Emily
WITH LINK BY my side and Bull at my back, I stood in front of a two-story brick building and listened to a harrowing tale of breaking and entering from a man named Frog.
“It’s not exactly B and E,” Link objected.
Unbelievable.
Hands on my hips, I spun around and glared at him. “He climbed up the trellis to the second floor and went through a window. How is that not breaking and entering?”
“The window wasn’t locked,” all seven men standing in front of me said at once.
“At the most, it was E,” Link added. “Entering. And as far as I know, that’s not against the law.”
I could spout off at least a half-dozen reasons why they were wrong, but there was no point. I wouldn’t change their minds or keep them from doing it again, because they clearly had zero remorse about it. So, I focused on the task at hand. Frog’s criminal activity was as pointless as his story since we still didn’t know whether or not the girl we were looking for was in the shelter.
“If she wasn’t in there, they would have called the cops,” Link said.
He had a point. Of course, they could be engaged in any number of illegal tasks they didn’t want the cops to know about: growing marijuana, laundering money, making meth. Who knew?
With no other way to find out for sure, I marched up to the front door and knocked.
The door cracked open, and a little old lady peeked out at me. “What can I help you with?” she asked, peering over my shoulder to give the guys a spectacular stink eye.
“I’m looking for a young lady I heard might be staying here. She was… assaulted by Mayor Kinlan’s son and we’re concerned about her safety. Can you tell me if she’s here?”
“Hard to tell. Our guests seek shelter from all sorts of fiends, and it’s none of my business what they’ve been through. Yours either.”
She started to shut the door, but I jammed my foot in it, grateful I’d already dressed down before Link had called and was wearing sneakers, not dress shoes.
“Please,” I begged. “Look, if we found her, the mayor can, too. But you know that, don’t you? It’s why you didn’t call the cops when you found Frog snooping around, isn’t it?
She didn’t respond.
Even more hopeful that the girl was here, I kept going, “I assure you, we are the good guys. We want to bring Noah Kinlan to justice. Our friend, Marcus, is the man who ripped Noah off of her and beat him up. Marcus is in jail for helping her, and we’re trying to get him out and put Noah behind bars where he belongs.”
The door opened a little wider. “The man who helped her is in jail?”
“Yes. He beat the snot out of Noah. It’s been all over the news. Don’t you watch television?”
“No cable. No antenna. News is depressing, and the television’s just for movies. Your friend is really in trouble? But he helped. What kind of world do we live in?”
“The kind where the rich and famous get off scot free unless someone is brave enough to take them to court. Marcus Wilson was brave enough, and now he’s facing attempted murder charges because nobody will admit to the fact Noah was raping someone. We need her to testify.”
“And who are you?”
“Emily Stafford.” I slid a business card out of my pocketbook and handed it to her. “Criminal defense attorney.”
The old woman studied my business card, her jaw twisting as she played with her dentures. I averted my eyes.
“Wait here. I’ll see if she wants to talk to you.”
Before I could object, the door closed.
I stood there waiting for at least ten minutes. Then finally, it cracked open again, and the old woman invited me in. Link and Bull tried to follow me inside, but the old lady told them no and shut the door on them.
The door was clearly her best weapon.
The Sacred Peace Women’s Shelter was a comfortable place. Pictures lined the entryway and hall, leading to a living room with crocheted, mismatched armrest covers on worn sofas and chairs, and handmade coasters on mis-matched coffee tables. The television was off, and a petite brunette sat in a recliner wearing baggy sweats and a frown. She watched us as we approached.
