by Marci Bolden
“I can’t rest,” he said more softly.
Alexa seemed to consider before nodding. “Okay. Come with me.”
He followed her back inside and to the front-desk area, where she asked to see the human trafficking advocate. His stomach knotted as he realized he’d almost rather go back to the hotel and sleep than go through whatever Alexa was about to do. He didn’t ask her plan because he didn’t think he wanted to know.
Several minutes passed before a short, heavyset woman walked out to greet them. She held her hand out to him, and the same kind of tender understanding filled her eyes that he’d come to recognize in Alexa’s. He took her hand as she introduced herself as Sandra Cawling, social worker, human trafficking survivor, and the person who was going to treat him to his second cup of coffee of the day.
They walked to the little coffee shop across the street, making small talk that Dean didn’t really listen to. Sandra and Alexa talked about work, cases, and weather while Dean trailed behind them. At the coffee shop, three mugs were set in front of them and filled without anyone asking, but the waitress disappeared with the wave of Sandra’s hand, making Dean think this was a normal part of the social worker’s day.
“This isn’t easy,” Sandra said. “Seeing a loved one being exploited never is.”
Dean looked out the window. He’d definitely made the wrong decision by coming here instead of going back to the hotel.
“Dean is struggling with blaming himself,” Alexa said.
He wanted to be angry about her breach of his confidence, but he couldn’t be. She was right. He was struggling, and he needed help.
“That’s common. My mother still has moments when she breaks down crying when she sees me. I expect that to stop sometime, but I have no idea when.” She sipped her drink. “Do you want to know how I got pulled in?”
He did. But he didn’t. So he didn’t answer.
“I was an outcast at school. No matter what I tried, I didn’t fit in. So I withdrew into myself and started spending a lot of time on my computer. I found this group online for people like me. We railed against the in-crowd. We supported each other through being bullied. And one day, one of the friends I’d made asked me to send him a picture. I did. He told me I was pretty. I’d never been told that before.”
Dean looked at her. She wasn’t a model by any means, but Sandra wasn’t an ugly woman either. She wouldn’t stand out in a crowd for being too attractive or too unattractive. She was average. An everyday person. He couldn’t imagine no one had ever told her she was pretty.
She smiled as if she could read his mind. “I was an overweight, pimply teen back then, Mr. Campbell. I’d inadvertently told a predator my weakest point. He knew what I wanted to hear. After a few days, he asked to meet in real life. I did.” She laughed, but it was flat as her focus seemed to get lost on the past. “He bought me dinner and talked to me like I was a person. Then he started buying me things like nice clothes and medication for my acne. One day he said he was in trouble and needed money. He said I could help.” She blinked several times and focused on Dean again before continuing. “He’d been so kind to me, my only real friend, so of course I wanted to help him. But then he told me what he needed me to do.”
Dean’s stomach knotted. He wanted to tell her to stop, but he couldn’t. He needed to hear this, because this could very well be Mandy’s story, too.
Sandra sighed loudly. “I didn’t want to have sex with his so-called friend, but I didn’t want to disappoint the only man who had ever been kind to me. So I closed my eyes tight and pretended to be somewhere else, and I did it. Then I did it again and again. Every time to help my friend who said he was in trouble. I didn’t understand that I was being prostituted for two years. I thought I was just helping a man who cared about me.”
“Did he drug you? Mandy’s been drugged.”
“He didn’t need to drug me. He knew what I was missing and he gave it to me. In return, I fell into a cycle of human trafficking without understanding what was happening. I was arrested twice before someone sat me down and explained that what I was doing was prostitution. Just because I met men in nice hotel rooms to help a friend didn’t mean I wasn’t being exploited.”
Dean shook his head slightly. “Mandy was never bullied. She was popular in school.”
“This doesn’t just happen to kids who are outcasts. These people know how to find someone’s weakness and break them.”
Dean lowered his face and drew a breath. “I’m sorry for what you went through.”
“And I’m sorry for what you are going through,” Sandra said softly. “But this isn’t your doing or Mandy’s. The world is full of monsters. Unfortunately, one found your sister and pulled her into his web. But she has a hell of a team of people on her side. We’re going to find her and help her through this. I know you feel like you’re on your own here, but you’re not. Neither is she.”
When she reached across the table, Dean took her hand. Then he took Alexa’s. His guilt hadn’t abated, his desperation hadn’t eased, but for a moment he let himself soak up their support and once again let himself feel hope that Mandy would come home and somehow, someday, everything would be okay.
10
Alexa parked in Dean’s driveway and turned her head to him. Returning home without Mandy had been a huge disappointment for them both. He’d been quiet most of the drive back, but Alexa didn’t blame him. She’d warned him that even if they’d found Mandy, she might not return. Even so, the reality of leaving Chicago without her had hit him hard.
“Want me to stay?” Alexa asked.
“Do you want to stay?”
She patted his thigh. “Tell you what. You go in and take a shower and get some rest. I’ll swing by around dinnertime.”
“With something from Abuela?”
“Most likely.”
He smiled for the first time since leaving Sandra at the police station in Chicago. “That’d be good. Thanks.”
Her heart sped up in her chest when he leaned over and kissed her sweetly before climbing from her car. She waited until he was inside before backing out, mostly because she was dreading going into the office. She had about fifteen minutes from the time she left his house until she walked into HEARTS and had to face Holly. Holly would see through her if she tried to hide that she had slept with Dean. There was no point in even trying. Those women could sniff out a secret as easily as they could a slice of chocolate cake hidden in a desk drawer.
No. There was no lying about or denying what had happened in Chicago. Alexa just had to figure out how the fallout was going to go. She wouldn’t get fired or reprimanded; that wasn’t her concern, but the thought of seeing disappointment in the eyes of her coworkers was even worse than the idea of losing her job. She didn’t want them to think less of her, and she feared they would.
Worst-case scenario, really, was that Holly would take her off the case. If she did that, Alexa figured Dean would probably fire the team altogether. He didn’t seem interested in working with someone else. They had built a foundation of trust before they’d slept together.
Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel, she let herself dwell on the inevitable conversation as she drove on autopilot to the office. Once she parked, she looked up at the intentionally nondescript one-story building. Everything about HEARTS was intentionally nondescript. No flashy signs, no flashy ads. They kept the business low-key and under the radar for a reason—the less attention they drew to themselves, the easier it was to blend in and not be noticed, which was highly beneficial for private investigators.
Just over a year ago, Alexa had met her old friends Holly and Eva for dinner, where they announced they were joining forces to form a PI agency. Did she want in? Hell yes, she wanted in. That was everything she’d ever wanted, and she didn’t regret a moment of the hard work or bonding that had taken place.
Building a company from scratch hadn’t been easy. People—mostly men—weren’t always interested in hiring female invest
igators, but HEARTS found a way to survive. And grow. In a few short months, their team grew into six crazy, mix-and-match personalities that couldn’t be better suited to working together.
She wouldn’t lose that. She couldn’t lose that. Not that she really thought she would. She thought, or at least hoped, her teammates would understand that screwing her client wasn’t something she did on a regular basis. And Dean was…special. As lame as that sounded, it was true. She felt something for him that she couldn’t explain.
Exhaling a slow breath, she shoved her car door open and headed inside. “Is Holly in?” she asked as she passed Sam without any other greeting.
“Well, hello to you, too, buttercup. No, Holly isn’t in. Everyone else is, though.”
Alexa headed straight to Rene’s office. Rene was a straight shooter. She could tell her what happened and get an honest reaction. If Holly was going to be pissed, Rene would tell Alexa to brace for the ice storm that would befall her.
Knocking as she entered, she offered a weak smile to her teammate. “Busy?”
Rene glanced up. “No, come on in.”
Alexa closed the door behind her as she did, and Rene sat a bit higher, clearly taking notice. Doors only closed around here when there was about to be a top-secret conversation.
“What is it?” Rene asked without prompting.
Sitting in the chair across from Rene, Alexa puffed up her cheeks, which warmed as she recalled the feel of Dean’s body tangled with hers. She had to say it. Just confess and…
Rene’s expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes shifted as she slapped the folder on her desk closed. “You fucked him.”
Dropping her mouth open, Alexa gasped and then snapped her lips together.
Crossing her arms, Rene leaned them on her desk and stared at Alexa. “Are things awkward now?”
“With you and me or me and Dean?”
Rene narrowed her eyes. “With our client.”
“No.” Alexa hadn’t meant for the word to sound like a pout, but it had. “We agreed we wouldn’t let our relationship get in the way of finding his sister. Mandy comes first. We agreed.”
Rene sat back, looking more disappointed than angry. Alexa had been right in her assessment—disappointing her teammate was much worse than angering her. Her chest ached under the weight.
“I messed up. I know that. But I like him, Rene. I really like him.”
Her features softened into a rare display of sympathy. “Oh, Lex. This is could be a disaster.”
“Are you mad?”
“No, I’m not mad. Do I think screwing him before the case is resolved was stupid? Yes.” She sighed but quickly followed the sound with a chuckle. “And I just lost twenty bucks.”
Creasing her brow, she let the words process. “What?”
The faux innocence on her face only added to the air of mischief. “Hmm?”
“Why would you have lost…” Gasping dramatically, Alexa widened her eyes. “You guys were betting on whether I would sleep with Dean?”
“Not on if, on when. You blush every time he comes around. We could see that you liked him.”
Sinking back, Alexa wasn’t sure if she should be mad or not but decided her coworkers’ gambling habits didn’t matter. “I do like him. He’s so sweet.”
“And he likes you, I assume.”
Alexa nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
“I hope so. You deserve to be happy, Lex. But I do have to say, I’m worried that this could end badly.”
Alexa shrugged. “Anything can end badly, right?”
Rene lowered her eyes for a moment. “Right. Did you find his sister?”
She shook her head. “Her pimp caught wind that the police had busted one of his johns. He moved his girls before we could find her. But she’s on the radar of the human trafficking unit in Chicago, and the detective there is going to send her picture to the heads of other departments. If she gets arrested, he’ll be notified and will let me know.”
“And if that doesn’t happen?”
Alexa knew that was a possibility, but hearing it from Rene made her dread run deeper. Their best bet of finding and rescuing Mandy was for her to be handed over to a social worker after being arrested for prostitution. “I’ve got a file on her pimp. I’m going to start digging into him.”
Rene nodded. “Good. Listen, I don’t know what Holly’s going to think about you and Dean, but if she wants to reassign the case, I’ll take it and make it a priority.”
Another possibility she didn’t want to face. “Thank you. I appreciate that. Do you know when she’ll be back?”
“I don’t.” She glanced beyond Alexa’s head, as if to verify they were alone before leaning forward and speaking with a softer tone. “Something is off with her.”
Alexa lowered her gaze.
“You know what it is,” Rene accused.
Meeting her eyes again, Alexa nodded. “I can’t talk about it, but, yes, she’s working through something.”
Concern like Alexa had never seen filled Rene’s eyes. “Is she sick?”
“No,” Alexa quickly said. “No. Nothing like that. She’s fine. She and Jack are fine. It’s…something else, nothing…” She pressed her lips together, knowing she had to give Rene an answer without breaching Holly’s trust. “She might have a new lead on an old case. One that’s not what she expected.”
Rene didn’t seem appeased, but she didn’t press for more. “Are you helping her with this old case?”
“No. But I’ve offered.” She ground her teeth together, considering her words before speaking. “I’ve suggested she bring this case to the team, but it’s a bit personal for her, and she feels that it is her responsibility to solve it.”
“Holly feels sole responsibility for something. Imagine that.”
Alexa smiled. “Yes, imagine.” Pushing herself up to prevent herself from saying too much, she blew out her breath. “Thanks for offering to be my backup on this case, Rene. I hope it doesn’t come to that, but if it does, we’ll sit down and go over everything more closely.”
“Alexa,” she called. “You’re a good investigator. But you’re human too, and it’s okay to share your burdens. Remember that.”
“We all need to remember that,” she said before leaving. Though she was exhausted and had a perfectly good reason to go straight home, she wanted to sort through her e-mail and any other messages that had landed on her desk. However, after a quick skim of her inbox didn’t show a single bit of new information being offered on Mandy’s whereabouts, Alexa realized that she had little interest in anything else. She deleted some junk mail and sat back in her chair, letting her eyes swim as she considered the facts she had in Mandy’s case. Before long, as her mind tended to do, she was thinking about Lanie.
Opening the bottom drawer of her desk, she grabbed the worn manila folder that had long ago started to fray along the edge where she had picked it up time and time again. Setting the folder on her desk, she flipped the top open and was greeted with an old eight-by-ten photo of her sister. The image was permanently burned into Alexa’s mind, so much so that she sometimes saw the picture when she closed her eyes at night.
She set the photo aside and read the police report that she’d memorized years ago. The next page in the file was the typed notes Alexa had made after questioning Lanie’s coworkers. No one had seen her disappear. No one had seen anything suspicious. No one had noticed anyone watching her or following her or threatening her.
Everything about her last night at the diner had been just as ordinary as any other night at the diner.
She’d been staring at this file for years. Maybe it was time to admit that she’d never find Lanie. Maybe it was time to accept that sometimes answers, and missing people, were never found.
Did it really matter anyway? She was sure that the only closure she was going to find or provide to her mother and grandmother was confirmation that Lanie had died, somehow, somewhere, by some mysterious hand, long ago. She
didn’t need to find Lanie’s remains to know that.
Slamming the file shut in a show of her deep-seated frustration, Alexa turned and held it over the trashcan next to her desk. But her fingers wouldn’t release the papers to let them fall into the bin. She couldn’t let go.
Swallowing hard, blinking the sheen of tears from her eyes, she spun her chair enough to shove the file back into the desk drawer and closed it hard as she stood. She couldn’t stop looking. Even if she did, her mind would never rest. Holly had found a possible lead into her mother’s murder twenty years later. Alexa could still find something that would help her find out what had happened to her sister.
No. She couldn’t give up. What she could do was start over, with a fresh set of eyes. Once Mandy Campbell was home and safe, Alexa would spend a few days reviewing Lanie’s file. She’d revisit Lanie’s old coworkers and friends, gently question Mami and Abuela again. Just like Mandy’s friends, maybe Lanie’s friends had been feeling protective of her privacy when they’d been questioned. All these years later, perhaps one of them would be ready to tell Alexa any secrets Lanie had been keeping.
Someone knew what had happened to her sister.
Dean woke with a start. He wasn’t certain what had awakened him, but Alexa was already sitting up, tuned in to the darkness. He moved to sit, but she put her hand to his chest and pushed him back down.
“Stay put,” she whispered as she slipped from his bed.
He couldn’t see more than shadows in shades of blue-silver cast by the waning quarter moon, but he was able to hear. The sounds of someone shuffling around in another part of the house made his heart roll in his chest and his stomach clench with anxiety.
Alexa slid her gun off the nightstand and pushed the safety off with a quiet click. Her bare feet didn’t make a sound as she moved across the carpet of his bedroom. He sat up and pushed the blankets aside.
“I said to stay put,” she whispered from the door.
