Alone in the Dark (45 page)

‘That sounds familiar,’ Marcus muttered, softly patting Malaya’s back as she stirred in his arms. ‘But eventually she did talk to you.’

‘Eventually. We played that little game for a couple of weeks, till one day she got up out of the chair and crossed over to me, using her walker. She introduced herself, gave me a bouquet of the hydrangea blooms, then went back into the house. I thought maybe she was a little . . . you know.’ Annabelle tapped her temple. ‘Dementia. After another couple of weeks we were having actual conversations. Then one day she had a big bruise on her face. She said she’d fallen down the stairs. I knew better, of course. I told her to come with me, to walk away and she could live with me, but she refused. Said she couldn’t leave her girls. I didn’t know what she meant then.’

Her gaze fell to Malaya. ‘But I do now. I wanted to call the police, but Tabby wouldn’t let me. She said everything was fine. She begged me not to call, said she’d send the police away if I did. I should have called. Why didn’t I call?’

Amazingly, it was Isenberg who offered comfort. ‘Because we’re socialized to mind our own business to a certain extent,’ she said, laying a hand over Annabelle’s. ‘Even if you had called, Tabby would have probably told the police that there was no issue, that she had no complaint. You came when she needed you. That counts. That matters. You took that baby and bought her formula and diapers and very likely saved her life.
That
matters, ma’am.’

The tears were streaming down Annabelle’s face. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant, but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. What I did today was just a drop in the bucket. What can I do to help Mila and Erica? I have resources. I can offer a reward for their return.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ the social worker said.

Annabelle bristled. ‘Why not?’

‘Because,’ the social worker said, ‘if they’re worried about being deported, having their names on the TV with an offered reward is too much like having a price on their heads. They’ll bolt and we may never see them again.’

‘She’s right, ma’am,’ Scarlett said gently. ‘But I do know someone they might trust. Tala had a crucifix around her neck and you say that Mila had a string of rosary beads?’ She looked at her boss. ‘Maybe they’ll trust a priest.’

Isenberg nodded approvingly. ‘I’ll get an undercover officer in a collar and robes.’

Marcus opened his mouth to disagree, but Scarlett beat him to it. ‘We need to earn their trust,’ she protested. ‘If they find out that the priest is really a cop, they won’t tell us anything.’

‘Then I hope you know a priest,’ Isenberg said. ‘Otherwise I’ll have to make some calls to the chaplain’s association, because I don’t.’

Looking uncomfortable, Scarlett glanced at Marcus. ‘Do you know one?’

‘We’re Episcopalian,’ he said apologetically.

Annabelle shrugged. ‘I’m a Lutheran. My pastor wears a collar, and he’s a very kind man. I can give you his name if you like.’

‘Don’t look at me,’ the social worker said. ‘I’m Baptist. No collars.’

Isenberg rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll get one of the CPD chaplains.’

Scarlett shook her head. ‘You don’t have to do that, Lieutenant.’ Her grimace was so slight that Marcus might have missed it had he not been watching her so closely. ‘My uncle is a priest. He’s very practical and very kind. He’ll do the right thing.’

Marcus wondered why she hadn’t brought her uncle up at the beginning. He intended to ask her when they were alone again.

Scarlett squared her shoulders. ‘If we don’t have any more questions for Ms Church, I’ll arrange for her transport to the hospital, and then I’ll give my uncle a call.’

Annabelle’s attorney spoke up for the first time. ‘I’ll take my client to the hospital.’

‘Your tiny car is too confining,’ Annabelle said. ‘I’ve gotten used to my golf cart.’

He smiled at her. ‘We can put the top down if you want, Grandma. If we hurry, we can hit the florist on our way there and you can get some nice flowers for your friend.’ He handed Marcus his card. ‘When Mila and Erica are found, give them this. I don’t do immigration law, but I know some people who do. We’ll make sure it’s pro bono.’

Marcus took the card, taking care not to wake the still sleeping Malaya. ‘Thank you,’ he said. Annabelle’s grandson worked for one of the top firms in the city. Marcus’s grandfather had done business with them for years. ‘That’s very decent of you, Mr Benitez.’

Benitez gave him a nod. ‘I was born in this country, as was my father, but his father came over from Cuba on a leaky old fishing boat in the sixties. Not everyone is so lucky as to be born here, and if this situation is what it sounds like, these women were not in that house voluntarily. I want to help if I can. If they want to go home, we can help expedite that. But if they want to stay in this country, they shouldn’t have to face deportation on top of everything else they may have suffered.’

Marcus was impressed. This guy had picked up on nuances that many people would not. They had no idea of how and why Tala’s family had come to the United States, or if they wanted to go home, but Marcus agreed that after all they’d suffered, the choice shouldn’t be taken from them.

Annabelle frowned. ‘Are you saying they were kidnapped, Gabriel? And forced to work for that horrible Chip Anders?’

‘Not kidnapped, Grandma,’ the attorney said, very gently. ‘It’s called human trafficking, and it happens everywhere. Come on, now. The detectives have to get to work.’

‘No.’ Annabelle sat unmoving. ‘Human trafficking happens in other countries. Like Thailand. Not here, Gabriel. This is Ohio.
Hyde Park
,
even. Why would Anders force anyone to work for him? He has plenty of money to pay his employees.’

‘Your grandson’s right,’ Scarlett told her. ‘It happens here in Ohio more often than any of us want to believe. Individuals who use forced labor are often rich enough to pay their employees, but they’re greedy. They want to cut labor costs so that they can pocket the money they save. They’re modern-day slave owners, plain and simple.’

‘It’s also about power and entitlement,’ Marcus added. ‘They own people because they can. Until we stop them.’

‘I’m sorry, Grandma,’ the attorney said soberly.

‘I . . .’ Visibly shaken, Annabelle pulled a diaper bag from under her chair. ‘I had my maid go out and buy baby things,’ she said numbly. ‘Formula and bottles and diapers. A blanket and a few outfits. But no shoes. She needs shoes.’

‘How about a pacifier and a teething ring?’ Scarlett asked. ‘Tala had them with her, but we had to take them into evidence.’

Annabelle looked in the bag. ‘There’s a pacifier in here, but it has to be sterilized first. It’s still in the package.’ Her grandson gently took the bag from her, and handed it to the social worker. Then he led her from the room. She followed him out the door, still looking shocked that human trafficking was happening in upper-crust Hyde Park, right under her nose.

The social worker held out her arms for Malaya. ‘I’ll take her now, Mr O’Bannion. Thank you. I needed a little break.’

Marcus held Malaya’s head close to his chest for a few heartbeats, strangely reluctant to hand her over. ‘Will you tell me where she’s placed? I’d like to make sure she knows about her mother when she’s old enough.’

‘She’ll go into emergency foster care for now. That’s only good for a few days. I can’t tell you where she’ll be placed after that, but I can give her long-term foster parents your name once she’s permanently placed. They’ll have to decide whether or not to allow you to see her.’

Marcus wanted to argue, but knew it would be pointless. He knew she was only following the rules. Luckily he knew people in Children’s Services who might be able to help him. He put Tala’s baby in the social worker’s arms. ‘Can I have your card?’

The woman gave him one, then turned to Scarlett and gave her one too. ‘Detective Bishop, if you need to reach me for any reason, please call.’

Scarlett took the card with a civil nod. ‘I’ll get an officer to escort you out.’ She waved a uniformed officer in, then surprised Marcus by leaning over the baby and lightly kissing her forehead. ‘Your mama loved you, little one. I hope you understand that one day.’

When she lifted her head, her eyes were expressionless again and Marcus’s throat tightened. She’d been hit as hard in the heart by the baby’s safe return as he was. Of course she would be. This was a woman who owned a miner’s headlamp and a seriously deluxe first aid kit so that she could keep her nieces and nephews safe.

She looked at him, emotion flaring in her eyes before she did another long blink, restoring her calm. ‘At least we know their first names,’ she said. ‘Mila and Erica. Lynda, I’ll call my uncle now if you can wait with Marcus while I do.’

Isenberg inclined her head once. ‘Of course. But, Scarlett, wait. I have a question about this uncle-priest of yours.’

Scarlett paused in the doorway. ‘Yes?’

‘Is he from your father’s side or your mother’s?’

Scarlett sighed. ‘He’s my father’s youngest brother.’

Isenberg’s eyes laughed even though her mouth remained almost grim. ‘Then he’s Father Bishop?’

Scarlett rolled his eyes. ‘If you know what’s good for you, you will not laugh at his name. He goes by Father Trace because of that.’ Then her mouth curved. ‘He says he hasn’t sought advancement within the church hierarchy because Father Bishop is bad enough. He doesn’t want to be known as Bishop Bishop.’

Isenberg’s lips twitched. ‘I will be on my best behavior with him.’

Scarlett’s brows lifted. ‘And with Marcus?’

‘Of course,’ Isenberg said again, sobering as Scarlett left the room.

Marcus wanted to protest at being left alone with the lieutenant, but he held his tongue for Scarlett’s sake. Isenberg had already given her a hard time about spending time with him. He wasn’t going to give her any more ammunition.

When the door was closed and they were alone, Isenberg cleared her throat. ‘She asked me to stay with you because she knows that I owe you an apology, Mr O’Bannion.’

‘You’ll have to be more specific, Lieutenant. I’m thinking you owe me more than one.’

One side of her mouth quirked up. ‘You might be right,’ she said wryly. ‘My first exposure to you was nine months ago, when you were shot trying to shield a victim. I thought you had to be a good guy. My opinion has not changed.’

‘Then why the hostility?’

Looking down at the table, she exhaled heavily. ‘I never met you nine months ago. I only read in Detective Bishop’s report about what you’d done. My first personal exposure to you was this morning, when I heard you singing on the video files you took in the park.’ She swallowed audibly. ‘You were singing the song they sang at the funeral of someone who was close to me. I’ve been . . . off all day.’

‘“Go Rest High On That Mountain”,’ Marcus murmured. ‘It was sung at my brother’s funeral too. I couldn’t sing it for him myself then because my lung was punctured. I only sang it the first time in the park because I thought I was alone. I sang it the second time because I thought it would draw Tala. It did.’

‘I know. Scarlett told me.’ Isenberg exhaled again. ‘Hearing your voice was a trigger for me as soon as you walked off the elevator, just as I’d known it would be. I knew when you became involved with this case that I would hear your voice again, probably often. Even if you’re just talking, it’s a trigger. It takes me back to a place and time I’d rather forget. Add to that the loss of one of our team members today, and I’m not myself.’

‘Special Agent Spangler.’ Marcus felt a stab of guilt that he’d almost forgotten about him. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’

‘Thank you. Nevertheless, I took it out on you. I’m sorry. I was wrong.’

It was a pretty apology, he thought. Sincerely delivered. ‘It’s forgotten,’ he said.
As long as it doesn’t happen again
, he added silently. ‘I’m sorry my singing brought you pain.’

‘The pain was already there,’ she said with something between a smile and a grimace. ‘The pain is
always
there.’ She tilted her head, studying him closely. ‘Do you intend to pursue my detective?’ she asked, abruptly changing the subject.

‘Scarlett?’ he asked, stunned by her directness. ‘I think that’s not your business.’

She gave him a hard nod. ‘Good. I was hoping you had a spine. You’ll need it to deal with Scarlett Bishop. She’s a hard nut.’

That long blink thing must fool other people
, he thought. Because the woman he wanted with every breath in his body had a soft heart he feared he could smash if he weren’t careful.
So be careful
, he told himself.
Be very, very careful.

He said nothing, just sat staring at her, and Isenberg actually laughed. ‘This might be more entertaining than I thought,’ she said. ‘You might finally be the one to catch her.’

His brows lifted at this. ‘Others have tried?’

‘Others have tried and failed spectacularly. Others have hit the pavement face first after saying a simple hello. She’s got a rep, our Scarlett. Quite the ball-buster.’

He frowned at her phrasing, the lieutenant dropping several notches in his esteem. ‘I’m surprised you’d refer to another woman that way. Especially one you claim to respect.’