When Nick arrived, he was as scraggly and unkempt as the first day Abby had met him. His hair was tousled, his face was rough with a new growth of beard, but his eyes still sparkled with the same intensity, and this time she felt her heart race at the sight of him. It was just the scare with the girls, she chided herself, nothing more. Still, she couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across her face.
“Nick”—she wrapped her arms around his neck—“I’m so glad you’re here.”
He leaned in and kissed her, and Abby inhaled the familiar scent of stale cigarettes and old whiskey. She touched his face, the beard stubble scratching her fingertips. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt safe with him, and more than that, she felt cared for in a way she never had with Eric. Nick, she knew, would look out for her no matter what.
He took her hand, concern in his eyes. “What the hell is it? What’s happened?”
“There’s been trouble, Nick. I need your help. I told you I was going back to the rescue house, right?”
Nick nodded and sat.
Abby pulled a second chair close. She told him the story of the girls who’d been trafficked and sold and had maybe been headed to Kuwait, and their sudden disappearance. “Nick, they’re just kids—even Anyu is still a kid, maybe a little rough around the edges, but kids, and they’re out there alone. It scares me senseless.”
“Shit.” Nick sat forward and leaned on the desk. “Any idea where they’d go?”
“Well, home seems the most likely destination, but home for Anyu is northern India, and Mumbai for the girls. And I’m not sure what Anyu is thinking. Is she trying to help the girls or are they a cover for her own escape?” Abby tried to sort out her own thoughts. “Did you make it to Delhi?”
“I did, and no surprise, the police weren’t very forthcoming. An American journalist asking about their unsolved murders rankled a few of them, but I did get some information. This year already, they’ve had almost four hundred murders, and two-thirds of those are still unsolved. There were thirty-two murder victims found in the red-light district around G. B. Road, and eighteen of those cases are still open. A few could have been Anyu’s, but the more I think about it, I think it’s likely her brothel dumped the body somewhere else to avoid questions and trouble,” Nick said, rubbing his eyes.
“I hadn’t even thought of that, but it makes sense, doesn’t it? What does it mean for Anyu?”
“It means she should stay out of Delhi, and she probably shouldn’t go home, but people never do what they should.”
A frown crept across Abby’s face. “Where do we start? Jesus, this is harder than I thought it would be.”
“Just think. They all want to get out of Pakistan, right?”
Abby nodded. “That was our theory, and we thought maybe they’d take the train. They all speak a little English, but I’m willing to bet they don’t know enough Urdu to manage on their own.” Abby pointed to her computer. “I was trying to get online to get some maps, figure out where these train tracks just outside go.”
“To Islamabad, and from there, you can get to Delhi, but Mumbai’s a long way off.”
“Will you help? I want to look for them. They’re so little, and even Anyu is still a girl. They could all be in way more trouble than they were before.”
Nick sighed. “You didn’t tell Najeela about the girls?”
“No, not about them, but I had to tell her about the house.” Abby caught the look of reproach in Nick’s eyes. “I can’t just disappear for hours. I didn’t tell her anything else. That’s not all—Imtiaz showed up here right before the girls disappeared. He somehow knew that you were away, and he hoped I’d, well, never mind what he hoped.”
Suddenly, Nick was wide-awake, all traces of sleepiness gone from his eyes. “Jesus, what the hell did he want? Are you okay?”
Abby nodded. “I’m fine. Hana scared him off.”
“Hana? Well, I’ll be damned.” His eyes locked onto hers. “I won’t leave again, Abby. At least not without you.”
Inexplicable relief surged through Abby, and she turned away, avoiding his gaze.
“Did Imtiaz know about the girls? Or even the house? Could Najeela have told him? Jesus,” he said, scratching his head, “there’s a damn tangled web here. We’re going to have to unravel the whole mess.”
“I know,” Abby said impatiently. “Can we get going?”
Nick stood and stretched. “Where to first?” he asked, walking toward the front door.
“The rescue house first. I promised I’d be back. I only came here to print out some maps and train schedules, but the Internet’s down.”
They stopped first at the women’s house long enough to let them know that Nick was back and he was going to help with the search.
“Zara,” Abby asked, “do you want to come? Maybe just to be safe we should have you with us. Two Americans looking for three girls equals trouble.”
Zara hesitated. “We are grateful for your help, Nick, and I will come to the train station to help, but then I must get to the tent. That’s my job. I have responsibilities there.”
“That’s okay, that’s enough, Zara. If you can get us through the maze of the Peshawar train station, we’ll be all set,” Nick said.
The three headed to the car. Nick sped through the streets, somehow maneuvering the car in and out of traffic and between people and buildings before gliding into a parking spot at the Peshawar railway station. The building was nice—two stories, white and blue—peaceful almost in this bustling place where the crowds hurried, shoving, elbowing, and shouting their way to the ticket booths. Soldiers and police, guns at the ready, stood off to the side, occasionally growling orders to the mob.
Zara looked around and shook her head. “I think this place would scare them off. Even Anyu—too many people, too much noise, a scary place for girls who don’t want to be seen. If they did take the train, they didn’t get tickets, I think. I suppose they may have slipped aboard somewhere.”
“But you said they’re from Mumbai, and Anyu’s been in Delhi. If they live in the slums in those spots, the chaos here might feel familiar, comfortable,” Nick said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
They headed out to the platform, a wide concrete slab with trains running in a pit in the center. The chaos of the station had spread out here, and the noise of the crowd, the animals, and the thundering trains was deafening. Even the sky was somehow changed and the sun was almost lost in the haze of smoke and smog and steam. The web of wires and cables that ran overhead only added to the frenzied feel of the place. Tea and trinket sellers hawked their wares, and screaming children jostled old women. Scrawny boys lugged heavy bundles on their backs and pulled rickety wooden carts loaded with boxes and bags. The place was too crowded to even keep your eye on one person for long. There was too much movement and activity. Even the soldiers and police seemed at a disadvantage and stood back, looking around aimlessly, occasionally snarling at people to keep moving.
A long train, its engine heaving, groaned to a stop, spewing steam and dirt and heat into the crowd, which surged forward. Abby and the others held back, afraid of being swept up in the crush of people.
In this place, someone, a child maybe, could hide, even live, for a few days. If Pari and Geeta and Anyu had been here, they might be here still. A lone tree on the other side of the tracks caught Abby’s eye. That might be a place the three would wander, a place to nap or just watch for an opportunity to jump a train.
“They might be here,” Abby said, her gaze drawn to a band of grimy children running along the platform.
Nick shrugged. “I guess it’s possible.”
“I don’t think they’d stay here. I think if they didn’t get on a train, they are on the roads. For me, that makes the most sense,” Zara said so quietly Abby had to strain to hear. Zara looked quickly at her watch. “It is late, and time for me to go, I am sorry to say. Will you drive me to the camp, Nick?”
Abby took one last look around and saw again the group of d
isheveled children running roughly through the crowd. She watched as one reached out and grabbed a packet of cookies as he ran, and she smiled. Survival of the fittest, she thought, narrowing her gaze, hoping that the girls might be among them. But the group scurried off before she could get a closer look.
The three headed out and sat in silence in the car. Disappointment hung in the small, airless space like a heavy fog. In the front, Nick yawned and Abby watched as his shoulders sagged. He drove recklessly, weaving in and out of traffic, and Zara breathed an audible sigh of relief when they arrived at Safar. She opened the rear door quickly and almost jumped out.
“I will see you later today or perhaps tomorrow. But, please, if you learn anything, find me here or at the rescue house. Acha?”
Abby stepped into the searing glare of the sun and squinted. “Acha, Zara. We will find you if there is any news, and inshallah, there will be some.”
“Khoda khafez,” Zara said, waving as she stepped into the Protection Tent.
Abby slipped into the front passenger seat. “I know you’re exhausted, but can we look once more and then call it a day?”
Nick rubbed at his eyes. “Why not? I’m awake now anyway.”
“Can we go back to the train station?”
“I knew you were going to ask that, but not now, and here’s why. That place is too crowded and too dangerous for us. If the girls are there, we’ll never see them, and if they’ve seen us, they’re either hiding or on the run. Not to mention, we’re two Americans in the terrorism capital of the world.” The creases in his forehead deepened as he spoke. “So—imagine this. We actually see them, and no surprise, they run. What do we do? We run like hell after them,” he said, looking into Abby’s eyes. “And what do you think will happen next?”
Abby returned his stare. “I know you’re going to tell me.”
“The locals spy us, two foreigners chasing after three young girls. Not a pretty sight, is it? I think it would take them about ten seconds to load their weapons and aim them at us. And while I’m pretty confident that I carry the right ammunition to win a battle of wits anywhere in the world, I’m at a distinct disadvantage in a gun battle, and I’m going to do my best to avoid one.”
Abby exhaled, whistling as she did. “Hard to argue with that, but I have to say, I’m not ready to give up. You wouldn’t be either if you’d seen them, Nick.” She turned her gaze back to the road, and she felt the car accelerate.
“I’ve met Anyu, so I do understand.” His foot bore down on the gas. “So for now, let’s drive along the tracks, have a look, and consider all of the possibilities. First, did anyone else know about them?”
Abby shook her head. “No, Nick. I didn’t tell a soul.”
“How’d you get to the house, then?”
“Mohammed, the driver,” she said, her voice tinged with surprise. “You don’t think . . . ?”
“We have to think of everything and everyone. Did he know about the girls?”
Abby looked away, her voice soft. “He did. He took me to a shop in the bazaar to get new clothes for them, but that still doesn’t mean anything.”
“Probably not, but we can’t let anything slide.”
He drove alongside the tracks, crisscrossing the rutted roads until the tracks ran along Railway Road not far from Abby’s house. From there he caught Saddar Road before turning onto Grand Trunk Road. Abby peered through the grimy windshield scanning the landscape and the faces of the children they passed. Once they’d left the city center, the smooth surface gave way to dirt and dust and sleepy villages—too sleepy, too small, Abby thought, not a place where strangers could hide, especially girls on their own. The futility of their search suddenly struck Abby and she turned to Nick.
“I know you’re helping and I’m grateful, really I am, but they’re not here. I still think they’re in the city, in the train station probably.”
“Maybe,” Nick said, “but I think if they were there, they’re long gone by now. These are smart kids who don’t want to be found. You said they took money, right?”
Abby nodded.
“Well, they probably had a plan, and in this instance, while that’s bad for us and limits our chances of finding them, it’s good for them. Means they just might get home.”
“But home got them into trouble in the first place. Won’t they just be sold again or even punished for getting away?”
Nick sighed. “Probably,” he said sadly. “Probably, and the reality is home is a damn long way away, but if that’s their dream, they might make it.”
Two little girls suddenly darted into the road, and when they spied the car bearing down on them, they turned and ran.
“Stop!” Abby shouted, and Nick ground his foot down on the brakes. The car skidded in the dirt and Abby opened the door.
“Do not leave this car, Abby,” Nick said sternly. “You don’t know who those two kids you’re so keen on chasing are. You’re running on nerves, and you’ve forgotten everything I just told you. You step out and run after those two, and you’ll be dead in a New York minute. Just slow down and shut that damn door.”
Abby reached out and closed the door. “Sorry, Nick, it’s just they’re about the right size.”
“Abby, even if those two kids you were just so desperate to chase were your victims, you can’t just go running off to rescue people who are probably more afraid to go with you than to stay where they are. For them, the devil they know is better than the devil they don’t.”
Abby rolled up her window and, exhaling noisily, folded her arms.
“Just relax, will ya?” he said, sensing her anger. “We’ll keep trying, but take a deep breath. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
“God, for a Pulitzer Prize winner, you sure speak in clichés.”
Nick smiled. “I do believe that’s the second-nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Abby smiled and relaxed in her seat.
They drove on through countless nameless villages, all with small storefronts boasting COCA-COLA SOLD HERE. Children ran all over the roads and alongside the car once they realized foreigners were inside. Little girls and skinny boys stretched out their grimy hands and shouted, “Gimme, mister.” One especially dirty young boy with matted hair, a dirt-stained face, and eyes as black as coal caught up with the car and shouted, “Just gimme, gimme here!” He pointed wildly to his open palm, and Abby hurried to search through her pockets.
Nick shook his head. “Not here, Abby. There’s too many of them and not enough of us. I don’t want to start trouble, and way out here, we got no one looking out for us. Matter of fact”—he began turning the car around in the road—“it’s just about that time. We should head back. There’s nothing out here.”
Abby’s heart sank. She knew he was right, but she didn’t want to give up, not yet. She looked at her watch. It was almost four o’clock already. If Pari and Geeta and Anyu were out here somewhere, they’d probably hide before night fell.
Nick steered the car back onto the dusty road. “Ordinarily, as you well know,” he said with a wink, “I’d suggest the club, but today, I gotta get some sleep. Jesus, I’m beat, just beat. You okay?”
“Oh, Nick, thanks, but I know you’re tired. It’s all right. We can catch up tomorrow—you can tell me all about your trip.”
“Oh shit. That’s right. I forgot already.”
“Nothing noteworthy, then?” Abby asked, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice.
“Just the opposite—I have plenty to tell you, but it can wait till tomorrow. You at the house or the clinic?”
“Tomorrow’s Thursday, so both.”
“I’ll pick you up at the clinic then.” Nick parked in front of Abby’s house. “In the early afternoon, all right? We can go to the rescue house and then the club.”
Abby leaned over and planted a quick kiss on Nick’s stubbly cheek. “It’s a date.” She climbed out and shut the door behind her. “I’m really glad you’re back, Nick.” She smiled—glad was a
bit of an understatement, and though she didn’t know quite what was going on, she did know Nick Sinclair had stirred something in her.
Nick smiled and ran his hand along the stubble on his chin. “I’m pretty happy about that myself.”
Chapter 22
Pari and Geeta were running just ahead. “Catch us, Abby,” Geeta screeched. Abby sprinted, but the girls seemed to get farther and farther away, and each time Abby was sure she was gaining on them, they slipped from her grasp.
“Wait,” Abby shouted. “Wait for me.” But the girls were too far away to hear her warning, and when they turned a bend, Abby lost sight of them. She picked up her pace, but the girls were nowhere in sight.
“Geeta, Pari,” she shouted, but their names echoed back in the quiet of the day. She ran until she fell to the ground in exhaustion.
“Abby,” Geeta called suddenly, and when Abby looked up, she saw him, the tall, thin, bespectacled man. He was grinning and holding Geeta over his shoulder. Geeta waved wildly, and Abby saw the sparkling bracelet on her wrist. The familiar diamonds, rubies, and sapphires twinkled obscenely on the tiny girl’s arm, and Abby pulled herself to her feet.
“Geeta,” she shouted, “get away from him!”
But Geeta was tight in his grip, and Pari was at his side, her hand tucked firmly into his. The man turned and looked at Abby and smiled.
A choking sob escaped from Abby’s lips. “You bastard!” she shouted, running after them. “Let them go.”
But she lost sight of them again, and when they turned the next corner, they were swallowed up by the city’s streets.
The girls were gone.
• • •
She pulled herself up and looked around. Shit, she thought as the pounding began in the back of her head. She reached for her bottle of Motrin and gulped down two pills. The unrelenting morning sun seeped in through the drawn shade, and already Abby could feel the heat of the day pulsing there. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Maybe there’d be news today.
When she headed into the dining room, Najeela was there, a smile on her lips. “Good morning, you!”
The Bracelet Page 20
