Icy fear gripped her. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel the sharp thump in her ears. She had to find a place to hide before they caught her and dragged her back, before it was too late.
But her mind was fuzzy from the last drugs they had given her, pills so far, but she knew it was going to get worse. Especially now that she had run. She couldn’t let them find her.
Her eyes burned as she thought about the last girl who had tried to run away. They had caught her in less than an hour, beaten her so badly she couldn’t get out of bed for days.
But Callie had heard them talking about her, saying they were planning to sell her as a virgin. She was young, only thirteen, which made her worth a lot of money. She heard them mention some rich old man who liked young girls.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. She never should have run away from home. But things had gotten really bad, and she was desperate. She had left the day after her thirteenth birthday. She just couldn’t take it anymore, the fighting, her stepfather slapping her mother, threatening Callie if she didn’t do what he said.
Her mother worked as a waitress and didn’t get home until late. After her stepdad lost his job as a dockworker at the port, he’d grown angry, had taken it out on both of them.
Then Steve started looking at her in a bad way, touching her when her mother wasn’t around. She couldn’t tell her mom about Steve. Her mother loved him. Even if Callie told her the truth, her mother wouldn’t believe her. Callie didn’t know what to do, and there was no one she could talk to about it.
Finally, she packed a small suitcase, headed for the nearest bus stop to home, got on a bus and left for Houston. Maybe if she went away for a while, she could figure things out.
The minute the bus doors opened, she was scared. She had known she was in trouble the minute she got off the bus and three men appeared out of nowhere and started following her down the street. Bad trouble. The worst trouble of her life.
A sound interrupted her thoughts. The men were heading back this way. She glanced frantically around, found a spot beneath a chunk of wet cardboard and huddled down in the mud and slime on the alley floor. She held her breath so she wouldn’t make even the slightest sound as two of the men darted inside the entrance to look for her.
“See anything?” the tall skinny one asked. His name was Grady.
“I do not think she is here.” Rico was the other guy’s name, a Mexican with a short fat body and a thick accent. She eased in a slow breath as Rico turned and started back down the alley the opposite way.
Callie closed her eyes and said a silent prayer. As Rico passed the dumpster, she actually believed that God might be listening. Then the sound of a deep voice reached her and her eyes popped open.
“Well, look who I found,” Grady said.
Callie’s throat tightened into a scream.
It was getting late. Kate hurriedly packed a bag, grabbed her laptop, and they took the elevator down to the lobby. They drove straight to Jason’s to retrieve his gear, then headed south on I-45.
It was close to four hours to Houston, but Jase insisted on driving instead of flying. He needed his own ride, he said. He could count on the Yukon. Kate wondered if it had anything to do with the metal restraints welded into the back of the vehicle.
As they headed out of the city, Jase made several evasive turns and doubled back a couple of times to be sure they weren’t being followed. On the road, they went to work making plans, Kate taking notes on her iPad.
“Let’s start with what we know so far,” Jason suggested.
Kate tried not to think how good it felt being with him again. Jase seemed to fill some part of her that felt empty without him. It wouldn’t last long, she knew. And if she weren’t careful, she could get hurt even worse than before.
“We need a working theory,” he continued. “We can change whatever turns out to be wrong.”
“Okay, we’re pretty sure the group is working mainly out of Houston,” Kate said. “Both murdered women came from there. Or at least we think they did.”
“And Hector’s info corroborates that assumption. He said the group picks women up off the street—they could be runaways, battered women, or girls who come to the city hoping to find a better life.”
“Instead they wind up hooked on drugs,” Kate said. “Feeding their habits by selling themselves.”
“Hector also mentioned women in homeless shelters, and those being smuggled in from out of the country. Pretty typical for a trafficking ring.”
Kate jotted down a few notes. “Hector talked about the women being moved around. That sounds like it could be important.”
“It could be the key to finding them,” Jase said. “I’ve got a call into an HPD detective named Tony Castillo. He hasn’t called back, but sooner or later he will.”
Worry filtered through her. “Hector said not to trust the police.”
“He was warning us to watch out for dirty cops. I’ve worked with Tony before. Always been a straight-up guy. I trust him, but I won’t take chances.”
“So moving the women around. How would that work?”
