by Chris Angus
“Sure, but it’s a family business and you and I both know it would be impossible to prove anything at all in that area.”
She nodded silently.
“Anyway, there may be the possibility that she’s depressed for another reason, beyond the endless days making hoagies in that hot, windowless box of a store.”
“Such as?”
He shrugged. Here he knew he was on shaky ground, for there really was nothing but speculation. “Abuse maybe. Hell, near as I can see, she’s practically a slave. She’s almost never allowed out unless it’s to work at some other job. She has no friends or social life …”
Sheila interrupted. “That’s the norm for most Muslim girls, Garrett. We’ve got plenty of them in Halifax. Their lives are pure exploitation. They work, marry who they’re told to, have lots of kids, work some more, and grow old. That’s it. The divine teachings of Mohammed. Most don’t even go to regular schools. Many courts have allowed them to attend religious schools instead.”
“I know all that. All I want is to see if we might help one girl with one problem. I’m not asking to change the divine plan of the universe.”
“Changing the divine plan is what I do every day in here, Garrett. Besides having sex, making money, jet-setting around the world, and bungee jumping, that is. What do you want?”
“I want you to spring Lila from Lloyd’s clutches for a few days and remand her to my custody. I think the two girls might be good for each other. If they can develop a friendship, something neither one of them has ever had, as near as I can tell, it just might make a difference in both their lives.”
Her brow furrowed. “Lila, I can do. No problem. But I can’t take Ayesha away from her family and hand her over to you. How are you going to get them together?”
“A friend of mine, woman named Sarah Pye, knows the family. She’ll ask the father if she can hire Ayesha to clean house. If we make the offer attractive enough, I have no doubt he’ll agree. Then we’ll simply put them together and see what happens.”
Sheila sighed and picked up the phone. “You really need to get a life, Garrett. Most of these girls are beyond saving, you know.”
“Then why do you do it?”
“I’m a lousy bungee jumper.”
17
LILA HADN’T BEEN THIS RELAXED in weeks. She sat back in Garrett’s car, talking a blue streak. She wore cut-off jeans and a tank top and had shucked her sandals to put her feet up on the dash.
“I can’t believe you actually got me out of there,” she said. “That’s so cool! Did you see the look on Lloyd’s face when you told him? I thought he was gonna have a stroke.”
“Well, it’s only temporary, and I had to pull a few strings to make Lloyd agree. But I really think you can help me out on this.”
She grew serious, like a child being told there was work to do. “I understand. You want me to try to find out if this kid is in trouble—maybe with her dad, who might be one sick son of a bitch. Look, I’ll be able to tell, okay? I’ve dealt with enough of these perverts to spot one a mile away.”
“You’re not going to meet the father, Lila. You’re going to have to figure out what’s going on strictly by talking to Ayesha. My friend Sarah agreed to put you up at her house for a few days. It’s nice, on the ocean, you can relax, go for hikes, whatever you want. And Sarah will get Ayesha to come over as much as possible, on the guise of hiring her to do some cleaning.”
She made a face. “Cleaning sucks. I made more money in a weekend than my mom could in a month.” She rolled down the window and spat out her gum. “Don’t worry. I’ll find out what’s going on, no problem. You can shitcan the hikes, though. I’ve had enough galloping around the woods following Lloyd’s tight little ass to last me till I’m a zillion years old.” She brightened. “Maybe your friend will take us shopping in the city. Nothing helps a bunch of gals get to know each other better than that.”
Sarah and Ayesha were planting flowers when they arrived. After introductions, the girls seemed to be getting along, so Sarah invited Garrett inside for tea, leaving them alone.
“I’m a little nervous about this,” Garrett said, as they sat at the kitchen table. “It’s kind of like a clash of cultures, you know. Lila’s about as experienced as they come in the carnal ways of the world, while Ayesha, from what you’ve told me, is a pretty typical Muslim girl, which is to say, virtually no contact at all with men outside the family.”
“That may be the reason it works, Garrett. Opposites attract. Anyway, if Ayesha’s being abused, she’s got more experience than you may think. It could give them some common ground. We’ll just have to see what develops.” She got up and poured herself another cup of tea. “By the way, I wanted to thank you for getting on Roland about the compressor. You were right, he backed down as soon as you confronted him. Didn’t even wait the week to turn it off. Grace said she saw him removing the bait and driving away with it in his truck. Peace reigneth in the cove and none too soon.”
“How so?”
“It was getting a little out of hand. Ingrid was really toying with him, exposing herself on their deck. Roland was asking for it, of course, by bringing his boat in so close, but … well … I’m just glad it’s done.”
“Well, it’s only one battle. Roland may back off on the direct confrontations, but he’s never going to be a guy they can borrow a cup of sugar from. He’s pretty much all bluster, but he still knows how to hold a grudge. Sounds like Ingrid was just rubbing salt on the wound. I should probably stop by and talk to them, maybe head off anything more serious.”
“Just be prepared to down a pitcher of Manhattans if you go any time after noon.”
They were interrupted by the sounds of the two girls screaming with laughter outside. Garrett went over and looked out the window with Sarah. Lila and Ayesha were rolling on the grass, holding their sides in absolute stitches over something.
“I guess that’s a good sign,” said Sarah.
“You think so?”
“That’s the first smile, much less laugh, I’ve seen out of Ayesha … ever. She enjoyed working at the ladies’ but was always pretty reserved.” She nodded at the girls who had recovered and were now talking intently. “If nothing else, Lila looks like she’s a tonic for Ayesha’s depression.”
Garrett leaned over Sarah and kissed her neck. “Speaking of tonics, we never finished what we started on the island.”
“It wasn’t very romantic, was it, after finding that poor girl?”
“No. Anyway, I’ve got to go to Halifax to take care of some business. Maybe we could plan another outing when I get back?”
She turned and looked in his eyes. “Is it dangerous? Your business?”
He looked away. “Probably not.”
When he turned back, a single tear was running down her cheek.
“What?”
“The way you said that was just how my husband sounded when I asked about something he was working on. He never wanted to worry me either.” She pushed him away and went and stood over the stove. “I’m sorry. It’s just something I have to deal with. Why the hell can’t I fall in love with a man who transports plutonium for a living or something safe like that?”
“Did you say fall in love?”
“Yes, damn it.” She looked at him. “I don’t commit easily, Gar. Guess I’m just a sucker for a man in uniform.”
“I haven’t worn my uniform since I got here. It was part of the deal I made with Tuttle. Easier to blend in right off the bat.”
“Oh, shut up and kiss me.”
Which was precisely what they were doing when the girls came inside.
“Uh-oh,” said Lila. “Boy-girl stuff happening.” She cocked her head to one side. “Pay attention, Ayesha. This just might be the real thing. It can be hard to tell, though.”
Ayesha smiled shyly. “My mom and dad never do that,” she said.
Garrett squeezed Sarah’s hand. “I’m out of here while I’m ahead of the game. You girls can talk all you want about bo
y-girl stuff after I’m gone.”
* * *
Coast Guardsman Tom Whitman appeared with Lonnie at eight o’clock outside the main gate of the Halifax Public Gardens. Tom had three solo kayaks in the back of his pickup, including one with an open cockpit. With Lonnie sitting in the cab, there was no room for Garrett in the front seat, so he followed them in his own car to Lake Micmac.
They passed the private dock where the men from Madame Liu’s had set out and drove another mile down the road to a public launch site.
The lake was a popular place for small boaters, and while it was a bit unusual for people to head out this late in the evening, there were still a few cars in the lot. By the time they approached the island, it was completely dark, with just a sliver of moon to navigate by.
But light wasn’t going to be their problem. One entire end of the island consisted of an extensive compound that was lit up like Piccadilly Circus on New Year’s Eve.
“I can’t believe this,” said Tom, as they floated side by side fifty yards offshore. “It looks like the Playboy Mansion on steroids. Tennis courts, swimming pool, some sort of gazebo thing over there. That really big structure could be a gymnasium, for God’s sake. There must be fifteen buildings.”
“Keep your voice down,” said Garrett. “It carries over the water.” But he had to admit he was equally impressed with the extent of the grounds. The sheer size of the place was going to make it difficult to investigate thoroughly. And the bright lights were no help either.
They could hear voices and music coming from one of the buildings near shore. As they watched, two men came out a door, followed by several girls. The men were obviously drunk, and they pushed and pawed at the girls as they made their way to a smaller bungalow.
“The honeymoon suite,” said Lonnie, but there was an edge to his voice.
“Come on,” Garrett said. “We’ll go round the back side and land.”
On the dark side of the island, they pulled the boats out of the water and hid them in the brush. Lonnie led the way. In Iraq, he’d always been the best at sneaking up on the enemy, a not inconsiderable feat given his size. He could move through the woods like a Passamaquoddy hunter. They circled the compound, then crawled up behind a long, low bungalow that was dimly lit. Once they were in place, Garrett crouched at a window that had heavy bars on it and peered inside.
“What do you see?” Tom asked.
“It’s empty. But it’s kind of strange. There’s probably thirty beds lined up in there.”
“Maybe it is a resort.”
“A high-class place like this is going to have first-class rooms, not dormitory-style sleeping arrangements—with iron bars on the windows to boot.”
“Maybe it’s for the help,” said Lonnie. “Especially if they’re illegals.”
“I might believe that if I hadn’t seen what went on between Madame Liu and the men we followed here.” Garrett peered inside again. “I’m getting an idea about this place. Come on. I want to get a look inside the main building.”
“Are you nuts?” said Tom. “This place is lit up like Yankee Stadium. We can’t get close without being seen.”
“Actually, the compound’s been empty,” said Garrett. “Aside from those two men and the girls, I haven’t seen another soul. Come on.”
Before the others could object, Garrett raced across the central courtyard. With a muttered curse, Tom followed, while Lonnie brought up the rear like an oversize caboose. They ducked behind a row of shrubs beside the building, then cautiously raised their heads until they could see inside.
Garrett stared in amazement. Inside was a large central fireplace, crackling with logs despite the warm evening. Sitting in chairs facing the flames was the man they’d followed from Madame Liu’s and beside him, big as life and actually wearing clothes for a change, was Lloyd.
There was a sudden cracking sound as someone stepped on a branch and Garrett felt the cold barrel of a pistol against his neck. He started to raise his hands, seeing that Tom already had his up. Lonnie was nowhere to be seen.
“Well, what have we got here?” the man said. “Couple of Peeping Toms—or maybe something worse. Step out here in the light.” As Garrett started to comply, he caught a flash of movement in the corner of his eye and almost faster than he could see, Lonnie had disarmed the man and laid him out flat with a single blow to the back of the neck.
“Remind me to ask how you do that sometime,” said Garrett, staring at the man.
“What do we do with him?” said Lonnie.
“Leave him. I’ve seen enough to have a pretty good idea what this place is used for.”
Tom stared at him. “You wouldn’t care to share it with the rest of us, would you?”
“My guess is this is a central clearing house for new girls from out of the country. That’s why the dormitory. They keep them locked in there, while they ‘condition’ them.”
“Condition them?” Lonnie asked. He had a funny look in his eyes.
“It’s why the rest of the place looks like a Playboy club. They bring high-paying clientele in to help with the processing. I bet it’s a pretty popular corporate getaway weekend. Boating, tennis, lounging by the pool and, oh yeah, all the freebies you could ask for.”
Lonnie’s face was still. He had an aversion to perversion. It was unusual for someone in his profession, but he had a moral streak a mile wide, instilled by his grandmother, who had raised him. “I say we take the place down,” he said.
“How the hell do we do that?” asked Tom.
“Burn it to the ground,” Lonnie replied without hesitation.
Garrett was tempted to agree with him. But he had the sense they’d just started to pull at a thread of something that might be whole a lot bigger.
“It’s an idea, all right,” he said. “But let’s find out more before we go off half-cocked. I want to see where all of this leads. We’ve got Lloyd connected, and I’m going to be quite interested to see how he explains his presence here.”
18
BY THE TIME GARRETT GOT back to Misery Bay, it was already morning, a windy, gray Nova Scotia day. He wondered if the remnants of the hurricane Sarah had mentioned might be moving in. The sky was angry and low, which was how he felt after mulling over the professional setup they’d uncovered, designed solely for the purpose of exploiting young girls. He wondered, too, if this whole situation was precisely what Tuttle had in mind as a way of keeping him on the job.
Well, it wasn’t going to work. Straightening things out here, if possible, would be his last official duty. Then he’d be ready for retirement and maybe something else new, with Sarah.
He pulled into Sarah’s just after nine a.m. There was a strange car in the driveway. As he went up to the door, it opened and Sarah emerged with Kitty Wells in tow, holding onto her dress to keep it from blowing up.
“I’ve been having a nice talk with your partner,” said Sarah, smiling sweetly at him.
“My who?”
“Well, Garrett, we are going to be working together.” Kitty came over and put her free hand through his arm and walked him toward her car.
“Look, Miss Wells, we are not working together. I said I’d give you any information that I thought could be released. So far there isn’t any.”
“Oh, that’s okay, Garrett,” she oozed, giving him a little squeeze. “I’m just working on background. You might be surprised what I uncover. It could be helpful to you. Anyway, I’m off now to meet the people at Ecum Secum. Find out what’s what over there. See you all later.”
She climbed into the car, letting go of her skirt, which the wind compliantly picked up, exposing a generous portion of thigh. It was an action for the benefit of Sarah, he suspected, as much as himself. He watched her drive off as a way not to look at Sarah for as long as possible.
“What a charming girl,” Sarah said. “She’s been telling me all about how closely you two are working. Practically in bed together.”
He grimaced. “Look, I o
nly met her yesterday. She wants to kick-start her national career with the killings here. It was probably a mistake to tell her I’d give her what I could. But sometimes it helps to have someone in the press funnel the right stuff to the media.”
“Well, and isn’t she the perfect choice?”
He detected a need to change the subject. “How did she get on to Ecum Secum, anyway?”
“She saw the sign on her drive down. ‘Troubled Youth’ is apparently code to reporters that stands for ‘News at Eleven.’ She asked me about it and …” She looked sheepish. “I’m afraid I told her what I knew about the place.”
“Well, maybe it will keep her occupied. I can’t really see Lloyd spending too much time explaining his operation to a reporter.”
“Oh, I don’t know. From what you told me, she’s exactly his type. I don’t think there’s much she wouldn’t do to get a story from someone—including you.”
“You’ve got that right. She practically invited herself to move in with me.”
“And you turned her down?” She leaned in, the wind blowing her hair about her face and kissed him on the mouth. “There might be hope for you yet.”
“I didn’t exactly turn her down. It was more like my two-seater of an outhouse that gave her pause.” He looked around. “Where are the girls?”
“They walked into town to buy some ice cream. Thank God. It might have really been a mess if Kitty had got hold of them.” She looked at the sky. “I hope they don’t get rained on.”
“Well, thanks for small favors. How about inviting me in out of the weather?”
“Tea?”
“I was thinking of something a bit stronger.”
“Why Mr. Barkhouse, it’s not even ten in the morning!”
“It was a long night. Give me a drink and I’ll tell you about it.”
Inside, he relaxed on the couch with a glass of Glen Breton and told her about what they’d found on Micmac Island.
Her eyes grew wide. “Can’t you close the place down?”
“It’s a possibility. But it’s not against the law to have a ritzy resort or even a building with bars on the windows. We have to catch them in the act.”
