by Jen Talty
She’d sprawled out on the sofa with her forearm over her eyes.
He sat on the edge of the couch, resting his hand on her thigh.
She twitched, peeking an eye out from behind her elbow. “What did Katie have to say?”
This was going to be harsh, and he wasn’t sure she was ready for him to go down this road, but it was time. “We need to talk, and it’s not going to be easy.”
She bolted to a sitting position. “I’ve got a client coming in less than an hour, and I still have to deal with the fallout from two dead patients.”
He palmed her cheek and searched her light blue orbs for all answers to the dark questions that had been slowly forming in his mind for the last couple of days. His birth mother’s story had been typical. Nothing out of the ordinary. A teenage girl in trouble and she waited too long, so the choice was taken out of her hands. She tried to take care of him but being a drug addict compounded the issue. When things got too tough, she left him.
His five sisters all had similar stories, except for the youngest.
Her birth mother had been raped by her stepbrother. When his sister found out about the circumstances of her existence, it had messed with her head.
To be the product of rape could fuck with a kid in ways that no therapist could turn around.
“We can do this later, if you like. But it’s important.” He shifted, facing her dead-on. “I don’t want to stress you out more because I get you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, but I think it’s important we start this conversation as soon as possible.”
“Is it about my daughter?”
Fuck. This was going to be harder than he’d thought. “I don’t have any more information about her yet. However, I’m forming some connections that I don’t like.”
“And what’s that?” She folded her arms across her chest and tilted her head, completely closing herself off.
He shouldn’t be surprised. She was one of the strongest people he’d ever met. But shutting down emotions often took the toughest and shattered them into tiny little pieces.
“There are a lot of things about Belinda and Clayton’s murders, and what Clayton was involved in, and what a retired cop believes your uncle Ned and maybe your father were—”
“Stop talking.” She stood, smoothing her hands down her slacks.
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful, and I don’t want to cause you any pain.”
She nodded. “My mother just pulled in.” She pointed toward the open door that led to the waiting room. “Whatever you’re uncovering, don’t ever go to my mother or my sisters with any of it.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“Nice to see you, too, mother,” Shannon said, letting out a long breath. Her mind spun with everything that Jackson had tossed at her in a matter of seconds.
Not to mention her patients.
“I’m going to get going.” Jackson squeezed her forearm. “I’ll see you tonight.”
Her mother folded her arms and tapped her open-toed shoe. “I didn’t realize someone was here.” She looked Jackson up and down. “I’m surprised you’re one of my daughter’s patients.”
“I’m not,” Jackson said. “Although, if I was in need of a good therapist, I’d choose Shannon.” He smiled that sweet, kind smile of his that made her go all weak in the knees and made her want to forget who she was and where she’d come from.
“Perhaps you had a hand in what happened last night with Tara.” Her mother glared with condemnation in her eyes.
“Is something wrong with my sister?” Shannon clutched her pendant. “What happened? Is she okay? Where is she?”
“Vegas. With Kevin,” her mother said with disdain. “She’s ruining Bonnie’s wedding. You should have seen poor Bonnie this morning when she found out that your little sister ran off to get married. And in Vegas of all places.” Her mother visibly shivered. “They didn’t name that place Sin City for no reason.”
Jackson mouthed, “I need to go.” He leaned in and kissed Shannon’s cheek. “I’m really sorry, but I have an appointment, and this is family business. It was good to see you again, Melinda.”
Before Shannon could even bat an eyelash, Jackson was out the door and climbing into his big, honking pickup.
Shannon closed her eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and counted to ten.
“I hate it when you do that. It’s as if you’re ignoring me,” her mother said under her breath.
“Because I am.” Shannon blinked, letting the air out of her lungs. “So, Tara and Kevin eloped?” The corners of her mouth tugged upward. She couldn’t be happier—or prouder—of her little sister for finally standing up for what she wanted. “Good for them.”
“Did you put that little idea in her head?” Her mother tossed her purse onto the chair and slapped her hands on her thighs. “Not only is she upstaging Bonnie’s upcoming nuptials, but Kevin left a note telling his father that he quit the firm. Can you believe that? He just up and quit a perfectly good job.”
“Did you ever think maybe he has a better one lined up?”
Her mother stomped her foot and planted her hands on her hips. “So, you did know? And you probably made their travel arrangements. I should have known you’d sabotage my plans.”
“You’re the one who wanted them back together.” Why Shannon even chose to engage her mother at this point was beyond her, especially with the day she’d had and what was on the horizon.
Maybe it was a good distraction.
“Of course, I do. Kevin and Tara are a power couple.”
“Jesus, Mother. Do you hear yourself?”
“Don’t use God’s name in vain.”
Shannon laughed. As if her mother really believed in God. She used religion as a way to cleanse her soul. To keep her good standing in the community. Part of Shannon wished she could find comfort in the arms of the church, but all it did was remind her of the hypocrisy of her entire childhood. “Can’t you just be happy for Tara and Kevin? This is what they want. It might not be how you wanted it to happen, but can’t you see how your meddling might have pushed them into it?”
“Seriously? You’re going to blame me for this when I trusted you with Tara? I dropped her off there so you could help her and Kevin see their future, not push them away.” Her mother dabbed her eyes. “Now, they are going to move to Newburgh. Who the hell lives in that godawful place?”
Wonderful. Here comes the waterworks.
“Mom. It’s going to be okay. They will only be a few hours away, and it’s not going to upstage Bonnie’s wedding.” Nothing could ever take center stage from that woman.
“You’re not a mother. You don’t understand.”
Shannon gasped, clutching her gut. Never in her life had she considered herself a mom.
But she had given birth to a little girl.
“Oh, stop,” her mother chided. “We are not going down that road.” She tilted her chin. “Now, I expect you to get ahold of Tara and tell her to get her ass back here. And if she and Kevin managed to get married last night, then tell them they’d better get it annulled and not breathe a word of it. We can plan a big wedding for them next year.”
“Mom, they don’t want that. Do you ever listen to anything your children want or don’t want?”
“That’s no way to speak to your mother.” She fanned her face. “Why do you always do this to me? What did I do to deserve this?”
There was no reasoning with her mother, and it was pointless to continue the conversation. Besides, Lilly’s father and his wife should be in her office in the next ten minutes. The last thing she needed was her mother, the train wreck, there when Lilly and her father and stepmother showed up.
“I’ll call Tara.”
“Thank you,” her mother said. “I’m glad you’ve come to your senses.”
Shannon bit down on the inside of her cheek. She had no intention of trying to talk Tara into coming home, but she would congratulate her, that was for damn sure.<
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“I’d better run. I’ll see you later in the week.” Her mother grabbed her purse, turned on her heel, and strolled out the door like she was the Queen of England.
Talk about exhausting.
Shannon rubbed the back of her neck and glanced at her phone, smiling. Jackson had sent her a text.
Jackson: If you need me, I’m just a phone call away. See you tonight.
She didn’t have a chance to respond or even gather her thoughts before Greg and his lovely but distraught wife came barreling through her door.
“Good morning,” Shannon said. “Where’s Lilly?”
“She’s not coming.” Greg wrapped his arm around his wife, Julie. “She left home.”
“What do you mean?” Shannon couldn’t handle another patient with issues. Of course, all her clients had problems. That’s why they came to see a therapist in the first place. Although Shannon thought everyone should see one at some point in their life.
“She snuck out last night and left this note.” Julie handed a crumpled piece of paper to Shannon. “She was doing so well, and then her mother showed up out of the blue, and everything changed.”
“When did her mother get out of rehab?” Shannon held the note and made her way to the filing cabinet, pulling out Lilly’s file.
“Two days ago. But not because she was done with treatment.” Greg ran a hand over his unshaven face. “Sally was doing so well. The last time I spoke to her, she was excited about the way things were going for Lilly, and she seemed truly happy for Lilly’s fresh start. If Sally is back to using and back to her old ways, this won’t be good for our daughter.”
“Lilly is strong, and she’s made more progress than you realize.” Shannon set the file on the top of her desk and unfolded the piece of paper that Lilly had left her parents.
Dear Dad and Julie,
Thanks. I just can’t live here or like this. I’m too broken. I appreciate all you’ve done, but my mom needs me. And, truthfully, I need her.
Lilly.
Shannon glanced up. “Lilly didn’t write this.”
“Excuse me?” Greg blinked. “That’s her handwriting. We double-checked it against her schoolbooks.”
“That very well may be true, but it’s the language. This isn’t her voice. It’s not how she would have chosen to tell you.” Shannon flipped open the file. “Not only are the words wrong, but she would have doodled over her signature. It’s her thing. Look.”
Greg glanced between the papers on the desk and Shannon. “I don’t understand.”
“When was the last time you spoke with Lilly?” Shannon asked as she lifted the phone.
“Yesterday, before she went to bed. We had all gone out for ice cream. We actually had a wonderful night.”
Shannon let out a long breath. “Have you called the police?”
Greg nodded. “They took a report, but they don’t consider her missing—”
“I know the drill. But do you mind if I call a friend who specializes in finding people?”
“Doc, you’re scaring us.” Julie swiped at her eyes. “We just thought something happened to her mother in rehab to set her back and that she went AWOL and came after Lilly. And you know the effect Sally has on her daughter when Sally’s deep in her addiction.”
“I do. And it’s a cycle that’s hard to break,” Shannon said.
“Do you think her mother has her?” Greg asked.
“That’s the likely scenario. With your permission, I’d like to ask my friend to go to all of Sally’s old stomping grounds to find them.”
“We can’t afford—”
“Let me worry about that for now.” Shannon had no idea how she would pay Jackson for this one, but she couldn’t let another patient down.
Not today.
She brought up his contact information. It rang twice.
“So, you missed me already,” Jackson said with a touch of sweetness.
“How far away are you?”
“I’m actually still in Saratoga. I had some business here,” Jackson said. “Are you okay?”
“Not really. Can you come back to my office? I have an underage patient who appears to have run away. Her father and stepmother are in my office. They’ve called the police, but she’s done this before, and they won’t do anything until it’s been twenty-four hours.”
“I’m on my way. Give me ten minutes.”
“Thanks.” She set the handle in the cradle. “My friend, Jackson, will be here shortly. For now, why don’t you get a cup of coffee and make yourselves comfortable? I’m going to call the rehab center where Sally was staying and see what I can find out.”
“Do you always go this far for your patients?” Greg asked.
“No,” she admitted. “But I don’t believe Lilly left that note, and I’m not about to wait for the cops to decide she’s in trouble.”
Chapter Eight
Jackson didn’t like checking up on the girl he currently wanted to date. It felt like a total invasion of privacy. He tried to convince himself it was about her adoption case.
But it wasn’t.
“Thanks for meeting with me,” Jackson said, sticking out his hand as he made himself comfortable on the park bench outside the village.
“My pleasure.” Jeromy Rimes couldn’t be older than sixty-five, but he wore his age like a badge of honor with his deep-set lines around his eyes, and his gray brows. He wasn’t a tall man at five-foot-eight, but he was broad.
And muscular.
A well-built machine, even at his age.
“I hear you work with Katie. How’s that going?”
“Interesting,” Jackson admitted.
“I bet. Her personality matches her fiery red hair. But deep down, she’s a sweet girl who’s been handed a raw deal.”
“Agreed.” Jackson glanced around. It was getting dark, and he had a million things to do, but he had to meet with Jeromy—for more than one reason. “I don’t have much time, so I hope you don’t mind if I cut to the chase.”
“Not at all.”
“What can you tell me about Ned Brendel and the sex club ring case you were working?”
Jeromy arched a brow. “Wow. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time, though I just saw him a few hours ago.”
“Really? Where?”
“I had lunch with him.”
That wasn’t something Jackson had expected. “You’re friends?” He shifted, taking his cowboy hat off and setting it on the bench.
“I wouldn’t go that far. But ever since I arrested him, humiliated him, and ruined his marriage, we’ve kept in touch,” Jeromy said with a slight chuckle, shaking his head.
Jackson rubbed his jaw. He couldn’t tell if Jeromy meant his response to be flippant, tongue and cheek, or on point. “You made nine arrests after Ned, all related to men having sex with underage girls and boys.”
Jeromy nodded. “No thanks to Ned.”
“I’m sorry. But I’m not following any of this.”
“Let’s backtrack this,” Jeromy said. “Before I busted Ned, a teenage girl came to me and told me her stepfather had sold her into a sex club where his friends passed her around.”
“Jesus,” Jackson mumbled.
“It was fucking gross.” Jeromy raked a hand through his hair. “She had the name of one man, other than her stepfather, and that was Ned Brendel. So, we put a tail on him. I might have jumped the gun when I busted him in the park because I never got any names from him. But he did give me some information on where some of the club meetings were held.”
“That’s how you made your arrests?”
Jeromy nodded. “But no one would ever give anyone up, and this bullshit is still going on, as you know from this latest murder.”
“I don’t know that much. Westerfield isn’t giving me a ton of intel at this point.”
“Well, I’m a private citizen these days. What do you need to know to help you with whatever case you’re working on?”
What a fucking lo
aded question that was? And Jackson wasn’t even sure if he was asking to help find Lilly...
Or Shannon’s daughter at this point.
He might as well pull out all the stops.
“Do you think Ned’s brother was involved in this sex club?”
Jeromy arched a brow. “Before I answer that, why do you want to know?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Fair enough,” Jeromy said. “I know for a fact that Dwight Brendel was one of the leaders. I just could never prove it. But he’s dead. So, what are you going to do?”
“Where did they get the girls?”
“That’s truly the sad part.”
Jackson held his breath as his heart sank to his gut like a cement brick. “This wasn’t human trafficking, was it?”
“Nope. Nothing worse than adults taking full advantage of young girls and boys and abusing their trust.”
“Fuck,” Jackson muttered. His thoughts had gone into a very dark place, and Shannon was at the center of it.
Jeromy leaned forward. “Belinda was a victim of that sex club. Her father used to sell her to the highest bidder during his Tuesday poker games. They’d take turns while he dealt.”
“That’s really fucked up.” Jackson couldn’t suck in a deep breath if he tried. A wave of nausea gripped him so tight, he thought he might pass out if he tried to stand. “How do you know all this?”
“I arrested Belinda’s father ten years ago when she was only fourteen years old.”
Jackson leaned back on the bench and stared across the street at the lake, just as a sailboat caught wind and cut through the water.
No one had such dark rituals with that much hatred for their father unless they had a really good reason.
“Did you know Belinda?” Jackson asked.
“Not well. But I heard she was seeing a therapist.” Jeromy cocked his head. “Shannon Brendel.”
A sharp pain stabbed Jackson in the center of his chest and ripped through his entire body.
“She’s a sharp girl, and I hear she’s really good at what she does. But I can see you’ve gone to the same place I’ve been living for years, and I’m going to take you to an even darker place.”
