The River Girls

by Melinda Woodhall

  Vinny turned and stared with dead eyes into the night beyond his window. The rain had stopped, and a few bright lights appeared to float in the black sky.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Reggie pulled onto Gladstone Drive and parked in front of a modest white house. She opened the door of the Mini Cooper to let Duke out of the backseat and smiled when she saw Milo jump out after him. The smaller dog had taken to Duke right away and followed him, tail wagging, wherever he went.

  Eden climbed out of the passenger seat and joined Reggie on the sidewalk. She surveyed the house, eyes resting on the flowering Magnolia tree in the front yard and the cheerful blue shutters framing the windows.

  “This is nice, Reggie. You did good.” But even as Eden murmured her approval, her eyes returned to the quiet street, scanning for suspicious cars or people lurking nearby.

  Reggie took Eden’s hand and squeezed. She knew that even though Trevor Bane and Detective Reinhardt were dead, and Vinny was now in jail, Eden was still jumpy, still paranoid that someone would be following her. She wasn’t going to have an easy path to recovery, but she was on her way, and today’s visit might help.

  Duke and Milo trotted toward the front porch, and Reggie followed. Before she could knock, a balding man in a gray polo shirt and khaki pants opened the door. He smiled at Reggie and beamed down at the two golden retrievers.

  “Morning, Quinn,” Reggie said, relieved to see the security company had sent over a familiar face. Oliver Quinn had worked for the foundation before. He was well prepared to deal with dangerous stalkers and violent abusers. In this case, he was standing watch over Stacey Moore, along with her mother and little brother.

  Although Buddy Jones was no longer a threat to the family, some of the men from the Old Canal Motel operation were still on the loose. They knew Stacey would be able to identify them, and that meant she could still be in danger.

  “Good morning, Dr. Horn,” Quinn responded, bending down to scratch both of the dogs behind their silky ears. He looked over at Eden, who had stepped into the house after Reggie. “How are you holding up, Ms. Winthrop?”

  “I’m good, Quinn,” Eden said, smiling as she watched the dogs enjoying the attention. “Everything okay here?”

  Quinn nodded. “Things have been quiet so far. But I’m keeping my guard up, and we have cameras on the street and backyard.”

  Trisha Moore appeared in the doorway, her thin, strained face breaking into a smile when she saw Reggie and Eden. She crossed the room and hugged each of them tightly, then turned to call into the other room.

  “Zane, come out here, honey, you’ve got visitors!” She looked at Reggie with a grateful smile.

  A small boy with bright red hair darted into the front room and crashed into his mother’s legs. He wrapped his arms around her waist and looked over at Reggie and Eden with scared eyes.

  “You remember Dr. Horn, don’t you, Zane?” Trisha prompted, as Zane buried his face against her stomach. “And Ms. Winthrop?”

  “Hi, Zane. You know, I was just wondering about something.” Reggie knelt in front of the boy and smiled. “Do you like dogs?”

  Zane nodded and looked over at the dogs still sitting at Quinn’s feet. Reggie saw his blue eyes follow Milo as he jostled for position next to Duke.

  “The big one is named Duke, and the smaller one is Milo,” Reggie said, and both dogs turned interested eyes toward Reggie upon hearing her say their names.

  Trisha pulled Zane’s arms from around her waist and nodded toward the dogs. “Go on, Zane. Say hello to Duke and Milo.”

  For a minute Reggie worried that Zane would turn and run out of the room, but then she saw him begin to take tentative steps forward. As he got closer, he held out a small hand.

  “Hi there, Duke. Hi there, Milo.” His voice was high-pitched and gentle, and both dogs wagged their tails and sniffed at his hand. Soon Zane was kneeling between them, stroking their golden fur and talking in a happy tone.

  “Quinn, can you keep an eye on Zane and his new friends if they go play in the backyard?” Reggie asked.

  She opened her purse and pulled out a small bag of dog treats and handed them to Zane. “Take these as well.”

  Once Zane had followed the two wagging tails out of the room, Reggie turned back to Trisha.

  “So, how are you doing?” she asked. “And how is Stacey?”

  Trisha swallowed hard. “I’m doing okay, I guess. Mainly worried about Stacey. She acts tough, but I can tell she’s suffering. She’s been having nightmares; we all have.”

  “Has she been asked to testify against the men arrested so far?” Reggie asked. She knew several men had been taken into custody at the Old Canal Motel the night Hope had been rescued.

  “They asked her to identify the men in some pictures,” Trisha said, biting her lip. “She was able to pick out the men in custody, so the next step is an actual line-up at the jail, but she’s scared.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Eden spoke up. “It won’t be easy for her to see the men that exploited and threatened her.”

  “Well, the local police have brought in the FBI. And one of the agents said he can get our family into the witness protection program if Stacey agrees to testify.”

  Trisha looked over her shoulder, as if Stacey might be at the door listening. “The men worked for a group in Miami that’s already under investigation. Organized crime the agent called it.”

  Reggie shuddered at the image Trisha’s words raised. Grown men working together to organize the capture and assault of young girls. It was appalling, and she felt a burning hatred rise inside her at the thought of the men profiting from the trafficked girls.

  “She has to testify if she can help put those bastards away,” Reggie found herself saying, her words uncharacteristically bitter.

  Trisha’s eyes widened at Reggie’s tone, but then she sighed and nodded. “That’s what I told her. There are other girls out there now, and they’re suffering the same fate she just escaped. She can’t just turn her back if she can help them.”

  Trisha sank into an armchair with a deep sigh. “Besides, they may be after us as well. That dirty cop, Detective Reinhardt, they think he sent the guy that killed Buddy, and that he was connected with the group in Miami. So, who knows who may come knocking next, wanting to shut Stacey up.”

  Reggie hesitated, then said, “I don’t want to upset you, but can you tell me about Buddy? I mean, I know he was shot and killed, but why was he at your house to begin with? I thought you were hiding from him.”

  Trisha looked down at her hands. “What can I say? I was an idiot. Buddy requested to speak with me as part of his rehabilitation plan. To admit he had hurt me and apologize. Kind of like the twelve-step program for abusers I guess. The jail counselor contacted me through the court, and I agreed to meet him in a supervised setting. After that I wanted to give him a second chance. I thought he’d changed.”

  “And had he?” Reggie asked, her voice gentle.

  “At first it seemed like it. I think he did try. But no, he didn’t change. Not really. By the time Stacey came home, he was back to the old ways. Drinking and hitting out whenever he got mad.”

  Trisha blinked hard, her eyes wet. She turned to Eden.

  “I was too ashamed to come back to Mercy Harbor asking for help again. I mean, you guys helped me once already, and I just screwed everything up again.”

  “We would never have judged you,” Eden said, her eyes sad. “Only you know what really happened, and why you made the decisions you made.”

  “In the end I guess Buddy actually helped save us,” Trisha said, looking up at Reggie. “You could say that he took a bullet for us. Even if he didn’t intend to. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. At least for him. But that extra few minutes the shooter took to get through Buddy gave me time to get my gun. That allowed me to hold off the guy until Detective Jankowski could show up.”

  “Thank goodness the police showed up in time,” Reggie said. “Yo
u must be very grateful.”

  “Yes, Detective Jankowski saved my life, and saved my children. There’s no way I can ever thank him enough,” Trisha said, allowing a small smile to appear. “Although I’d love to try. He is a fine-looking man.”

  Reggie stared at Trisha in surprise and then let out a giggle. “He is a hunk, isn’t he?”

  “When I first met him, I thought he was very rude,” Eden said, before raising her eyebrows and grinning. “But now I know, underneath that tough attitude, he’s just a teddy bear.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” Reggie laughed, “but we do owe him a lot.”

  Reggie studied Eden’s face, enjoying the happy blush that had appeared. It made her look young and vibrant and pretty enough to turn any man’s head. Reggie’s optimism wilted as she remembered the way Leo Steele had looked at Eden.

  It was obvious that he was more than a little interested. And the handsome womanizer might make Eden happy for a little while, if given the chance, but Reggie wanted something more for her friend. Eden deserved a good man. A man like her Wayne. A man you could live and die for. Not a man who would be gone when the next pretty face walked by.

  “Eden?” Stacey stood in the doorway, tears in her eyes. Her platinum curls had been restyled into a light brown bob.

  “You don’t know how glad I am to see you,” Eden said, holding out her arms. Reggie felt her own eyes well up as she watched Eden comfort the weeping girl.

  Then Eden spoke in a soft voice. “I’m sorry I let them find you, Stacey. I tried so hard to protect you.”

  “No, you saved me. And you saved my family. If it wasn’t for you, no one would have even known to look for me,” Stacey insisted. “Sig, I mean Detective Reinhardt, would have found me eventually, and he would have killed me and my family.”

  Stacy looked down and bit her lip, then used the back of her hand to wipe away tears. “I just feel so guilty that I almost got Zane killed,” she whispered. “I’ve been so selfish. So stupid.”

  “There’s no use thinking like that.” Eden looked into Stacey’s eyes and held her gaze. “Blaming yourself won’t help anything. Just make sure you use what you’ve learned to help others. That’s the only thing that’s gotten me through the tough times.”

  Reggie’s heart swelled with emotion. It had taken her friend a long time to get to the place where she could believe those words. She felt a surge of relief. Eden was going to be all right after all.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Stacey walked to the window and looked out onto the quiet street. Although she’d escaped from the motel room weeks ago, part of her still felt like a prisoner. She knew there were still men out there who would silence her if they got the chance, or perhaps even try to take revenge for what they must see as a betrayal, but the true force that kept her hiding behind locked doors was her own fear.

  As she watched, a small gray bird settled onto a branch of the Magnolia tree, its head cocked to one side as if listening to a silent tune. Delicate white flowers trembled as the bird fluttered away, and Stacey felt a wave of sadness. Something deep inside of her had changed; she was no longer the innocent, trusting girl she’d once been.

  Somehow, she was going to have to learn to trust again. She had lost faith in everyone besides the few people that were with her in the little house. And, worst of all, she had lost faith in herself.

  She wondered if she would ever be able to forgive herself for the foolish choices she’d made. For putting her family in danger. Could she ever learn to trust her instincts again?

  Stacey turned toward the room and saw Eden watching her. The woman’s bright green eyes looked thoughtful, and Stacey wondered what had happened to Eden that caused her to dedicate her life to helping strangers. Maybe she too was trying to earn her own forgiveness.

  “Why don’t you go into the backyard and meet Zane’s new friends,” Reggie said, a mischievous look in her eye. “I’m thinking you and your little brother could use a new friend right about now.”

  Stacey heard laughter as she stepped through the back door. Zane was running beside a small golden retriever, a smile on his face and a stick in his little hand.

  “Get the stick, Milo,” Zane called out. The joy in his voice was contagious, and Stacey couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her own face as he threw the stick across the thick green lawn and squealed in delight.

  Oliver Quinn sat in a lawn chair wiping sweat off his face with a big hand. The summer day was hot, and he looked a bit red in the cheeks. He waved over at Stacey but left her to her own thoughts as she sat down on the top step and wrapped her arms around her knees.

  It was good to see Zane happy, and to know her mother was safe inside. It was good to know that Buddy would never hit her mother again, and that she would never have to go back to the horror of the motel. As the sun soaked into her skin, she felt her shoulders relax and the tension in her neck soften.

  The back door opened, and Eden sat down on the step next to her. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just sat and watched Zane and the dogs.

  “Looks like Zane and Milo are getting along,” Eden finally said. “My dog, Duke, he’s been a real comfort to me in the last few years. He’s what you call an ESA, which means he’s an emotional support animal. Milo is an ESA, too.”

  “Yeah? Well, Zane seems really happy. Thanks for bringing the dogs.” Stacey bit her lip and glanced over at Eden. “Can I ask you a question? I mean, if it’s too personal you don’t have to answer.”

  “Sure,” Eden said. “Ask me anything you want.”

  “What happened to you?” Stacey asked, not daring to meet Eden’s eyes. “I mean, why do you try to help people, and why do you need a support dog?’

  Eden paused, and Stacey felt a rush of embarrassment. She’d gone too far. But then Eden cleared her throat and said in a soft voice,

  “My younger sister, Mercy, was killed almost five years ago. Her husband shot her, and I…I found her. After that I started having panic attacks and lots of anxiety. Duke helped me cope.”

  Stacey wanted to say something to comfort Eden, but her throat felt tight, and she just listened.

  “I felt guilty that I hadn’t saved Mercy,” Eden continued, “and I wanted to do something to…to make up for it. I wanted to help save other women, because that would make me feel better about myself, I guess.”

  “That makes sense,” Stacey said, wishing she had a plan to make herself feel better.

  “I hear you may be going into the witness protection program.” Eden looked over at Stacey and held her gaze. “How are you feeling about that? You scared?”

  “A little,” Stacey admitted. “But also a little relieved. I want my mom and Zane to be safe, so I’m glad someone’s going to be watching out for them. And I want to help stop these guys from doing the same thing to other girls. I keep thinking about Jess and Brandi, and the other girls I left back in the motel.”

  “And what about you?” Eden asked. “What do you want for yourself?”

  “I don’t know,” Star murmured, looking down at her feet. “I guess I just want to feel okay again. To not feel ashamed or scared. That’s about it right now.”

  “Hey Stacey, look at me!” Zane raced ahead of Milo to touch the fence. He jumped up and down in glee. “I won! I won!”

  “Good job, Squirt!” Stacey yelled back as the door again opened behind her.

  “What’s all the commotion about?” Reggie asked. “Zane enjoying his new dog a little too much?”

  “His dog?” Stacey looked around at Reggie with wide eyes. “You mean you’re giving that dog to Zane?”

  “Yep, I’ve already gotten approval from your mom. Milo is now part of your family,” Reggie said, a smile lighting up her eyes. “He’s a good little guy and he needs a family to love and take care of.”

  “Why don’t you go tell Zane the good news,” Eden prompted, her hand warm on Stacey’s shoulder.

  And as Stacey ran across the grass, the suns
hine warm in her hair, she felt her eyes well with tears, and for the first time in a long time, they were the happy kind.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Nessa winced as she lowered herself into the lawn chair next to Pete Barker, silently cursing her cracked and bruised ribs. She slid on her sunglasses and tried to distract herself from the ache in her chest by counting backward from one hundred by sevens. That was the test the doctors had used after she’d been shot to determine if the head injury she’d sustained had caused brain trauma. She’d gotten to sixty-five before she’d given up and pretended to doze off. She’d never been good at math anyway.

  “I’m the one who’s had a heart attack and angioplasty,” Barker said with a raised eyebrow. “So how come you’re the one with chest pains.”

  “No, you had a myocardial infarction. That’s what you told me before. You said it’s not really a heart attack.” Nessa ran an irritable hand through her newly close-cropped curls and paused to rub a still-tender patch of stubble. Her head injury had been serious enough to require the medics to shave a patch of skin around the wound.

  “And you were wearing a bulletproof vest, so you weren’t really shot,” Barker replied, earning a glare from Nessa. His tone softened. “I guess that means neither of us have an excuse to sit around here slacking off anymore.”

  “I’m going back to work as soon as I get the doc’s sign-off,” Nessa assured him. “I can’t stand sitting around and twiddling my thumbs with everything that’s going on.”

  “So, in the meantime you thought you’d twiddle your thumbs with me?” Barker asked. “I don’t mind the free time too much, really. Gives me time to think.”

  “Actually, I’m here because I had questions about a couple of your old cases.”

  Nessa took off her sunglasses and turned to Barker. He looked pretty good. The heart stent and all the rest he’d gotten had brought some color back into his skin.

  “Oh, yeah?” Barker stretched and yawned. “Which ones you been thinking about?”