The Unremembered Girl: A Novel

Gus opened his mouth, then thought better of whatever answer he was about to give, reconsidering his words.

  “You say you’re not working with the traffickers, just looking out for the girl, so you must have had some reason for believing she’d be around here.”

  “Well, I been here before, see. When I was working with them in the past. This is one of their stops, they got a place over there in the marsh.”

  “Yeah, I got that part. But surely they have a lot of places you might have tried. What brings you here, to my door?”

  Gus stuttered. “I . . . I’m just . . . going down the line. This seemed as good a place as any, seeing how they like this spot so much. They got the local law on the payroll, so they usually stop here when they have a run, knowing they don’t have to worry.”

  “You know an awful lot about their operation for somebody who claims he’s not working with them.”

  “I was just guessing, friend.”

  Henry nodded, rubbing his thumb across the calluses on the other palm.

  “Uh-huh. I guess you expect me to take your word for that?”

  “You calling me a liar?”

  “Yeah, Gus. That’s exactly what I’m calling you.”

  Gus straightened his spine and started to sputter, but Henry’d had enough.

  He stood up and pulled the other man off his tailgate. Gus stumbled with the suddenness of the move combined with the effects of the rotgut whiskey.

  “You get on down this road now, or I’ll toss you in the back of this truck and drive you to the edge of town and dump you out.”

  “We had a deal!” Gus yelled. “I know you’ve got that girl. You think I’m just gonna listen to some jumped-up little shit tell me what to do?”

  “Yes,” Henry said. “Yes, I do. Because it’s in your best interests, Gus. And if there’s one thing I think you care about, it’s your best interests. You go, and you keep going. Forget everything you ever thought you knew about your niece and don’t ever come back here, or I swear to God, I’ll be hauling you out of here tied to the back of my truck next time.”

  “You don’t understand!” Gus said, pleading now. “They’ll find me. I have to get that girl back!”

  “Well, I’ll tell you, Gus, I don’t know what you expect me to do about that. I’ve never seen your girl before in my life.”

  “You’re a goddamn liar!” Gus shouted, losing his smarmy façade at last and pushing his way into Henry’s face. “I know she’s here. You got her in there, keeping her to yourself, I know it!”

  “What you know and don’t know is not my problem,” Henry said in a low voice, stepping into Gus’s outraged face with enough force to make the man stumble backward. “Now, I’m done talking to you. Get down the road, Gus, before I take you down it myself.”

  Gus made a visible effort to pull himself together, but Henry could see he was a seething cesspool of rage beneath that sloppily stitched-together mask of control.

  “All right, then,” Gus said, taking a deep breath. “I can see I’m not welcome, but I’m telling you now, I’m coming back for that girl. She’s mine, you hear me? Mine, and I mean to have her back.”

  “Yeah?” Henry asked. “Well, good luck with that. Friend.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Henry pushed through the door into the Sheriff’s Department riding a wave of anger he’d rarely known. His mood hadn’t been helped by the layer of panic that had overtaken him when he’d gone back into the house and found Eve missing.

  His pulse had picked up speed, but time had slowed as he’d searched every room and come up empty-handed. It wasn’t until he’d forced himself to stand still and listen to the heartbeat of the old house that he’d zeroed in on the closed door leading to the closet in the bedroom.

  There he’d found her, curled in on herself, rocking back and forth. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t making any sound at all. It was a mystery how he’d known to look there. But when he knelt in front of her and took her into his arms, she was shaking like a million tiny earthquakes were happening inside of her.

  “Del!” Henry now called across the expanse of the room, not caring that he was causing a scene. There was only Gladys to witness it, and she must have recognized the signs of a family argument looming, because she looked intently down at the computer screen in front of her and pretended not to notice.

  The door to Sheriff McKinney’s office was closed, as usual. He was most likely sleeping off a hangover from the night before. No sign of Brady.

  But it didn’t matter, because his brother was the one Henry was looking for.

  As Del looked up from the paperwork on his desk, Henry saw that he had bags under his eyes. If the situation had been different, he might have sympathized. He couldn’t imagine the stress of what Del and Alice were dealing with.

  But the situation wasn’t different.

  “You need to tell me what the hell’s going on with you, Del,” Henry said once he’d reached his brother’s desk.

  “What’s your problem, Henry?” Del sighed, leaning back in his chair like the last thing he wanted to deal with was another issue.

  “I think the real question is what’s your problem, brother.”

  “I don’t have time for games today.”

  “Yeah? I suggest you make time. Or do I need to slip you a little cash to get you to pay attention?”

  Del’s face froze, then settled into hard lines.

  “Excuse me?” he said slowly.

  “You heard me. Do I need to pay off Brady too? You in on this together, like you two do everything?”

  Del stood so quickly that the chair slid across the floor with a screech. He pushed his way into Henry’s face, but if he was expecting his younger brother to back down, he was mistaken. Chest to chest, the two stared at one another, each daring the other to back down first.

  “How much are they paying you to look the other way while they buy and sell human beings like cattle?” Henry spit out in a disgusted whisper.

  Del’s eyes widened. In that moment, Henry knew he wasn’t wrong. The surprise and guilt were written there on Del’s face. He recovered quickly, forcing his expression into a mask, but it was too late.

  “How long, Del? How long have you been on the take?” Henry asked. He’d never had any illusions about the sort of man his brother was. Del’s intelligence landed somewhere just below average, at best, and he had a short temper at times, but Henry would have never pegged him as crooked. He was surprisingly disappointed in him.

  Del grabbed Henry by the upper arm and looked around to see if anyone had overheard Henry’s damning words, but Gladys still had her head buried in her computer screen. Whether she’d been able to make out their heated conversation was anyone’s guess, but she was trying very hard to look like she was minding her own business.

  Henry wished he were in a position to do the same.

  “Come on,” Del said, nodding toward the door, then heading that way.

  Henry stayed where he was for a moment, watching his brother walk away from him. Del’s hair was starting to thin in the back. Henry had never noticed that before, and suddenly Del seemed very old. Ancient, in fact.

  Del turned to see why Henry wasn’t following him, then jerked his head impatiently.

  “You want to talk about this or not?” he said. “Gladys, I’m gonna buy my brother a cup of coffee at the diner. I’ve got my radio.”

  “Sure thing, Del,” Gladys said, busying herself with the files on her desk and giving the deputy an overly sunny smile.

  Knowing it was the only way to get answers, answers he needed to keep Eve safe, Henry sighed and followed his brother. He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear what Del had to say, but there was really no other way.

  The sun was blinding, and Del pulled on the aviator sunglasses that he’d favored since he was eleven and they’d watched Top Gun together. It was an affectation that Henry had always thought ridiculous, but that was Del. He wondered that he was surprised by any of this.<
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  “Get in the truck, Henry,” Del said, opening the driver’s door to the brown-and-white SUV with the bar of lights running across the top.

  They drove to the diner in silence. Del was either gathering his thoughts or debating ways to manipulate the truth. Either way, all Henry could do was wait.

  At a booth in the diner, Del ordered coffee. The waitress, a blonde named Becky whom Henry had gone to school with, smiled at him, showing off a deep dimple in her left cheek, but he took little notice.

  “Same for me, Becky. Thanks,” he murmured.

  Del picked at a fingernail, avoiding Henry’s eyes while they waited on Becky to bring two white mugs and pour the steaming black coffee.

  Once she was gone, Del couldn’t avoid the subject any longer. “You don’t understand what it’s like, Henry,” he said, shaking his head and avoiding his brother’s eyes.

  “Then why don’t you tell me.”

  Del sighed. “I don’t even want kids,” he said, leaning back in the booth and looking Henry in the face for the first time since they’d sat down. “You believe that? I mean, I don’t have anything against them, but I don’t know how to be a father. I mean, damn. Look at the example I have.”

  Henry raised an eyebrow at the whining tone in Del’s voice, but he kept his peace.

  “It’s Alice. She’s got it in her head, and once she’s set on something . . . shit. I just figure she’ll be a good enough mother to make up for it.”

  Del took a spoon and stirred his coffee, in spite of the fact that he took it black and it didn’t need to be stirred.

  “The IVF treatments. You’re taking money under the table to pay for the treatments,” Henry said.

  Del went on, like Henry hadn’t spoken. “She left me once, a few years back. You know that?” He looked up at Henry. “No, I guess you wouldn’t. She was only gone for two days. Went and stayed with her mom in Alabama.”

  That surprised Henry. No one had ever said. Del stared out the window at the street beyond.

  “Longest two damn days of my life. I walked around the house in my underwear, wandering from room to room, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do. Hell, if you’d have asked me before that if I loved my wife, I’d have shrugged. But somewhere along the line, Alice’s husband became the only thing I knew how to be.”

  Henry folded his arms. “Look, Del, it’s not that I don’t sympathize. But do you know what those people are doing?”

  Del shook his head and leaned over the table. “It’s not as bad as you make it sound, Henry. Those people, the ones they’re shuffling around, they’re looking for a better life. Mexico’s bad now, man. With the drug cartels and the poverty. All I’m doing is looking the other way, giving them a chance for something better here in the States.”

  Henry didn’t know who Del was trying to convince. Did he really believe that?

  “So, what? You think you’re being some sort of humanitarian? Eve is terrified of these people, Del!”

  “And she’s right to be! She attacked Marcus with a knife! Why do you think I was so against Caroline taking that girl in in the first place?”

  “Marcus? Are you kidding me right now? You’re on a first-name basis with these pieces of shit?”

  “It’s not like that, Henry,” Del said.

  “Let me tell you what it’s like,” Henry said. “It’s women and children. Women and children held prisoner by armed men who treat them like cattle.”

  The look on Eve’s face when she’d broken down and told Henry what it was like to be pulled from one hell and thrust into another was one he couldn’t erase. She’d described the cries of the babies, clinging to their mothers. The girls, no more than children themselves, who’d huddled together in fear as they’d been herded from the backs of darkened trucks to the insides of darkened rooms.

  And the men with the guns. The ones who’d taken what they wanted when the mood struck.

  Trying and failing to tamp down the rage that seethed inside at Eve’s words and the images they’d left behind, Henry wondered if Del was really that much of a fool. If he really believed that these people were going to be delivered to some sort of American promised land, then left to live happily ever after, or if he knew, deep down, as Henry did, that there was no such thing as happily ever after.

  “Why do you think that is, Del? Why no men?”

  Del’s face was troubled, and Henry watched him struggle with the truth. The truth that must have been there all along, if only Del had been strong enough to look it in the eye.

  “I don’t know, man. Maybe the men are here already. And they’re bringing their families across the border to be with them?”

  “You think so? All of them?”

  Del shook his head, anger stepping in to disguise the truth he didn’t want to face. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying it’s a lot more likely, a lot more realistic, given the circumstances, that these women are being sold at the other end of this life-changing journey. These men, these buddies of yours, are preying on women and children in the worst way possible.”

  Del sputtered and a flush crept up his neck. “You can’t know that, Henry. You’re assuming the worst, and there’s no reason to believe . . .”

  “No? Don’t be stupid, Del. Eve finally talked, and what she had to say was horrifying. They weren’t treated like people. They were treated like goods. And not high-end goods. They were used, Del. Abused in ways I can’t even begin to explain.”

  “Are you saying Eve . . . ?”

  “Did your friend Marcus tell you why Eve came at him?” Henry searched his brother’s face. He could see Del struggling to swallow what Henry was shoving down his throat.

  “Marcus apparently liked to sample the goods,” Henry said, his voice low, hitting on every word like a drum, beating it to a tempo Del couldn’t ignore. Not anymore.

  “And Marcus preferred them young. Not Eve. A girl, Del, a girl that couldn’t have been older than eight or nine.”

  He didn’t tell his brother about the way Eve’s eyes had burned when she’d described the scene to him, or the stony hatred in her voice when she’d spit out the words. He didn’t tell him how, when Eve had been forced to witness the unspeakable acts perpetrated on a child, while the others covered their eyes and turned their heads away, Eve couldn’t. He didn’t say to Del that while watching this child be raped in the most brutal of ways, Eve had felt every blow, every unwanted touch, had swallowed every scream that the little girl had given. Because that little girl, she was Eve, in every way that mattered. And Eve was her.

  “And do you know what he said, before a girl with no name attacked him with a stolen knife, hidden in the folds of her dirty clothes? He told her, he told them all, ‘Get used to it. Consider it practice, because where you’re going, there’ll be a lot more of this. No point being shy about it.’”

  Del’s face had gone slack and pale, and Henry hoped he felt as sick as Henry felt inside. He deserved to.

  “And you. You’re protecting monsters for cash. How do you think Alice would feel about that, Del?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Jonah sucked on a lemon drop. Aunt Helen wasn’t with him today, and that was fine. He was just coming into town for candy. He usually came alone when she didn’t need supplies. She’d told him to keep an eye out for Mr. Doucet, the loud man who lived with Henry, and he tried to do as she asked, when he remembered.

  He hadn’t remembered at first, but when he saw Mr. Doucet in the street, it reminded him, so Jonah was watching him, just like he’d been asked.

  Jonah didn’t know how long he was supposed to watch him, but he didn’t mind.

  Jonah thought maybe the man needed a friend. And just as he was thinking so, there came a man to speak with Mr. Doucet. It was a man that Jonah didn’t recognize, but he thought maybe they could be friends, seeing how no one else wanted to be friends with Mr. Doucet.

  The lemon drop was tart and sweet, and Jonah thought about getting
out another one, since this one was almost gone, but he didn’t want to waste them, so he sucked on the sliver and he watched the two men, hoping they’d make friends.

  At first, he thought that might be just what would happen, since Mr. Doucet got real quiet, listening to the man, who looked friendly even though he was missing a couple of fingers on his hand. Maybe Mr. Doucet would stop yelling at people in town if he had someone to talk to. Aunt Helen would be happy about that.

  But then, as Jonah watched, Mr. Doucet started getting real mad, yelling again, pushing the man.

  “Sinners, the lot of you! Infecting our town and paving the way for the devil, you are! Be gone with you, and don’t come back here, or the might of the Lord will smite you down, it will!”

  Jonah shook his head. That was no way to treat a friend. Then Mr. Doucet shoved the man hard in the chest, and he stumbled backward. The stranger spoke again, low so Jonah couldn’t make out the words, but he’d lost the friendly look on his face.

  “Be gone, I said to you! The Lord didn’t suffer snakes in his midst, and neither will I,” Mr. Doucet screamed in the man’s face.

  The newcomer glanced around to see if anyone was paying any attention, then whispered words again that made Mr. Doucet even angrier than before. Jonah had to wonder that the man needed a friend even more than Mr. Doucet did, if he was willing to stand and take such words in his face and still press on. Jonah might have told him he was fighting a losing battle, something his aunt liked to say, if he’d bothered to ask him, but most times, people didn’t bother to ask Jonah what he thought. And that was fine too.

  But even Jonah was shocked, sucking the lemon drop into the back of his throat on a gasp, when Mr. Doucet raised a hand and struck the man, open palmed, across the face. He’d hit him hard enough that the man with three fingers on one of his hands nearly fell to the ground.

  And when he looked up, holding a hand to his cheek, there was a dark, hating look on his face. Most of the folks Jonah knew wouldn’t take a slap like that without giving back better than they’d got, but the man didn’t raise a hand. Only hissed words at Mr. Doucet that made Jonah think of a wizard in the movies, casting a spell to do bad things to folks.