Devil in Disguise (27 page)

He nodded.

“Veronica, I am so sorry to have to ask this now, but do you
know what happened?”

“All I know is what I saw on the board I was monitoring. They were online bragging about uncovering a snitch. They said . . .” Veronica paused, regrouping. “They said they put a hole in her belly. They put a
hole in both their bellies. They were going to watch them bleed out, but someone heard the shots and called the police.”

Rachel nodded solemnly, rubbing Veronica’s back. “You said my cover was blown – did they know who I was or just that I was trying to set them up?”

She shook her head. “I don’t think they knew who you were.”

“Alright.” Rachel nodded again. “You two go see how quickly you can spring Vance from this place. Have Jeff pull strings to
arrange federal protection and transport if you have to. Oh, and ask Jeff to call me when he gets a chance.”

As Conrad and Rachel walked back toward the front of the hospital, Conrad glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “There is
zero chance of me convincing you to let me whisk you away from here before going back to take care of this my own way, isn’t there?”

“I’ve been arguing with God for not giving me the ability to smite people,” Rachel admitted. “Perhaps setting you loose on them
is the closest I’ll come to it in this lifetime. But they’re like a hydra: kill one head, two grow back. I think our best shot is to surprise them – stop running and turn to face them head on, in the open.”

“You know I’ll fight this battle with you, but the chances of
walking away from it unscathed are even smaller than they were with the first plan.”

“Maybe,” she admitted. “Or maybe this time, we win.”

WHEN RACHEL SPOKE TO THE PRESS,
she spoke to a rapt
audience. Standing in the hospital entryway, she announced that various rumors had been circulating regarding her departure from primetime television, none of them true.

“On July fourth of this year, my little sister was taken by human traffickers, forever changing the course of her life, that of my mother,
and even my own. Her abduction woke me up to the fact that slavery not only exists in our modern age;, it is a thriving industry.
Like so many others, I shook my head in dismay at the stories circulating the
media. I said it was sad. I said it was scary. I never expected it to
show up at my back door.

“Unlike the majority of children who are trafficked, Julia is now
safe. We were able to recover her. Though her physical scars will heal, she bears permanent emotional scars. She was taken as a young
girl, full of innocence, with her entire life ahead of her. She was returned
to us with a shattered soul, having lived through more than any woman should have to. Right now, in our country, the largest
demographic for newly trafficked individuals is American-born girls between the ages of twelve and fourteen. In one horrible moment, my sister became part of that statistic, and that statistic ceased to be merely a statement
to regurgitate. It took on a face and a name. I pray your own
daughters never become one of the faces behind that statistic.”

Rachel paused, scanning the crowd to look each camera dead on. Quite a few onlookers had joined the news crews. Several held their phones up, recording her statement for themselves.

Before they could recover or begin to ask questions, she began again. “Since that time, I have been working undercover with a team of operatives to shed light on this evil and to seek the arrest of those responsible for my sister’s capture. Sadly, two members of that team
were shot today. One did not survive. Until her parents have been notified, I can’t give you any information as to her identity, but I will tell you she was beautiful and brilliant, and she had her entire life ahead of her. She was the kind of woman who would have changed the world, yet she gave the ultimate sacrifice because she couldn’t live in a world that turned a blind eye to the plight of its daughters, and in truth, even its sons.

“I ask that today, we make a promise to ourselves and our children. Let’s change this world and turn a blind eye no more. I’ve been told human traffickers are smart. Let’s be smarter. I’ve been
told they are organized. Let’s be more organized. I’ve been told human traffickers laugh at people like me, those who stand before you and urge you to action. They don’t think you’ll listen. Let’s show them that we are not a joke. We are not complacent. We are not scared. We cannot be manipulated into sitting down and shutting up while they brutalize our children.

“Stand with me and say, ‘No more. You can’t sell our women and children any longer.’ There are laws to be changed, attitudes and behaviors to be changed. It will be hard. We can’t forget about this or move on to the next cause when the wave of media moves on to something else. We must stand firm. The stakes are too high to do otherwise.”

Rachel took a deep breath and glanced over at Conrad, whose barely perceptible nod encouraged her to plunge ahead.

“While I’ve been undercover, my colleagues in New York have been working tirelessly to bring you the full story. The first segment will air tonight. I encourage you not only to watch, but to reflect on
what you see. Look at your daughter as she plays, watch your son tossing
the ball, and ask yourself if you are ready for your child to be one of the faces behind the statistic. If the answer is no, then you must act. Without swift and decisive action to change the climate in our country, it is only a matter of time until it is one of your children
who is lost to this void.

“I’ve been told that because I fought back, if I come out of hiding, I will be killed. Already, multiple attempts have been made
to take the
lives of those I love. This is my official response to any human
trafficker who might make an attempt to harm me or mine in retaliation for me standing up to you: Bite me, you insignificant little worm. Be a man and face me head on, or get the hell out of my yard.”

At that, a cheer went up from the audience who had gathered. Rachel glanced back over at Conrad, who winked at her. She smiled back at him, ready to hide in his embrace. There was nothing more
to say at this point, she knew, so she thanked the crowd for their attention and, without heed to who was watching or what they
thought, she went to his side. He wrapped her in his solid arms, his quiet strength lending her power.

“You wouldn’t happen to have a car, would you?” Rachel asked, her head still tucked up against him.

“I do. Where can I take you?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“I suppose we need to make our way back to New York, since you just committed them to airing a segment that may or may not be finished,” he suggested.

“Yeah, Jacob’s probably pretty ticked over that one.”

As Conrad drove them to the airport, there was an eerie silence.
Rachel wasn’t sure what she expected in response to her little speech: their car to be bombed, random gunmen to show up, or a kidnapping attempt. When all she got was silence, it unnerved her.

With relative ease, they booked a flight to New York. Jacob
wasn’t even mildly surprised to see her show up at the station. Conrad was
shown to Rachel’s office, where he set about checking in on their team and their families while Rachel attended a huddle in Brian’s
office with both Brian and Jacob.

“You even steal the story that you gave me in the first place,” Brian teased, the twinkle in his eye assuring her he wasn’t angry.

“I don’t try to. Well, I didn’t try to this time,” Rachel amended before continuing. “It was the only way I could think of to get out of Atlanta alive. I figured no one would make an attempt at my life
with
the cameras on me. If they martyr me, they run the risk of
galvanizing the people. This is still your story.”

“I do want to interview you, though,” Brian told her. “You
raised some good questions that bear digging deeper into.”

“Did you get a hold of the resources Conrad gave you?”

“I did. We’re flying many of them in this week. We plan to air a segment each night, along with interviews to take the readers deeper into that night’s issue and resources to educate the viewers, tell them how they can fight or make a difference.”

“Bring in some lawmakers, too. See if you can get them to
answer
on air for their inability to make laws that close the loopholes
traffickers are freely jumping through,” Rachel suggested.

“Already done,” he promised.

“I knew you got paid the big bucks for a reason.”

“Here’s the schedule so far. We weren’t planning on running it
until next week, but with a little scrambling, I think we can move it up to this week.” He handed her a printout of the proposed segments.

“This is good.” She approved.

“Your video from today is already going viral. We plan to set up
a page on the website with some more of the videos you captured
while undercover; we’ll see if we can get those to go viral, too.”

“What about bringing in parents to talk about the issue and ways we can all go about keeping our children safer? I mean, I never checked Julia’s friend lists because I was respecting her privacy. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have recognized the traffickers on the list. I would imagine most parents are willing to keep their kids safe, they just don’t know how to go about it. Until I got involved in this, I had no idea the technology at the traffickers’ disposal.”

“Then maybe we should cover some of that here, in this
segment.” Brian pointed to the schedule.

“Good. Yes, I like it.”

The two colleagues collaborated until they were pulled apart to get ready for the evening’s show. Rachel showered at the station and dressed in clothes brought in by her assistant. It felt good to be in her old clothes again.

“You look amazing.” Conrad shook his head. “It’s crazy how fast I got used to you being my Rachel. It’s weird seeing you as
America’s Rachel Cooper again.”

“I’m still yours.”

“I don’t know. I see you like this, how completely in your element you are, and I think maybe it’s a good thing we don’t have a
license.”

“Conrad Joseph Langston,” Rachel snapped, turning to face him
in a fiery rage. “Say something like that again and I might have to pick up Veronica’s habit of throwing shoes. You don’t mean that, do you?”

“Look at you. Look at me. We come from completely different worlds.”

“Yeah, we do. But didn’t I do okay in yours?”

“But you flourish in yours,” he argued.

“So let’s build our own world — one that combines yours and mine.”

“This isn’t a fairy tale.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t have a happy ending. Have you
decided you don’t love me? Is that what this is about?”

“No!” He raised his voice uncharacteristically, running his
fingers through his hair.

“Then what is this?”

“You are really okay with walking away from all of this?” He took a step toward her.

“I loved this job; you’re right about that. But it’s time for that
chapter of my life to end. Even if you walk out that door never to return
–
don’t you even think about walking out that door – even if you
weren’t around, though, this part of me has to come to an end. I’m here to finish this one particular fight, and then I plan on disappearing into the wild blue with you, Conrad. Whatever chapter comes next, you’re in it.”

In two strides, he’d closed the distance between them and swept her into his arms. When he kissed her, it hit her just how much she’d been craving his touch. Her hands didn’t know where to go next. She wanted all of him, but she settled for sinking her fingers into his hair. Without regard to the fact that she was dressed and ready to go on the air, somehow Rachel found herself completely wrapped around Conrad, lost in the mother of all kisses.

She can’t say how far it would have gone, because a tap at the door startled them both. They were still in the process of disentangling and straightening clothes when Brian popped his head in her dressing room.

He coughed uncomfortably, turned as if to go, and then paused. “I talked to Stewart. He’s hoping you’ll pop by for an interview while you’re in town. It might get your message in front of a new audience.”

“Thank you.” Rachel sincerely wished her breathing would
return to normal.

“You might want to take another look at your makeup before you come on tonight,” Brian advised, the edge of his mouth ticking as if it wanted to curl into a grin.

“Thank you.”

“Marriage suits you, Cooper. You’re more fun.”

“Thank you. I think.” Rachel tipped her head to the side,
wondering how she should take that. “Actually, Conrad and I were just having a bit of a fight about that very subject.”

“I wish my wife and I fought like that,” Brian muttered. “I’m afraid to ask, but curiosity is going to win out: What were you ‘fighting’ about?”

“Whether I’m suited for marriage.”

“That wasn’t what I was saying. I was merely offering you an
out if you felt you’d chosen the wrong path,” Conrad practically growled, running his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“Again, journalistic curiosity, what is the out?”

“It’s kind of hard to get a marriage license when you’re running for your life.” Rachel was acutely embarrassed to admit to her most respected colleague that she wasn’t really married to Conrad, even though she wore his ring and called him her husband. Here in the real world, it felt a little silly.

“Interesting.” He made a face as if mulling over her words.
“Conrad,
for what my opinion is worth, she doesn’t seem like a woman regretting her decision. Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth; just say
‘thank you very much’ and run with it.”