of rosiness at her cheeks. She reached out and touched me on the shoulder. “I can’t tell you how thankful I am that you rescued these girls. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
I wanted to tell her that I wasn’t the person to thank, that there was more to be done, and that we had another girl missing. I wanted to tell her so much, but I just said, “Thank you. Is there anything you can tell us?”
She played with a stethoscope around her neck, and I could tell she was uncomfortable. “You know we have the confidentiality problem. Not that it’s really a problem, but you understand.”
I nodded.
“I can tell you this. They drew blood and took rape kits on all of the girls. It was difficult, because I know they’ve been through a lot, but it had to be done. We ran drug panels on all of them, and are waiting for the results. But I can tell you three of the girls are pregnant, and all of them have some sort of STD. I can’t give you more information than that. I probably shouldn’t even be giving you that much information.”
I could feel something squeeze my heart when she told me what these girls had been through. “They’re all minors, but we need to talk to them. We need to see what information we can get so we can catch these bastards.”
The nurse looked at me, perplexed. “You didn’t find the people who did this?”
“No, we only found the girls, alone in the house. There’ll be people staking out the house to see if anyone comes back. At this point, they don’t know the girls are gone.”
In the time I had been waiting, I had written down the contact information and the girls' names on a piece of paper. I handed it to the nurse.
“What’s this?”
“It’s their contact information so you can call their parents. Someone is going to need to come and pick them up.”
She smiled and said, “Thank you. I’ll have one of the nurses get right on this.”
“That’s a problem. They can’t go home. We need to find the traffickers first. This is a sophisticated mob. They’ll come looking for those girls. We can’t send them back home. It’s likely they have their contact information. They’ve been known to show photos of family to the girls and tell them if they try to escape, their family members will be harmed.” Nick’s voice was low and determined. “Child Protective Services has to keep them.”
Julia approached from behind me and said, “I’m not sure what we can do with twelve girls. We won’t be able to keep them together. And once the drugs have worn off, they will want to go home.”
She was right; this wasn’t a cut and dried situation. I didn’t have any idea how this type of thing worked, but I knew they wouldn’t release them to an unapproved person. They sure weren’t going to just let me take the bunch of them. But I did have room for them at the Gotcha offices. The entire upstairs was like a home. We had three bedrooms and two bathrooms up there.
“Julia, what are the chances I could take them to my office with me? It’s a house. I could put them in the rooms upstairs. We have a full kitchen. I can keep an eye on them. When they’re more coherent, I can explain the situation. Maybe even call their contacts to let them know the girls are safe, but we need to keep them separated for their safety.”
Julia looked around, then leaned in. She whispered, “This is highly unusual. Then again, this is new to me. I’ve never had to deal with so many girls from so many families in one incident. Let me call
my boss and see what he says.”
“If he needs to talk to the police, or get verification on Mimi, have him call me.” Nick handed her his business card. “The bus is outside waiting, in case we needed to take the girls somewhere else.”
I looked at Nick. “I don’t have enough room for them to all sleep in beds. Maybe six at the most. It’s three queen beds.”
Julia said, “These aren’t big girls. They can probably fit at least three to a bed. I can see about getting some sleeping bags. At least this will work for tonight.”
I looked at Nick, wondering if I was doing the right thing. Could I handle a dozen girls in that house? Could I get them to stay if they didn’t want to be there? I couldn’t keep them from contacting their families, or could I?
“Am I doing the right thing?” I whispered to Nick.
Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s the right thing for now. Once the drug has worn off, and they have their faculties about them, things may change. But we’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
“I can’t contact my boss until morning, so I will sign the paperwork letting the hospital know that you will be taking custody of the girls for the time being. That won’t give you access to their medical records, but at least you’ll be able to keep them through the night.” Julia turned to walk away, then called back, “Good luck.”
We walked into the waiting room and ten of the twelve girls were sitting quietly, like little statues with their hands in their laps. The saggy clothes made them look homeless. I guessed, for now, they were homeless.
Yolanda was one of the girls sitting and waiting. I thought now would be a good chance to have a talk with her.
I pulled up a chair across from her and then put my hands out for her to put her hands in mine. Amazingly, she grabbed my hands. They were limp, but warm, and she didn’t flinch. She seemed terrified, but paralyzed.
“Yolanda, my name is Mimi. I know your friend, Alma.”
At this, I felt what could’ve been a flinch, but it was delayed.
Yolanda spoke quietly. “We were at a party. Dancing with Justin Bieber. He asked me out. Then Alma took my phone and change the music. Then we were in a fabric house. Ugly colors. Alma took the money from Justin Bieber’s dad.”
I tried really hard not to react to Yolanda’s gibberish. I concentrated on even breaths.
Yolanda sighed and looked around. “Mean Alma took my phone, my money and Justin Bieber left with her. And we had to dance anyway. Lots of dancing. I was so tired.”
Nothing she said made sense. I knew it had to be the drugs talking. I wondered exactly what drug they’d been given. I’d never had to deal with anything quite like this.
“I have your phone, Yolanda. We got it back from Justin Bieber. As soon as we get out of here, I’ll see what I can do to get it back to you.”
Yolanda had no reaction. She just stared at me, eyes wide. There was a terror going on inside this girl that she couldn’t express. There was something she knew that she couldn’t tell.
“I’m hungry,” she said.
I was hungry, too. It was something I hadn’t even thought of.
I walked over to Nick at the nurse’s station. “These girls haven’t eaten for hours. Heaven knows when they last had a real meal. What’s open 24 hours?”
Nick turned around to face me, and leaned against the counter. “It all depends. Do you want to cook them a real meal? Or do you want me to grab something from McDonald’s?”
At this point, I didn’t think it really mattered. They just needed to eat.
“Is Taco Bell open all night? Maybe Taco Bell would be better. Maybe some tacos and burritos with soda.”
“Let me see how much longer they’re going to be here. If it won’t be long, I’ll head to Taco Bell and see if they’re still open. I’ll grab a bunch of tacos and burritos, and meet you at the house.”
The nurse came back to let us know that all of the girls were free to go. Any test results would be given to the state, not to us. Nick and I lined the girls up once again and got them on the bus. Julia was nowhere to be seen by this time. I’m sure she just wanted to go home and get some sleep, because tomorrow was going to be a very busy day. I looked at my watch. Actually, it was already tomorrow. Today was going to be a very, very long day.
Sixteen
Charles
Roger had arrived at the rental car building before us. He had the door unlocked, the lights on, and was sitting at his desk.
Gabe and I walked in, and I asked, “You Roger?” Like he would be anyone else.
He stood and looked at us nervously. Gabe flashed his badge. I was thinking the two of us looked quite handsome and definitely athletic. Maybe he wanted us.
Gabe’s wedding ring would surely put him off that idea.
“I’m Gabe Garcia, homicide division out of Salinas. What do you have for us?”
Roger sat back down. And clicked a few keys on his computer. “I had to turn the GPS on for that car. We don’t normally keep it turned on; we just track after the fact. If I hadn’t had to do that, I wouldn’t have had to crawl out of bed and meet you here. You could’ve hacked into that, too.” He looked pointedly at me.
“What makes you think the computer was hacked?” I asked.
“There’s a recent log in.”
Crap, I’d have to be better about covering my tracks. I had been sloppy. But seriously, what made him think I was the one who hacked into the system? I didn’t change anything. I just looked around. Besides, it could’ve been Gabe who did it all. I looked at Gabe. Nope. He’d never be suspected as a hacker.
“What exactly do you have for us?” I asked.
He scribbled on a large sticky note. “It looks like the car has been sitting at this address for at least an hour. It looks like a neighborhood in Salinas.”
Gabe stepped forward and snatched the piece of paper from Roger. “Thank you. Keep your phone turned on, in case we need to get in contact with you again.”
“Can’t you just hack into the system if I leave it on so you can see if the car goes anywhere?” Roger’s comment was snide.
I walked up and stood right in front of his desk. “Better yet, you stay right here until you hear from us. That way, if we call, you can get us the information right away. Got it?”
Roger slunk back in his chair, and even rolled it a foot away from me. I think I made my point.
“Can I at least go get some coffee?”
“As long as you’re back here in fifteen minutes,” Gabe said.
Roger nodded. We walked out of the office, got in Gabe’s car, and headed back to Salinas. On the drive, Gabe asked me, “That Roger guy, he looks like that one guy from The Office.”
“He looks like some guy from your office?” I asked.
“No, from The Office. You know, the TV show. It’s not on anymore, but you know what I’m talking about, right?”
I’d heard of the show, but I never watched it, so if Roger looked like someone from that show, I would have no idea.
“I actually think he looks like that guy from Parks and Recreation personally.” I was just making it up, I’d never even seen Parks and Recreation.
“Yeah, he does kinda look like that guy. The boss, right?”
I didn’t even bother to answer, because I had no idea who the man looked like. I was just glad we were able to get a bead on the rental car, and hopefully find Cortnie. But I did see how this line of conversation was a good way to ease tension, and relax a little before a major confrontation.
“We’re going into a neighborhood, so we can’t go in guns blazing,” I said. “What plan of action is going through your mind?”
Gabe never took his eyes off the road, though I did see his hands grip the wheel a bit tighter before he answered my question. “For now, I say we sit on that house. Wait to see if anyone comes or goes, and keep an eye on the Volvo.”
“That’s not going to get us to Cortnie before they kill her.” Gabe’s laid-back idea irked
me.
“Like you said, we can’t go in guns blazing. Do we knock on the door at three o’clock in the morning and say hand her over?” Gabe snapped.
“No, but we can get a good look around. I doubt these people have dogs, so we can go around to the backside of the house, and see if any of the windows are open.”
“These are big-time criminals, Charles. Do you think they just leave the windows of a house open? Besides, it’s chilly outside, they'll probably have them closed.”
He was right. The temperatures had dipped, and the fog had rolled back in. There always seemed to be fog. But I hadn’t actually meant windows.
It was a rare occasion where I use the wrong word, so I corrected myself. “I meant, they should have the shades open so that we can see into the house. I wouldn’t expect them to have their windows wide open.”
Not much more was said until we turned off of Blanco Road and were a block away from the house on Andes. I figured his mind was working out a game plan, the same as mine. Hard to figure out the details while you’re talking. Unless you’re Mimi, because she had to work out aloud so everyone could hear her.
“I’m just going to drive up, park in front of the house, go up and knock on the front door,” Gabe said. “What’s the worst that can happen? I can act drunk and then surprised that someone other than my wife answered the loud banging.”
I didn’t know what was going through Gabe’s head. There was no way we were parking in front of the house and knocking on the door. It just wasn’t going to happen. By the time we turned onto Andes Drive, we had agreed to park directly across from the house and watch for a while. If they were going to kill Cortnie, they’d have done it by now. But Cortnie looked young, and if they could drug her with Special K, she would be a prime prostitute for them. I expected they would use her before they would kill her.
Trespassers Will Be Prostituted. Page 11