"So they can't be traced," Amanda mused.
"Exactly. But there are other ways. My guess is he has a vehicle. There are many ways to go about that search. You said the Thaddeus couple have a police friend who's looking into this for them?"
"We do," Max assured him.
"Call him. Give him the guy's name and he'll contact someone in the Albuquerque PD and they can work together on this. Once we get an address, we'll figure out our next move. Gillian, what are you up to next?"
"I have a feeling, and I don't know why, but I'm going to visit some of the bead and natural stone stores in the morning."
"I've known you long enough to trust your instincts. I'll focus on what I can do. You follow your trail."
"And what are we supposed to do, twiddle our thumbs?" Max asked.
His question didn't daunt Jake. "Go along with Gillian. You can give her valuable information even if you don't think you can. Our finding Shara is a two-way street. There really is nothing more we can do tonight unless you want to go out and search the city, and I don't advise that. I know you're scared and worried, but scared and worried shouldn't add up to stupid."
Amanda saw Max grimace, and she knew Jake had hit a nerve. "Thank you, Mr. Donovan, " she said, "We appreciate all you're doing."
"Call me Jake. We're all going to be on a first-name basis until this is over. Keep in touch," he said, and then he ended the call.
"Jake doesn't waste time," Gillian said with a lift of her shoulder. "He can be excruciatingly blunt, but he's usually right. He has a son, so he knows what it is to care about children."
"So there really isn't anything else we can do tonight?" Max asked.
"Make your call to your friend in the police department, and then get some rest. Many of these shops open by nine a.m. so we can be on the road at eight thirty. We're going to discreetly show Shara's picture around. We don't want to alert this Justin that we're onto him."
"In other words, you're warning me not to stand on street corners, show the picture of Shara, and ask where my granddaughter is?"
"Exactly."
Apparently Max could see the sense of what Gillian was saying. He nodded. "I'm going to make that call." He went into the bedroom and shut the door.
"I'm sorry," Amanda said to Gillian.
"No apology is necessary. Everyone's under a lot of strain, and I know your husband doesn't trust what I do. I couldn't help you before. He doesn't think I can help you now."
Amanda gave a resigned sigh. "Thank you for understanding." Amanda had just closed the door on Gillian when her cell phone beeped. She ran to her purse and pulled it free. Checking the Caller ID, she saw the name Grove. Detective Grove. It was late back in Pennsylvania. Why would he be calling now?
"Hello?"
"Mrs. Thaddeus?"
"Yes."
"I tried to call your husband's number but his cell went to voice-mail and he didn't answer at his apartment."
"He's not at home. We're both in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Clare's daughter ran away and we've come out here to find her."
Grove let out a low whistle. "When it rains it pours. Then you're going to have to tell me what you want me to do about this."
"About what?"
"The woman we found that we think could be Lynn Thaddeus. I convinced her to drive up here tomorrow to meet with you, but you're not even in Pennsylvania. What would you like me to do?"
The long search for Lynnie could be coming to an end? But if she and Max dropped the search for Shara, would they lose Clare? What if this woman wasn't Lynnie? What if they never found her?
"Detective Grove, I'm going to have to talk to my husband and to Clare, but I'm thinking if Clare is willing, maybe she can meet with her. Would that be acceptable?"
"Absolutely. Clare's reaction counts as well as yours. The DNA you supplied last week has already been sent to a private lab. I'll send Amy's samples there, too."
"Amy?"
"That's her name now. This woman who could be your daughter."
Amy.
Amanda let the name roll on her tongue, knowing it didn't feel right. But then nothing would feel right until she had Lynnie in her arms once more and Shara back at home with Clare.
****
Chapter Eight
Shara was scared. Not fear for her life scared, but coming to a strange place, not knowing anybody, not knowing Justin all that well scared. She'd never done anything before like the stuff she'd done today. Using her mom's credit card, she'd accomplished finding a car service online. She'd been chauffeured to BWI. No one had asked any questions about why they were picking her up at the mall. She'd also made her airline reservations online and again no one had asked any questions. After all, she had a driver's license for ID.
Justin was older than she thought. He must be in his twenties, rather than his late teens. With his computer set up in the living room of his three-bedroom ranch house, he was a bit geekier than she expected, too. But he'd shown up at the airport in his truck to meet her. He'd even stopped and gotten her something to eat and told her she could crash with a couple of the girls who worked for him.
She didn't know what work they did for him, but she was sure she was going to find out. One of them—Courtney—had stopped in to meet her. She'd worn tons of Native American jewelry. Shara loved jewelry, and when she'd commented on it, Courtney said she'd made some of it herself. If Shara was interested in making jewelry, she could drive her to one of the bead shops where she shopped and Shara could get her bearings in the city.
Courtney and Justin had exchanged a look. Justin had smiled and said that was great with him. He had some business to attend to. They could all meet here afterward. So here they were. Courtney had gone to the bathroom to freshen up. From the looks Courtney gave Justin, Shara suspected they were involved. If not, she guessed Courtney wanted to be.
Justin motioned Shara to the sofa. "We need to have a talk about what you're going to do while you're here."
She wasn't sure what he meant, but there was nothing threatening about him. His longish, dark brown hair fell around his face as if he didn't care about style. His rectangular-shaped wire-rimmed glasses sat high on his nose. He was lanky and tall, but in no way foreboding. She'd liked his e-mails and so far, she liked him. Oh, not in that girl-boy way she'd liked Brad, but enough to know he could be her friend. That's what he'd been so far.
"So Courtney took you to her favorite bead shop?"
"Yeah, it was called Zuni. I've never seen so many beads and semi-precious stones. They even had Sleeping Beauty turquoise. The sales clerk showed it to me. She let me slide the beads through my hands. I can never pay for anything like that, but maybe sometime I could afford some of the lapis and the jasper. Courtney says she uses it all the time. I just love her stuff."
"Courtney's good at everything she does."
Justin's smile almost confirmed the fact that he and Courtney had a thing going on. After all, she was blonde with green eyes and a great bod. She'd always wanted to be a blond herself. Maybe she could try that. Out here, she could try anything.
One of the computers sounded a signal and Shara glanced toward it. But Justin didn't get up or go to it to satisfy whatever the little bell signified.
She asked, "What do you do with these?"
"I'm an entrepreneur. If you meant what you said about your family, about your mom and your need to get away, if you'd like to start a new life, I can possibly help you with that."
Up to now, she'd been involved in the excitement of leaving her hometown, of flying for the first time, of noticing everything she could about Albuquerque and the landscape and the beautiful mountains she and Courtney had driven toward when they'd gone to the bead shop. But now she had to face why she'd run away.
"I have to decide what I'm going to do…about the baby." She'd told Justin about that news when he'd picked her up at the airport. He hadn't seemed shocked.
"I know. We'll have to talk about your options."
"But I'm underage. If I go anywhere, wouldn't a doctor notify my mom?"
His eyes narrowed a bit as he studied her. "Not in New Mexico. If you want, though, we can fudge your age, or I can get you a new ID if you really don't want your family to find you."
"A new ID?"
"Sure. I know somebody who can give you a whole new name if you want it, but that's, of course, up to you. You're in charge, Shara. You make all the decisions."
His voice and his promise made her feel less uneasy about the decision she'd made to leave York.
"I want to give you a few things to think about tonight, okay?"
"Sure."
"First of all, you don't have to worry about a roof over your head or food in your stomach. If you work for me, I'll take care of you. I take care of all the girls who do."
There was that phrase again—work for him. "Doing data entry? Something like that?"
Justin dipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a cell phone. He held it out to her. "This is yours. My number and Courtney's are programmed in. You can call me whenever you need me. Courtney, too. For now you'll be living where she does, so that's probably not going to be necessary. Still, I know how girls like to talk, even if you're only a block apart."
After he handed her the phone, he said, "Let's talk about your baby for a minute, then we'll move on to business."
She hadn't even started to think about her baby. She was still in shock that she was pregnant. But Justin seemed to be the kind of guy who liked to cover all the bases. That made her feel even a little more secure.
"I don't know what I want to do. I don't know if I should have it, or—"
"Your life's in a shambles and this is a lot to think about right now. I'll stand by you whatever decision you make. If you want to have an abortion, I'll pay for it."
"I don't have insurance or anything. I'm on my mom's policy and if I'm out here—"
"Not a problem, Shara."
She could ask why it wasn't a problem, how he could get fake ID's, why he would pay for everything for her, but she was overwhelmed right now. She just wanted to know she'd be okay.
"I realize thinking about the baby is upsetting you, so let's talk about you making some money, okay?"
"By making jewelry like Courtney? She told me she sells it at the flea market."
He gave a low chuckle. "No, I'm not thinking about the flea market. That's something Courtney does to entertain herself. What I'm talking about..." He waved at the two desktop computers. "...has to do with the tech age, social media, and the Internet."
"So is it data entry?"
Again he gave that low chuckle. "Well, in a way I suppose you could say that. But no, we're not dealing with numbers and letters. We're dealing with you and Courtney and some other young women who have decided to make some money in a short amount of time, who need more than minimum wage to live on, who are trying to start over for whatever reason."
"They're not all pregnant!" A terrible foreboding came over her until he gave his answer.
"Oh, no. In fact, you're the only one who's pregnant right now, though Mary Lee did give up a baby for adoption last year. That's one of your options, too."
Since she didn't want to think about that, she still focused on the work. "But what would I be doing?"
Justin stood and went over to one of the computer monitors. With the mouse, he flicked off the screen saver on both of them. Then he jabbed a couple of buttons. He stood in front of one monitor and his visage showed up on the other.
He turned to face her. "Do you understand webcams?"
"My desktop didn't have one. But I was at a friend's when she used Skype so I know how that works." She didn't want him to think she was stupid.
"Yep, you can videoconference with Skype. But I'm talking about a different type of service. I have a website set up and provide a private service."
She was getting goose pimples on her arms. "What kind of service?"
"You are a beautiful young woman, so is Courtney, so are the other girls that live in the apartment with her. They each have their own computer with a webcam and their own room for a reason. When they're working they need privacy."
Now those goose pimples ran up her spine, too. "Privacy for what?"
"We have visitors who come to that website who pay a fee to belong. When they check in, they sign up for an appointment time. The broadcasts are live and the girls rotate."
"Rotate talking to them?" she asked lightly, though the feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that wasn't so.
He didn't laugh this time, but he looked very serious. "Talking can be part of it, but their session runs only twenty minutes. You have to think of this more as a lap dance, only there's no danger to you because this person might be on the other side of the world. You'd wear something fairly skimpy like you wore in that photo on Branches, and you'd entertain the customer. The girls have lots of books and videos that will help give you ideas on what you can do."
Now Shara was scared. Having sex with Brad was one thing, doing something like this for a complete stranger was something else.
"There's total anonymity," Justin explained. "And you won't be seeing the customer. He or she would just be seeing you."
"But I'm pregnant. In a few months I'll show."
"Believe it or not, there are customers for pregnant women. You could be in very high demand. That's something you might want to consider with all the rest. Albuquerque isn't our only location for this. I have another setup in Wyoming and one in Arizona, and I want you to think about what you'll be getting out of this, Shara. You'll have a great apartment with friends. These girls have boyfriends, too. They have a real life. If you want to make jewelry, you can do that. If you want to keep your baby, we can figure something out."
Shara remembered all the Sundays she went to church with her mother and grandmother, the colleges she had started to look into, the future she thought she'd plan. But she was pregnant, and her mom would hate her because of it. Even if she had an abortion, if she let Justin pay for an abortion, if she just gave this a few months, she could stake herself, get a real job, maybe eventually call home.
An abortion. Could she ever do that?
"Have any of the other girls had abortions?"
"That's confidential information," he said solemnly. "But I will tell you this. If you talk to Courtney, she could counsel you about it. With just four clients a day, you could earn enough to be more than comfortable, even get your own place eventually. What do you think?"
"I like Courtney," she said.
"She is a peach. Did she tell you her mom and dad have a farm in Georgia, and she sends money home every month?"
"She told me she was from Georgia, that's all."
"You only spent a couple of hours with her, but Courtney's pretty open about her life. She'll talk to you if you're open with her. Same with me, Shara. Don't be afraid to talk to me."
She wasn't afraid to talk to him, but she was afraid of other things. Was she able to do what he wanted? Was she able to come on to a man without ever seeing his face? But maybe that was the beauty of it. Maybe she could just pretend.
"What do you think, Shara? Do you think you'd like to be part of my business?"
Just what choice did she have? None.
"I'd like to give it a try."
****
Amanda had been talking to Clare for the past half hour, trying to ease her fears on so many levels. Max was listening in on the conversation but not saying anything. He looked as worried as she felt. They were all trying to be strong. They were all scared to death.
"Clare, I know you're worried about Shara," Amanda said, for at least the third time, "But if you see this girl and talk to her, you should get a sense as well as we could of whether or not she's Lynnie. You took care of Lynnie. You talked to her in her own secret language. You told her your secrets. You have to have confidence that you'll recognize that bond."
"What if I don't? What if I say or do the wrong things
and she leaves?"
"She's having the DNA sample taken. In a short while we'll have the results. So even if she leaves, we'll know for sure, and we have her address. This isn't a one-time only chance, honey. If your interview doesn't go well with her, we'll have another go-around. So please don't put more pressure on yourself than you have to."
Amanda heard a grunt from Max and finally he spoke. "Clare, we should be there with you. We know that. But we also know that Shara is our main concern right now. We've given up so many years in search of Lynnie and who knows if we'll ever find her. But with Shara, we have a good chance of bringing her home. So just keep that in your head when you're talking to this Amy. See if you can get some history out of her. She's probably not going to want to go into any of it if it's bad." He paused. "So just keep in mind that Gillian has a high success rate."
"Dad, I thought you didn't believe in her."
"The truth is, I don't know what I believe any more. But I sure as hell would like to believe in something. If nothing else, I can believe in the skills of Gillian's partner, a private investigator. Tomorrow, you act like an information magnet and collect all you can without sounding like an inquisitor. Listen as much as you can if she'll talk. Do you have one of those little tape recorders with the voice control?"
"I can get one."
"Just turn it on and tape some of the conversation. That way we can listen to it afterward. You'll be fine. I know you will. Did you say Joe's there with you?"
"Yes," she said hesitantly, probably expecting some kind of censure from that.
Max didn't scold or judge. He simply said, "Put your heads together. At least then you'll feel you're prepared."
"Thanks, Dad. That helps."
Amanda saw the grim line of Max's mouth and didn't know what that meant. She took the phone back again and after a few more minutes of conversation, she ended the call. She tried staying calm during it. She really tried to stay calm through this whole trip. But so much was happening and there was so much they didn't know. And tomorrow...tomorrow could be the start of a new life for all of them...or tomorrow could be an ending.
Her Sister (Search For Love series) Page 9
