The Making of a Centaur

by A. S. McGowan

  Rising, the Sheik shook Matt’s hand. “I am sorry I accused you of such things. As I said, she replaced my dead daughter in my heart. So much of her reminded me of Azhara.”

  Nathaniel watched Matt walk the Sheik to the door. Analise has taken his spot on the couch and had her arms wrapped around the Lucky. Or should he call her Rebekah now? No doubt she was a bundle of nerves and excitement. When Matt returned, Nathaniel waited to see what Matt was going to do now. Matt wasted no time speaking to any of them in the room. He grabbed his phone and started dialing.

  “Savannah, I got a lead on our girl. Rebekah from an Amish community outside Springfield, Missouri. See if David and Alex can show her picture around and maybe find out just where she came from.”

  Nathaniel wished he could hear what Savannah was saying. What if she did not agree to send David and Alex? What if she did not agree to send any agent? It did seem like a long shot but at least it was more than what they had before. To him, it was worth a shot if it would help Lucky find out who she really was. After all, her memories did not seem to be coming back in any solid enough way to know her identity.

  “Yes, it does seem the Amish are invading my life and that of the Agency. There is more, Savannah. It seems this young girl was kidnapped when she was sixteen. A victim of human trafficking. We need to find out all we can about that gentlemen’s club and the men who run it.” Running his hand through his hair, he looked over at Lucky while listening to Savannah. Hanging up the phone, he turned to Nathaniel. “We should know something soon. Time to get some rest, we head back to Texas tomorrow to try and piece this all together.”

  Chapter 16

  It had been two days since they had come back to the ranch from Kentucky. Matt had said that David and Alex were going to Missouri to try to find out if anyone could identify Lucky. The thought that she might have a family out there left her with mixed emotions. She could not remember her supposed Amish life, nor could she remember this supposed life of being a prostitute and stripper. All she had to go on was the word of a stranger. Well, two strangers if you counted Analise saying that she was, in fact, a stripper at a gentlemen’s club. Why did they call them gentlemen’s clubs to begin with? Her idea of a gentleman would not be the kind of guy that frequented such places to begin with. It was an oxymoron if she ever heard one.

  Reaching the stables, she slipped inside the dim interior. Stopping by one of the horse stalls, she took the time to gently stroke the big horse’s head. Something about petting the horse was calming. Leaning her cheek against the horse’s soft neck, she closed her eyes.

  Hitching the horses to the buggy, she was ready to head into town. She loved these moments of freedom when she could go into town alone. Some of the boys and even a few of the other girls had ventured as far as the city. She was not ready to make such a huge leap. The idea of going into the city scared her. The others would tease her for sure if she ended her Rumspringa without at least one trip into the city. So, ready or not, the leap was here and now.

  Climbing into the buggy, she set the horses off into a trot. It would not take too long to reach town. There were a couple English girls in town that said they would give her a ride into the city. From there she was to meet up with the other boys and girls from her community. Halfway to town she almost backed out. Almost, but not quite.

  Inside the car, the road whizzed by so fast. Never had she ridden in a car before. The thrill and excitement of seeing all the fields, buildings, and trees rush past the window was amazing. How could she have lived her whole life and never experienced this? Did her parents realize just what they were missing out on? Oh well, this night was hers and hers alone. She planned to live it to the fullest before she made her announcement tomorrow. Tomorrow would be the last of her “running around time.” She would join the church for life, marry a good man, and settle into being a meek and modest housewife.

  Rolling the window down, she stuck her head out and let the rush of the wind blow against her face. Never had she experience the wind at such speeds. Smiling and giggling, she leaned further out the window and let out a shout into the night wind.

  Opening her eyes, she tried to hang onto the memory. Try as she might though it slipped away. She could remember the buggy ride into town. Even the car ride to the city and all the excitement she felt that night. She couldn’t remember past that moment of leaning her head out the window. Something happened that night. Something that led to where she is today. If only she could remember just what happened once she got to the city. Just where had the night gone so wrong?

  Leaving the stables, she headed back to the house. She needed to tell them that she remembered a bit more about her life. Maybe telling them that she remembered the night she was kidnapped would help. Even if she couldn’t remember the actual kidnapping itself. Something even as small as remembering a car ride had to help. Didn’t it?

  Reaching the back deck, she sat down in one of the chairs. She needed a moment to process the new memory. Something about that night kept tugging at her. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. She remembered a house. A large, elaborate house with bright lights that lit up the circle driveway and front yard. Fear crept up her spine and her gut churned. Her eyes flew open. There was something ominous about the house. She wanted to shy away from this memory, allow her mind to remain blank. Remember, you are not a sheep, now stop fighting it and remember, she admonished herself. Closing her eyes again the memory flooded back.

  When the car came to a stop she took in the huge house. It was very quiet. She had expected a lot of noise to come from the house with a party going on. She didn’t know anything about parties, so she could have been wrong in what she expected. Smiling, she got out of the car with the other two girls. She couldn’t wait to see the look on her friends’ faces when they realized she had, in fact, made a trip to the city.

  Following the other two girls up the stairs, she entered an enormous foyer. The house was quiet, and her nerves were on end. Something was wrong about all of this. The hairs stood up on her neck. She wanted to turn and run from this house. She wouldn’t run though. No way would she allow the other kids to tease her for being scared. Maybe the rich English held quiet parties. That had to be why there was no sounds of people talking or music playing.

  The girls motioned for her to follow them. She did without comment. When they entered a large living room, she noticed there were only a couple of people. An older man and a very large man. Both scared her. Standing there, she waited for someone to tell her what was going on. No one seemed inclined to tell her anything. As the older man approached them, she took a defensive step back. The man handed a white envelope to one of the girls. Immediately they turned without a word and left.

  Fear snaked through her. Now she knew this was not some English version of a party. There was no party. She was not being driven to where her friends were at. Before she could react, the older gentleman motioned to the larger man. When the larger man was beside her, she tried to put distance between them.

  “Take her upstairs. Break her in. I want her ready to start working soon,” the older gentleman said.

  She turned to run but the large man’s arm snaked around her. Kicking and screaming, she tried to fight him off. His laughter reached her ears above the sound of her screams. He was so strong that with one arm, he had her up off the floor. All her fighting did nothing to stop him. He managed to get her up the stairs with little effort at all.

  When he brought her into a dark room, he stopped and flicked on the lights. She saw the bed in front of them. She knew what was coming. Kicking and wiggling around, she tried to break free. The man dumped her onto the bed. Turning, she tried to scramble to the other side of the bed. All her fighting didn’t seem to anger the man. In fact, he seemed to like her fighting. Grabbing her legs, he dragged her back across the bed, all the while laughing at her.

  She pulled herself out of that memory. Her hands were curled into fists and her nails dug into her palms. Her brea
thing was labored. She didn’t want to remember what came next. She knew what happened. She had trusted those young girls and they betrayed her in the worst conceivable way. Standing, she entered the house through the French doors into the kitchen. She knew she had to tell Matt what she remembered. She just relieved a horrible night and she would have to relive it again when she told him.

  First though she would find Stella and Analise. It would be easier to speak of her new memories with other women in the room with her. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Matt, it was just too embarrassing to speak of what happened to her. If anything, else, she might just tell Stella and Stella could tell Matt. She liked that idea better.

  Chapter 17

  Nathaniel couldn’t believe what Matt was saying. First off, Lucky was remembering the night she was kidnapped. Secondly, David and Alex have had no luck finding where her parents lived. The mystery was mounting. The more they learned, the less they knew. It frustrated him that they constantly kept hitting roadblocks when it came to helping this young woman.

  “So, what is the plan now?” he asked.

  “I called Savannah and informed her of what all we have learned now. Lucky, I mean Rebekah, doesn’t remember the girls’ names nor the names of either of the men from her memories. So, in that aspect we are stuck. However, Savannah is calling in some of the local task forces in Springfield to see if they have any investigations going that would lead us to these men.”

  “So, this is a case of human trafficking?” Both his hands knotted into fists. Every emotion twisted and distorted. He wanted to punch someone or something. He learned fast that there were real monsters in the world. He felt proud to be an agent, because now he could take the monsters down.

  “Yeah, and I think those girls sole reason for offering rides to Amish teens is to find girls and possibly teen boys to sell. It is disgusting, but the lure of money can make people do some sick things.” Picking up some papers, he passed them to Nathaniel. “Here, I was able to obtain financials for the strip club. See if there is any paper trail you can ferret out for me.”

  “I will see what I can find. Someone needs to stop these bastards.” Standing, he went over to the table with the papers. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm his emotions. He wanted them to pay for every moment of pain, humiliation and horror Rebekah had endured. One way to do that was to do his job.

  “I agree. If we can’t get them for trafficking, maybe we can get them on something else. So, note everything you find. Anything that shuts them down protects girls like Rebekah.” Keying his computer up, he got to work as well.

  He spent the next several hours going over all the financial records Matt had obtained. The daunting task provided him with nothing that would point in the direction of a crime. He knew that businesses that dealt largely in cash were harder to perform a forensic accounting investigation on, as they could declare any amount and claim it came from legal business dealings with customers. He knew they were conducting criminal activities, he just couldn’t prove a thing with these records.

  Grabbing the stack of papers, he started from the beginning. He hoped to find something he missed the first time. He was midway through the stack of papers when the phone rang. He looked up briefly and watched Matt answer the phone. From what he could hear of Matt’s side of the conversation, the call was regarding the horse that died during the Kentucky Derby. Looking back down at the papers, he started highlighting deposits that were larger than normal. It may not be anything that would break the case wide open, but it was worth a shot to look a little deeper.

  “That was the Association. Apparently, my horse tested positive for Lasix. We have never used anything like that with any of our horses.”

  “So, what are they saying is going to happen?”

  “As of right now, none of my horses are allowed to race in any more sanctioned races. They said there will be a thorough investigation.” Matt ran his hand through his hair.

  “Is there a chance that the horse’s death could be related to everything else going on?”

  “What do you mean? Human traffickers doped my horse because we have the girl?”

  “No. I mean the same guy responsible for killing so many people and framing Lawrence.”

  “Why kill a horse?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe to destroy you.”

  “You could be on to something with that. I just don’t understand any of this. First this guy goes after the agents. Now he goes after the ranch and the horses. It just doesn’t make sense but then again, nothing about this guy makes sense. I need to go tell Analise.” Rising, he headed for the door but then turned back to Nathaniel. “Keep going through those records. There has to be something we can use.”

  Nathaniel did as he was told. After a couple more hours, all he had was some highlighted large deposits on a few pages. Nothing substantial that would suggest money laundering. In addition, he couldn’t even find anything that would allow for tax fraud. All the money was accounted for in some form or another that was connected to the gentlemen’s club.

  A couple of days later, he found himself back out in the stables. This time at least he was only grooming the horses and not having to muck out anymore stalls. Running the brush down the horse’s back, he reflected over the financial records. There had to be something in those records. There was no way possible in his opinion that a crime could be completely covered up. He prided himself on his abilities to ferret out discrepancies in financial records. He would find something, he was sure of it. He just hoped that it was sooner rather than later.

  A slight noise caught his attention. Turning, he saw Lucky, um Rebekah, standing there watching him. He needed to start remembering that she had a name now. No longer was she a nameless victim. “Hi.”

  “Hi. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I just came out to see the horses.” Waving her hand around, she indicated the horses in their stalls.

  “No, you’re fine. I am just finishing up grooming this pretty lady here.” Continuing to brush the horse, he gave the horse an affectionate pat on the neck with his free hand.

  “They are beautiful. It really is sad what happened at the races. I still can’t believe that the Association believes that Matt would drug his own horses.” Moving next to Nathaniel, she pet the horse’s neck.

  “I know. Someone is dead set on ruining Matt in every aspect. I just wish we knew who was doing this.” Turning, he watched Rebekah pet the horse.

  A slight turn of her head had him staring spellbound into deep blue eyes. He didn’t stop and think, he just moved on instinct. Claiming her mouth with his, he wrapped his arms around her waist. The kiss was hot and demanding. All his sexual frustrations were coming out in his assault on her mouth. She leaned into him. Her fingers ran down his spine, sending electrical currents through him. Deepening the kiss, he pulled her tighter against him. The very scent of her flooded his senses. His mouth trailed down her neck. Her pulse beat against his lips. Her soft moan of pleasure had him hardening against his jeans.

  The brush dropped from his hand, landing on the concrete floor with a thump. The sound jolted him back to reality. Breathless he pulled back from her. Her eyes were cloudy and unfocused. Her lips swollen. He shouldn’t have done that. It was reckless and stupid.

  “I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He looked away from her. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he tried to think of something more to say.

  “I wasn’t expecting that, but you don’t have to apologize. I remember kissing you back by the way.” Her voice was breathless to his ears. She tried to close small distance between them. He stepped back putting even more distance between them.

  “With everything you have been through, the last thing you need is me doing something like that.” He still couldn’t look at her.

  “We can just forget it happened. We should just focus on getting my memories back and finding out who is behind all of this.” Not waiting for a response, she fled the stables as it was on fire

/>   Standing alone in the stables, he suddenly felt alone. Truly alone. He thought he knew what it would be like to kiss her. Having spent time with her listening to her talk and laugh, he thought he knew. Nothing could have prepared him for the reality of kissing her. He was impressed with the fieriness she displayed when she kissed him back. It consumed him, burning him from the inside out. He would remember this moment always, while he vowed to never let it happen again. What was done was done. Even though it could never happen again, didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy the memory. Smiling he retrieved the brush off the floor and went back to work.

  Chapter 18

  “Rebekah Schwartz, what were you thinking? How could you so openly kiss him?” she muttered out loud while walking back to the house. “Think about it. There is a killer out there and you go and start—” She stopped in mid-sentence, realizing she just blurted out her last name. She knew her name! Running, she burst through the back doors and into the kitchen.

  Stella was standing there at the island chopping some vegetables when Rebekah came to an abrupt halt in the kitchen. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she found Stella had stopped chopping and was staring at her.

  “I remember my name. I mean, I remember my full name. It is Rebekah Schwartz.” Smiling, she bounced over to the island and began giggling. “I have a name.”

  “Rebekah, that is great. Is there anything else that you remember?” Stella’s smile encouraged her to concentrate and try to remember more details.

  “Seymour. That name is standing out. It keeps tugging at my memory, but I am not sure who Seymour is.” Biting her lip, she tried to grab onto something more solid.

  “Seymour? Didn’t the Sheik tell you guys that you had told him you were from a town outside of Springfield, Missouri”

  “Yes, he told Matt that. Why?”

  “Because there is a Seymour, Missouri in the general vicinity. We may have just found out where you family is from. If that is the case, you, my dear, are what is known as Swiss Amish.”