Furious (8 page)

T
WELVE

Within hours of being arrested, Faith was transported to an adult correction facility in Roseville. Another four hours passed before she was allowed to talk to a family member. No longer cuffed, she was escorted to a room where inmates could talk to visitors.

Frustration continued to gnaw on Faith’s insides. Although she knew she’d made a mistake, she ultimately blamed Detective Yuhasz for treating her case as if it wasn’t important. Finding her children seemed to be low on his list of priorities.

Jana sat on the other side of the glass window. Her face was pinched. She picked up the phone. The moment Faith took a seat across from her and did the same, she said, “What were you thinking?”

Just like that, Faith’s temper flared. “That man couldn’t remember Lara’s name!”

“So you bashed him over the head with a computer?”

“It wasn’t a laptop. It was a keyboard. Yuhasz is not as tough as he looks.”

Jana sighed. “You hit him more than once! You broke his nose.”

“I admit. I lost control, but that man pushed me to the brink. For the first time in weeks, I was filled with optimism and hope, and all he had to offer was indifference.”

Jana sighed.

“Yuhasz and his men are buried in paperwork,” Faith said. “Finding my children is so far down their priority list it’s pathetic.”

“Oh, Faith.”

“You have to listen to me.” Faith leaned closer to the glass. “The day Craig was murdered, he parked his car on the lawn. He broke a sprinkler head. You, of all people, know how anal Craig was about anyone parking on the grass. He was trying to tell me something.”

“Like what?”

“It was a warning. Those men must have been inside the car with him. I think they forced him to drive home and wait for me and the kids.”

“I thought you said they were looking for something.”

“Whatever it was they were looking for isn’t at the house. We’ve all searched the place . . . me, the police, and the FBI. There’s nothing there. You heard Colton. Trafficking is big business around these parts. They must have taken the kids as an afterthought.”

“If taking Lara and Hudson wasn’t part of the plan, though, why would they have bothered to wait for you and the kids?”

“I don’t know—I’m speculating. For all I know those men just happened to be there when the kids and I walked in on them. Or maybe they thought threatening us would make Craig talk.” Faith frowned. “I just don’t know.”

There was a long pause before Faith said, “The only thing I do know is that I need to get out of here. I need answers.” Faith leaned forward and let her forehead fall softly against the glass. She was an idiot. If only she’d sucked it up and walked away when Yuhasz told her to. She wouldn’t be in this mess.

Jana placed both hands over her growing belly. Her tone softened when she said, “Dad’s doing all he can to get you out of here, but it’s not looking good, Faith.”

“How’s he holding up?”

“He’s the same as always, handling the situation in the same calm manner in which he handles everything life throws at him. He knows the judge in charge of your case. He might be able to work a deal. You’re lucky to have him on your side.”

“I’m lucky to have all of you,” Faith said. Her sister was right. Faith had made a colossal mistake letting her frustrations take hold of her in such a way. She’d never harmed anyone in her life. Never thrown an object in anger. Never shouted at a stranger, let alone cursed in public. “What in the world have I done?”

Inmates were allowed to use a computer for no longer than thirty minutes a day, but it was on a first come, first serve basis. There were only six computers inside a small, windowless room.

Faith waited more than an hour, and when it was her turn, it took her a moment to get comfortable with the computer. She’d spent most of the night creating a checklist in her head. Check out the NCMEC website, scour websites for missing children, see if she could find chat groups, not for emotional support, but hopefully a place where other parents of missing children were proactive in looking for their children. The problem was she had the computer for only thirty minutes.

“I’ve read about you.”

Ignoring whoever was talking to her, Faith typed her children’s names into the search area on the computer screen to see if the media was keeping her story alive. A dozen articles popped up. She clicked on the write-up in the
Sacramento Bee
. The reporter had interviewed coworkers at the school where she taught. Apparently a rumor had made its way around Granite Bay. People were saying that the angry parents of one of Faith’s students were to blame for her children’s disappearance. It was an idiotic story with no basis whatsoever.

“So many conspiracy theories,” the woman said over her shoulder.

Irritated, Faith turned around. “Excuse me?”

The woman hovering over her shoulder had a peacock feather tattooed on her right arm, a hummingbird in flight on the other. Her dark hair was cut short around her ears. “Take it easy,” she said. “I’m just sayin’ there seems to be a lot of theories going around as to what happened to your kids.”

“What do you know about it?”

“Everyone in the area knows about your case, and everyone has their own ideas about what happened. You’ve been the talk of the town. Painting on your walls and then attacking law enforcement.” She made a tsking noise. “That’s one way to keep your story in the limelight. My mom and I think it’s quite brilliant, actually.”

Faith blew out a deep, laborious breath. “So what do you think happened?”

“Well, I do know of a girl who lived in Sacramento who was taken from her bedroom in the middle of the night.”

Faith raised a curious brow and waited for her to go on.

“The police were called. Amber Alerts were broadcasted. Posters were hung. Local newspapers, radio, and television were contacted. Search parties were formed. You get the idea. The girl’s mom did everything she could to find her daughter. And she never gave up.”

“Did she ever find her?”

She nodded. “Fifteen years later, her mom got the call she’d been waiting for . . . her daughter had been found. By then the poor girl was a hooker and a junkie, but she was alive.”

The idea that this could be Lara in fifteen years made her shiver. “Go on.”

“Modern-day slavery,” the young woman said as she pulled up a chair.

“You aren’t the first person to mention it,” Faith said.

“Traffickers are no longer just pimps who prey on runaways and prostitutes. Not anymore.”

“So where was this girl who was taken all those years?”

“Not more than fifteen miles from her childhood home. They had changed her name, of course. They got her hooked on drugs, beat her daily, and spent every moment convincing her that her mother didn’t want her. She believed them, too.”

“Hey,” someone shouted from the line of people waiting at the door. “If you’re not using that computer, get out of the way and make room for someone else.”

Faith looked at the clock. “I have twenty minutes left.” She returned her attention to the woman sitting next to her. “So how did she finally get away?”

“Social media. It was 2010 when a friend suggested her mom use Twitter and Facebook and any other online social networking available to find her daughter.”

“And?” Faith prodded.

“And so that’s what she did. She found someone to make a website, and then she asked the public for help with finding her daughter.”

“So the girl saw her mother online?”

“No. Her daughter was on the streets by then. But someone she knew recognized her and told her what was going on. It all happened pretty quickly after that. Mother and daughter were reunited, and the rest is history. For two years now, Mom and I have been working with public defenders and the courts to make it easier for juveniles to find a safe place to go.”

She was talking about herself, Faith realized.

“More than half the girls we try to help return to their pimps. You know why?”

Faith shook her head.

“Because it’s all they know.”

“What’s your name?”

“Emily Carver.”

Faith turned back to the computer and typed her name into the search bar. There she was in full color, Emily and her mom standing next to the governor of California. The caption read:
A
NTITRAFFICKING
A
DVOCACY ON THE
R
ISE
. “So why are you in here, Emily?”

“Because the drugs got a hold on me . . . and they won’t let go. Every time a pimp gets put away, I feel a sense of victory. But no matter how many hours I work, I still can’t get all those johns’ faces out of my mind. Disgusting, pig-faced johns who thought I wanted nothing more than to suck their dicks. Married men with families who feel no shame paying an underage girl to do to them what their own wives won’t do. The pimps round us up and used to beat us good if we didn’t make them enough money, but if you ask me, it’s the johns who keep them driving around in those luxury sedans and living the good life in their big gated houses.”

Faith felt sick. “These traffickers are taking kids from their homes?”

Emily nodded. “The younger, the better. Malls, restaurants, grocery stores.” She sighed. “Basically you just need to keep doing what you’re doing. Keep your story at the forefront of people’s minds. Don’t let them forget. Never let them forget.”

T
HIRTEEN

Miranda sat in the front seat of Jasper’s car. Once again Mother had blindfolded her, and for the first five minutes she could feel the tires rolling over a bumpy road and hear the loud whirring of more than one motorcycle in the distance.

The car came to a stop.

Jasper rolled down his window and talked to someone. She heard the squeaking of metal as a gate was opened, something she’d never heard when she was taken to visit a client. Was the farmhouse being guarded?

After they merged onto the main road, Jasper told her she could remove the band from around her eyes. She pulled it off, then immediately rolled down the window and let the wind blow through her hair. Her heart cried out, and freedom whispered in her ear.

Last night, while she’d lain awake, a plan had come to mind.
Jasper.
He would help her. She was certain. The idea of a future without rape and torture was a vision she couldn’t let go of. She leaned forward, her chest pressed against the dashboard as she looked up to see the whole expanse of blue sky above.

If and when she escaped, she would never take her freedom for granted again. Gathering her wits, she turned toward Jasper. “Let’s not go to San Francisco.”

He chuckled.

“I’m serious.” She grabbed his arm.

“Hey,” he said, his voice firm. “Careful. I’m driving.”

His expression was hard to read, his voice lined with annoyance. She released her grip. “Sorry. I was just thinking that this is our chance.”

“Chance for what?” he asked without taking his gaze from the road.

“To run off together. You and me.”

“Girl, you must be tripping. Haven’t you learned anything?”

She frowned. “The last time we were together you said you cared about me.”

“How much money do you have?” he asked.

“I don’t have any money. I only have the things Mother packed for me, but you already know that.”

“And she gave me enough money to buy gas to get to San Francisco and back.”

Her spine stiffened. “So it’s true.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sex with me is your payment for working around the farm, milking the cows, feeding the chickens. I mean absolutely nothing to you.”

“You’re fifteen years old—”

“I’ll be sixteen soon.”

“Sixteen then. I couldn’t run off with you if I wanted to.”

“Why not?”

“You’re underage, for one thing. And for another, Diane would find me . . . she would find us . . . and there’s no telling what she would do to us.”

Was that Mother’s name?
she wondered.
Diane?
She let it go for now. “Two against one,” Miranda said.

He laughed. “Yeah, two against one and an army of hundreds behind her.”

“We could hide out somewhere, find a way to make it work. We would have to stay on the run for a while, but we could manage somehow.”

He snorted. “You have absolutely no idea what sort of people we’re dealing with here. You’re such a child . . . so naive.”

She didn’t like him talking down to her. She could read, and she was good at math. She was smart. If she’d never met Caroline, she would have made something of herself. If she could get away, she could still find a way to make a life for herself. “Can’t you just pull over and let me go? Tell Mother I ran off.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze straight ahead, his jaw set.

How could he do this to her? She swallowed the knot lodged in her throat. After a while she asked, “How long until we’re there?”

“Soon.”

She’d been wrong about Jasper. He wouldn’t help her after all. Her fingers rested on the door handle. The thought of being forced to spend time with Mr. Smith was too much to bear. She thought about opening the car door and tumbling out onto the highway. There was a lot of traffic, a good chance she would get run over.

It would all be finished.

She would be free.

She curled her fingers around the metal handle. One quick flick of her wrist . . . that’s all it would take. It was suddenly difficult to breathe, felt as if a block of cement were pressing on her chest and suffocating her.

“Do you know how much money it costs to feed all of you and keep a roof over your heads?”

She glanced at him. Jasper looked unexpectedly anguished.

“I didn’t ask to be brought to the farmhouse,” she told him.

“I know that,” he shot back. “Your mom sold you and I’m sorry about that, but we all know life isn’t fair. Over time you’ll adjust and things will get better.”

“You’re a liar.” How could he say such a despicable thing about her mom? She’d never felt such hatred for anyone.

“You didn’t know?”

“My mom never would have sold me. She loved me more than anything in the world.”

“I’m sure she did. Maybe they convinced her you would be better off—a warm bed and food to eat.”

“Shut up! Stop it! I hate you.”

He sighed. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

She turned toward the window, watched the cars swoosh by in a blur, everyone with someplace to go. She didn’t need Jasper’s or anyone else’s help. She would find a way back home even if it killed her.