The Lost Girls

by Allison Brennan

  Siobhan said, “Rick can be very persuasive.”

  Both Sean and Lucy knew Rick well, and if Lucy thought something was off, something was off. “Trust your instincts, Luce.”

  “Noah and I are on the same page. We think this is a black-market baby operation.”

  This time, Siobhan stared at Lucy. “What? No—it’s set up to be a typical sex shop. A house to lock up the girls when they’re not working.”

  Lucy didn’t waver from her opinion. “It’s not typical. The house wasn’t in a major city. It was in an unpopulated rural area. You saw a young girl with a baby, another girl pregnant, and Father Sebastian found Elizabeth. There was also another young mother who was left at the emergency room in the middle of labor and needed an emergency C-section—we believe that may be connected to the same group. She left without giving any information, but police traced her to a house that had been set up just like the one in Freer. Also abandoned. Now she’s in the wind as well.”

  “I don’t have to leave,” Sean said quietly. “If you need me, I can stay.”

  She shook her head. “I’m okay. Really—we have leads, we’re going to find out what’s going on down there.”

  Sean didn’t want Lucy to go back to Laredo. And he didn’t want to go to Mexico. Something about this case bothered him. Or maybe it was his own situation, not wanting to leave the country when Lucy was involved in something like this.

  Lucy asked, “How long will you be gone?”

  “Hopefully not more than three days.”

  “So back by the weekend. Perfect, I’m not on call this weekend, and one thing I’ve learned this last year is not to work on my days off.” She squeezed his hand, but even her little smile was sad. He wanted to talk more about this case, what she saw, what she was thinking, because he could see Lucy’s mind at work. She always internalized her cases, unable to put them aside to give herself some peace. It made her good at her job … but it took its toll.

  “What kind of case are you working?” Siobhan asked Sean.

  Sean didn’t want to explain the situation until he had a chance to tell Lucy in private. “An old friend from college came by today—her husband and son disappeared while in Mexico. The husband may be involved with something shady. Kane and I are going to look into it.”

  “I didn’t know you were working with RCK again,” Siobhan said. “It’s about time.”

  “I’m not with RCK, but since I know Madison, and a child is at risk, I feel I need to help. Kane knows the area and people better than I do, but considering he had major surgery three months ago, I’m not going to ask him to go alone.”

  “He knows everything,” Siobhan said with a touch of sarcasm. “Stubborn jerk,” she muttered.

  Lucy glanced at Sean, eyebrows up. He shrugged. “Rogans tend to be stubborn,” he said.

  “Some more than others,” Siobhan countered.

  “Seriously, though—I’ll be available by phone. If you need anything, call me.”

  “Will do.” Siobhan rose and stretched. “I’m going to sleep. Noah—what a genuine guy, even if he’s a bit gruff—said he’d pick us up at seven to beat traffic. I’m setting my alarm for six forty-five. It doesn’t take me long to get ready, and I really need a good night’s sleep.”

  She hugged Lucy and kissed Sean on the cheek. “Thank you for letting me stay.”

  “Mi casa es su casa.”

  She laughed. “Your Spanish is pathetic, Sean.”

  She left the kitchen and Lucy cleared the plates. “I’ll take care of these tomorrow,” Sean said. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Lucy sat back down. “Siobhan doesn’t believe it—but Noah and I agree. Multiple women, multiple infants, multiple pregnancies. Marisol and Ana disappeared a little over two years ago, and one of them gave birth to Elizabeth, but left her wrapped in a shirt at a church. The other pregnant women, the other house in Laredo that was shut down at the same time as the house outside Freer opened, I think one of two things is happening. What if these are all girls in the sex trade who get pregnant and instead of forcing the girls to terminate the pregnancy, they force them to deliver and then sell the babies?”

  Sean tensed. “Lucy—”

  “Or,” she continued, “this is the plan all along. Not sex trafficking. Maybe when these girls find themselves pregnant, they are convinced to give up their babies. Taken from their friends and family, leave voluntarily, I don’t know. Maybe they think it’s a legitimate adoption. But so many are embarrassed, or unmarried, or illegal immigrants, or young and they don’t know who to turn to. They’re being used. Manipulated. The mother in the hospital three months ago—she could have told the doctor everything, she would have been given help. The ob-gyn is someone Siobhan vouches for, she seems to have a good head on her shoulders and has been very agreeable to all of Noah’s suggestions. Security, keeping Baby Elizabeth longer and under protection.”

  “What happened to the woman three months ago?”

  “According to the report, she was put in a shelter for unwed mothers, but left two days later, with the baby. Just vanished.”

  Lucy looked down at her hands. She was tense and shaking.

  Sean pulled back her hair, made her look at him. “Honey, what is it?”

  “I can’t stop thinking about Elizabeth—that’s what Father Sebastian named her. Innocent. Pure. Left at a church by a desperate mother … where did she go? Why didn’t she ask Father Sebastian for help? She trusted him enough with her baby, why not with her own safety? What if these babies are being sold? What if they’re being sold to … to…” A sob escaped Lucy’s throat.

  “Don’t go there,” Sean said, harsher than he wanted. “You can’t go there.”

  “I can’t help it.” Her voice was small. “I want to believe that rich people who can’t adopt legally are buying these babies and will love and take care of them. That maybe they’re not bad people. But you and I both know that there are sick people in this world, and who is going to protect these babies? If we can’t find the others … I don’t know. I see everything that can happen and it makes me feel so damn helpless!”

  Sean gathered Lucy up in his arms. “Don’t. You’re going to do your job and do it well, better than anyone else. Noah’s on this, and you trust him—he’s a good cop. Between the two of you, you’ll find these people and stop them.”

  “And what about the babies? Are we going to find them?”

  Sean couldn’t answer that; if he said yes, Lucy would know he was placating her. If he said no, he’d destroy her hope. “Have faith, Lucy.”

  She seemed unusually fragile. Sean turned off the lights and wrapped his arm around Lucy’s shoulder. He walked her upstairs. Put her to bed. She was asleep in minutes, snuggled against his chest. Safe.

  He was almost asleep when he realized he hadn’t told her about Jesse.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Siobhan woke up at four that morning after nearly five solid hours of sleep. She didn’t want to get up—the bed was the most comfortable she’d ever slept in, with smooth sheets and a thick down comforter. She sighed, stretched, then relaxed and checked her phone for messages. One from her editor she’d been ignoring for days. He wanted to know what she was working on. She wasn’t—she hadn’t been doing much of anything since she got the call from Father Sebastian about the locket. She’d planned to visit a Habitat for Humanity site in El Paso—they were building a series of town houses that would eventually house twelve families. Each of the families was required to help, and Siobhan wanted to explore their stories in a photo journal of the entire project.

  She liked to think her mom would have been proud of the path she’d chosen. Siobhan’s mother, Iona, had planned to be a nun from when she was little. The Sisters of Mercy didn’t require their members go through a convent, though most were nuns, but they required a three-year commitment and a devout lifestyle. It was at the end of the three years that Iona had met Andrew Walsh … but she didn’t want to leave her work.

&
nbsp; Siobhan’s dad loved them, he wanted to marry Siobhan’s mother, but Iona didn’t want to settle in the States. She wanted to continue doing what she felt God called her to do. She never once called Siobhan’s birth a mistake, though considering Iona and Andrew weren’t married until Siobhan was five, the pregnancy was certainly unplanned. It was that year, when Siobhan was five, that Iona took a year off from the sisters and brought Siobhan to the States. She’d met her half sister Andie, her half brother Bobby—who was already in the Marines—and they lived on a horse farm in Virginia. Siobhan loved it. The house, her family, the horses, that she had her own room! She’d didn’t want to leave, but she didn’t want her mother to leave, either.

  Siobhan didn’t know exactly what happened between her parents, but they got married that summer and then Iona took Siobhan back to Mexico to work with the sisters. Her father visited for two weeks each year, wherever Iona was working, and Siobhan spent a month every summer in the States—but Iona never joined her. Her dad wrote to her often, and Siobhan took photos of everything that interested her and sent them to him. When Siobhan turned fourteen her mother said that she could choose—to go to school in the States or stay with the sisters.

  Siobhan chose the States. She missed her father. She liked living a missionary life—she knew how to grow crops, deliver a baby, treat almost any injury, and she was the best fisherman among the sisters, much to the frustration of Sister Bernadette who had taught her. Her mother taught her English and even some Gaelic; she learned Spanish from the sisters and the locals; she taught English to the younger kids. Sister Gretchen, from Germany, had been a physicist before she got her calling. Siobhan learned math up to calculus by the time she was fourteen because Sister Gretchen was such a great teacher.

  But Siobhan missed her dad. She wanted to experience more—the States, movie theaters, limitless books. She wanted to talk to people and see what they were like. She wanted to go to museums and see a big city and not be scared anymore.

  Because for all the joy the missionary life gave her, there was fear. Great fear. Of men with guns, of the cartels, of corrupt police and executions.

  She’d learned that fear came in all shapes and sizes; that the grass was always greener on the other side of the border, but in the dark of night you had to know in your heart that you were on your path, not the path forged for you by someone else. It wasn’t until her father died, joining her mother in Heaven, that she searched her soul, searched her heart, and knew what she should do. And the last ten years—through violence, through illness, through heartbreak—she had a deep inner peace because she was on the journey she was meant to be. It wasn’t the path of her mother, or her father; it was her own.

  When the digital clock changed to five o’clock, Siobhan got out of the warm, soft bed and dressed in layers as she habitually did. Lucy had been kind enough to let her use her laundry room, so she pulled all her things out of the dryer and repacked her lone backpack. It was durable, military grade, and could hold far more than it appeared from the size.

  But she felt naked and lost without her camera.

  It wasn’t just the cost of the equipment. It was state of the art, for certain, and it would be difficult and costly to replace, but without her camera she felt incomplete. She’d had a camera since she was five years old; she itched to hold one right now.

  She walked down the hall to the light in the kitchen. Lucy was there, pouring herself coffee. Siobhan had been thrilled to finally meet the girl who’d won Sean’s heart, but she wished it could have been under better circumstances.

  “Coffee?” Lucy offered.

  “Thank you. Black.” She used to drink it with cream and sugar, but when she was on the road with the sisters, she couldn’t be guaranteed either, so she grew used to drinking it black. Fresh-brewed coffee itself was a luxury—she really despised the instant kind. “Well, maybe just a sprinkle of sugar.”

  She sat down and looked around the kitchen. “This is really a terrific house. And the neighborhood is so quiet. I get itchy when I’m in a city after living so many years in the middle of nowhere, but this doesn’t feel like San Antonio.”

  “It’s an established neighborhood. Sean picked it out.” Lucy put the coffee in front of Siobhan and sat across from her. “I thought it’d be too big, but we’ve had a lot of company. Kane stayed here for three weeks after his surgery.”

  “I’m glad he took time off—I was afraid he’d go right back into the trenches. He’s not getting any younger.”

  “I think he realized that.”

  “Sean has always been there for Kane, but Kane is hard to get close to.” That was an understatement. Siobhan wanted to throttle him half the time and kiss him the other half. Kiss him? She wanted to do a lot more than kiss him.

  But Kane was stubborn. Stubborn with a capital S.

  “How long have you known the family?” Lucy asked, sipping her own coffee.

  “Forever,” she said. “Andie, my half sister, was Kane’s commanding officer when he enlisted. I was a kid, didn’t meet him until I was seventeen and Andie was awarded a Purple Heart and a Medal of Honor for saving her unit and a bunch of civilians. Kane was at the ceremony, came back to the house. He reminded me of Bobby, my half brother. He’d been killed in Afghanistan the year before, and Andie missed him tremendously. I thought for the longest time that Kane and Andie were involved, but they’re just friends.” She didn’t know much about her sister’s private life. All she knew was that she’d been in love once and he’d died. She never talked about it, and Siobhan didn’t ask.

  Then seven years later, Siobhan saw Kane again. Under far more dangerous circumstances than a party at the house.

  “Anyway,” Siobhan said, shaking off the memories, “I started college in Virginia, then went to Ireland. I had no intention of going back to the Sisters of Mercy. My mom died when I was fifteen, after nearly twenty years of serving, and I didn’t have the same calling. But … well, long story short, I’ve always loved photography. There’s something the camera sees that we don’t. The sisters’ numbers were shrinking, they had fewer resources. I’d been working for National Geographic and traveling all over the world and I loved it. Then Sister Bernadette reached out to me. She asked if I would join the sisters for six months and help rebuild a village that had been destroyed in a flood. I could take pictures and document their work, bring attention to the plight of these small communities, and also help the sisters with their fund-raising. It was the least I could do, after having lived my first fourteen years with them. That was ten years ago. Now I spend three or four months each year with the sisters. The rest of the time I travel through Mexico and South America, primarily, freelancing for a couple magazines. National Geographic, Life, Photography, whatever I can sell to. Sometimes the Times if I can get a good Sunday feature story worked out. It’s a good balance for me.”

  Sean walked in. “You were up early, Lucy,” he said.

  Lucy leaned up and kissed him. “You didn’t sleep well last night. I thought I’d let you sleep longer.”

  Sean took out a pan and started preparing scrambled eggs. He got out tortillas, sausage, salsa, and cheese. “Spicy or sane,” Sean asked Siobhan.

  She laughed. “Spicy.”

  Sean moaned. “You and Lucy. It’s a wonder your taste buds aren’t fried by now.”

  “You don’t have to cook,” Lucy said. “We can get something at Starbucks.”

  “Sit. At least you’ll have one good meal today.”

  “You’re not hearing me complain,” Siobhan said.

  Sean left for a minute, then returned with a small black bag and put it in front of Siobhan. “It’s not what you lost, but it should work until you can replace your camera.”

  “What?” Siobhan stared at the bag, then looked at Sean.

  “Open it.”

  Lucy crossed over to Sean and kissed him. “You’re amazing,” she said.

  Siobhan opened the bag case. Inside was a digital camera. Almost as nice a
s the one she’d lost. “I can’t take this.”

  “It’s a loan, until you get yours replaced. Seriously, I rarely use it. I configured it like your old one, so it should work with your phone app.”

  Siobhan jumped up and hugged first Sean, then Lucy, then Sean again. She blinked back tears. “You guys are so, so … wonderful. Thank you.”

  There was a beep at the door that startled Siobhan. “What’s that?”

  “Our security system.” Sean typed in a code on a small tablet that was attached to the wall. “Oh, he has the code.”

  “You gave Noah the house code?” Lucy asked.

  “Of course not. Kane.”

  Siobhan froze. “Kane’s here?”

  “Yes I am,” a deep voice behind her said.

  Her heart raced as she whirled around to face him.

  Kane looked like he always did—hard, handsome, rough around the edges. He’d lost weight, and he’d never been overweight. His jaw was still square, firm, defiant. He had a touch of gray at his temples. His dark hair was still short, but a little longer than the military cut he usually kept. He wore khakis and a black T-shirt. He dropped his duffel bag just outside the kitchen entry.

  He stared at her, his dark-blue eyes unreadable because he was good at shutting down his emotions.

  I’ve always loved you, Kane.

  She had, from that day when she rescued the little girl and he saved them both. He was impossible, arrogant, condescending, loyal, and brave. He cared more than he showed, more than he could say, about the plight of others. He acted, always acted, to stop bad people from hurting innocents. He didn’t want to care, he said he didn’t, but she saw that those who talked cared less than those who acted.

  Kane didn’t talk much.

  He could deny his attraction until his last breath, and she wouldn’t believe him. She’d spent too much time with him, on and off, over the years. She knew he loved her. Knew it as deeply as she knew the truth about her own feelings. He would come to accept the truth—though seeing him now, after what happened after his surgery, how he’d ordered her to leave as if she were one of his soldiers … that had hurt. She tried to tell herself it didn’t, but it had. How was she going to get through to him?