“If you hear anything, will you let me know?”
“I will if you’ll do the same.”
“Deal,” I said. “And thanks.”
Minutes later, Emily and I were in the car, only this time I insisted she sit in the front with me. She gave me a shy smile, and I reached over and squeezed her hand in reassurance.
I’d barely left the parking lot when Carter called and said he was texting me a location, along with directions. I pulled over before I got on the highway and called Anna to set the meeting, confirming we should be there in about an hour and a half.
Emily was quiet for the first fifteen minutes of the drive, and I let her sit in silence. I suspected she wouldn’t fully believe she was going to be reunited with her mother until she saw Anna with her own eyes. What she’d been through over the last few hours, let alone the past four months, would be a lot for anyone, let alone a thirteen-year-old girl.
But once she realized we were really headed toward Fayetteville, she relaxed and seemed open to answering questions about her friends and her family. Then she began to open up about what she’d been through.
Buddy had found her online, sending her DMs on Instagram from the profile of a teen boy named Sebastion. He’d started out by telling her how pretty she was and convincing her that her mother was a horrible person who didn’t understand her or care about her. He told Emily he was sixteen—still too old for her—but she was flattered by his attention. After a few months of messaging, he convinced her to meet him in person, telling her he’d pick her up after school in his car. He gave her his car’s description and told her he’d park a block from the school so she wouldn’t get in trouble. Then, to be extra safe—in case someone was watching and would tell her parents or the school—he told her to get in the backseat.
When she approached the car, she was hesitant to get in. The windows were tinted, and while she could see someone sitting in the front, she couldn’t make out his features. But ultimately, she decided she really wanted to meet him and got in.
Only when she got in the car, she realized the man in the front didn’t look anything like the photos of the boy she’d been talking too. She’d tried to leave, but the door was locked—child proofed. Buddy, who was behind the wheel, assured her that he was Sebastion’s older brother and that Sebastian had to stay after school for a project. Sebastion hadn’t wanted to cancel on her, so Buddy had agreed to pick her up. To make up for the change in plans, Sebastion had asked Buddy to pick up her favorite Boba drink.
Even though she’d felt uncomfortable, she’d taken his words at face value. Besides, how would a random man, driving the same car as Sebastion’s, know her favorite drink? He pulled away from the curb, and she gulped it down.
The next thing she remembered was waking up in a bare bedroom, on a mattress on the floor.
I didn’t ask her what they’d asked her to do or how they’d trained her to do it. I didn’t want her reliving any of it with me. She needed to save that for a therapist. But I did ask her questions about the operations. How many girls had she seen? How many had been moved? How many handlers were there? What names had she heard? As expected, she didn’t know much, but she’d seen Nixon a few days before. He’d come by the house and said he had a shipment coming in from Texas in five days, but the big boss was on edge and had considered cancelling it. She had no idea who the big boss was.
“Can you tell me what Nixon looks like?”
She bit her bottom lip. “He’s tall and kinda scary lookin’.”
“How so?”
“He’s got big arm muscles and he has scary eyes. Mean.”
I gave a slow nod. “What color are his hair and eyes?”
“He’s got black hair.” She touched her ear. “It’s pretty short, like kind of shaved. And he had a beard that’s kind of scruffy.”
“And his eyes?”
“I didn’t really pay attention.” She shuddered. “I don’t like to look at his eyes.”
When she’d finished telling me everything she could remember, she looked over at me and asked quietly, “Are you really a PI?”
“Yeah, Emily. I am.” I shot her a look. “Sorry I lied about who I was before, but I wanted to get you out of there, and it seemed like the best way at the time. I didn’t think you’d come if I told you I was there to save you.”
She nodded, glancing down at her hands in her lap. “You’re right. I would have been too scared.” She looked up again. “What are you investigating?”
I drew in a breath, wondering how much to tell her, then decided to go with the truth. “My partner and I are going to bring down the big boss.”
“Nixon’s boss?”
“Yep. And Nixon too.”
“And Buddy?”
I gave her a half-smile. “He’s already been captured.”
“By the guy in Buddy’s car?”
