“Uh, I’m with Jack. We’re at Coco’s on Lakewood. We just came from the house we believe Ivana ran from before she jumped in the river.”
“Lakewood? I heard that call on the scanner. It went crazy when the deputy put out that shots-fired call. Is this related to your mom?”
“Yeah, we’d hoped to find her at the house. . . . No such luck.” Brinna rubbed her temple with the index finger on her injured hand, the dull ache there and in her wrist seemingly permanent.
“You need to bring me up to speed. I’ve been out of the loop.”
“Want to join us? We haven’t gone in and ordered yet.”
“Sure, I’d like that. I’ll be there in twenty.”
Brinna took a deep, cleansing breath and closed the phone. At least one part of her personal life had realigned itself.
“Good news?” Jack asked, jolting her back to the most jagged part of her life.
“Yeah, Maggie doesn’t hate me. She’s had time to cool down and she’s going to join us. Do you mind?”
“Not at all. Like I said before, what happened to Rick was not your fault.” He reached across the car and tugged on her sleeve. “Rick made up his own mind to go into the water.”
“I don’t know.” Brinna shook her head and looked away. “My falling in might have pulled him in as well. If we hadn’t been attached by that leash, I probably would have been the only one in the water.”
“This is all second-guessing. If I remember right, you told me that your mentor had a word for second-guessing scenarios you can’t change and for second-guessers.”
Brinna leaned back and frowned at Jack, who lifted an eyebrow and regarded her with an amused expression.
“I told you that, did I?”
“Yep. Come on now; how did Milo put it?”
In spite of everything, Brinna felt a smile tug at her lips. “He used to say that second-guessing was donkey dung and the second-guessers the donkeys. And I cleaned that up a lot.”
“Right. I never met the man, but I agree with him today. Now, how about we go have a seat and order some coffee while we wait for Maggie?”
“Good idea.” Brinna felt her mood lift somewhat. Being reminded of Milo was a good thing. Though accepting his death had been painful, enough time had passed and now memories of him made her feel warm and happy. He never would have wallowed in unproductive second-guessing. “Onward and forward,” he would have said. “Just catch the bad guys.”
But thinking of Milo also brought her mother to mind. And her mother’s faith. Milo had spoken with Rose at length about her faith, and the fact that Milo had come to accept it was what had caused Brinna to relax and let go of the irritation her mother’s beliefs seemed to engender.
My mother’s faith, Brinna thought as she and Jack took a seat in the restaurant. Where does it fit into all of this? It will keep her strong. She’ll not fall apart and do anything stupid; I’m sure of it. Comforted by this, Brinna watched Jack as he yawned and stretched, and she knew he was the right person to be with when the conversation turned to faith.
The waitress arrived with coffee, pouring two cups and leaving a carafe. As the aroma wafted across the table, Brinna realized that in spite of the turmoil she felt, she was starved. Some food would probably even ease her headache.
“I have a question for you,” Brinna said to Jack, after taking a long sip of hot coffee. She fixed a thoughtful gaze on him. “Here we are in another situation where the innocent are suffering at the hands of the evil. I want to believe God is good, and sometimes I think I’m almost there, but how can faith explain what has happened to my mom?”
“Just because bad things happen doesn’t mean God isn’t good.”
Brinna bit her bottom lip. “I don’t understand that. I can get behind evil people being jerked around, but why good people? My mom is truly good—she believes in God—so why would he let this happen to her?” She held her hands out, palms up. Her frustration with this old dilemma bubbled up like heartburn. She’d asked this question her whole life in terms of missing kids. Why were some kids saved and safe while others were brutally murdered? No child could ever be said to deserve that kind of treatment.
“I can’t tell you why. All I can tell you is what the Bible says. No one is good. Everyone is considered a sinner in the eyes of God, and everyone is equal in his sight.”
“Then how can anyone win? What is the point of having this great faith in God if you’re still going to get smacked by something awful?”
“Brinna, God made man, but man made the society we live in.” Jack’s tone held such a firm confidence that Brinna gave him her undivided attention. “Evil is here to stay because man rejects God. You have to understand that God wants people to believe in him in spite of what’s wrong in the world, not because of it. If he intervened—stopped things from happening or made people puppets—man would not have a free will. God recognizes that some will always reject him. He doesn’t force anyone to believe or to be good.”
“I’ve heard that from my mom so many times.” Brinna leaned back in the booth and closed her eyes. “You have to believe of your own free will.” She punctuated each word with her index finger, then opened her eyes and brought her head forward. “But if belief doesn’t save you from calamity, what does it do for you? What’s the point?”
“The point is, we can have peace in this world, no matter what our circumstances.”
Brinna refilled her coffee cup. Peace no matter what the circumstances. “You think my mom has peace right now?”
Jack didn’t look away. “I think your mom trusts God, and I think she will continue to trust, no matter what.”
No matter what. Brinna ran her finger around the rim of her coffee cup, suddenly very tired. She knew Jack was right. God was the firm center of her mother’s life.
“Will God come through for my mom?” Brinna held Jack’s gaze.
“Of course he will.” He rubbed the stubble on his chin. “But it might not be in a way you consider to be ‘perfect.’”
“Figures. Nothing ever seems to work out perfectly.” She glanced away for a moment, seeing Maggie heading to their table. “Here’s Maggie.”
The sight of her friend gave Brinna a jolt of adrenaline. She stood and embraced Maggie. “About time.”
“Hey, I broke the land speed record getting here.” Maggie’s smile was warm, and Brinna felt that warmth to her core. It was good to have her friend back.
“Now,” Maggie said as she sat, “why don’t you guys fill me in on this human trafficking thing. I was happy to help Rick out as babysitter, but right now I need to be a cop again.”
“I can relate to that,” Brinna agreed.
Faith talk and God lingered in Brinna’s mind as she launched into a narrative of the latest waking nightmare for Maggie’s benefit. She’d always believed that work was the best place to be when the world seemed to tilt off its axis, but that was changing—it had changed, she was sure. She wanted the peaceful, sure faith of Jack and her mother. Here, with Jack, and with her mother in peril, she finally believed she’d get there.
50
“DEMITRI?” Anton’s face turned red with rage. “That coward! All he knows how to do is exploit and use people.” He banged one end of his cane into his palm as if it were a club. “He will pay for this, I promise.”
Magda’s fear for herself morphed into fear for Anton. She’d cried until she thought for sure every ounce of moisture had left her body as she’d told him about all the evil she’d let happen through the years. He’d listened, pacing the room, features stiffening with each detail she shared. Now this thought flashed through her mind: What if he tries to confront Demitri?
“He’s a dangerous man—”
“He’s an animal, a rabid animal who must be put down.” He started for the door, and Magda leaped from her chair to grab his arm.
“What will you do? You can’t stop him on your own; he’ll kill you!”
Anton took her arm from his, then gripp
ed her right shoulder tight, left hand white as he leaned on his cane. His eyes were angry and pained. “I need to think. I need to pray. I will be on the porch for a moment. Leave me alone right now.” He released her and turned to leave.
Magda felt a real pain pierce her through as she watched him disappear through the front door.
“Oh, God,” she cried, “God, I’m not a good person like Anton, and I don’t deserve anything, but if he leaves me, I will die. I will die.” Her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the couch, tears springing from what she thought was a dry well. As she sobbed, alone and frightened, she vaguely realized that now that the horrible truth was out, she felt a modicum of relief. There were no secrets to keep anymore. If Anton would only forgive her, they could start life anew. She continued to cry out to the God she’d only given passing attention to until now.
After a while, Magda’s tears ended. She got up from the couch and resisted the urge to open the front door to be certain Anton was still there. She went to the bathroom and washed her face, then returned to sit in her favorite chair in the living room to wait.
It was forty minutes before the front door opened. Anton entered and Magda forced herself to stay seated and not jump up and throw herself into his arms. She needed to know what decision he’d come to without her input. His face looked calm, peaceful, and she knew him well enough to see that he’d wrestled his anger away. He was in control as far as Demitri went, and some of the fear in her gut dissipated. But where was he in regard to her?
“Magda,” he said, approaching her chair, “I wish you had told me all of this sooner, but I understand your fear. I knew something was wrong and have prayed that you would finally see your way free to tell me what it was.”
“Oh, my love, I was so afraid.” She stood, and he gathered her into him, kissing the top of her head and then resting his cheek there.
“I know that now. I had feared Demitri was making you smuggle drugs; never did I imagine he trafficked people.”
“Oh, Anton, do you hate me? I’ve let this go on—”
He stopped her with a kiss. “No, I could never hate you. My heart breaks because you have been as much a victim in this as those girls. Demitri is the evil one behind this.”
“He beat you because of me.”
“I survived.” There was no anger in his eyes, only love.
“I may go to jail because of all I’ve let happen.”
“You will survive because I will be with you no matter what.” He gripped both of her hands in his strong one.
“How can you forgive me? How can you still love me?” She stared into his eyes, almost not believing the depth of love she saw there.
“Because, my love, I have been forgiven much. And I know that the one who forgave me demands I forgive you. But again, I truly believe you are the victim. We must go to the police immediately and tell them everything.”
“I know this is true, but I am so frightened. Demitri is powerful and evil. He has people everywhere. I fear for all of us.”
“There will be nothing to fear once the police know everything. It is time to trust them to stop Demitri and see that he is punished. God is in control. He will protect us.”
“You’ll go with me to the police?”
“I’ll go with you. I will never leave you. I love you.”
51
“BULGARIAN MAFIA?” Maggie asked after Jack and Brinna finished bringing her up to date on current events. She shook her head. “Here in Long Beach? Sounds like a bad movie.”
“The worst movie,” Brinna agreed.
“Have they made any demands? Ransom, anything?”
Jack and Brinna exchanged glances. “We’re not sure what they want,” Brinna said. She drained her third cup of coffee and frowned at Jack. “What if they do present demands, ask for ransom or something else?”
“I think we’d have heard from them by now if that were the case,” Jack offered.
Brinna couldn’t stifle a yawn. “You’re probably right. I’m so tired right now I can barely think straight.” She leaned back and closed her eyes while Maggie and Jack discussed events. Even the abundant caffeine couldn’t halt the inevitable energy depletion crash.
When she opened her eyes again and checked her watch, she saw it was almost one in the afternoon. Her body now felt the consequences of lack of sleep, and she fought the fogginess that descended on her brain like sludge. Jack looked just as tired as Brinna felt. Only Maggie looked fresh.
“If they know that we know about them, what advantage would it be for them to hurt Ivana or Rose?” Maggie asked Jack.
“Why did they take them in the first place if it wasn’t to hurt them, or at least hurt Ivana?” Brinna said before Jack could answer. “Everything I’ve ever heard about organized crime is that they kill people to send messages or make a point.”
Jack drummed on the table with his fingers. “They were after Ivana. She was their captive and she ran away, so it’s obvious why they took her. They wanted her back. Rose might have just gotten in the way. I can’t see any upside for them to hurt her.”
“Knowing my mom, I’m sure that she got in the way,” Brinna said ruefully. “But what if she saw something she wasn’t supposed to see?” Suddenly her throat clogged.
Maggie reached out and put a hand on Brinna’s forearm. “If that were so, wouldn’t they have just killed her and Ivana at the house? It’s probably a good sign they were abducted—a sign they are still alive and needed for something. Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe they do want money, and we’ll eventually get a ransom demand.”
“Could be. I would never rule ransom out,” Jack agreed. “They might realize now that their operation has been exposed, and they’ll want to use Ivana and Rose as leverage. If that’s the case, negotiation could free them both.”
Brinna toyed with her coffee mug. “I must be tired. That thought never occurred to me. That’s a hopeful idea. We have some great hostage negotiators at the PD.”
“Remember—” Maggie raised an eyebrow—“the glass is half-full.”
Jack’s cell phone rang. He answered it, and from the conversation, Brinna gathered he was talking to Ben. After a few minutes he hung up. “Well, all the girls we found at the house have been reinterviewed, but they still couldn’t give us anything helpful. Chuck is digging through public records, trying to determine who owns the house and the van. Hopefully something will lead to a corporation or a man—or anything pointing to the place Ivana and Rose are being held.”
He put his hand over Brinna’s. “I think we both need to get some rest. I’m dead tired, and you must be too.”
“I’ll take the Crusader home,” Maggie offered, looking from Jack to Brinna. “You can sleep, and I’ll raid your fridge, make a mess, and listen for the phone.”
Brinna couldn’t suppress a grin. It was good to have Maggie back in this dark period of her life. “Okay, I can live with that. Besides, Hero needs some exercise. And—” she pointed out the window—“no rain. He might come in handy if we need a search.”
Jack threw some money down on the table. “I’m glad we’re in agreement. There are a lot of people on this.” He held Brinna’s gaze. “As corny as it sounds, there really is no place for the bad guys to hide.”
Brinna nodded. “I’m sure my mom is praying right now. No time like the present for me to try and join in. Hope I can pray the right way.” She caught Jack’s eye and hoped the comment didn’t sound flippant.
Her mom would cling to prayers and so would Jack. Maybe I should as well. For Brinna, at this moment in time, she’d cling to anything that would bring her mom home.
52
MAGDA’S CELL PHONE rang as she and Anton were preparing to leave the house. It was Anton’s idea to go directly to the police station and report what they knew.
“You must help me.” It was Simon. The desperation in his voice sent a chill up her spine. She’d heard that flat, empty tone before. It was the main reason she’d left h
er native country. There were too many people there who had nothing and no means of changing their situation. They were lost and hopeless. Now that same chord rang in Simon’s voice.
Magda remembered something her father had told her when Communism still ruled Bulgaria. Nothing was more dangerous than a desperate, hopeless man, he’d said. They were unpredictable.
Magda looked at Anton and grabbed his hand. “Simon, where are you?”
“Not important. I don’t know what to do. They’ve found the house.”
“The house?” Magda frowned and then realization dawned. “They? You mean the police?” She leaned into Anton, who wrapped his arms around her waist.
“Yes. The women are gone. Maybe Sergei has been arrested. I don’t know. I am as good as dead. Please help me. Please.” Again the monotone, hopeless voice.
Magda struggled for the right words that might get through to Simon. What did she know about him? Simon had never been violent like Demitri; he’d just been an obedient puppet. But without Demitri there to pull his strings, what would he do?
“Do you have the girl and that woman? The ones I saw on television?” she asked.
She heard an intake of breath and figured Simon was sucking on a cigarette, but he said nothing.
“You called me for help,” she pleaded, “so now you have to tell me what’s going on.”
Still no response.
“Don’t hurt them . . . please. End this without bloodshed.”
“I’m tired, so tired. I can’t run, and there is nowhere to hide. What do I do?” When his voice broke, Magda suddenly feared for the two women.
“Listen to me. Let the women go, and turn yourself in. Don’t hurt them,” she repeated. “Too many have been hurt already. It’s time for all this to stop.” She smashed the phone into her ear. Simon’s breathing was all she could hear. “Simon?”
The connection was severed.
Visible Threat Page 18