At some point, she’d known this would happen. Was it her gift telling her that? Ever since it had failed her with Ben—had it failed her?—she wasn’t sure what to trust with its periodic surges and vibrations. Was her mind forcing her so-called gift to behave in the way she hoped things would be?
Why else would she feel terrified women in the car of a man who’s every action so far was to take care of people, to fix them, to help them?
Thank God Jack wasn’t here tonight. She was sorry now that they’d parted on such cold terms. Her fault. Again. She was childishly angry with him for doing what he thought was the right thing.
Especially considering he clearly hated himself enough for the both of them.
She picked up her phone to text him and sent the message: Not feeling great. Going to bed early. See you later, N. She hit Send and then sat down and wrote the real note. The one he’d find when he came in later tonight.
The one that would say she felt better and was spending the night out with a friend. He wouldn’t like it, but by then, she’d be long gone.
And then Mia did what she was sure every one of those poor women cowering and weeping and hurting tonight—far from home and loved ones—had done. She gave her appearance one last final look in the mirror and left her home.
She drove to a quiet residential street several blocks from Memorial Drive. East Atlanta wasn’t that different from West Atlanta, Mia thought. At least not to a clueless white girl raised in North Atlanta. It was a poor neighborhood, largely African-American. As she parked her car she knew there was a definite possibility she’d come back to the car stripped down to its nonessential parts, but it couldn’t be helped.
She pocketed her car key and a twenty-dollar bill. It was a lucky break that it was so cold tonight. She could wear her Glock in its shoulder strap beneath her wool pullover and over Jack’s shirt and no one would suspect. She thought of Jack as she walked to the main street. Even though the shirt had been laundered and there was no scent of him it gave her the strength that was the essence of Jack. The feel of him was emanating off her in waves of energy that felt like love.
What a strange thing to think now of all times, she chided herself. She touched the handle of her gun under her sweater for reassurance. Jack couldn’t do this with her, she reasoned. If there was any chance of finding where the trafficking ring was finding its victims she had to do it alone.
Her rain jacket had a hood on it that helped shield her white face from the line of streetwalkers and drug dealers lounging on the first corner she came to. They didn’t scare her or worry her. The prostitutes only cared about johns—or if she were trying to turn tricks on their turf. One look at her in her bedraggled state would reassure them on that score. The dealers only cared about customers or undercover agents.
Check.
It was late and it needed to be. Mia looked up and down Memorial Drive. It wouldn’t do to get picked up by the cops and she knew her furtive glances only added to her cover. She also knew it was possible that tonight was only the first of many nights she would have to wander this dangerous street in the dark. Because if she didn’t find Taneka’s pimp or Lorna’s pimp or Maria’s pimp or somebody’s pimp tonight, she’d have to come back tomorrow night or the next night or the next or the next.
The street was highly trafficked, even at this time of night. Mia tried to think like a runaway. She had her story all ready. She was married and running away from her abusive husband. It would explain her age. She’d read that selling a white woman often commanded more money. She’d have to hope her age stacked up against that.
She decided to walk the length of the street slowly. If someone tried to mug her, she could give up her money. If they tried something more, she had her gun. She tried to calm her frantic thoughts but her heart was fluttering like a bird trapped in a cage. Everyone here wanted to hurt her in some way. She reminded herself that Lorna and Taneka had both been in here, feeling what she was feeling, and they were much younger and more vulnerable.
And unarmed.
She took a long breath and walked past the suspicious stares of the drug dealers and ignored the catcalls of the irate sex workers. She kept her face down and walked on. When she reached the apex of the street, she turned to retrace her steps. Her plan was to sit on a cornerstone until morning and then drive home to her comfortable bed, her three hundred thread count sheets, and her espresso machine. The thought nearly made her want to weep. That this terrible, dirty, desperate world could live so close to her own was nearly unimaginable.
When she returned to the other end of the street, she noticed that some of the prostitutes had gone. Either they’d left with johns or given up for the night. She was surprised anyone was selling their wares on this street. Most of the people on it looked strung out and poor. She walked past the opening of a convenience store, its windows fortified from ceiling to floor with iron bars. A tall Indian man stood at the counter and watched her as she trudged past. He looked like he was in a jail.
The place she’d chosen to sit was not in the middle of the action but not far from it either. It took every ounce of her commitment not to hurry down the side street that would take her to what was left of her car and drive home. She had to put Lorna’s picture in her mind and another of what she imagined Maria might look like. She forced herself to think of how she’d feel if she found Lorna tonight. That thought galvanized her and when she squatted down, her back to the ancient stonewall of a closed used clothing store, she felt almost calm.
With no wristwatch and her cell phone turned off, she had no idea of how long she squatted there, waiting and watching. Every once in awhile, she would stretch her legs or move about to try to warm up, but the wall to her back gave her some comfort. She found she could understand how homeless people got attached to a corner of a vacant lot or a dirty sidewalk. Her spot felt safe to her.
And she well knew that was a lie.
When the girl approached her, Mia had her shoulders sunk into her coat and her forehead on her knees. As the hours passed, she gotten so used to nobody stopping or noticing her that she started abruptly when the girl squatted next to her.
“Hey, you okay?” the girl asked her.
She looked to be about sixteen but, because of the makeup, Mia knew she could be considerably younger. Her face was clear, her eyes bright and friendly. She wore a wool rag cap pulled down low over her ears and her hands were in gloves with the fingers cut out. For a moment, Mia thought the girl could pass as a model for a trendy clothes company.
Except she was out on Memorial Drive in the middle of the night.
“Oh, hey,” Mia said.
“Are you lost?”
Mia shook her head. “I’ve left my husband,” she said. “Only I’m not really sure where to go. My family is all up north.”
“Oh. It’s hard having no family when bad shit happens. Trust me, I know. My name’s Orlinda.”
“Leanne.”
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks. I don’t suppose you know a place where I might stay tonight, do you, Orlinda? I don’t have any money. Well, twenty dollars is all.”
“Keep your money, Leanne. I’m gonna help you out. I gotta place you can stay.”
Both women stood up.
“I can’t thank you enough, Orlinda,”
This is it! She’s going to take me back to her pimp!
“Well, my boyfriend lives there too but he’s cool. Do you trust me, Leanne?”
“I do. And I’m grateful to you. I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t come along.”
“Well, this here’s a scary street. You don’t want to be out here all night. You fall asleep on that corner? You like to wake up with your throat cut. You know?”
Mia shivered and it wasn’t an act.
“Come on, Leanne. Let’s get you warm and inside for the night. You gonna love my boyfriend. And in the morning, he gonna buy us breakfast. You like waffles, Leanne?”
“Very
much,” Mia said, walking with the girl further down the street. They were leaving the more congested area and it occurred to Mia that if Orlinda had a mind to cut her throat herself, this would be a good place to do it.
“See that van there?” Orlinda said, pointing. “The white one parked on the sidewalk?”
Mia nodded. It was large with no windows. It didn’t look old. Her stomach started to lurch with every step and she reminded herself, I’ve got a gun if things go south.
“That my boyfriend’s van. He gonna take you and me back to our place. You hungry right now, Leanne? I make you some scrambled eggs when we get home. Ain’t no shitty husband gonna bother you anymore.”
Mia walked with Orlinda to the side of the van. She couldn’t help look around to see if there was anyone who might witness her being dragged inside the vehicle but there was no one. Orlinda tapped on the side of the van and they waited only a moment before the doors swung slowly open.
Mia could tell a man was standing in the opening and that he was big. But it wasn’t until he reached over and snapped on the overhead light that she saw that he was grinning wolfishly.
And that it was Ben.
15
The note he held in his hand read: Jack, Feeling much better. Opted to go out with a friend. May not come home tonight so don’t worry about me. Love, N.
Jack looked at his watch. It was nearly two a.m. He looked back at the note.
No way. No way she’s doing this after everything that’s happened.
No effing way.
He turned, nearly tripping over his food transport cart that he’d parked in the foyer, caught himself and walked down the hall to her bedroom. He snapped on the light.
Everything tidy, bed made. He walked to the dresser and noticed her khakis were on the floor. Changed out of her casual clothes. He went to her closet and slid open the pocket door. Most of Mia’s wardrobe was in muted colors of sand and gray. There was no way he’d be able to tell what she had changed into. He returned to the living room, pulling his cell phone out as he went.
His first call went to Mia and straight to voice mail. He quickly found a search engine and typed in: Shakerag Stables. Within seconds, he was dialing the number of the onsite barn manager.
Okay, I’m probably crazy. And yes, I’m going to have major apologizing to do in the morning. That’s a given.
But I can’t help it.
A sleepy voice answered him on the tenth ring. “Hello?”
“Yes, I’m the husband of one of your boarders,” he said briskly into the phone. “My wife tells me that another boarder’s horse is in the east pasture rolling in barbwire.”
“What?”
Jack heard the woman wake up in a hurry.
“Barbwire,” Jack repeated. “I’m heading out that way myself to make sure our horse is okay and I’d like to call the owner of the other horse.”
In Jack’s experience, managers were happy to have someone else do anything if it meant they didn’t have to do it themselves—especially at two in the morning on a cold night in January.
“I didn’t think we had barbwire,” she said. “What…what horse is it?”
Shit. He had no idea what the guy’s horse looked like. “My wife said the horse belongs to a Ned someone.”
“Oh, the new guy. Ned…I don’t remember his last name.”
“I just need his phone number.”
“Oh, hold on.”
Jack took in a long breath and tried to calm himself. It was just jealousy. Even he could see that. Does it make sense that I want to beat the shit out of this guy when I never really made my intentions known to Mia before? He already had an image firmly in place of Mia’s shocked and furious face when Jack interrupted what was likely to be the night she planned on losing her virginity.
I really am losing my effing mind.
“You there?”
“Of course.”
Seconds later, he was dialing Ned’s number and hoping he wasn’t too late.
Another muffled, sleepy voice.
Not a good sign.
“Yeah?”
“Is this Ned?”
“Who’s this?”
“Is Mia there?”
“Who?”
Dear God, has he forgotten her name already? Maybe Mia will thank him after all.
“Mia Kazmaroff. Is she there with you?”
“Oh, man…”
Jack heard what, unbelievably, sounded like a laugh.
“This has got to be Jack. Am I right?”
“I…how do you…? Never mind. Let me speak to Mia.”
“Jack, Mia isn’t here. What made you think she was?”
“She…you’re the guy at the barn.”
The laugh again. But friendly, not mean. “I am the guy at the barn but I’m not Mia’s guy.”
“Her new boyfriend doesn’t ride at the barn?” This doesn’t make sense. She got all sexy and mysterious the other day when the call came through from Ned with the picture of him showing up on her cellphone—six foot six and wearing a cowboy hat.
“No, man. Mia’s new boyfriend—if he is her boyfriend—is the dude at Grady. The nurse. And no, I don’t have his number. Ben something.”
What a fool he’d been! Mia had mentioned the nurse several times. But because Jack was so fixated on the studly cowboy at the barn—the guy who shared Mia’s love of horses—he’d passed right over the idea of the male nurse.
Looked like he was going to be calling Grady Hospital next.
*****
Senor gave her a small smile and a wave and Maria smiled back. Yesterday or maybe the day before, she would have been delirious with joy to have him notice her like that. Today, she was glad he was pleased with her but she didn’t have the energy to do more than smile at him.
She decided that that was really better. Her back ached and she didn’t remember how she had hurt it. She had a sore on her foot too. It might have been a rat bite. That’s what little Imelda said it was.
There was talk among the girls that they would be leaving soon. Someone heard someone talking and someone said they had to leave this house. Maria wondered where they would be taken from here?
She sat with her hands wrapped around a hot cup of coffee that one of the other women had made for her.
In some ways, she thought dreamily, it’s like we are a family. We look out for one another. We love one another.
She looked around the kitchen but Senor had gone.
*****
So it isn’t the guy at the barn after all.
Jack took a moment to try to calm down and think clearly. Why was he acting like a jealous husband? He’d never even told her how he felt. Why was this so difficult? We live together. You’d think he might be able to mention it over breakfast sometime: Oh by the way, Mia, I know I’m not supposed to mention it but I’m totally hard for you all the time. He slumped back onto the couch.
Yeah, he probably needed to work on his approach.
It occurred to him he didn’t really have the right to call her on her date—or try to disrupt it. If he were a decent person on any level he’d respect her right to see people and just let her live her life.
When was he going to be off the hook with this ridiculous promise to her mother?
He reached for the phone to call Grady. Before he finished punching in the number, it rang showing an incoming call. The screen said Liz Magnuson was calling.
He answered. “Kinda late to be making business calls, isn’t it?”
“Rape and slavery know no time tables,” she responded crisply. “I’m working late. This call is the least important one of my day so it got shoved to last.”
“But obviously it’s important enough to wake someone up for.”
“Not at all. I assumed my call would go to voice mail. I only need to deliver a message to Mia but her phone is turned off and I need to check this item off my list so I’m calling you.”
“I got a recording yesterday that said your phone
was disconnected.”
“That happens from time to time. Frankly, I think my cable company is working with the city to drive me out. Can you give the message to Mia? It’s ridiculous but the girl, Taneka, was in tears begging me to retract her earlier message.”
“Sure. By the way, you wouldn’t happen to have Trey’s phone number, would you?”
“I assume there’s a reason he didn’t give it to you. Trey hasn’t been in for several days now. Unpaid intern or not, I’ll probably fire him when I see him. I knew he wasn’t really committed.”
“You haven’t seen him in several days?”
“Isn’t that what I just said? Will you please deliver the message to Mia to ignore the last message from Taneka and I’ll—”
“What was the original message?”
“Now, if I told you that it would defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it, Mr. Burton?”
“Remind me, again, Ms. Magnuson, whose side you’re on?”
She paused. “Look, I can’t remember what it was exactly. It was some kind of a riddle. I sent it to Mia in an email. Now. May I hang up, please? Some of us have work to do.”
A moment later, Jack was on the couch staring at the email message on Mia’s laptop.
“It may be a memorial to some but to me and your friend it’s the drive to hell.”
Was the friend Maria? What memorial is she talking about? He wracked his brain to think of any known memorials in Atlanta. Could she mean Underground? He checked his smartphone for anything “some might consider a memorial” in Atlanta. There was the Martin Luther King Jr. National Historic Site on Auburn Avenue. Was she telling Mia something about Auburn Avenue? Auburn, Alabama?
It didn’t matter. He could figure it out later. Tonight, he needed to find Mia. He called Grady Hospital and asked the ward secretary who answered if he could have the contact information for the nice male nurse on nights named Ben who’d taken care of him. He wanted to send him some candy.
“You can talk to him yourself, he’s right here. Hold on, I’ll transfer you to the break room.”
Complete Mia Kazmaroff Romantic Suspense Series, 1-4 Page 34