Jesus Christ.
I also knew why she’d brought the case to me. Personal tragedies existed in every family.
After studying Denise’s account of what she’d endured, my gut told me there wasn’t enough to bring the case in front of a grand jury. Denise hadn’t been able to identify a single man involved.
According to the victim, the people involved had all worn masks during the auctions and during the few times she’d been in aroom with other women. Except for one man. A token, which meant he had no identity. Clever. I’d seen and read a hell of lot of terrible things during my career, but even in its limitations, Denise’s account of the atrocities burned deep within.
“How in the hell did Denise escape?”
“Apparently, she was clever and very observant. After being won in an auction, her owner stuffed her into a vehicle blindfolded and with her hands tied. After roughing her up. She had no clue about the man and had yet to see him without his mask. She could tell he was driving through traffic, maybe stopping at a red light. She caused a distraction and managed to jump from the car. From what she said, she’d been slowly working her wrists free from the rope.”
“Did she see anything around her?”
Jackie shook her head. “No real landmarks. She was too scared. However, she did mention it seemed to be a desolate part of town, more commercial than anything. Even though he chased her, she hid behind a dumpster for hours then found someone on the street who called the police. I assure you if they find her, they will kill her.”
What Jackie had just told me weighed heavily. We all had our reasons for choosing law enforcement as a profession. Mine was far too personal to discuss with anyone, but every time a case like this was presented to me, it took me back to a portion of my past I never wanted to revisit.
“There’s not enough here for the grand jury. But you already knew that.”
Jackie was silent for a full thirty seconds before nodding. “I know you, Kendrick. We might not see eye to eye allthe time, but you’re a damn good prosecutor and you never let anything go when you know it’s wrong. This organization believes themselves to be bigger than the law because they’re rich. They use girls as their playthings, hunting them, exploiting them. Some are runaways, others potential models. From what Denise told me, others are promised huge sums of money for being willing participants. My God, imagine what these girls go through. If anyone can bring some justice to these girls, you can.”
What she was asking couldn’t be done in a court of law. Not with as little information as had been provided. Even a shitty defense attorney would blast holes in any case. While I should simply send Jackie on her way, she was right that once I learned a heinous organization or criminal had been allowed to run free and clear to perform additional despicable acts, I fought for justice tooth and nail.
But this was different.
“Is there any truth to this teacher searching for her sister?” I asked.
Jackie shrugged. “Denise mentioned she believed her name was Reese, but also all the girls are given fake names so at this point, that’s not anything you can go on. Since the girl was her roommate in a cell, she did provide a detailed description for a sketch artist. It’s in the back of the folder and just before I came here, I put it through the national database. If we’re lucky, I’ll find something within twenty-four hours. So far, I haven’t been able to identify her. Maybe because she’s not from Miami or simply doesn’t have a record.”
Shifting through the paperwork, I found the sketch, exhaling as soon as I did. Even in black and white, the girl was beautiful.
And her eyes called out to me.
Begging me for help.
CHAPTER 3
Kendrick
“Kendrick. I managed to get a hit on the identity of the teacher.”
There was a significant shift in Jackie’s tone. Not quite hope, but the edge of excitement I’d hear in the voices of detectives and police officers when they’d made a discovery. “What did you find?”
“Her name is Reese Murphy. No criminal record. She’s from Jacksonville.”
Something dark bristled inside of me. Putting names to faces other than simple sketches made everything that much more real. “What’s her story? Any truth about her sister?”
“Entirely possible. Reese is a junior high school teacher. Her sister Briana is a runaway. A seventeen-year-old girl. Her parents reported her missing three months ago, but the police weren’t so inclined to care about a young girl who’d been a juvenile delinquent. You know how the story goes.”
Unfortunately, I did. Once labeled a delinquent, the cases were shoved to the bottom. Something else about the system that infuriated me. “So you’re suggesting Reese decided to locate her sister herself.”
“Apparently. She took a leave of absence from teaching ten days ago.”
Fuck. Ten days was a long time. There was no chance in hell a junior high schoolteacher had known what she was getting herself into. “Fuck the police. No offense.”
She half laughed. “I say that at least twice a day. There’s more. Reese’s name was flagged. I followed the trail. She contacted the Miami Dade police department with suspicions her sister had been lured into a modeling ring from a TikTok video. That’s what she told the officer who took the report.”
“And fucking did nothing with it,” I said out of disgust. “How did Reese pinpoint Miami?”
