He nodded and flipped a switch on the way out. I waited another moment, still paging through her drawings. This girl was incredibly talented, and I was having trouble trying to figure out how to use that in the case.
I left the file on the table. I didn’t need it. I knew everything about Elutheria Stavros that was available. A sixteen year old girl who had been working the streets when she was twelve. She had been grabbed eighteen months before the bust and was forced into slavery. She had been unresponsive at first, but she quickly started to recover.
Too quickly. I, and most of the nurses and doctors didn’t believe it for a second. I figured she was trying to get out and go back to her corners. She didn’t have anything. Her mother had pimped her out for drug money, and then she killed herself with bad heroin. She had no father in the picture, no siblings, and no place to go. She hadn’t been to school for years, and there was just nothing for the girl to look forward to.
Except her art talent.
I looked up at the ceiling in frustration before I walked in. I was going to have to talk to Haden about bringing Paige in for this girl. She had the best connections.
Pushing the door open, I walked into the room. Elutheria looked up and smiled at me. “Hey, Doctor Warner. How are you?”
“I’m good, Ellie. How are you?”
She pointed to the paper tablet that she was drawing in. “Is there any way I can get something more potent than crayons and graphite pencils? I feel like I could do more if I could have ink or pastels…”
“Sorry, doll. You know the rules.”
“Damn,” she said softly, but it wasn’t disappointed. She did know the rules, and she was just trying to get me to bend them for her. Until she could get a psych clearance, she couldn’t have sharp objects. Or belts, laces, things with cords…
If Justine didn’t keep her here, it would get worse in the institution. I had the utmost respect for the hospital, but for this girl, at this moment, it was the wrong place.
“Doctor, why am I still here?”
“Why don’t you tell me what you think the answer to that is?”
She shrugged, and look at me through her lashes. “You all think that there’s still something wrong with me.”
“And is there?”
“I’m the same as I’ve always been.”
“You were trafficked, Ellie.”
The nonchalance in her one shoulder shrug killed me. “It wasn’t that much different from the street. I didn’t get paid was all.”
I leaned back in the chair, and folded my arms. “Where are you going to go after this, Ellie?”
“I’m sure I’ll do just fine in foster care.”
My eyes rolled so hard, I was pretty sure I nearly sprained them. “Don’t take me for an ass, Ellie. Maybe the other doctors here want to hear those words, but I want to hear what you’re thinking, what you’re planning.”
The pencil she was using to draw on the pad with sped up. She was agitated and didn’t answer me right away.
“I’m going to leave. Pack up my shit, find a way to get emancipated and find a place to stay away from all this bullshit. Probably have to turn some tricks to get on my feet, but…it’s just a lousy fuck with food and shelter after.”
Exactly what I was afraid of.
No sixteen year old should ever think like that.
“Ellie, do you have anyone?”
She paused before she shook her head. She was lying. I waited a moment. “Who is it, Ellie? Who are you protecting?”
“No one.” This time the answer was too fast.
But she gave herself away. The pencil was moving furiously over the portrait that had appeared there. A young boy, maybe three or four. I stood so I could see the image better from behind her shoulder.
“Who is he?”
She hunched down and drew even more furiously. “Ben. Ben ben. Ben. Baby Ben. Ben-ja-man. Ben.”
“Who is Ben, Ellie?”
She shook her head, her hair flying around her. I leaned in close. “Ellie, we can help him. We can help you, too.”
“Foster system sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Sucks. Give me back Ben. Ben ben. I promised. I was too small they said. But he was mine mine mine. I needed to protect him.”
Every scenario I didn’t want to imagine was galloping through my head. “Who is Ben, Elutheria?”
“B is for Ben. B is for Baby Ben. B is for Baby Brother Ben.”
Holy hell. The relief coursed through me—I had visions of this being her son. Though if he was this young, she might be maternally attached to him anyway.
“Do you know where Ben is, Ellie?”
“Mmm. Yes. No. Yes.”
“Does Ben have the same last name as you?”
“Nope, nope. Nope.”
Shit, this wasn’t going to be easy. “Can you tell me his name?”
“Ben ben ben…”
“His whole name, Ellie.”
She didn’t say another word, but I saw her writing across the top of the page in big angry letters.
Benjamin Matthias Sheehan.
That was not good.
Haden ran a hand down her face. Miriam had her head down on her arms. Fischer was leaning against the back wall of the observation room. Ellie, still in the other room, had calmed down since the drawing earlier, and she was doodling something else now.
“I have trouble believing that Matthias is a pedophile,” Fischer said.
I waved a finger. “No, we’re not going to go there. There are all kinds of disguises that people wear to hide who they really are. That said, I don’t think he’s part of the ring. I think that he’s actually just a man whore who left Ellie’s mom with a kid.”
Haden nodded. “He has a reputation for fuck and flee, to be sure. The man is a total glutton.”
“Witnessed by his size,” Miriam grumbled into the table. She lifted her head. “He’s foul.”
“Are we fat shaming?” I asked quietly.
“Hell no,” Fischer said. “He’s actually gross. The amount of food that man eats is shocking.”
“He makes excuses that he has to taste all the dishes,” Miriam said. “I forgot about his habits. Another reason why I left the upper echelons. Unapologetic excess.”
“So, her brother Ben is Matthias’ kid,” Haden huffed. “Did she leave him with him? Is he in foster care?”
“Who can find out for us fast?” Miriam asked. “You’re the cop.”
“DHS is a fucking mess,” she answered. “I don’t want to approach them as a cop, and that’s what I would be doing. We didn’t even know there was a brother.”
Fischer huffed, “Paige.”
We all groaned.
I hung my head for a moment and then glanced at Ellie sitting in the room. “I had already thought about contacting her. Miriam, you have to talk to Foster—”
“Lincoln Foster?” she gasped.
“Yes,” I said.
“Oh, my sweet Jesus, don’t make me talk to that man. He doesn’t see anything but dollar signs and opportunities.”
Closing my eyes, I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He’s one of the hospital’s best patrons. He donates a lot of money and Ellie is here on his grant program. Justine Blackwell put her on it when we realized she had nothing.”
“He’d pull that?”
“If he felt it wasn’t a good investment.”
She ran a hand over her mouth and thought for a moment. “I don’t know if I can, but I might be able to get a grant from my foundation. I think that there’s a proviso…
“No,” I interrupted. “Foster has to be convinced. We don’t have time, this is on a twenty-four hour rotating check-in. She could be dropped off at eight tonight and they have to send her to Horsham.”
“Once she’s in Horsham, we can’t get to her to protect her or stop them from releasing her. You saw the tape—she’s not healthy yet.”
“This isn’t a mental hospital,” Haden said.
“Horsham is out of district,” I an
swered. “None of us can get to her. We need Paige and Foster in on this. We have to finish busting up this ring. You’ve seen those other kids—even the ones whose families are there for them. They are fucked up. We’ve only cleared one other pocket.” I glanced back at Ellie. “I think she knows everyone in the ring. All of the customers who rented her. We just need to give her time to draw us all the faces.”
Fischer
Miriam was a mess.
I glanced at Wren, who took a deep breath and grabbed Miriam’s arm.
“Miri, please, please calm down.”
“I haven’t been to one of these awful parties since my father tried to marry me off, and beat me with a pool cue for thinking that being gay even mattered in marriage.”
That was news, and probably news she should have shared before we dragged her to this godawful charity benefit. Now I was mad at myself.
I hated these benefits as much as anyone else, but she was having some sort of freaky visceral reaction to it. More specifically, Lincoln Foster.
Wren gave her a pointed looked and nodded off to the table we were seated at. Laxmi was there in one of her most gorgeous saris, and the sight seemed to settle Miriam tremendously.
“Right. We’re doing this for the kids,” she managed to squeak out.
I offered her my hand and winked at Wren as Miriam and I walked out to the dance floor.
“Deep breath, dear. It’s all just a charade, and you can go home to Laxi in a little while. Just three hours.”
“Man, Fisch. I am not up for this anymore. It’s hard to pretend that I’m like them.” She jerked her chin at the people on the dance floor with us.
“You’re doing fine, Miri.” I smiled at her. “What’s scaring you?”
“My parents.”
I balked, but didn’t lose my rhythm. “What?”
“They’re here, at table eight. I didn’t know they were going to be.”
I chuckled, and dipped her back to the music, lifting a moment later. “They must be thrilled to see that you’re dancing with a person with a penis.”
She hmm’ed noncommittally. “Wrong penis.”
“They had one picked out.”
She nodded, but offered nothing more.
“Who?”
“Lincoln Foster.”
That time, I tripped and lost the rhythm. “Jesus Christ, Miriam, why didn’t you say that sooner! We would have found a different way.”
“It won’t change anything. Lincoln was pissed when I said no, and he probably still is. But he sees everything as dollar signs, and I know how to manipulate that to get him to keep Elutheria in the hospital until we can get the images out of her.”
Shaking my head, I spun her across the dance floor. “When you’re ready to go, we’ll go. If you can’t talk to Foster, then so be it. We’ll figure out how to get around it.”
“I wish I could just pay for her.”
I shook my head. “We all do, Miri. We all do. But we can’t, not without the ethics board coming down on all of us.” I glanced over at Wren, who smiled at me. “We’ve tried to figure out how to convince her to stay in the program, and if we can promise her that we can find Ben, I think she’ll hang around.”
“You heard your girlfriend. She’s not healthy yet. She’s going to have to go into the behavioral ward.”
“I know. But I think we can work this out.”
There was a tap on my shoulder, and I turned us to see Lincoln Foster standing there, looking ridiculously handsome in what was no doubt a custom tuxedo. The man was perfect—black hair, flawless skin, deep green eyes. He was totally manscaped, too, right down to manicured nails.
“May I cut in?” His voice was smooth and cool.
“I defer to the lady,” I answered, and took a quick glance at Miriam.
After a long moment, she nodded, and I stepped back, offering her hand to the biggest, greediest bastard I’d ever met. Also, the man who held the key to the health of one young girl who could help the police crack a child-sex-for-rent business.
He gave me a stiff nod, then pulled Miriam into a close but not improper hold, swirling them away from us. Turning to the table, I found Laxmi’s eyes glued on her girlfriend as the rival for her legal standing as spouse danced her around the floor.
“Motherfucker,” she whispered as I sat.
“Did you know her parents tried to marry her off to him?” Wren asked, indicating she had also just found this out.
“She told me two hours ago. I’m so pissed.”
I splayed my hands on the table. “Miriam can handle herself. She’s big girl, and she’s broke away from this once. I think we have to trust her.”
Wren leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Jealousy, Fischer. I know what she’s feeling.” Her glance was pointed and I chuckled.
“I’ve got eyes for no one but you, gorgeous,” I said. “I mean Miriam is hot—”
They each punched me in an arm, and I laughed.
We had really lucked out on this benefit. It had only taken Miriam an hour to find this was going on, and another hour to get invites. The biggest problem was getting Wren a dress and that was mostly because every time she had walked out of the dressing room, I just wanted to strip her out of them.
She’d changed, in all the right ways since the night I had fucked her to sleep, and gave her the Cefaly the next day. She was sleeping, rested, adjusted. She had only become even more gorgeous.
And more sex-driven.
The visions between us, even the ones she admitted to without touching each other, had diminished. I had no idea if she was going to keep having them, but we had both kept journals to compare them.
I just never showed her the ones I saw on my own. I hated to keep lying to her, but I just wasn’t ready to share that yet. I was a hypocrite for that.
There was a crack from the dance floor that pulled everyone’s attention to the center of the room.
Miriam and Foster were facing each other, and it was painfully apparent by the red handprint on Foster’s face what had happened.
Foster made the mistake of grabbing Miriam’s wrist. She backhanded him.
A couple—apparently Miriam’s parents—vaulted on to the dance floor to rush up to the couple. Laxmi clearly was getting ready to do the same, and I grabbed her wrist.
“Let her handle it,” Wren’s words whispered across me to Laxmi.
“I’m going to rip his balls off and feed them to him.”
Wren looked at me, and then we both turned to Laxmi. She was red and shaking with anger. With a toss of her chin, she told me exactly what she wanted to do. The three of us headed to the dance floor, but I held Laxmi back, gently.
Miriam’s mother had a hand out to her daughter. “Miri—”
Her fierce gaze landed on the woman. “Fuck you, Mother.”
“That escalated quickly,” Wren murmured.
I had to school my features and try desperately not to laugh. Laxmi as well.
“Let go of me, you piece of shit,” Miriam snapped. “This was a fucking mistake, to think I could be around you.”
Foster was unmoved. “My offer still stands.”
“Your offer. Do you think I’m some sort of piece of cattle you can buy at auction?”
“I can make it worth your while, and you know it.”
“Now I’m a baby making slot machine?!”
Laxmi pushed forward and grabbed Miriam’s hand. She might not have been the tallest person in the room, but the fury radiating off the woman made most everyone step back a bit.
“Let’s get something straight here, Lincoln Foster. This woman, right here—” she held up their joined hands “—is mine. We came here tonight to talk to you about helping one special patient at St. Christopher’s, and instead you put a rental dollar amount on my girlfriend’s cunt.” She stepped closer to him, and I saw just the tiniest bit of shock glance over his features. “The only thing that goes in that cunt is my tongue.”
She whirled, jerking h
er out of Lincoln’s grasp, and marched off the dance floor with Miriam in tow.
“I’ll make sure to cut off that patient as soon as I can,” Foster said.
Laxmi turned, very clearly flipped him the bird, and marched out of the ballroom.
“Well, that got shot to hell.” Wren sighed. She looked at her watch. “Efficient. Less than twenty minutes. Do you think we’ll have to pay for the parking?”
I started laughing. Even Foster had to smile at that while Miriam’s parents just looked utterly mortified.
I took Wren’s hand and headed back to the table. “We spent a lot of money on these tickets, I’m at least getting dinner out of it.”
She laughed as we sat down, and picked up her champagne glass. It was only a moment before we both noticed someone standing at the other end of the table. Two someones.
I let Wren lead the way on this one.
She stared at them and took a slow, arrogant sip of her champagne. “Hello, Mister Crownin, Mrs. Crownin. Can I help you?”
“You have ruined our daughter,” her mother growled.
“I have done nothing to your daughter. She is as she’s always been.”
“You and your authentic life bullshit. You deny us a grandchild, an heir.” Her father was red-faced and looked like he needed another drink. “You and your lesbian ways…”
She chuckled. “I had nothing to do with this except to introduce her to someone she could love. And you do realize she can still have a child, right? But on her terms. Not yours, not that arrogant prick’s. Go home, Monica, James. Just go home. Let your daughter live her life. Laxmi is everything you’d wish for in a daughter-in-law, but you’re just too arrogant and stupid to see that.”
She took another sip, and put the drink down.
James grabbed his wife’s wrist and dragged her away from the table.
Foster stood there, clapping and laughing.
“This is spectacular,” he said, slowing his clap. “I am so glad I decided to come tonight. This is endlessly entertaining, thank you.”
I considered him for a moment, and glanced over at Wren who shrugged and addressed him. “You are a prick, aren’t you.”
Sleeper Page 9
