Her Silent Spring

by Melinda Woodhall

  Pushing away the useless thought, Mack forced his mind back to the matter at hand. He couldn’t let himself fall into one of his dark moods. Not unless he wanted to screw up his long history of flying under the radar.

  He’d broken the golden rule Donnie had taught him, and if he wasn’t smart, he might end up paying for it.

  Never take a girl from your own town again, Mack. It’ll get you caught.

  Mack had followed the rule for years. But then Darla had come along. She’d been special, and she’d only been passing through. He was sure no one would blink an eye if she suddenly left town. Most people moved on from Sky Lake eventually.

  Of course, if someone did raise an alarm, they might be able to track her back to his property. A fresh sheen of sweat broke out on Mack’s forehead despite the cool spring breeze, and he headed for the Ford, suddenly anxious to get away from the old place.

  There was always the remote chance that someone would come along and start asking questions. Donnie’s deep, rough voice played in his head.

  You never know when the feds will show up, so always be ready to run.

  Mack climbed back into the Ford and started the engine. He drove east toward Sky Lake, heading into the sun. He decided he’d better heed Donnie’s warning; he needed to get ready to run.

  Chapter Two

  The persistent buzz of her cellphone on the bedside table brought Veronica Lee up and out of a deep sleep. Eyes still shut, she reached a sleepy hand out and silenced the unwelcome noise, then relaxed back into the soft pillow. She’d almost managed to drift off again when movement at the foot of her bed elicited a resigned sigh.

  “You aren’t going to let me sleep in, are you, Winston?”

  She didn’t have to look down to know that the big orange tabby cat would be staring at her, eager for her to wake up. He had a routine to keep, and he didn’t appreciate her disrupting it.

  Forcing one eye open, she squinted at the bright strips of sunlight shining through the slats of her window blinds. The sun was already high in the sky, and she sat upright with a groan, grabbing her phone and staring at the time with bleary eyes.

  Veronica groaned again and dropped the phone back on the table, then scooped Winston up into a tired hug.

  “I’m glad you were here to wake me up,” she murmured, carrying him to the bedroom door. “I have an interview in less than an hour.”

  She opened the door and dropped the big cat into the hall. He quickly padded toward the stairs as she turned and crossed to her closet. If she dressed quickly, she’d still have time to get into town in time for the interview she’d scheduled.

  A new source had come forward with information related to her ongoing series on organized trafficking networks and their victims. Veronica didn’t want to miss the opportunity to speak to the young woman and hear her story.

  She knew how hard it was for trafficking victims to build up the courage to talk, especially to a reporter, and showing up late to their first meeting was unlikely to inspire the woman’s trust.

  Scanning the clothes in her closet, Veronica decided the fresh spring weather called for a change from the dark colors she’d been wearing lately. She pulled on an apple green jacket and matching skirt, then turned to face the mirror.

  Her long dark hair contrasted nicely with the pale green material, and she suddenly felt a surge of determination.

  Spring had come; it was a season of renewal and rebirth, and Veronica was hoping that she, too, might get a chance to start fresh. The last year had been incredibly difficult, but maybe it was possible for her to leave the past behind and focus on the future.

  And I can start by focusing on getting to Hope House on time.

  Hurrying down the stairs and into the hall, Veronica followed the aroma of freshly brewed coffee into the kitchen. She had just enough time to fill a thermos and let her mother know she was leaving.

  Ling Lee stood by the sink, gazing out the kitchen window.

  “Morning, Ma,” Veronica said, joining her mother at the window, her eyes drawn to the backyard where a small figure knelt over a bed of flowers. “Skylar’s in the garden already? Or did she sleep out there?”

  Veronica watched the morning sun play off Skylar’s silvery blonde hair as the girl worked over the flowers, and her chest filled with sudden gratitude that they’d found each other.

  “Your sister’s definitely a lark.” Ling’s voice was full of affection as she watched Skylar. “She’s not a night owl like you.”

  It was still surreal to hear Ling refer to Skylar as her sister. For twenty-eight years Veronica had been raised as the only child of a single mother. Then over the winter her father had reappeared, intent on revenge, and Veronica had learned who she really was, and that she had a half-sister who needed her help.

  Accepting that a violent fugitive like Donovan Locke had been her father was hard, and she didn’t like to think about all the people he’d hurt during the years he’d spent hiding on his secluded ranch in Montana’s Bitterroot Valley.

  Before her father had shown up in Willow Bay, everything Veronica had known about herself and her family had been a carefully constructed façade, intended to hide her and her mother from her father’s wrath.

  But now that Locke was dead, and Skylar, the daughter he’d hidden away from the world for so long had been found, Veronica was starting to come to terms with her new reality.

  Against all odds they had survived to become a little family, and Veronica wanted to believe that the trauma lay behind them, and that now they would all get a chance to heal and move on with their lives.

  If only she could shake the sense that they were all still in danger, and that the evil that had surrounded her father wasn’t finished with her and Skylar yet.

  That feeling made her want to keep Skylar safe and tucked away from anything or anyone else that could harm her.

  So far, Veronica had only told a few close friends, and Skylar’s counselor, Dr. Reggie Horn, that Skylar was Locke’s daughter, and that her mother had been one of his victims.

  No one else knew that Veronica had a half-sister yet, and she wished she could keep it that way, but she wouldn’t be able to hide the fact forever. Eventually Skylar would be strong enough to stand the scrutiny and the questions. Until then, Veronica was determined to shield her little sister from any more pain.

  Pushing back the disturbing thoughts, Veronica grabbed her thermos off the counter, filled it with steaming hot coffee, and added a generous splash of milk. She screwed on the lid as she adjusted her work bag over her shoulder.

  “And now for the latest local news from Willow Bay…”

  The voice coming from behind her was familiar, and Veronica turned to the little television on the kitchen counter with interest.

  Tenley Frost, Channel Ten’s new morning anchor, sat behind the news desk. Her shiny auburn hair was perfectly arranged, and her cool blue eyes showed no signs of the traumatic ordeal she’d barely survived only months before.

  “She certainly bounced back fast,” Ling said, nodding at the small screen. “I guess getting fired by Mayor Hadley was a blessing in disguise for Tenley, although I’d have loved to have her on my team.”

  “How is the recruiting going?” Veronica asked, checking her watch. “Will you have a team ready to go in time?”

  Ling Lee had won the heated mayoral election in February by a narrow margin and was scheduled to be sworn in as the new mayor of Willow Bay in less than three weeks.

  As the first woman to be elected to the position, Ling was determined to build a talented team to support her as she took on the new role. But it had proven surprisingly hard to find ideal candidates willing to leave the private sector.

  “I won’t have a media relations officer as talented as Tenley Frost, that’s for sure,” Ling complained. “I think Mayor Hadley got rid of her just to spite me.”

  Suppressing a smile, Veronica shook her head.

  “I’m pretty sure Tenley’s late-night acti
vities with Garth Bixby in City Hall played a part as well,” Veronica offered, heading toward the door. “At the very least it gave Hadley the perfect excuse to fire them both after he lost the election.”

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket before Ling could respond. Seeing the name on the display, Veronica raised wide eyes to Ling.

  “It’s Deputy Santino,” she said, tapping on the speaker icon and holding it out so her mother could hear as well.

  “Have you found her?” Veronica asked, too anxious to waste time on pleasantries. “Have you found Skylar’s mother?’

  “That’s why I was calling,” Santino said.

  The U.S. Marshal already sounded tired, even though it wasn’t yet nine o’clock, and she heard frustration in his deep voice.

  “We’ve just gotten back the DNA profiles for the remains found at Locke’s ranch. None of the profiles match Skylar’s profile.”

  His words sent Veronica’s heart plummeting.

  “I’m sorry, I know it’s not what you wanted to hear.”

  Santino sounded as disappointed as she felt. They both knew it would be hard for Skylar to ever find closure if her mother’s body wasn’t found and laid to rest.

  As she disconnected the call, Veronica turned her eyes back to the little window. She’d have to let Skylar know that Santino had called. But that could wait for later. She’d let the girl enjoy the pretty spring day. No need to ruin it for her now.

  As she climbed into her Jeep and headed into town, Veronica vowed she wouldn’t let her sister down. She was an investigative reporter after all. It was her job to hunt down the truth behind a story, no matter how dark, and bring it to light.

  And now my sister needs to know her own story. Atter everything Skylar’s been through, she deserves that much.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  The drive into downtown Willow Bay seemed to take longer than usual as Veronica brooded over Deputy Santino’s phone call. She needed to find out who Skylar’s mother had been and what had happened to her. The question was where and how to get started.

  Arriving at Hope House with only minutes to spare, she pulled into the parking lot and nosed her big red Jeep into a Visitor’s Only space.

  The residential rehabilitation center had opened the year before, quickly becoming a haven for women battling addiction, and Veronica had visited the facility several times during her trafficking investigation.

  She’d been surprised the day before when the facility’s director and senior counselor, had called to invite her to visit a resident who was nearing the end of her treatment.

  It was unusual to get a call from a source’s doctor, but Veronica had readily agreed when she heard the information the resident wanted to share involved her trafficking series.

  Pushing through the rehab center’s big glass door, Veronica approached the reception desk and smiled.

  “I’m here to visit Misty Bradshaw,” she said to the woman behind the desk. “I’m Veronica Lee. I believe she’s expecting me.”

  “Yes, Dr. Horn told me you’d be coming.”

  The receptionist handed Veronica a visitor’s pass.

  “Misty’s already waiting in the rec room. You know the way?”

  Veronica took the pass and nodded, her thoughts already turning to the woman she was about to meet, already preparing herself to once again witness the devastating toll of addiction.

  Most of the women she’d interviewed as part of her trafficking investigation had seemed lost and broken. The pain and shame in their eyes had stayed with Veronica long after the interviews were over, and the trust they placed in her by sharing their stories weighed heavily on her shoulders.

  Yet the possibility that she could save other women from such a fate had kept Veronica working the story, in spite of the danger she faced from exposing ruthless predators and trafficking networks.

  Inhaling deeply, Veronica braced herself as she neared the rec room. A young woman in a crisp white blouse and knee-length skirt stood by the door. She tucked a file under her arm and smiled as Veronica stepped into the room.

  “I’m looking for Misty Bradshaw,” Veronica said, returning the woman’s smile. “The receptionist said she should be in here.”

  Veronica looked around the busy room. Sunlight streamed in through wide windows as women watched the morning news or chatted in small groups.

  “I’m Misty Bradshaw,” the young woman said, sticking out a small hand. “I’m the one who asked Dr. Horn to call you.”

  Trying to hide her surprise, Veronica took the offered hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Misty. I’m Veronica Lee…but I guess you already knew that.”

  “Yes, I watch you all the time on Channel Ten News.” Misty’s shy smile revealed the dimples in her smooth, pale cheeks. “I feel like I already know you. Like I can trust you.”

  Looking over her shoulder to make sure no one else was listening in to their conversation, Misty lowered her voice.

  “That’s why I wanted to talk to you.”

  Veronica studied Misty’s big brown eyes. They were clear and bright. And the woman’s hands appeared to be steady as she tucked a shiny strand of light-brown hair behind one delicate ear, revealing no signs of withdrawal or distress.

  “Well, I’m glad you called.” Veronica was suddenly anxious to hear the young woman’s story. “Let’s find a place to sit down.”

  Moving to the courtyard outside the rec room, they sat at a small patio table. The sun was warm overhead, but a gentle breeze kept it comfortable as Veronica took out her notepad. She gestured toward the file Misty was holding.

  “Is that something you wanted to show me?”

  The young woman looked confused, then shook her head.

  “No, I’m just working on my resume,” she explained. “I need to find a job now that I’m going to be getting out of here.”

  The composed young woman certainly wasn’t what Veronica had been expecting. She cocked her head and raised her eyebrows.

  “So, what is it you wanted to tell me?” Veronica asked. “Dr. Horn said it had something to do with my trafficking series. Is that true?”

  Misty nodded. A shadow fell over the young woman’s eyes and she wrapped her arms around herself, her confident demeanor slipping.

  “I just didn’t know who I could trust.”

  Her eyes searched the empty courtyard.

  “Trust with what?” Veronica asked, beginning to sense the fear behind the girl’s words.

  “I have information regarding a…a trafficker…a predator.”

  Considering Misty’s words, Veronica nodded.

  “Okay, but why call me?” she asked. “Why not go to the police and file a report?”

  A bead of sweat worked its way down the side of Misty’s neck and disappeared behind the crisp white collar of her blouse.

  “I heard that a policeman was helping the traffickers caught in Willow Bay a few months back.” Misty’s voice faltered and she cleared her throat. “I’m…scared of the police.”

  “Does your information have something to do with those same traffickers?” Veronica asked, feeling her own heart start to beat a little faster. “Do you have information about the Diablo Syndicate?”

  Misty hesitated, then nodded.

  “I know the police killed Diablo, but there are still people out there who were working for him.” She inhaled deeply, then squared her small shoulders. “I know who they are. Or at least, I know who one of them is, and I know where she lives.”

  “She?” Veronica couldn’t hide her surprise. “The person you believe is working with the Diablo Syndicate is a woman?”

  A glint of anger brightened Misty’s eyes as she spoke.

  “Yes, and she’s worse than any of the men I had to deal with.”

  Misty clutched the sleeve of Veronica’s jacket as if she feared the reporter would turn away.

  “She was the one who pulled me in and got me hooked. Once I saw your report on the news it dawned on me what she real
ly is…she’s a trafficker. And she’s still out there.”

  Looking down at the hand on her arm, Veronica noticed the phrase PS 23:4 had been tattooed across Misty’s delicate wrist.

  “This is what got me through detox,” Misty said, catching Veronica’s eyes on her wrist. “Psalm 23:4 has always been my favorite. You know it?”

  Veronica nodded, but Misty had already closed her eyes and begun to recite the words in a ragged whisper.

  “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me…”

  Voices sounded in the rec room behind them and Misty opened her eyes, blinking into the sun as if she’d woken from a dream.

  “Sorry about that,” she said, leaning closer. “But it was by the grace of God alone that I was able to get out of that situation alive, and how I managed to get clean.”

  Staring at Veronica across the table, Misty’s eyes filled with tears.

  “And now that I’m…free, well, I can’t just sit by and let that evil woman put anyone else through the hell I’ve been through.”

  Questions flooded Veronica’s mind, but she knew she needed to take things slowly. Women who had fallen victim to traffickers often suffered from PTSD. Asking them to relive their trauma could trigger unpredictable reactions, and she didn’t want to cause the young woman any more pain.

  As if sensing Veronica’s unease, Misty sat back with a deep sigh.

  “Look, I know I sound crazy, but I’m not. I’m sober and ready to move on with my life,” she said. “But I can’t do that while Amber Sloan is out there looking for me and preying on other women.”

  “Amber Sloan?”

  Veronica wrote the name on her notepad.

  “Is she the woman working with the Diablo Syndicate…or whatever’s left of the Syndicate?”

  “Yes,” Misty admitted, absently rubbing a thumb over the tattoo on her wrist. “And I want to tell the police who she is and what she’s done, but I’m scared. I mean, what if she really does have a connection there? Or what if they won’t believe me?”

  Wishing she could assure Misty that there was nothing to worry about, Veronica knew that wasn’t quite true.