In Too Deep

by Lynn H. Blackburn

  “We don’t have to do this,” he said. “Gabe can handle it if you don’t want to talk to me. I can tell you don’t want to tell me anything about this.”

  “Adam,” she said, “I never wanted to tell anyone about this.”

  He didn’t say anything. He waited without a hint of impatience, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

  He tapped the desk. “Would it help if we walked as we talked?”

  “Yes, it would. But how will you take notes?”

  “I have a pretty good memory,” he said. “I’ll type it up later. You can read it before I send it to Gabe to be sure I’ve captured everything accurately.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe? To be outside?”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Are you saying you don’t think I can protect you?”

  “Of course not. I . . . I . . .”

  Adam laughed. “I’m just messing with you, Bri. The main concern for your safety was that someone might try to attack you to get the laptop before you could analyze it. I think we need to be cautious, but if I really thought someone was going to come after you, I’d insist you go into protective custody tonight.”

  “Oh.”

  He put the pad and paper back and waited for her by the door. “I can’t imagine what’s so hard for you to talk about, but I promise to treat anything you say with the utmost confidence and respect.”

  “Thanks.” Sabrina glanced around the lab. Everything had been returned to its previous pristine condition. And unless you opened the evidence locker, there was nothing to indicate anyone had been in the lab over the weekend.

  “All done?” he asked.

  She answered by grabbing her jacket and following Adam out of the lab, pausing to be sure everything had locked. Satisfied the lab was secure, she joined Adam, who was waiting a few steps away. He extended his arm and she rested her hand in the bend.

  Adam led them outside and deeper into the heart of campus. “Where are we headed?” she asked.

  “I thought a stroll around the pond would be nice.”

  “The roar from the fountain will make it hard for anyone to overhear us, and the lighting is excellent,” Sabrina said.

  Adam grinned. “Yes. That’s why it’s so nice.”

  “I thought you said I wasn’t in any danger.”

  “I don’t think you are, but I’m not taking any chances.”

  They continued in silence until the walkway around the pond came into view. Adam didn’t pressure her to speak, and they made it halfway around before she managed to force out a few words.

  “I don’t know where to start,” she said.

  “Try the beginning.”

  “I’m not sure where that is,” she said. She wasn’t sure of anything.

  He placed his left hand over hers. “It’s okay if you ramble. This isn’t a lecture. It’s a conversation. It doesn’t have to follow a timeline. Although now that I think about it, maybe you’d prefer a spreadsheet. Or a PowerPoint presentation?”

  She fought a smile. “You know me well.”

  Adam didn’t respond.

  “Although I guess right now you’re probably thinking you don’t know me as well as you thought you did.”

  He patted her hand. “I’m thinking I wish you would trust me enough to know that no matter what you say, it isn’t going to change—”

  He cleared his throat.

  “Change what?”

  “Anything,” he said.

  Somehow she didn’t think that’s what he’d been planning to say, but she didn’t have the mental energy to try to figure it out right now.

  Father, help me.

  Maybe if she got the worst of it out, it would be easier. Like ripping off a bandage.

  “I have absolutely no proof, but I have a very strong suspicion my nanny was a slave.”

  Adam never broke stride, and although she’d been prepared for him to distance himself, he instead pulled her closer to him. She didn’t fight it. Somehow leaning against him gave her the courage to keep talking.

  “My parents were both workaholics,” she said. “My father was a professor of physics on tenure track. Very much a publish-or-perish kind of job. He worked all kinds of crazy hours. My mother, well, she was busy climbing the corporate ladder.”

  “What did she do?” Adam asked.

  “She’s the CEO of YTT Healthcare.”

  “Present tense? As in right now?”

  “Yes. I doubt she’ll ever retire. I thoroughly expect her to drop dead at her desk.” She could hear the bitterness in her voice. “Imagine if your aunt Margaret was in the business world.”

  Adam shuddered.

  “Exactly.”

  “I guess she was gone a lot when you were a kid,” he said.

  “Oh yeah. Sometimes she’d be gone for two weeks at a time. My father was working constantly. My nanny raised me. Her name was Rosita.” Her eyes burned with tears, and she blinked them away. “Both of my parents are from wealthy families, and both of them were incredibly driven to be successful. One of my mother’s sisters is a federal court judge. One is a concert pianist. Her brother is a senator.”

  “What a bunch of underachievers,” Adam said.

  “I know you’re joking, but my grandfather would have agreed with you,” she said. “None of them ever did anything fast enough or well enough to suit him.”

  “He sounds delightful.”

  Sabrina couldn’t stop the chuckle that bubbled out. “You’re terrible.”

  He squeezed her hand and laughed with her. “Sorry.”

  “No, you aren’t,” she said. “And that’s just it. He was delightful in public but a nightmare in private. And my dad’s family was no better. His father was a surgeon. My dad was an only child, but his mom came from a family that made their money in newspapers—back when that was a profitable venture. While my mother’s family expected her to be successful and wealthy, my father’s family expected him to make a significant contribution to the world. They pounded it into him that it would be a crime to be blessed with his intelligence and not use it for the greater good.”

  “That’s a lot of pressure,” Adam said.

  “It is. But it’s no excuse for what I’m afraid my parents did.”

  “What made you suspicious?” Adam asked the question with such tenderness that the tears threatened again. She looked toward the pond so he wouldn’t see.

  “Not long after I became a Christian, I got involved with an anti–human trafficking organization in Virginia. It’s what first whetted my appetite for computer forensics. I helped one of my professors pull photographs off a hard drive the perpetrator had tried to destroy. The photographs led us to a sex-trafficking ring. Those photographs . . . I’m a very visual person, and while I don’t have a photographic memory, I have excellent recall. I can never unsee those pictures.”

  “I get that,” Adam said.

  “But as awful as it was, and is, I realized if I was that traumatized by a few photographs, then the women and children in those pictures who had actually lived that life were in desperate need of help—help I could provide. How could I not do everything in my power to aid them?”

  “It takes deep compassion to step into someone’s anguish rather than run away from it,” Adam said. “Most people would run.”

  “I don’t know about that,” she said. “I think most people choose not to see it in the first place.”

  “Good point.”

  “Anyway, at first I thought all human trafficking was sex trafficking. I didn’t realize modern-day slavery existed in the US. I thought that was something that happened overseas. And that the only slaves anywhere near me were being sold for sex.”

  They moved to the far right of the path to allow a jogger to pass them.

  “But then I learned about labor trafficking and realized anyone could be a victim. The man bussing my table in the restaurant. The woman changing the sheets in the hotel.” She blew out a hard breath. “The nanny who tucked me in every
night.”

  “You recognized the signs of labor trafficking in your own home?”

  “I don’t know for sure,” she said. “I was young and the specifics are fuzzy. But with what I know now? It’s very possible. Labor trafficking is insidious. Men and women are often prevented from learning English because their captors want to make it impossible for them to develop outside relationships. They may be in private homes or working in public places, but people don’t realize they aren’t being paid a livable wage. They may be forced to work eighty hours a week or more, and even though they’re walking down the sidewalk, they aren’t really free. Someone has their passports and has threatened to deport their children if they don’t keep their mouths shut and work. They live in fear, and they’re everywhere and no one sees them.”

  “You see them,” Adam said. “You’re making a difference.”

  “Maybe, but I wish I’d understood earlier.”

  Adam squeezed her arm. “What happened to Rosita?”

  “Rosita was everything to me, and when I turned ten, she disappeared. No goodbye. No address. No way to keep in touch. I came home from school one day and she was gone.”

  Sabrina brushed away the rogue tear that had escaped down her cheek. “At the time I was devastated. Then I was angry. My parents told me she’d quit. They said they were angry with her. They told me they were sorry. And I’m almost certain it was all a lie.”

  Adam’s phone buzzed. He ignored it.

  “You can get that.” She’d be grateful for the break.

  “It can wait,” Adam said. But it buzzed again. “Or maybe it can’t. I’m sorry.” He pulled the phone from his pocket. “It’s Gabe.” He tapped the phone. “What’s up?”

  He listened, his eyes narrowing and his brow furrowing. Something must have been wrong.

  He shook his head a few times. “Okay. I was talking to Sabrina, but I guess we can finish up tomorrow . . .”

  She nodded. Yes. Please. Tomorrow.

  “Okay. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  A pause.

  “I don’t know. Maybe thirty minutes? I’ll walk Sabrina to her car and follow her home, and then I’ll head your way.”

  He heaved a massive sigh and put the phone in his pocket. “I am . . . this is awful,” he said. He took her hands in his. “Gabe is convinced I need to come see the victim’s home. Tonight. Now. He thinks whatever you have to contribute to the investigation can wait until tomorrow. He wouldn’t go into any further detail.”

  “Gabe’s a good guy,” she said. “I’m sure it’s important.”

  “So is this. I don’t want to brush over how hard this is for you.”

  He had no idea. He couldn’t possibly know. His family was made up of the most upstanding citizens in the community. Hers was full of modern-day slave traders. But he was listening with compassion and without judgment. It was more than she could have hoped for.

  She fought the urge to lean in to him. If she did, what would he do? Would he wrap his arms around her? Would he rest his head on hers?

  He tucked her arm in his again and turned so they were walking back toward the parking lot. “I have one more question for tonight.”

  “Okay.”

  “When did your dad die?”

  This she could answer. “He died in his sleep last June. It wasn’t unexpected. He’d been failing for months. He had a plot purchased here and the funeral home took care of everything. There wasn’t really a service. He’d made it very clear he didn’t want one. And I’m his only remaining family, so . . .”

  “Still, I wish you would have told me. I . . . you . . . I’m sorry you had to go through that alone.”

  How could she explain to him that going through things alone was what she did? That it was the only way she knew to do it? She didn’t know what to say, so she just shrugged.

  He must have accepted that as enough because he said, “Why don’t we talk about something else for now, and we’ll come back to the family stuff tomorrow?”

  Yes. Tomorrow would be much better. She’d gladly change the subject.

  “How was lunch today?” Sabrina asked.

  Adam could hear the relief in her voice as the conversation moved to something lighter. The Campbell family dinners were a regular topic of conversation with Sabrina. “Fine. Mom and Dad are in Italy, and Alexander is on call.”

  “So you had to deal with the craziness on your own.”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Were you still eating when you were called in?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’m going to need you to give me the play-by-play of that.” Sabrina didn’t even try to hide her enjoyment of the story. “I bet your aunt Margaret gave you some grief.”

  “Nonverbal grief. Yes.”

  “She’s good at that,” Sabrina said.

  Had Aunt Margaret been unkind to Sabrina? Why would Darren allow that? Darren’s own mother had passed away from breast cancer when he was twelve. Aunt Margaret had stepped in as the mother figure in Darren’s life. Poor guy.

  “I don’t know how Darren deals with that all the time,” Adam said. What would Darren think if he saw him walking with Sabrina like this? He should pull away from her, but after everything she’d shared, he didn’t want her to think he was trying to distance himself in any way.

  He could feel the shrug of her arm against his. “Who knows? I haven’t talked to Darren in three months.”

  Adam’s feet froze in place, and he jerked Sabrina to a stop.

  She turned to him. “Are you okay?”

  Way to play it cool, Campbell. “I’m fine.” He scrambled to come up with some excuse. “Sometimes I forget how to walk and talk at the same time.”

  Wow. That was lame.

  Sabrina’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “Happens to me all the time.”

  She tucked her hand back in the crook of his arm and they kept walking, but the conversation didn’t resume. How could he get her talking again? Preferably without being too obvious.

  “Where were we before I tripped over my own two feet?” He didn’t give her a chance to respond. “Oh yeah. We were talking about Darren. I haven’t talked to him in four months. I guess you would still know more than I would.”

  If Gabe or Ryan had heard that, they never would let him hear the end of it. He was usually quite good at making conversation, but he experienced these kinds of social interaction disasters frequently when he was with Sabrina.

  But she didn’t seem to notice.

  “You aren’t close?” She sounded surprised by this.

  Had she and Darren ever talked about family at all?

  “I’m not particularly close to any of my cousins. We see each other at Sunday lunch each month. But my career choices haven’t exactly endeared me to most of the family.”

  “Ah.”

  He waited, but she didn’t say anything else.

  “I like Darren fine though. He certainly appreciated the work you did.” Sabrina had been able to prove Darren wasn’t behind an embezzlement scheme one of his business partners had set up. “In fact, Grandmother keeps hinting that she wants to meet you.”

  Sabrina’s entire body went rigid.

  “I’m guessing you’re not interested in meeting her.”

  “She terrifies me.”

  “I wish I could tell you she’s harmless, but . . .”

  Sabrina relaxed against him but didn’t say anything else. He debated about trying to restart the conversation, but he’d learned when Sabrina was quiet, she was thinking. Which happened a lot. And he didn’t want to interrupt her thoughts.

  When they reached her car, she turned to face him. “You didn’t ask me why I haven’t talked to Darren.”

  Oh boy. “Was I supposed to? I was trying not to pry.”

  “You don’t already know? I thought he might have said something to you and that’s why you didn’t ask.”

  “I have no idea why you haven’t talked to him.” He refused to say “broke
up with” because that would imply a relationship he didn’t want to acknowledge.

  Then a horrible thought flew through his mind. “Did he—did he hurt you?” He didn’t care that Darren was family. If he’d hurt her, he would pay.

  “No. Of course not. Not at all.” She pulled off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “He said I’d led him on. Which I still don’t understand. I made it very clear to him that we were just friends.” Her expression clouded. “Or I thought I did. I’m horrible at that kind of stuff. I probably botched it.”

  Friends. Adam had never heard a more beautiful word.

  “But then he kissed me.”

  Adam saw red.

  “And he was shocked when I told him to stop. He said he thought I was playing hard to get.”

  He clamped his teeth together in an attempt to keep from saying the kinds of words he’d given up saying.

  “I don’t know why I told you all that. I shouldn’t have. But I wondered if he’d said anything to you. I’m not the kind of girl who plays hard to get. I don’t know how to be that kind of girl. The only reason I went out with him in the first place was because he only asked me to go to things related to fundraising for the university. I was going to have to go anyway, so I didn’t see the harm in saying yes to going with a friend. And I thought I’d made myself clear.” She frowned. “You’re sure he hasn’t said anything to you about it?”

  “I’m sure,” Adam said. Although he was going to have plenty to say to Darren about it.

  “Huh.”

  “Why did you think he would have told me?”

  She swallowed. “I don’t know. You’ve been more like yourself tonight, but overall you’ve been a little distant lately. I thought maybe you were mad at me. I’m not good at reading people. But I knew something had changed, and that’s the only thing I could think of. If it wasn’t that, then what was it?”

  Now she’d done it.

  Adam’s face glowed red in the light they were parked under.

  “I knew it. There is something, isn’t there?”

  He swallowed hard a couple of times. “I am not now, nor have I ever been, upset or frustrated with you. I apologize for causing you any distress, because that is the last thing I would ever want to do. Ever.”