by Robin Mahle
“Pleasure.” The detective returned the greetings and proceeded to his desk where four other officers were sitting. “Ms. Sala is in the back in our interrogation room.” Garrett picked up a sketch from his desk. “This is what she gave us. Look familiar to you?”
Nick examined the picture and handed it to Kate. “No.” He looked back to the detective. “Can we speak to Ms. Sala?”
Garrett nodded and led them to the small interrogation room near the back of the old building that had bars on all the windows.
The detective opened the door and inside was a young woman, not more than twenty, sitting at a table. When she looked over at the new arrivals, Kate briefly cast her eyes away. The woman had suffered abuse at the hands of her captor and it was a sight for which she was not prepared. “Has this woman seen a doctor?” Kate immediately asked.
“Yes, ma’am. She was taken to the local hospital before coming here. I can get you the report from the doctor, although we don’t have the results of the rape kit tests.”
“Thank you. We’ll take what you’ve got,” Nick replied. He stepped toward the too-thin woman who’d been given someone’s spare clothes to put on by the look of her. “Hello, Ms. Sala. I’m Special Agent Nick Scarborough and this is Special Agent Trainee Kate Reid.”
“You an FBI agent?” the woman asked Kate in what sounded to Kate like a Russian accent.
“I’m working toward it.”
“That’s cool.” The woman returned her attention to Nick. “I already told them everything I could. I just want to go home now.”
“Where’s home, Ms. Sala?” Nick asked.
“Ukraine.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
“They come and tell us we can make lots of money here. I had nothing back home. None of us do. And so I came here.” She turned away for a moment. “But then they put us in this old shithole of a house. Told us we had to stay there until we were needed. And I thought, needed? Needed for what? Work? Except it wasn’t no kind of work I was looking for.” She wiped away the swell of tears in her eyes.
“Ms. Sala, what can you tell me about the man who held you captive?”
“Men. There were many men, but only one who mattered. They would take us, me and another one or two girls, and make us wear, eh…” It was clear she was trying to find the English word and began making gestures of flowing garments. “Pretty underwear, and we’d have to parade in front of these men. And if we were not chosen, we went back to the house.”
“What happened when one of the girls was chosen?” Kate asked.
“I don’t know. They never came back.”
Kate looked to the detective and then to Nick. It seemed they all understood what it was this woman was intimating and it fit in with what they already believed this investigation was really about.
“How were you able to escape?” Nick asked.
“I told the detective that I waited until the man who was guarding us, I waited until he was, you know, with one of the other girls, because that’s what he would do. And the drugs were starting to wear off and so I started feeling better and I knew if I didn’t get out of there, I might never get out.”
“You were drugged?” Kate asked.
“We were all being drugged. To keep us from running.”
“We’ve already sent our guys to find the place,” Garrett began. “She was able to give us the address, but when my men got there, it was empty.”
“They moved ‘em,” Nick replied as he pushed up from the chair. “No doubt the moment they realized Ms. Sala was gone. Son of a bitch.” He looked at the detective. “We’re going to need to get her someplace safe and try to run this composite sketch through the database, see if we can find out who this man is.” Nick turned back to the woman. “We’re going to put you someplace safe, okay? We’ll get you cleaned up and something to eat too. You’re going to be fine, Ms. Sala.”
Nick turned toward Kate, but before he could speak, the woman interrupted. “These men, they come to our neighborhoods and take the girls. They take them from the streets; anywhere they can. They had six girls when I escaped. Some couldn’t have been older than fifteen.”
“Christ.” Garrett shook his head.
Kate approached the young, battered woman. “I’m so sorry for what’s happened to you, ma’am. But please know that we will find whoever did this to you and we will find those other girls.” She moved toward the exit, ignoring the telling look from Nick. She already knew she shouldn’t have said what she did, but there was no way in hell whoever was kidnapping those women—girls was going to get away with it.
Kate waited outside for Nick and Detective Garrett to emerge.
“That was quite a claim you made, Trainee Reid,” Garrett said, placing special emphasis on the word, trainee.
“I’m sorry, detective. I know I overstepped.”
“Well, I only hope that you and Agent Scarborough can keep your promise.” Garrett continued along the corridor toward the bullpen. “I’ll keep you informed, Agent Scarborough, of any progress. We’ve already got forensics out there analyzing the scene.”
“You mind if we go and have a look?” Nick asked.
Garrett placed his hands on his hips. “Look, I know you feds got a job to do, but so do we. Now, I’d appreciate it if you let my team handle the crime scene for now. I’ll be sure to hand over any information we find. No offense.”
“None taken, detective,” Nick replied. “It’s only a matter of time before you see several of us feds hanging around anyway.”
“When that time comes, Agent Scarborough, you’ll have this department’s full cooperation.” Garrett sat down at his desk, having clearly ended the conversation.
“Thank you for your time, detective. I’m sure we’ll be in touch. Good afternoon.”
“Good afternoon, agents.” Garrett didn’t bother to look up, instead speaking at his computer monitor.
“Well, that could have gone better,” Kate said, stepping inside Nick’s SUV.
“You can’t be too hard on the local guys. They’re just doing their job and protecting their territories. We get that sometimes. Unfortunately, I don’t think it’ll be the last time we see Detective Garrett or Ms. Sala.”
6
The passageway echoed with approaching footsteps that grabbed Kate’s attention. Her own steps were soft and not like the lumbering thuds sounding from behind. She stopped and waited, noticing that it was Mike Hewitt jogging to catch up to her. He had been a cop for the past five years and was the type of man who seemed to relish in the defeat of others. The undesirable quality ensured he had few friends at the Academy. And Kate was hesitant to stop in the first place.
“Reid, hold up,” he said.
She’d returned to campus from the visit to Richmond and the battered Ruxandra Sala and was on her way to get dinner from the cafeteria. “What’s going on?” Those who knew her would easily spot the plastic smile she wore from a mile away. Fortunately, Hewitt wasn’t one of them.
“Did you hear?” He placed his hands on his hips and appeared to pause with much anticipation in hopes she would take the bait.
She prepared for what was sure to be the conveyance of delightfully upsetting news. “I’ve been out all day. Hear what?”
“Munoz is out. She went home today.”
“What? Why?” This was not the news she was expecting. There wasn’t a chance in hell her roommate had failed any part of her training.
“I don’t know exactly, but I guess it was her choice. She wanted to go home.”
Kate considered Hewitt’s now sparkling eyes. He’d gotten what he’d wanted. Delivering the disappointing news and seeing the look of defeat on her face. This just didn’t seem possible. Firstly, because Jocelyn hadn’t called or texted her to relay the news herself, and secondly, because Kate had come to appreciate their friendship. She was one of the few female friends she had anymore—and now that was gone.
“Didn’t she tell you?”
“No. I gues
s I’ve got the room all to myself now. Not much consolation, though.”
Hewitt raised his hand to Kate’s shoulder. “I’m sure she felt like she’d let you down and was afraid to tell you. It must have been hard for her to leave her family behind.”
Perhaps he had felt the slightest bit of empathy. “I guess so,” she replied.
“I gotta head back. I saw you and thought I’d let you know. See you later?”
“Sure. Thanks, Mike.”
Kate continued down the hall, not noticing Hewitt swaggering in the opposite direction. With her appetite having vanished along with Jocelyn, she returned to the now-empty dorm room. Jocelyn’s side had been cleaned out. She knew Kate would be out today and must have figured it was the best time for her to pack up and leave.
Dropping to her bed, she looked over the now vacant bunk next to hers. Kate reached for the chain around her neck and started twirling the ring that dangled on its end, an action that had become completely involuntary. It was the engagement ring Marshall had intended to give her. It offered comfort, familiarity, and Kate needed that right now.
Jocelyn’s departure was a reminder that this was no easy path. In fact, it had been more difficult that she’d imagined. But with Nick’s support, she pushed herself far beyond her comfort zone.
Whether it was this latest disappointing news or the fact that the memory of Ruxandra Sala’s appearance simply couldn’t be squelched, Kate began to consider what had happened to the young woman. Labeling her a woman seemed a stretch. She couldn’t have been more than twenty years old, but she was beautiful. Even through her marked face and swollen eyes, anyone could see that. Thick black hair and caramel-colored skin, she could have easily passed for a model.
The young girl wore a blindfold, causing her to trip over the steps until finally reaching what she thought was the threshold—an opened doorway. The man behind her yelled at her in a language she understood little. “Molim, ja ne razumijem. Molim te, nemoj me povrijediti.” Please, I do not understand. Please, do not hurt me, she said.
“Just get inside!” the man yelled.
“Sorry, sorry.” The young Serbian woman had learned enough English to get by, considering she’d only been in the country less than a year. Most of the words learned were the result of watching television shows.
It had been three days and Madlena had been on the move almost the entire time. Never allowed to sleep more than a few hours at a time; awakened by the cries of the other girls who had the misfortune of traveling with her, and suffering the effects of drugs used to keep her sedated.
Hungry, filthy, and having been violated more times than she cared to remember, Madlena prayed they would push enough drugs in her arms to kill her because this was a fate much worse than death. She wondered if her father was looking for her and if her sister was okay. Thinking of them helped suppress the reality she now faced.
The girls were so tightly packed into the dilapidated homes in which they were forced to stay that the stench was unbearable. Urine, body odor, and sex. It was enough to make anyone vomit, but there was virtually nothing in Madlena’s stomach left to wretch. Already too thin, she hadn’t looked in a mirror in three days, but when she felt along her rib cage, she was sure they protruded more than what she remembered.
Now, as she stepped inside wherever it was they’d taken her this time, she’d regretted ever coming to this country. It turned out to be no better here, at least not for someone like her.
A hard shove to her back courtesy of the man that towered behind her and Madlena was on the ground. She pulled her knees to her chest and the high-heeled shoes she wore in a life that appeared would never see her return were making it hard to stay in that position, but she did her best not to move. There were consequences for such prohibited actions.
“Help me.”
Madlena, still wearing the blindfold, turned in the direction of the sound that was more like a whimper coming from another girl next to her. “Shhh.” She knew what happened to the ones who spoke out of turn.
A man, she had no idea who, or how many there were, yanked the blindfold from her eyes and the light made her squint. It didn’t take long for her focus to clear and the comprehension to return that she was in yet another run-down house. Madlena’s back rested against a wall and on that wall were spindles of a staircase. Next to her was the girl who whispered for help. Madlena had none to offer. None of them did.
In the room directly in front of her, she spotted three men. Two were seated and one paced as if trying to solve a problem. He must have felt her stare because he whipped his head around and glared at her. Madlena turned away, fearing retribution for her curiosity. And although she could no longer look at them, she listened—and waited.
The only indication of time was the sun shining through the dirty stained-glass panel inside the front door. It was noticeably lower than when they’d arrived. Three girls, including Madlena, still sat on the floor up against the wall of the staircase. Her legs were asleep and her secured arms ached, so the fact that her ass had turned numb didn’t seem quite as bothersome.
That would all go away soon, though, because her mind was clearing. The sedatives were wearing off and when that happened, it meant they were going to be moved again, or taken away. Three days ago, when she’d been taken, there were five other girls there when she joined the group. Now, only herself and two others remained. The rest were gone; where, she didn’t know, but they hadn’t returned. With only three of them left, Madlena wondered who would be next.
She raised her bound hands to her right ear and carefully pulled out the cubic zirconia earring. Lowering her hands again, one of her captors glanced over toward her. She pretended to scratch an itch on her face. When he looked away again, she set the earring on the ground and rolled it behind her back.
If she was the one chosen today, someone, she prayed, would know that she had been here. That she had existed.
Kate offered her “expert testimony” in the mock trial that was part of her training. She'd felt fairly confident of her performance and because many agents were asked to testify in court, this was an important skill to understand. But it did bring back a time, not long ago, when she was sitting in the same courtroom as Lewis Branson during the Highway Hunter trial. She quietly observed from the back row as all three of her friends – Scarborough, Myers, and Agent Jameson – took the stand. There had been many times during the two-month trial when she'd wanted to confront Branson. Nick put a stop to any such reckless endeavors, though, and reminded her that it wasn't Branson she'd wanted to harm. It was Shalot, and he was already dead.
“Hey. You heading home?” Will had already begun packing up while Kate was still fumbling with the notes the instructor had handed out after the trial.
“Yes, definitely. I’m looking forward to sleeping in my own home tonight. Without Jocelyn, it just feels weird being in the dorm room now. I don’t know why. I live by myself; I should be used to it. So what about you? What’re you doing tonight?”
The end of another week had already arrived. It didn’t seem possible that she had only eight weeks left here at the base. She’d been busy working odds and ends details for the investigation, but nothing had turned up on Corbett yet and so Nick just kept telling her to hang tight, something would break. It hadn’t and the only upside was that she’d been able to devote more time to her studies. But the girls and the case never left her mind. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she began to realize that she wasn’t all that different from them. It was easy to identify with the idea of coming to America to start a new, and hopefully better, life. She’d pushed her own reset button for a second time already. Once when she left Spencer, and again when Marshall left her. Being here, at the Academy, was her new and hopefully better life. It was doubtful she’d get a third reboot.
“Nothing much, just study probably. I don’t know. It gets pretty quiet around here on the weekends and I suppose I’ve got nothing but time. Don’t have a pla
ce yet since I still don’t know what field office I’ll be assigned to. Are you planning on being here in the morning?”
“Do I have a choice?” They both laughed. “I’ll be here.” Kate felt the phone in her pocket buzz and cut the laughter short. “Hang on a second, I gotta take this.” She answered the line, “Reid here. Yeah, of course. I can be there in half an hour. Okay. Bye.”
“What was that all about?” Will seemed to notice the glint in her eye.
“I have to go to the field office. Agent Scarborough’s got a lead on the case. I’ll see you tomorrow?” Kate hardly waited for a reply before she was off, leaving Will behind.
“Sure.” His halfhearted gesture of goodbye went ignored.
Kate scrambled for her keys and stepped inside the car. Her excitement at the news, however, made her careless. By the time she reached the guard gates to exit the base, she’d forgotten to retrieve her ID badge. The FBI had its own police force at Quantico and no one went in or out without identification.
The guard already appeared irritated by her lack of preparedness as the growing line of cars formed behind her. She fumbled in her bag a while longer and finally found her badge, showing it to the man who stood impatiently outside her window. A nod of his head and the gate lifted, and Kate was gone.
Heat ascended in waves off the vast federal building known to those in the industry as the WFO, or Washington field office. As evening set in, the relentless temperatures remained above normal. Combined with the hour of peak traffic and summer tourists, Kate arrived hot, both mentally and physically.
“Sorry it took me so long.” Her brow glistened and her FBI-issued polo shirt did little to hide the embarrassing dampness under her arms.
However, Nick seemed preoccupied and hardly took notice of her arrival. He glanced up at her. “That’s fine. Come on in and have a seat.” He continued to study his monitor. “Got a call earlier today from our friend, Detective Garrett, in Richmond. They found another drop house.” He turned his attention to Kate. “Only it wasn’t empty this time. There were two dead women inside. He says they’re waiting on labs, but is pretty sure they overdosed.”
