by Lacey Silks
T.Cross: Someone will knock on your door in five seconds.
That’s impossible, how would he know. And before I finished the thought, a gentle knock sounded. Tina, our receptionist, pushed open the door and entered with an enormous bouquet of daisies.
“Is here all right?” she asked.
I nodded, and she set the vase on my desk.
The arrangement was flawless. Beautiful yellow centers and white petals released a sweet aroma. Its smell plunged into my lungs. A little bit of pollen sprinkled onto my desk. Leave it to Tristan Cross to time the receptionist’s entrance with his text. He had probably told her what time to deliver these.
Tina reached under her arm, where I’d noticed she was holding something else. She lowered the file on my desk.
“Thank you,” I said as she left and picked up the little envelope off the flowers. Pulling the card out, I smiled at Tristan’s handwriting which inscribed a simple note: Love Tristan, aka Triple O. I stuffed the note into my pocket and then opened the file. It was the missing information on Marissa. I quickly scanned through the papers planning to read them in detail once I replied to Tristan.
A. Green: Smooth, Triple O. I love them. And thank you for the file.
T. Cross: I trust you Allie. And you’re welcome. <3
Right after, Laura came into the office.
“He’s spoiling you,” she said.
“I know.” I didn’t mention yet he’d given me more than the flowers. I wanted to read through the files myself before lifting Laura’s hopes that we had something more to help us get Marissa off the streets. My friend had developed a soft spot for these girls as much as I had, and they meant to her more than she wanted to admit.
“That’s good. You need to be spoiled. You mentioned something about luring Marissa this morning?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think you’ll like it.”
“Okay, I’m all ears.”
“Well, do you think James would consider working out of his car for a few days?” I asked.
She narrowed her brows, probably trying to figure out where I was going with this.
“You want him to try to pick her up?”
And as I expected, Laura was right on the spot.
“She got in a black SUV last night. But I have a feeling she’ll be back again. There’s no way this was a coincidence.”
“You think she remembers you from the auction?”
“I don’t know. But if James can perhaps drive up to her and mislead her—”
“—you want him to kidnap her?”
“We won’t hurt her. I know in my gut she’ll be safer with us than whomever she works for.”
“I don’t think it would be an issue with James. He’s always loved going undercover. But he’s in meetings all day today. It would have to be tomorrow.”
“Here.” I scribbled the make and model on a note as well as what James should be wearing and passed it to her. “Rent this out for tomorrow and get him these clothes. There was no licence plate on the vehicle, so make sure they remove it.”
“Sounds good.” She took the piece of paper and started working at her desk. Within minutes I heard Laura making phone calls and arrangements for the SUV to be delivered to our parking lot this evening and I smiled. This had to work. I had to get that girl off the streets.
If Marissa was out there, abused and mistreated, I had to help her. I needed her to know there was a way out: that someone other than her pimp was actually thinking about her. She didn’t have to run from me or anyone else. I wanted her safe.
As I flipped through the pages in her new file, there was a photo of the SUV. Despite the surging emotions last night, I was right on the make and model of the vehicle. Then I lost myself in reading the details of Marissa’s life.
Her father had drowned on a fishing trip. His canoe was flipped over and he couldn’t turn around. The stream carried him away from the rest of the party into the whitewaters, and his friends couldn’t catch up fast enough to help him. Marissa was ten at the time.
The fate of Clare, Marissa’s mother, wasn’t picturesque either. Left to raise a daughter on her own, she struggled. She’d always been a stay-at-home mother while her husband, an honorary police officer, worked at the force. After he passed, getting a job that could support the living conditions they were used to or starting a career so late in her life was next to impossible.
But instead of scaling down to support her daughter, Clare chose to work as a private escort. She seemed to be doing well in the beginning, acting as merely a companion to rich men who needed a beautiful woman under their arm to attend an event. It was suspected that someone with connections fed her the clients. The file contained few details about the source of Clare’s jobs, and it may well have been a rumor. But in my experience, rumors always held a portion of truth within them.
With age, Clare’s jobs dwindled and she chose to expand her services to more than accompanying rich men. The next few pages didn’t surprise me. After selling her body for months Marissa’s mother ended up being brutally raped in an alley close to one of the hotels she had left earlier in the night. Her body was found in a trash container; the close up photos of her stab wounds and evidence of abuse were nothing less than gruesome. Marissa was eighteen when it had happened. Legally an adult, she was on her own. She had no way to support herself through college without proper assistance.
I couldn’t believe how parallel our lives appeared. Despite her being a few years younger than me, her life mirrored mine. She had grown up without a father, just like I had. But where our mothers were concerned, our paths forked.
At this moment I couldn’t have been more thankful for the life path my mother had chosen for us. Because after all, her decisions had set the tone for both our lives. Despite having Wright breathing down her neck her entire life, she was able to raise me, train me, and support me emotionally as much as she could. Unlike Marissa’s mother, mine had been able to stay clear of bad men.
I pulled my gaze away from the file and wiped my eyes. This case struck a nerve in my heart. It was too familiar. Except that my mother proved to be stronger. She chose to live in modesty to raise me. One simple decision could have changed Marissa’s path and future; a decision that couldn’t be taken back now. Was that why I had been so drawn to her, why I felt an odd connection with a girl I’d only met once?
I flipped another page.
Marissa had dropped out her first year of college and began working at Hooters to support herself. She’d done well there; and then one night, she simply disappeared. A few mug shots later I could only come up with the conclusion that she had been caught under the influence in a public place a few times. Nothing big – except each time, someone had bailed her out and she would disappear once again.
Was that the man in the SUV? I wondered.
I read the file over and over again, and before I realized it, it was already six in the evening. The sky consumed by night glowed from below, illuminated by city lights. Laura finally came by my desk, saying, “It’s time to go home.”
I stretched my arms out when a text from Tristan came in.
“Go ahead. I’ll be done in five minutes,” I said to Laura.
“Make sure security sees you to your car,” she said.
“Will do.”
I finally looked at my phone.
T. Cross: Why are you still at the office, Allie?
A. Green: I’m about to leave.
I knew I’d promised Tristan a normal business day, but he was the first one to break tonight’s plans by leaving on a business trip. Besides, I’d been so preoccupied with Marissa, I’d forgotten about the time. I was so grateful tomorrow was Saturday and I could stay home. Not that I didn’t like work, but exhaustion set in quicker than I liked. Besides, getting some distance from the case to clear my mind would perhaps help me think better. My phone vibrated again.
T. Cross: Have you had anything to eat since breakfast?
Has he been spying
on me? I thought.
A. Green: Muffin for lunch.
I swear my own phone had just frowned at me.
T. Cross: I may have to come back sooner to feed you.
A. Green: Then I shall not touch food until I see you ;)
T. Cross: Pls eat smthg & txt me when u get home. Leftovers in fridge. <3
He must have been in a hurry, cutting his texts short.
A. Green: I promise I will <3
I gathered my coat and purse and took the elevator to the garage parking downstairs. Passing the security guy, I waved.
“Would you like me to walk you to your car, Ms. Green?” he asked.
I peeked around the corner to where my white Bentley was parked less than ten feet away and replied, “No, I’ll be fine.”
My stomach grumbled. I should have eaten something earlier.
As I approached my car, a shiver passed over my spine and goose bumps covered my arms. I clicked the button on my key and the engine purred when my eye caught something moving in my peripheral vision.
I jumped up.
“I’m sorry.” The girl was crunched up on the floor by the wall where she couldn’t have been seen by security. Her head was covered with a hood and she slowly removed it.
I held my breath and felt my jaw open. Don’t scare her, Allie, I thought.
I stripped away the nerves that surged through me and said in a calm voice, “You have nothing to be sorry about.”
Her eyes glistened with fresh tears, and mascara streamed down her face. She wore faded jeans; the hems of their bottoms torn and soiled. Marissa’s hair was unkempt and nails full of dirt. I couldn’t believe she was here, so close to my car. Was that a coincidence?
“Are you hurt?” I asked.
She shook her head sideways but clutched her fists tighter than before.
“Don’t be scared, Marissa.”
“You know my name?” she asked.
Shit! Well, that should scare the living daylights out of her.
“I do. Are you cold?” I asked. Judging from her shivering body, she was.
Marissa nodded.
“Do you want to warm up in my car?”
She nodded again.
I opened the door and let her into the passenger seat. We sat in silence for a good few minutes before she opened her clenched fists.
“She said you can help me.” She handed me my business card. “That’s why I’m here.”
I recalled giving the card to Mercedes when Laura and I had gone out to Hunts Point to ask about Marissa.
“I can.” I took a deep breath and gave myself a quick pep talk in my mind. “My name is Allie Green. Marissa, I know you’ve been through a lot, but I want to take you to my house. Are you all right with that?”
I could have said a shelter or a hospice or one of the other dozes of places women found refuge at, but none of them felt like they’d keep her safe from whomever she feared. I could see it on her face. It was that same look she had at the auction. And it was the identical fear I recognized from when I’d hidden under the staircase while Wright raped my mother.
“Yes,” she whispered.
As soon as I got home I sent a text to Tristan and rushed upstairs to gather a change of clothes for Marissa. She stood in the hallway where I’d left her, mesmerized. I couldn’t blame her. I had the same reaction when I first saw this place. Gosh, was this really a good idea? Would this be too much for her?
“I got you some clothes,” I said, reaching forward with the jeans I thought would fit her, a comfortable t-shirt, and a sweater. “If you want them, that is. You can use the bathroom upstairs, and I can throw your clothes in a washer.”
This was it! Would she turn around and run? Please don’t. Please let me help.
“I’d really like that.” This time Marissa offered a smile and her tone gained some levity.
I showed her upstairs and once she threw her clothes to the hallway like I’d asked, I tossed them in the washer. Then I rushed downstairs and nuked last night’s leftover Chinese food. I hoped she liked Chinese food. There was still enough in the fridge for four or five people.
My fingers drummed on the kitchen counter and my knees wobbled as I waited for Marissa to join me. In my mind I’d prepared a speech about her situation and how I just wanted to lend her a hand and would never judge her. I wanted her to know she didn’t need to go back to the scum I assumed was running her life. Saving this girl meant everything to me. It was one of the signs of hope I’d been looking for and that validated our work.
Her quiet footsteps swooshed across the floor and I stopped moving. When she came into the kitchen, all cleaned up and in fresh clothes, she could have truly passed for my younger sister: a much skinnier sister. From the high cheeks on Marissa’s face and her pointy nose to her auburn eyes, the resemblance was unbelievable. I’d heard of people having doubles in this world. I’d seen them hired to do publicity stunt shots for the rich and famous. And I had no doubt that Marissa was mine.
I stood up too fast. My chair tipped over and I caught it just before it crashed to the floor.
“I hope you’re hungry. I heated some Chinese food for us.” I grabbed one of the spoons and started scooping on the plate in front of me. “Go ahead and please excuse my manners, but I’m starving.”
In my mind I kept searching for ideas that would make her feel at ease, so perhaps after we ate she’d open up. I felt like I had to be careful of what I said so I wouldn’t scare her off.
“I had a long day today. I’m really looking forward to spending the weekend away from work.”
The statement was partly true and more intended for chitchat than anything else, but I did feel exhausted.
“I think I’ve seen you before.” She finally lifted a plate and scooped some food.
I cleared my throat then said in a quiet tone, “You have. At that hotel auction. I was standing beside you.”
Would it make her feel uncomfortable if she knew I’d seen what the man had done to her?
She narrowed her brows for a moment, and I knew what she was thinking. How did I end up in this house and she with a bastard who scouted her out and bought her even before the auction?
But she simply stated, “You had different hair and eyes.”
Marissa lifted the first forkful to her mouth and her reaction to Olivier’s delicious Chinese food was just what I’d expected. She added more to her plate, this time with more assertiveness.
“Well, I was there for a different reason than you were, so I had to change my look.”
“Are you a cop?”
“I used to be. Now I help women off the streets. Specifically ones who are abused and controlled by men.”
She stiffened and looked from her plate to me. Our gazes connected, and at that moment Marissa understood exactly what I meant.
“Thank you for this.” She lowered her form and stood up. She hastened toward the hall and I ran after her.
“Please, Marissa, stay with me. You’re safe here.”
Don’t go!
She hadn’t had enough to eat and I hadn’t even discussed her situation yet. Jeez, those people at the safe houses and shelters were really good at their jobs. Could I do this? Could I convince her that the life she’d led, the life which had been forced upon her, could be changed?
I can’t let her leave!
Marissa grabbed her jacket off the hook in the hall. She shook her head sideways as her eyes welled up.
“You’re being too generous.”
“It’s my pleasure to have you here.” I gently touched her arm. “My heart would break if you left now.”
“Why? Why are you doing this?”
“Because I once witnessed a brutal crime.”
Her head jerked up. I had her attention, so I continued. “I was just a kid when my mother was raped in her own house by someone she knew. She was seven months pregnant and lost her baby.”
I held onto her arm and slowly removed her long coat from her grip.
She let it go.
I dared to put my arm around her and with caution guided her back into the kitchen, saying, “I could have saved her but chose to hide.”
“You were just a kid.”
“I know, but the act confirmed to me that good things didn’t happen to people like me. I didn’t think I deserved a normal life. I honestly believed that, but my mother helped me heal. She found a way to save me from running away and helped me become who I am.”
“My mother tried, she really did,” she said through a sniffle.
I know, I thought as we sat by the kitchen counter again. I added more food to her plate, the noodles she’d been keen on the most, and passed her the fork.
She smiled.
Was I breaking through her barrier?
“I don’t doubt that, Marissa. Sometimes circumstances lead us down paths we cannot control. But I’m here, offering you a chance to change your future. You can have a good, safe life. You control your destiny – you and no one else.”
I could tell she was thinking about what I’d said. And as much as I knew it would be a hard sell, I held onto hope. I always had hope.
“I tried to run away from him, but he always found me,” she sniffled.
Bastard!
“Has he hurt you?” I asked, feeling the lump in my throat harden, hoping I wouldn’t choke at her answer.
“No,” she shook her head. “He’s been good to me. He said I reminded him of his ex-wife.”
And a psycho!
“How has he found you, then?” I asked.
“I don’t know. He has connections and always knew when I’d get busted because he’d bail me out before I called.” She paused lifting her gaze. There was more. I could tell she wanted to say something else.
Wait it out, Allie, I pep-talked myself in my mind.
And then she said it. “He makes me do things I don’t want.”
My jaw just clenched and I hung onto the seat under the counter so I wouldn’t lose it! He was pimping her out!
“You really do look like me.” Marissa’s choice of words struck me. The way she’d said it was as if she was expecting me to resemble her. Or perhaps it was just the way she spoke?
“I noticed that too. You’re a beautiful lady,” I winked at her.
