by Blake Pierce
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Really?” she asked. “That’s pretty sad. It shouldn’t be. I’ve never told you that you’re kind?”
“I don’t think so,” he said.
“Or unfathomably brave?”
“I’d remember that,” he assured her.
“Or dangerously attractive?”
There was a long silence as she saw him process her words. She watched him, acutely aware of the Kung Pao scent wafting through the room. She breathed it in, suddenly cognizant of all her surroundings.
She noticed how her floor lamp in the corner cast shadows across the room. She noticed that the dust on her coffee table was disturbingly thick. And she noticed that despite the cold weather, a bead of sweat was rolling down Ray’s forehead at the same speed as a drop of condensation on the glass of water he was holding.
“What are you doing, Keri?” he finally asked.
“I’m sorry for the other day,” she said. “In the car. I was scared.”
“You’re not scared now?” he asked.
“No,” she said. And somehow she wasn’t. She could sense his taut, wired body pulsating with nervous energy. And yet she felt calm, completely, almost lazily at ease.
“What’s changed?” he asked, still hesitant despite himself.
“Maybe it’s because I’ve been suspended,” she murmured, leaning in close to him, feeling as confident as she ever had in her life. “We’re not co-workers anymore.”
“What happens when you get your badge back?” he asked, but with less hesitancy than before.
“I’ll cross that bridge,” she said, pausing to brush his lips lightly with her own, “when I come to it.”
They sat there, inches apart, frozen in space and time, for the longest second of Keri’s life. And then, without another thought, she kissed him again, this time firmly and deeply. He didn’t hesitate anymore, and pulled her toward him, pausing only to brush the hair out her eyes so he could get a better look at her.
Something about that made the blood rise in her and before she knew it, she had pushed him down onto the couch and climbed on top of him, never allowing their lips to part for more than a moment. Ray tried to put his glass of water on the coffee table but missed completely. Keri heard it topple down on the floor and shatter. She didn’t care.
*
When Keri woke up the next morning, she discovered that she was in her bed. Then she remembered that after the couch, and the kitchen table, the bed was where she and Ray had eventually ended up.
She glanced at her bedside clock. It was after 8 a.m. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten up so late. She rolled over in bed to find that she was alone. Sitting up, she listened for any noise from the bathroom.
“Ray?” she called out. There was no response. She got up, put on her robe, and walked out into the living room. She couldn’t tell if the goose bumps she felt all over were due to nervousness or the chill in the morning air.
“Ray, where are you?” she asked even though there were really only two rooms he could be in and if he wasn’t in one of them, he wasn’t here.
A hint of worry crept into the back of her brain, even though she knew it was ridiculous. Had he bailed? She noticed that the broken glass by the couch had been cleaned up.
Did he clean up the glass and then leave?
She was just shaking the thought from her head when the front door opened and Ray walked in. He was holding a tray with two coffees from the place down the street.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said, a broad smile on his face. “I would have left a note, but I couldn’t find a pen. Or any paper.”
“I figured,” she lied, taking the coffee. Feeling shyer than last night she asked, “How are you?”
“I’m very, very good,” he said goofily. “I haven’t been this good in a long time. How are you?”
“I’m also quite good,” she said. “You’ve performed a valuable service to a lady in need. You’re free to go now.”
His face dropped and she knew she couldn’t continue messing with him.
“Are you always going to be this easy to tease?” she asked.
His smile returned immediately.
“I think you owe me for that,” he said playfully.
“Owe? What do I owe you?”
“I can think of something,” he replied, moving toward her.
He was leaning to kiss her when her cell phone rang. She recognized the ringtone. It was Susan Granger, the fourteen-year-old teenage prostitute she’d rescued from her pimp and gotten placed in Rita Skraeling’s group girls’ home.
Ray must have seen something in her eyes because he pulled back.
“I don’t know who that is, but I can tell you need to answer it.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. “It can probably wait.”
“No. It will be eating at you. Answer it.”
She didn’t need to be told twice.
“Hi, Susan. It’s Keri Locke. Is everything okay?”
“Hi, Detective Locke. I’m sorry to call you but it’s kind of important,” she said. Keri could hear the tension in her voice.
“What is it, sweetie?”
“You know that girl your friend, Ms. Merrywether, brought over yesterday, the one who you found in that warehouse brothel?”
“Yes, of course,” Keri said.
“She wants you to come over here. She says she has information about your daughter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
When Keri pulled up in front of the group home, it was almost 9 a.m. After she’d gotten the call from Susan, Ray had immediately dropped her off at her car next to the lagoon and she’d headed straight to the home, taking the back way by the beach along Vista del Mar to avoid the rush hour traffic. Rita Skraeling was waiting for her at the front door when she arrived.
“Her name is Darla—she’s thirteen,” Rita rasped, as they walked down the long hallway to the bedroom area. “She was hesitant to say anything at first. But Susan got her to open up. She mentioned how a man had come in just before you asking about a girl named Evie. When Susan heard that, she pressed and…well, I’ll just let her tell you. She knows more details than I do anyway.”
They came to a closed bedroom door at the end of the hall. Rita knocked.
“This is Ms. Skraeling,” she said. “May I please come in?”
Keri looked at her, surprised at the normally guff woman’s formal demeanor.
“We’re trying to reestablish boundaries for them; let them know they are entitled to personal space, both with their bodies and their surroundings.”
After a moment, a familiar voice responded.
“Please come in,” Susan said.
Rita opened the door and they stepped inside. The room had two full beds. Susan was sprawled casually on one of them, next to another girl, who was hunched over, sitting cross-legged and hugging herself. It was the girl from the warehouse, Darla. She’d been so unresponsive before that Keri hadn’t even learned her name. She decided to focus on Susan to try to set the other girl at ease.
“Hey, Susan. How’s it going? Read any new Nancy Drew lately?” she asked, referring to the book series. Susan had become obsessed with them and loved discussing each one after she finished. Keri found it a challenge to finish them in time for their weekly get-togethers.
“Hi, Detective. I actually finished the latest the day before yesterday. I’m ready to talk about it whenever you are, although maybe not today.”
Keri once again marveled at how the terrified girl she found on the street in the middle of the night only months ago was now brimming with such confidence, totally comfortable in her surroundings. Her blonde hair hung in curly ringlets around her shoulders and she wore a powder blue T-shirt that said “Grrrl Power” in big, bold letters.
“Yeah, let’s hold off,” she agreed. “I’m a little behind anyway. I see you’ve got company.”
“Yeah, I’m sure
you remember Darla. You got her placed here after you helped her get away from the situation yesterday.”
Keri was impressed with how Susan did her best to avoid triggering any bad memories for Darla by keeping her language non-specific. She had said on multiple occasions that she wanted to be a cop and Keri could almost imagine her in a blue uniform even now. She stifled the urge to smile.
“Of course I remember Darla. Good to see you again.”
Darla glanced up briefly to acknowledge Keri before returning her focus to her lap. The girl was unfathomably pale, as if she hadn’t been exposed to sunlight in months. Her black hair had clearly been washed last night but it hung in long, stringy ropes that dangled down, covering the black sweatpants she wore.
“Well, anyway,” Susan began, “Darla and I got to talking this morning and she mentioned that a man came in yesterday just before you did and he was asking about a blonde girl named Evie. Do you know that guy?”
“Yes, he’s a friend of mine named Uriel. I asked him to go in there and check around because I’d heard that my daughter might be inside and I hoped he could find out.”
“Well, Darla heard what he said. And then when you came in later and asked about her too, she recognized you from TV and realized that the Evie he was asking about was your daughter.”
“Is that right, Darla?” Keri asked, trying to engage the reticent girl.
Darla nodded without looking up. Then in a quiet voice, almost a whisper, she spoke.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything yesterday. I was too scared to talk in front of the others. But I felt bad later. So I knew I had to tell you. I saw her.”
Keri felt the blood drain from her face. Susan saw it too and held up a hand, as if to say, “stay cool.” Keri took a deep breath and forced herself to speak calmly, as if her question was no big deal.
“Darla, did you say you saw my daughter, Evie, in the warehouse?”
Darla nodded again and added in another near-whisper, “Not that day; the day before. They took her away the day before.”
“Did they say where they were taking her?” Keri asked in as measured a voice as she could muster.
“I don’t want to say,” Darla muttered.
Keri opened her mouth and was about to speak when she felt Rita Skraeling’s hand gently touch her forearm.
“Easy,” she mouthed silently.
Keri swallowed hard, trying not to let the strain she felt leak into her voice. But before she could say anything else, Susan rescued her again.
“Detective Locke, I think what Darla’s worried about is, she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. What she has to tell you is sad and she doesn’t want the person who saved her to be sad. Is that right, Darla?”
Darla nodded and Susan pressed on.
“But what I told her was that you deal with sad stuff every day. You find girls like me and her every day. And even if it makes you sad, it doesn’t stop you from doing it again the next day. Sad is part of the job.”
“That’s true,” Keri agreed, feeling a gut punch as she remembered that sad wasn’t part of her job anymore because she didn’t have a job.
“I told Darla,” Susan continued, “that what makes the sad worthwhile are the happy moments, when you are able to get a kid back to a family that loves them, like that girl Sarah, the one you found in Mexico.”
“Yes,” Keri said, following along because Susan seemed to know what she was doing and because she was worried the rawness of losing the chance to help girls like this might overwhelm her. “That was a happy moment.”
“So I told Darla that anything she can tell you that might give you a chance to find your daughter would be good, even if part of it made you sad.”
“Susan’s right, Darla,” Keri agreed. “If there’s anything you can tell me, I’d really appreciate it. I won’t be angry that you told me something sad. You didn’t cause any of this. It’s not your fault. Please don’t be afraid to tell me.”
Darla seemed to stop breathing. Keri worried that she’d pushed too hard even though she felt she’d barely pushed at all. But just when she was about to give up, Darla raised her head and stared directly at her with her devastated, dark eyes.
“The main man who took her said she was a good catch, because she was feisty and because she was the lady cop’s daughter. It makes her more of a prize, like anyone who gets her is actually punishing you. So she’s really expensive. They were going to upgrade her to a Hill House Party.”
“What does that mean, a Hill House Party?” Keri asked.
Susan jumped in. “They’re like the warehouses, lots of girls for sale, but high-end. They use a fancy house in the Hollywood Hills and bring in rich guys, who will pay way more than the warehouse prices.”
“How do you know about these?” Keri asked her, trying to keep the horror out of her voice.
“I was taken to one when I was younger,” Susan answered. “I think I was eleven. They said I was fresh so I was valuable. But I guess I wasn’t so fresh after that because I was never taken back.”
“Have you ever been to one of these?” Keri asked Darla, who shook her head. “Do you know how to find them?”
Darla didn’t answer so Keri looked at Susan.
“They’re pop-ups, also like the warehouses, so not even the clients know where they are until they get a text a few hours beforehand. Sometimes they have a few in a week. Sometimes they go months between parties if they think Vice is onto them.”
“So there’s no way to know where she’ll be or when,” Keri said, frustrated.
Susan looked at her, then at Darla. Finally she spoke.
“Tell her, Darla.”
Keri bit her tongue, fighting the urge to shake the girl. Darla seemed to be screwing up her courage. Appearing to find it, she lifted her head again.
“I heard them say they were taking her to the Vista and that your daughter was the Blood Prize.”
Keri’s blood went cold and her fingers began to tingle.
“What does that mean? What do you mean, Blood Prize?”
Darla’s head was back down again and she seemed to be shaking. Keri looked at Susan, who had tears in her eyes as she spoke.
“The Vista is the name for the biggest Hill House Party there is. They only do it once a year. They never announce when. It could be tomorrow. It could be in six months. And the Blood Prize is the biggest prize of the night. They auction her off. Whoever pays the most gets to be with her and then…” She trailed off.
“What?” Keri demanded.
“He gets to kill her afterward. He slices her throat, at the stroke of midnight, right there in front of everyone.”
A heavy silence filled the room. Susan lowered her head. Not even Rita Skraeling could make eye contact.
Keri suddenly felt dizzy and weak. Her skin was clammy. Her eyes fluttered and then closed involuntarily. Her legs buckled and she sensed that she was falling. She reached out for the wall but felt only empty air.
As she started to go down, she felt arms, four of them, all strong, grab her and keep her upright. She managed to open her eyes slightly and saw that the arms had dragged her over to the other bed in the room and that she was lying on her back. Both Susan and Rita Skraeling hovered over her, worried looks on their faces.
“I’m going to get you some water,” Rita said, and then turned to Susan. “Sit with her and hold her hand until I get back.”
A moment later Rita was gone and all Keri could see was Susan’s face. She felt the girl gently stroking her arm with one hand and squeezing her hand with the other. There was a look in her eyes that Keri couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t kindness or even sympathy really. And then she identified what it was: determination.
As if to confirm it, Susan leaned and whispered quietly in Keri’s ear.
“I have a plan.”
Keri’s eyes widened with surprise. She still felt dizzy and out of it and wasn’t sure she’d heard the girl correctly.
“Wha…?”
>
“Just listen. I’m going to find out where and when Vista is. And when I do, I’ll let you know.”
“How?” she asked, the words sounding funny on her numb lips.
“I’m going to go undercover. I’m going to get back into hooking and find a way to get invited to Vista. It’s the only way. Otherwise, by the time you find out about it, it will be too late.”
“Nooo…”
“Shhh. Rest. Ms. Skraeling’s bringing the water. You’ll feel better in a minute.”
It took several minutes but after some water and a few cookies, Keri did feel better. When she was able to stand up, she thanked Darla for the information and walked with Susan and Ms. Skraeling back down the hall.
“Rita, do you mind if I have a word privately with Susan?” she asked.
“Of course not, if that’s all right with her.”
“Sure,” Susan said, seeming to have expected this. “Why don’t we go to the library?”
The library was really just a sun room with a couple of shelves filled with books, a loveseat, and two beanbags. They sat down together on the loveseat. Before Keri could say anything, Susan launched in.
“Don’t worry, Detective. I’m not really going to do what I said. I’m not crazy.”
“Then why did you say it?” Keri asked, unconvinced.
“I saw how hurt you were and the idea just popped into my head. But I know now that it’s not something that could really happen. I mean, even if I was serious, what are the chances I’d actually get in? Pretty much zero. I may have read one Nancy Drew book too many.”
Keri studied the girl’s face. She seemed sincere. But girls who’d learned to survive on the streets were skilled at making people believe what they wanted. Keri was usually pretty good at seeing through such facades. But she wasn’t usually this emotionally compromised.
“But,” Susan continued, “I would like to reach out to some girls I used to know to find out if they’ve heard anything. I know it’s a long shot but if anyone has a lead, it’s worth following, don’t you think?”
“I guess you can do that,” Keri said reluctantly, feeling as if even that might be too much, “if Ms. Skraeling says it’s okay. But nothing beyond that, okay?”
