by Regan Black
“Yes, that’s correct.” As Trina spoke, she felt Rob’s gaze on her and knew what he was thinking. He was asking that same damned question about why she chose law enforcement when she was a single mother. “And while some people might not understand why I’d take a job that involves some dangerous situations, law enforcement is my calling. I realized that during the war. Even though I was a pilot, I felt that I was doing something actively to bring justice to a part of the world that hasn’t experienced it in a long while. And if we’re going to talk about danger or life-threatening, simply driving to work on the interstate or turnpike can turn deadly in a heartbeat. I can’t live in fear, and I’m not raising my son to live a fear-based life, either.” Her voice shook with her conviction, and she forced herself to take several deep, slow breaths. Claudia was going to kick her off the TH team before she ever got started.
“I commend your resolve, Trina. And I’m grateful for your expertise. So, are you both on board for this mission? Together?”
Trina looked at Rob and found him staring at her, his brows lifted in expectation. He was leaving it up to her.
“Yes, of course. But how are we going to infiltrate this group of girls? The truck stop or strip club or both? Will I go undercover as one of them?” She imagined having to explain to Jake why Mommy had false eyelashes and heavy makeup on.
“We have a lead on that.” Claudia rose off the desk and walked around to her executive chair, sitting to pull a three files from a small, neat stack. “Here you go.” She handed them each one and opened her file. “The Silver Valley Community Church has an outreach program for human trafficking. Mostly, it deals with young women who came here under the guise of becoming nannies or housekeepers, but they end up working in the sex trade. They take hot meals and goodie bags with coupons, gift certificates and such into the strip club once a week, at lunchtime. The owner allows it and actually encourages the girls to attend. He didn’t have any part in the women coming into the country per se. He does employ them now, though, and wants to give the appearance of cooperating with ‘helping’ these young women. The owner doesn’t want to get caught breaking the law, and if any of the girls admits she’s underage, or of age and wants out of the adult entertainment industry, he doesn’t fight it. SVCC has volunteer families that take the girls in until they can be situated in regular jobs or college, working with a social worker.” Claudia waited while they looked at their copies.
“Doesn’t he lose all of his dancers this way?” Trina thought women would jump at the chance to get out of the adult entertainment industry.
“No. They’re afraid of losing what they have—a decent paying job and a place to live. It’s what they know, and safer than what they went through when they were transported here.”
“What about the truck stop?” Trina couldn’t get past the image of teenage girls having to turn tricks for aging truckers, risking their lives each time.
“That’s a little more difficult, as the abused women know how to evade any kind of arrest. SVCC goes in every now and then and sets up a table outside with sandwiches and hot drinks, cold in the summer. Every now and then they convince one of the women to get help and escape their basic enslavement, but it’s not easy. These are women who’ve been so abused they fear any change. It seems incomprehensible to us, as we know they’ll have a better life going forward, away from how they were trafficked into the country. But they’re in pure survival mode. We have had more success lately, however, as social media helps get the word out to the most disenfranchised that assistance is available.”
“The women risk going up to the table?”
“Sure. They see the same volunteers there, week after week, and feel more comfortable around them. Don’t forget the truck stops are also good places for the homeless to find a free meal. The church outreach groups also feed the homeless. Not all truckers are looking for sex on their rest time. Many work with the outreach program and pay for meals for the homeless. Many truckers dine with the homeless, when the homeless agree to it. Several other churches in the area reach out to the homeless at many different waypoints. The truck stops are a main location.”
“Why are you telling us about the SVCC outreach, Claudia?” Rob’s voice sounded rough. Something about this wasn’t making him happy. Did he not want to work with her again? He’d seemed eager enough when he’d walked in here.
“Trina, you’re familiar with SVCC, right?”
Trina held back a smile. There was nothing that TH didn’t find out or know about its agents. “Yes, it’s my parents’ place of worship when they’re in town. My brother and I go with them on the major holidays.” And that was becoming more often as Jake grew and Trina wanted to give him some kind of spiritual basis on which to form an opinion. She was all for letting Jake choose his own religion as an adult but felt as his mother she needed to expose him to something regularly while he was young.
“Then it wouldn’t be unreasonable for you and Rob to attend church there, behaving as, say, an engaged couple with a son?”
Trina sucked in her breath. “Are you sure this is a super classified law enforcement agency, Claudia? Because it sounds like a dating service on steroids.”
Claudia laughed and so did Rob, although his sounded more like an expression of relief that Trina had said what perhaps he hadn’t wanted to.
He was being extra careful, she thought. He was afraid she’d tell him he couldn’t see Jake again, which was ridiculous. And maybe even a little worried she wanted more from him than he was willing to give. Rob would probably always have these kind of concerns, coming from the foster system. It made her care about him even more, because with each breath he was overcoming his past.
“What you two decide to do about your arrangement is none of my business.” Claudia’s high color indicated that maybe she was fibbing, just a bit. “But I think you’ll be able to pull off being a couple, right?”
Trina looked at Rob, who was staring at the file on his lap. His tension was obvious in the way he gripped the chair arms. “Why a church, Claudia? Can’t we pose as social workers?”
“I know you’re not a fan of churches, Rob, but I think you’ll see that SVCC is how a church is meant to be. Nothing like what you experienced in your foster home.” She spoke firmly but with compassion.
Trina’s heart pumped nothing but compassion for Rob. He’d mentioned he’d grown up in foster care, that his biological parents had died of drug overdoses when he was only five.
The same age as Jake.
Rob’s foster parents had been churchgoers in the strictest sense, and he’d been forced to follow black-and-white rules to the point of abuse. He’d survived that time in his life and told her his happiest moment was when he’d enlisted in the Navy. He’d quickly been moved to officer candidate school and then to SEAL training. And never looked back, never cared to see his foster parents again.
It crystallized like old honey in her mind—Rob wanted to be a father to Jake because he hadn’t had one. Rob didn’t want to fail Jake the way he’d been failed.
And in Rob’s eyes, he’d already failed Jake by walking away five years ago and never even considering Jake could have been his son.
“It’ll be fine, Rob. We can be the couple that doesn’t have a lot of time for church but wants to make a difference, so we sign up to be on the rotation for the strip club lunch meals. We’ll offer to go to the truck stop together, too. Most couples with families probably don’t want to spend prime time at the truck stop trying to draw in sex workers, I’m thinking.”
Claudia shot her a grateful look.
Rob’s expression was stony. “I’ll do whatever the mission requires.”
“Great.” Claudia looked pleased as a groundhog in a vegetable garden. “So, not to rush you, but time is of the essence. We have to get these girls off their jobs quickly, before the ROC group thinks they’re making a major profit. The third Wednesday of the month
happens to be the morning the SVCC hosts its welcome reception for new volunteers on any of their committees. That unfortunately was yesterday. I suggest you two wait until next month to sign up for the trafficked worker outreach group, so that you don’t look suspicious. In the meantime, attend SVCC services together. Become a staple couple in the community.”
“We’re supposed to blend in with all of these do-gooders?” Rob grumbled as if he were ten and being forced to endure a long, boring sermon. Trina stifled a giggle. After what they’d been through in less than a week, time with active, service-oriented people did sound a little sleepy.
Claudia smiled as she replied. “You’ll be joining the Community Hand Up group. Report back as necessary. And Trina, I’ve spoken to Corey. You’re free from going in to the Marshals office until we wrap this case. Keep training here, and you two coordinate daily on what intelligence reports come in regarding ROC and the smuggled sex workers. I trust you to know when to move in and break it all up.”
“Thank you, Claudia. I hope we get it solved quickly.” Trina didn’t have any idea how long she and Rob would need to wait to be able to save more underage girls, but she’d do whatever it took.
“You will.” Claudia sat with her hands on her desk, having obviously moved on mentally from their discussion. Trina couldn’t begin to imagine how much Claudia was responsible for.
“Let’s go.” Rob stood first, and Trina followed him out of the office and into the parking lot. Only in front of her car did he turn to face her, his face resigned.
“What’s bothering you so much, Rob?”
“A few things, but mostly it’s the fact that I want to spend all my free time getting to know my son. I was hoping we’d tell him who I am sooner rather than later. But now with this case, that might be postponed indefinitely.”
“It won’t be.” She decided to leap before thinking things through too much—her weakness had always been overanalyzing her actions. “Tell you what. We both need to eat dinner, right? How do you feel about hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill tonight? I have some fresh corn on the cob from the Amish market down the road, too.”
Rob’s eyes sparked with interest, the first positive sign she’d read from him since Claudia had mentioned the church involvement. “I’m not a charity case myself, Trina.”
“I didn’t say you were. My brother’s out of town this week, and I hate using the gas grill my parents gave me for Mother’s Day. Do you like to barbecue?”
“Are you kidding? I’m the best griller this side of the Susquehanna.”
CHAPTER 11
“Mom, can we give Rob the red corn holders?” Jake placed two corn holders on the counter as he rummaged in the kitchen junk drawer. “You have clear and I’ll have blue.”
“Sure, sweetie. Sounds good.” Trina was trying to stay present as she organized the kitchen for their impromptu barbecue. While she’d had the meal planned out well in advance, she hadn’t known Rob would be their guest. She had plenty of food for three, but would have made more of an effort than hot dogs and hamburgers for Rob.
“Hello?” Rob tapped on the back screen door, just as she’d suggested.
“Come in, come in!” Jake ran around in circles, Renegade yapping his puppy head off as he raced after Jake. Jake stopped in front of the door. Trina didn’t know whether to be glad that her son trusted Rob so much or worried that he’d let his guard down so quickly.
“Hey, buddy!” Rob knelt down to Jake’s eye level and the two fist-bumped and high-fived. Seeing Jake’s small hand against Rob’s massive paw made Trina’s heart lurch. Jake had Rob’s hands—it was one of the first things she’d noticed when Jake was born. He had the same crooked thumbs, the wide fingernails, as Rob. The memory made her wonder when or if Jake would ever observe that he had many of the same physical attributes as Rob. Would Jake ask about Rob being his dad before she or Rob told him?
Rob stood and produced a huge bouquet of daisies from behind his back. “These are for you. Thanks for having me.”
Unexpected joy leaped in her belly. “How nice. You didn’t have to do this, but I’m happy you did. Jake, can you please find a jar under the sink for these?” As Jake slammed open a cupboard, Trina looked at Rob. “I have nicer vases, but they’re in boxes. We’ve only been here a short time and I haven’t been able to get everything unpacked.”
“This is why I couldn’t find you at first.”
“Pardon?” The steely tone in her query wasn’t on purpose. It was as if she automatically put up barbed wire fences whenever Rob was nice to her.
“I tried to find where you lived, to come see you. Your apartment in Harrisburg was still listed in the database I used.”
“Oh. I mean, that’s understandable, that it still has the old address. But I thought TH was up-to-date on everything?”
“I used a regular civilian database. I paid ten bucks to find you. How’s that for a charming opening line?”
She couldn’t stop her smile. “Needs some polish, Bristol.”
“Is it hard for you to call me that?”
“Not at all. I keep telling myself it should be. But in reality you’re still the man I knew, and then, you’re not at all.”
“What other man?” Jake reached on his tippy-toes to place an antique mason jar on the counter, next to the platters of food.
“That happens to have been my name once. Here, let’s put the flowers on the table, away from the food. Unless you want them somewhere else?” Rob’s smooth reply and the need to please his son was stamped so deeply on his expression that Trina felt a corner of her heart melt in one smooth plop.
“That’s fine, or rather, how about on the plant shelves, over there by the window? The kitchen table’s pretty small when we all sit at it.”
“Got it.” Rob filled the jar with water, his forearm brushing hers in the most erotic kitchen foreplay imaginable. Trina focused on getting the salad finished. She and Rob had to establish a solid friendship again, for Jake’s sake. Her hormones needed to take a back seat. She let out a breath of relief when he moved across the room and placed the jar on the shelf, followed by the bouquet.
It’s not just your hormones.
“What can I do?” Rob was back at her side, looking over the plate of uncooked hamburgers.
“Go ahead and fire up the grill if you’d like, and let me know when you want the hot dogs.”
“I want my bun toasty!” Jake tugged at Rob’s dark blue T-shirt, a touching gesture that pulled at Trina’s composure.
“You’ve got it, buddy.”
“His name is Jake.”
“Mom, I like it when Rob calls me ‘buddy.”’
“Don’t worry, it’s always easier being the new guy.” Rob spoke quietly to her. He knew what she was thinking, that Jake had some serious hero worship going on. Rob apparently agreed. Their communication was mostly via eye contact and she remembered that this was why she’d taken so long to move on after she thought he’d died. Their unspoken connection by which they always seemed to understand one another. This had to be why she’d never fully accepted he was gone. Some tiny part of her had kept the flame of hope lit, believing he was still alive. As if she knew.
“You okay, Trina? You look like you saw a…ghost.”
“Stop. We can’t tiptoe around each other about this. Yes, it is like I saw a ghost. But you’re not—you’re here.”
“That I am.” Rob took the plate of hamburgers and the barbecue spatula she’d pulled out of the ceramic pot on the counter where she stored her kitchen utensils. “I’ll have these done in no time. Want to help me, bud—Jake?”
“Yeah!”
“Take Renegade with you. Use his leash!”
“Come here, Renegade.” Jake easily cajoled the puppy into the tiny harness. Trina shook her head as she washed the salad ingredients. That dang dog had made her run all over th
e house, chasing him, before she’d been able to leash him after work.
Jake chattered to Rob as they went out back, the screen door slamming against the weathered doorframe. There were plenty of upgrades Trina needed to have done in the old farmhouse, but a sliding glass door for the backyard and a walkout deck topped her list. The surrounding farm fields and rolling mountains were too beautiful to not make the most of the view.
“Here you go.” She joined them outside, carrying the hot dogs and buns.
“Perfect timing. We do work well together, Marshal Lopez.” She ignored Rob’s banter and looked around for Jake, who was on an old tire swing that hung from the humongous oak next to the house. Renegade sat on the porch and watched him, his leash fastened to a patio chair.
“You always have to know where he is, don’t you?” Rob flipped a burger.
“I’m his mother. It’s called parenting.”
“Whoa, it wasn’t a criticism. I meant it from a place of appreciation—it’s like you have a built-in radar.”
She watched him work over the hot grill, and the heat waves rippling between them mirrored her doubt that she’d ever be able to trust Rob fully with Jake. Trust that he would take care of Jake and not harm him; sure, that was a given. But the sense that Rob would disappear again weighed heavy on her heart.
“Talk to me, Trina.” His eyes slid to the side, and she knew he was watching Jake, too.
“I want to explain away your intense interest in Jake as part of the surprise of finding out you’ve had a child for the past five years.”
“But?”
“I know it’s deeper. You really do seem to care for Jake in that natural bonding way. It’s only been a few days and you have a rapport with him that’s taken me his entire lifetime.”
“First, I’m the shiny new dude around here. He’s a kid, Trina—he likes to have all the attention on him. Second, this isn’t something that’s going to wear off. Jake is my son, I’m his father.”
“It’s all been so fast.” She held the plate for Rob as he piled up the burgers. He opened the rolls and placed them on the grill’s highest shelf.
