“And I’m sure it’s about so much more than semantics. If you’re worried about having enough faith, then you’re putting faith in yourself and of course you can fail. But when you keep the focus on the God you believe in, then everything changes. He’s big enough for all our doubts, fears, and questions. He’s big enough for our anger and our pain.”
“But sometimes he allows awful things.”
“He does.” Sabrina glanced around the room. Servers were everywhere. Were they having this conversation in a room where evil was on display? “But that’s when we have to remember that he’s bigger than we are. His thoughts are above our thoughts. His ways are above our ways. And if he has allowed something awful, there’s a purpose that’s beyond anything we can imagine.”
“Do you really believe that?”
“Not every day.” She might as well be honest. “I’m very intelligent. I often start thinking I know the best plan because I’ve evaluated the plans on the table and chosen the one that makes the most sense. Then when God doesn’t do what I expected, or what I think is best, I get mad.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“But when I do that, I’m proving I still think I know best. And the truth is, it’s entirely possible that I’d chosen the best scenario of the three or four available to me. But God is infinite. He’s eternal. He looks at a situation and doesn’t see three or four possible paths to a solution. He sees thousands. And he can see that solution number five hundred eighty-two is best, and because he loves me, he chooses not to allow me to have the solution I chose. Not because I chose poorly, but because he’s chosen the best.”
Art shook his head. “I’m going to be chewing over this conversation for a while. I may have some more questions for you later.”
“I’d love to hear them,” she said. “An untested and unchallenged faith is unproven. And the scientist in me likes to see things proven.”
Art nodded at someone over his shoulder. “Adam and Abby are heading this way. So I hope you’ll forgive my abrupt change of subject.”
“Of course.”
“You and Adam need to take a walk. Take Gabe and Anissa with you. Go see if those cabins are still out there.”
“Sir?”
“I’ve been watching the staff come and go tonight. I have a suspicion and I don’t like it. But if I go out there it will draw too much attention. Two young couples in love out wandering the property? You’d be able to get much farther than I.”
“Art, I know Adam wouldn’t want you to take that kind of risk. Let him handle it.”
“I will. You’ll tell him?”
“Of course.”
Adam and Abby danced beside them for the last few bars. As the song faded, they all clapped and Adam reclaimed her while Art pulled Abby toward him. “I was telling Sabrina they needed to get outside and enjoy this lovely evening,” he told Abby.
“A fabulous idea,” she said. “You kids go have fun. You can’t make the tongues wag any more than they already are. Might as well make the most of it.” She grabbed Adam’s sleeve. “If you can get a photographer to catch you and Sabrina kissing, that will be the cherry on top of the evening.”
“Mom!”
Art and Abby glided away.
“You okay?” Adam asked.
“Yes, but I need to talk to you. Outside?”
“Let’s go.”
She should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. It took forty-five minutes for them to make their way to the coat check. She slid her arms into her jacket and walked with Adam out the side doors. “Your dad said we need to go around back and look for the cabins.”
“What?”
“I know, but that’s what he said. He said we should take Gabe and Anissa and—”
“And what?”
“Well, he didn’t come right out and say it, but I believe he was thinking if we acted like we were trying to find a place to be alone we’d be able to get by with just about anything.”
Adam didn’t like it. She could tell by the way his mouth had pinched into a flat line. But he was considering it.
“Leave it to Dad to make a suggestion like this one,” he said. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed. “Gabe, can you and Anissa come outside and stay close but not too close? I’ll explain later.”
A few nods and a couple of grunts and he slid the phone into his pocket. “They’re on their way. Let’s walk to the back fountain. Nothing about that will raise suspicions.”
“You really know your way around this property, don’t you?”
“Yeah. Sean Sullivan and I were good friends. We played all over this place. I’ve always had a soft spot for it.”
“Why?”
“Maybe because it was one of the few places my family had no say over. Sean and I loved that people were surprised by our friendship. They assumed the Campbells and the Sullivans were like the Hatfields and McCoys, but we weren’t. Our moms were good friends. Our dads got along. It was fun.”
When they reached the fountain behind the hotel, Adam made a show of pointing out the various features farther and farther away. “Gabe and Anissa are back there,” he said in a low voice.
“Now what?”
He pulled her into his arms and anyone watching would have assumed they were kissing. Instead he whispered, “If we follow along the far edge of this courtyard, there’s a small door in the wall. If they’re using it, it won’t be hard to find or open. When we go through it, we’ll need to stay close to the wall as long as possible. Are you up for it?”
“Of course.”
“In those shoes?”
“I forgot to tell you the best part about these babies.” She slipped out of her shoes and with a quick twist, removed the heels. She put her now-flat—and much more comfortable—sandals back on her feet and slid the heels into her pocket. “Now I’m ready.”
He did kiss her then. Long enough that she almost forgot why they were out here.
Almost. But not quite.
When he grabbed her hand and took off toward the wall, she followed him without hesitation.
In the darkness, Adam went more by memory than sight.
It had been a couple of decades since he’d been back there, but it hadn’t changed much.
And that bothered him. It should have changed. A lot.
No hotel stayed in business if they left things the same for twenty years.
He hoped anyone watching would assume he was looking for a place to be alone with Sabrina and would, out of courtesy, leave them alone.
They crept along the wall behind the bushes and there it was. The door was not only still there, but it also had new hardware and new hinges. But it wasn’t locked.
He heard something coming from the other side and ducked down behind a bush, pulling Sabrina with him.
The door opened and two young Hispanic women emerged, both dressed in maid’s uniforms. They were speaking in Spanish.
One of them asked the other how she was feeling. The other replied that she felt horrible and hoped someone got sick from being around her since the boss wouldn’t let her stay in bed.
“Did you get all that?” Sabrina mouthed the question to him.
He nodded. He hadn’t learned Spanish from infancy the way she had, but his parents had insisted he know how to communicate with everyone who worked for them. They’d also insisted he learn Latin and some Greek. Surprisingly enough, he’d used all of them since joining the sheriff’s office.
His mother was rather smug about that.
Adam waited until the two women were completely out of sight before he approached the door again. If someone was on the other side, he and Sabrina would have to pretend they were looking for some privacy.
He opened the door and stepped through. Sabrina was right on his heels. He paused to get his bearings and then stepped behind a tree a few feet off the path. More voices floated toward them. As they watched, eight more people, six women and two men, emerged from the trees at the end of the field, wa
lked up the path, and passed through the door and onto the hotel grounds.
Adam tried to determine if any security cameras were out there. Although . . . what you don’t record can’t be used against you later. Maybe they weren’t worried about their employees—if that’s what they were—leaving. And they’d probably never needed to worry about someone trying to break into this area.
At least not until tonight.
When it had been clear for several minutes, Adam found the path he’d used as a child. This path was inside the tree line and not as well marked as the one the workers had been using. But it did the job.
He kept walking. It didn’t take long before the outline of the first cabin came into view. It didn’t appear anyone was inside, but he could hear voices from farther down the path.
He and Sabrina slipped past the first cabin and the second appeared a few moments later. As he remembered them, they’d been out of sight of each other. Far enough apart for the illusion of privacy, but not so far apart that it was annoying for the staff when they were making the rounds between them.
A dim light glowed around the door frame. No lights showed in the windows. Were they blacked out?
It took them fifteen minutes to make the loop, and from what he could tell, people were living in at least eight of the twelve cabins. But there were still just the two bathhouses.
And they stank.
“We need to get back,” he said. “People will get suspicious.”
“But we haven’t found anything,” Sabrina said.
“We know those employees had to have come from here. And we know people are back here right now. And staying here often enough to wreck those bathhouses.”
But she was right. They hadn’t seen anyone enter or leave the houses.
A door opened and a young woman emerged. Alone. She glanced around and darted to one side of the house.
This was interesting.
While he was trying to come up with a plan, another figure darted past them, going in the same direction as the first. Over the next ten minutes, three more people emerged and went in the same direction.
Adam had texted Gabe after the second person, and he and Anissa had eyes on the small group.
Gabe texted Adam that it appeared they were all assembled and whatever meeting they were planning had begun. Gabe was going to get closer so he could try to listen in. Anissa had eyes on Gabe. Adam and Sabrina moved until Adam had eyes on Anissa.
It felt like an eternity, but it was only a few minutes before a text lit up his screen. “They’re being trafficked. Lisa was going to help them. They’re terrified. Trying to decide what to do.”
Gabe moved back toward Anissa’s position, and Adam and Sabrina met them there.
“Do we dare let them know they have friends?” Gabe asked.
“Maybe,” Adam said. “But will they panic if we show ourselves?”
“Let me go.” Sabrina was insistent. “I’m not a cop, so they may be willing to listen to me.”
“What do you think?” Gabe directed the question to Anissa.
“Maybe if I go with her? My Spanish isn’t as good as yours, but I’ll be able to keep up.”
Gabe considered it. “You don’t look threatening, at the moment.”
“I’m not threatening to them regardless,” Anissa said.
“But they don’t know that.” Gabe had a good point.
“I don’t know.” Adam couldn’t imagine sending Sabrina in there. Would these poor people believe them when they told them they could help? Or would they react in fear?
Sabrina grabbed Anissa’s arm and walked in the direction of the group. She didn’t try to be discreet or subtle. Instead, she went for the big reveal. She threw her head back and laughed.
Anissa didn’t hesitate. She joined right in. “Can you believe it?” She practically screamed the words.
The clandestine group froze, then one of them stepped forward. “Excuse me,” he said with a heavy accent. He pointed toward the main hotel. “Please,” he said.
“Oh.” Sabrina looked around in apparent astonishment. “My goodness. How did we get so far away?”
“Por favor,” a young woman said. “Por favor.”
Those poor people were terrified. But now Anissa and Sabrina were right in the middle of them.
Sabrina leaned toward one of the young women and spoke in Spanish. “My name is Sabrina. I can help you.”
The small group froze.
“We believe you’re being held against your will. That you’ve been lied to. Mistreated. We can help you.”
“Sweetheart,” a young man spoke in English. “The last person who tried to help us is dead. She went to the cops and wound up in the lake.”
“Lisa Palmer died before she could tell the police anything,” Sabrina replied in Spanish. “I’m not a police officer, but I have Lisa’s computer. I have her photographs. I’ve been trying to put together a case. That’s how we found you tonight. And we can help you.”
“They have our families,” a young man said. “They aren’t here. If we talk to you, they’ll kill them. Or worse.”
This was a wrinkle. If they freed these people tonight, would they be sentencing their loved ones to death?
“Do you have any idea where they are?” Sabrina asked.
“We’ve figured it out,” one of the men said. “There’s a rotation. They didn’t realize when they put us all here that we’d be able to put it together. They think we’re stupid.”
“Can you tell me where the others are?”
Silence was the only answer Sabrina got this time.
“What if I make a few suggestions? Could you tell me if I am right?” Anissa asked.
No answer.
Anissa started with the big one. “Senator Carson.”
Nothing at first, then slow nods.
“We’ve already got The Porterhouse and The Back Door.”
More nods.
Anissa named the remaining locations from the photographs. “That’s all we know,” she said. “Are there more?”
This time they shook their heads no.
“If we could get search warrants. Tonight. For all of these places at once. Would you be willing to help us?”
The same young man who’d been worried about his family glared at Sabrina and Anissa. “I thought you said you weren’t police.”
“I’m not,” Sabrina said, saving Anissa from answering. “But my friends are. They want to help. This”—she pointed around them—“is wrong. This isn’t what America is about. This isn’t what humanity is about.”
“What do you need to know?” a woman asked.
Anissa took a small step toward her. “How many of you are there?”
“We don’t know, but we guess around two hundred.”
“Do they have your passports, your visas?” Anissa asked.
“They take our papers when we come. Make us work to pay off our debt.” The young woman who spoke had a fire in her eyes. She was ready.
“Has anyone ever paid off their debt?” Sabrina’s question seemed to surprise them.
Multiple people responded. “No.”
The hardest thing Adam had ever done was walk away from those people. Anissa had produced a burner phone from some mysterious pocket in her dress and they’d left it with the group, along with the promise that they would return.
They hurried back toward the hotel. Gabe called Ryan, whose babysitting duties had ended thirty minutes earlier.
Ryan went straight to the one judge they felt they could trust.
And Adam and Sabrina danced.
“Are we doing the right thing?” she whispered in his ear. After they’d made it back inside, they’d gone straight to the dance floor and blended in with the dancers. It felt like they’d been gone hours, but in fact it had been only one. The party was still in full swing. The senator was still there, chatting with Barclay Campbell. Surprise, surprise.
The owners of The Back Door had had a bit too much
to drink and were singing along with the orchestra.
The owners of the spa were chatting with the owners of the cleaning company.
He’d never noticed how chummy they all were.
Adam made eye contact with his dad. One quick nod. He hoped his dad understood.
They danced number after number. They chatted and munched on canapés and tiny portions of shrimp and grits, and they tried not to let on how much their stomachs were churning. They smiled, nodded, and posed for photographs.
And still there was no phone call. No word. They switched partners with Gabe and Anissa so they could safely exchange information.
The knot in Adam’s gut continued to grow. What if they’d made a mistake? What if the captain was in on it? What if the judge was in on it? What if it was about to end with all of them as fish food?
“Gabe says to tell you to relax. Ryan would have warned us if anything wasn’t going as planned,” Anissa said.
He twirled her away from him, then back to him. “I don’t have his confidence.”
“You don’t have his experience. He says this judge is a crusader. The type that will take what we have and run with it.”
“I hope he’s right. Lives are quite literally at stake.”
22
Gabe was fun to dance with, but Sabrina couldn’t enjoy the experience. She waited until he’d pulled her close to his chest to continue grilling him. “But what if someone decides they want some task force to try to take down the big people at the top? We can’t leave the ones we know are in slavery to suffer. I can’t do that.”
“I know.”
“I talked to them, Gabe. I looked into their eyes. And in every one of them I saw Rosita. I wish someone had helped her. What if someone knew and did nothing because they wanted a bigger fish?”
“Judge Yates won’t want a bigger fish.” He seemed confident.
“How do you know?”
“Because sometimes the bigger fish isn’t the most satisfying catch. And Judge Yates has one fish he’s been after for a long time.”
“And we’re giving him that fish?”
“On a shiny, silver, too-many-years-of-jail-time-to-count platter.”
In Too Deep Page 26