by Melinda Colt
Acting on instinct, Finn drove past the van without slowing. If he bothered to notice, all he would see was another car on the road. She’d noted the address and its surroundings. Driving around the block, she returned to the area where the suspect had stopped. Snowplows were at work, clearing the streets. Where could she park? Being able to get out of her vehicle was critical to her plan. In this neighborhood, strangers would be noticed. Luckily, thanks to the heavy snow, most people were staying inside.
The house in front of which the suspect had parked his van was more isolated than most. By accident or by choice? A short distance beyond it was a logistics center. Finn said a quick prayer of thanks that there was no barrier blocking the access to the large, almost empty parking lot. Stationing herself close to the building, she cut the engine. From here, she couldn’t see the suspect’s house, but she used her SatNav system and her location to highlight the appropriate address. Glancing at her watch, she saw it was almost nine. Way too early to try anything. She would have to wait at least until midnight. Thanks to a full tank of gas, she wouldn’t freeze.
Using the marvelous technology she didn’t fully understand, she passed the time watching two classic romantic comedies on her tablet, Some Like It Hot and How To Marry a Millionaire. She’d turned on the engine a couple of times to warm up the car. When she looked at her watch, she realized her arm was numb. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, heating her blood as she realized it was a quarter past midnight. Time to act.
Getting out of the car, she shook her legs, massaged her numb butt, donned her backpack, and then locked the Volkswagen. It was terribly cold, and the snow falling included stinging droplets of ice. She’d always been fascinated by soft, fluffy snowflakes, by their gorgeous shapes and unique designs. In school, she used to draw them, adding glitter to make them prettier. With her mother a cosmetician and her father a cop, they hadn’t been rich, but they’d made sure their only daughter lacked nothing, including the very best school supplies.
That was what those children should be doing—drawing snowflakes, dreaming of Santa Claus, and playing in the snow. Instead, they were held captive like animals and stripped of any hope for a decent, normal life. It was unacceptable. By hook or by crook, she would fix this. She would play a fundamental role in rescuing them and putting Fraser behind bars, along with anyone else who was part of this atrocity.
Chapter Three
Finn walked toward the suspect’s house, furtively staying in the shadows and avoiding the street lights. Unlike most houses, which had flimsy, leafless bushes or none at all, this place was surrounded by thick evergreen trees and shrubs. Were the trees and bushes simply overgrown, or had the fortress-like landscaping been by design? Criminals might use these tactics for concealment, but outsiders, like herself, were just as hidden from those inside. It was a two-way street, and she took advantage of it.
Thankfully, the house didn’t have a fence—none of those in the area did. Would the building have an alarm system? Unlikely. Fraser wouldn’t want anyone inside his house who wasn’t part of their trafficking operation. Nothing she’d read in his dossier indicated he would have the ability to install one himself.
Peeking through the evergreens, Finn took a few moments to listen and observe. There was no sound, no movement. The area was as silent as a graveyard, which precluded the presence of guard dogs since they would’ve barked at her nearness.
Finn trudged through the snow, her breath coming out in vapor. She exhaled, adjusted her backpack, and using her gloved hands to feel her way forward, eased her way through the wall of greenery surrounding the property. Branches tugged at her gloves and coat, but her cap’s brim protected her face from any scratches. It was pitch dark within the vegetation. Thanks to her sharp night vision and a distant street lamp, she could see the outline of the building.
The house was decades old and in serious need of repair. No doubt this wasn’t Fraser’s home, but a temporary refuge where he stashed the kids. Who else might she find inside? She patted her gun. She could defend herself and the children if she had to.
The front windows were dark. Heart hammering, Finn inhaled deeply. There was no going back now. To be perfectly honest, despite hoping she would, she hadn’t expected to get this far. Now that she was here, she might as well finish the job—if she could.
Stepping out of the shelter of evergreens, she found herself only a few feet from the side wall of the house, well concealed by the shadows. Slowly, cautiously, praying the snow would keep falling and obscure the footprints she was leaving, she made her way around the house. There were four windows, not counting those at the front. Since she couldn’t risk turning on a flashlight, she peered inside each window, cursing herself for not bringing a pair of night goggles. The first room was dark, and from what she could make it had the shape of a kitchen. Her breath faltered when she saw the flickering light from an old television set in the next room. Ducking down for cover, she listened for several minutes before risking another glance. The light from the TV showed Fraser, fully clothed, lying on the bed, asleep. Finn watched him for several minutes, relieved when he didn’t move a muscle.
She trudged on to the next window, but it was so dark inside that she couldn’t see anything. Were the children asleep, cold and hungry in that inky darkness? She clenched her jaw so tightly it ached.
Moving along, she came to the last window. She’d expected more darkness, but was taken aback at the sight of the three kids inside. The boys, fast asleep, were huddled together on a mattress on the floor. Finn gasped, unable to believe her luck. Maddie was awake, writing something in a small notebook, sitting in front of the electric radiator, which put out heat as well as light.
Gratitude filled her. At least for the moment, the children had heat. What a crazy thought! Was this how the children felt? Grateful for the tiniest of comforts? Something most people took for granted was a luxury to them. Why would they run away out into the cold when they had heat in here? Psychology 101.
Finn bit her lip, unsure how to draw Maddie’s attention. She was afraid the child would scream if she saw her, and that was a huge risk. She was still pondering the issue when she glanced up and saw the girl staring right at her. Finn raised a finger to her lips, her eyes begging the girl to stay quiet. An understanding beyond words passed between them, a connection so strange and powerful it shook Finn to the core. She signaled to the child, indicating she should approach the window. If the damn thing didn’t open, all of this would be for nothing.
Maddie stood and crossed the room. Finn indicated she should raise the glass. Painstakingly, darting worried glances behind her at the sleeping boys, she inched up the pane.
“That’s as far as it goes,” the child whispered, kneeling so that her mouth was near the opening.
Finn reached in and gently cupped the girl’s cheek, her movement as light and cautious as a butterfly’s.
“It’s enough,” she murmured. “Don’t be afraid, Maddie. It’s me, Finn. You do remember me, don’t you?”
Maddie nodded wordlessly, her round, inquisitive eyes searching Finn’s face.
“I brought you something.” Finn reached around and removed her backpack, opening it to retrieve the thermos and the sandwiches. “This is for you.” She put the thermos on its side. It barely fit through the opening. “Drink it while it’s still hot. Make sure you drink slowly so you don’t get sick, aye?”
Maddie twisted the lid off the thermos. She must’ve smelled the delicious soup because she drank it straight from the container, not bothering to pour it into the cup.
As much as Finn might like to take her into her arms and whisk her away, it was impossible. She had a job to do.
“Maddie, where is your family?”
The child shrugged, lowering the thermos from her lips. “I don’t know. Home, I guess.”
“Where are you from? How did you get here?” Finn forced herself to slow down and not overwhelm the child. One question at a time was the best way to ge
t answers.
“Do you have a family, Maddie?”
The child nodded, still sipping soup.
“Okay. Where are you and your family from?”
“From Essex.”
Finn nodded. Estuary English, not a cockney accent. The sound was so similar, they were often confused. She’d seen the name of the British village on a list of the poorest areas in the UK. Once a popular holiday destination, the seaside village was now plagued by unemployment, drugs, and thriving crime. Rage blazed through her. Were Maddie’s parents crack-heads who’d sold their child for drugs? She would learn the truth in due time, but for now she needed more answers.
“How did you come to be in Ireland?”
The child’s eyes were sad. Suddenly, her gaze seemed to belong to someone ten times her age. “I’m not supposed to tell.”
“You can tell me, Maddie. I’m your friend, and I want to help you. I want to make sure you have a good life, a nice house, pretty clothes, and anything else you might want. For me to help you though, I need to know the truth. Do you understand? You can trust me.”
Maddie kept her hands around the warm thermos, staring at Finn. She nodded slowly.
“It was last July. I remember because it was the morning of my birthday, July 7th. Uncle Seamus came to visit us, and my dad said I had to go with him and do everything he told me to do.”
Finn’s gut tightened. “Uncle Seamus? He’s your uncle?”
Maddie shrugged. “My dad said so, but I’d never seen him before that day. He said we would get along famously. He gave me a notebook, some pencils, cookies, and lemonade to drink. I got into his car and got really hot and sleepy. I don’t remember anything else, but when I woke up, it was night time. Uncle Seamus took me inside a dark, chilly room. Dan and George were there.” She gestured to the boys sleeping behind her. “The next day, we came here.”
So, he’d drugged her for what would’ve been at least an eight hour journey.
“Do you recall anything about that place?” Finn asked.
Maddie bit her lip, her little forehead scrunched up as she forced herself to remember.
“It was a big room with stone walls, and it was cold. We had to go down a lot of stairs to get there. There were bottles everywhere, glass bottles stacked in rows. Uncle Seamus told us it was our lucky night. He said not to touch anything, but Dan was thirsty. When we were alone, he opened a bottle and drank from it, and it made him sick. The next morning, Uncle Seamus beat him so badly—” Her voice stopped in a small hiccup, and she quickly wiped her eyes. “Not allowed to cry. If we do, there will be hell to pay. Here.” She closed the thermos and pushed it back under the window. “Thank you, but you have to leave now. If he finds me talking to you, he’ll kill us, all of us, including you. He’s always saying that, and he’s mean. I believe him...”
Finn took the thermos from Maddie’s shaking fingers, gripping one tiny hand in her own. “I won’t allow that to happen, I promise you, Maddie. Take these.” Finn unwrapped the sandwiches and passed them under the window, one by one. “Once I’m gone, wake up the boys and give them each a sandwich. Swear them to secrecy if you have to, but don’t let your Uncle Seamus find out about them, or me. Be patient a little longer. I will come and get you away from here.”
“Where would you take me?” The child’s eyes were huge in their hopelessness.
“To a better place, a safe place where no one will ever hurt you, or make you do anything that you don’t want to.”
Maddie didn’t look convinced, but she nodded automatically. She’d been trained to agree to anything. Finn prayed that begging was the only thing she’d been required to do during the past six months. Maddie was such a beautiful girl, it would only be a matter of time before Uncle Seamus would find other uses for her.
Over my dead body!
Finn shoved the thermos into her backpack and zipped it shut. “Don’t breathe a word about me to anybody. It’s very important.”
Maddie shook her head emphatically. “I won’t, I promise.”
“If—when—I get you out of here, you’ll have to tell others what happened to you. Just the truth, that’s all you’ll have to say, but you might have to do it more than once and in front of many people. What this man is doing to you, Dan, and George is wrong. He needs to be stopped and punished, so that he can’t do this to anyone else. Do you understand that?”
Maddie bit her lip. Slowly, she nodded.
Finn blew out a relieved breath. “Good. That’s good. You’re such a smart girl. I will get you out of here. I don’t know when, but I will be in touch.”
She squeezed the girl’s hand. The feel of those tiny little fingers in hers broke her heart.
Briskly, she turned to leave.
“Wait, Finn.”
Maddie went to where she’d been sitting, ripped a page out of her notebook, and folded it carefully.
“Would you mail this for me?” She handed Finn the paper.
Puzzled, Finn took it. “Of course. What is it?”
“My letter to Santa.”
Chapter Four
Back in the car, with hands trembling so badly she could barely control their movements, Finn started the engine. As heat spread inside the vehicle, she sat there, her heart pounding, her body quaking in relief. She inhaled a shaky breath, realizing she still held Maddie’s letter. Switching on the map reading light, she unfolded the piece of paper covered in round, careful writing. Since she was probably the closest thing to Santa Maddie had right now, she figured she had the right to read the letter.
Dear Santa,
I write to you every year, but so far you’ve never answered any of my letters. Dan and George say you’re not real. I think you are. You must be, since the whole world believes in you.
Every year, I’ve asked you for my mum and dad to stop fighting, to stop drinking and calling each other names. I wanted them to love me. I wanted us to be a normal family. Now I realize there are some things even you can’t fix. Maybe that’s why you didn’t answer my letters, because some wishes simply can’t come true. Or maybe I’m a bad girl because I don’t miss my mum and dad at all. Ever since Uncle Seamus took me, I’ve never missed them once. As bad as life is with Uncle Seamus, I never want to go back to the shouting and the drinking.
This year I’ve decided to ask you for something else. Please give me a new family, a mum and dad that will love each other and that will love me. Please give me a family like the one in my favorite commercial, where the mummy cooks breakfast for daddy and their daughter every morning, and then daddy kisses them on the cheek before he leaves for work. Their fridge is always full of marvelous things, and their house looks so warm and full of light. The little girl in that commercial looks like an angel. Maybe one day I’ll be an angel, and I can have a family like that.
I hope you’ll receive this letter, even though it’s a long way to the North Pole. I wouldn’t mind living there, if only I had a mummy and daddy like in the commercial.
Love,
Maddie
By the time Finn finished reading the letter, tears cascaded down her cheeks. Her chest was so tight it hurt, but she was unable to make a sound. As she’d done so often over the past months, she stroked her belly, the place where, for eight magical weeks, her baby had slept and grown.
When she’d learned she was pregnant, she’d been terrified of Bryan’s reaction. They’d never discussed having a family or getting married. They were focused on their careers. A child wasn’t on either’s agenda. Surprisingly, he’d been thrilled by the unexpected news. They’d talked about a fairytale wedding, buying a house, and had even discussed names for the baby. Bryan had hoped for a boy, while she’d secretly wished for a girl.
Then one day, she’d felt ill at work. Certain all she had was indigestion, she’d gone home, put on her pajamas, and climbed into bed for a nap. Bryan’s screams woke her. There was a small pool of warm blood under her. Just like that, her baby was gone.
The doctor had exp
lained that miscarriages in the first trimester were common and had assured her she could get pregnant again at any time. None of that mattered to her, or to Bryan. They’d been devastated. Neither one of them was a good communicator, so instead of bonding in their grief, they’d drifted apart. They still loved each other, but there was no longer talk of the future, marriage, babies, or buying a house.
Finn dug out a tissue from her bag, wiped her tears, and blew her nose. Her personal problems had nothing to do with the job at hand. However, there was something about this child that tugged at her heart. Could it be some type of residual pain from her suffering a miscarriage in the very month Maddie had been handed to a human trafficker by her own father? Sold like some piece of meat. Finn’s hands clenched, her nails digging craters into her palms. Right now, if she got her hands on that bastard, she would kill him. No. That would be the easy way out for him. She could do better.
Tonight’s mission had been a huge success, but the emotional turmoil had exhausted her. Exhaling to calm herself, she glanced at the backpack on the passenger seat. The empty thermos now carried Maddie’s fingerprints and DNA. The fingerprints would confirm the child’s presence in Fraser’s house, which would serve as evidence at his trial. Most importantly, the DNA would help identify the girl’s parents.
Finn smiled thinly. Police in the UK had collected DNA from almost everyone who’d been arrested in the past decade, even for minor offenses. The samples were kept in a huge database. If either one of Maddie’s parents had been arrested—and considering the way they’d disposed of their daughter, it was a strong possibility—then their DNA would be on record and the police would identify them.
