In Plain Sight (3 page)

Pearl clamped her lips together, her eyes showing her misery. She struggled to take a deep breath but sobbed instead. No one rushed to comfort her.

Myra got up and walked over to the kitchen counter, where she’d tossed her keys. She picked them up and tossed them to Pearl. “Take my car. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

“Wha . . . what?”

“I want you to leave, Pearl. That means go. Take my car. I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

“But . . . why . . . ?”

Charles moved then and opened the kitchen door. Fergus was behind him with an oversize umbrella. He handed it over.

“Drive carefully,” Annie called out.

Pearl whirled around. “No! This is wrong. I need you.” She fixed her wild-eyed gaze on Annie and Myra. “My daughter is off-limits. I thought of all people that you two would understand. I know my daughter just the way you knew your daughters. It’s all up here,” she said, tapping her head. “I did not commit anything to paper or file or record. You have to believe me. Those women trust me. I have to honor that trust even if I end up finishing my days in a federal prison. Their lives are in my hands and only mine.”

Charles moved forward and closed the door. Fergus reached for the umbrella. Myra and Annie moved and wrapped the sobbing woman in their arms.

“We’re going to make it right, Pearl. All you have to do is trust us.”

Pearl nodded.

Chapter 2

T
he gang started to arrive a little after four-thirty. While their greetings were exuberant, the usual upbeat tone was missing. Everyone was wet and soggy with just the short run from Myra’s parking lot to the house. Four inside-out umbrellas were tossed in a messy heap at the top of the steps thanks to the gusty winds.

Inside, Charles and Fergus handed out towels and offered to throw jackets and shirts into the dryers. Everyone declined and just said to turn off the A/C. Fergus obliged. Charles handed out cups of sweet apple tea, which the group guzzled before they followed Myra and Annie to the underground war room. Charles and Fergus brought up the rear, with a warning to Lady and her pups to watch over things topside.

Lady yipped and ran back to the kitchen and looked around for a spot that would allow her to see the monitor that controlled the electronic gates outside. Satisfied that she was in position, she yipped again, and her pups took up their positions and went to sleep.

Down below, Annie pressed the button on the specially built table in the war room. They all watched as the table separated, and new leaves settled into place to accommodate everyone in the room. Myra called the meeting to order the moment everyone was seated. She didn’t mince words and got right to the point.

“The Good Samaritan Clinic has been breached. As you all know, this is the clinic Julia Webster founded years ago when we were all . . . ah . . . starting out. Pearl just found out this morning. Annie, Pearl, and I removed all the files that could possibly incriminate her and her organization. Mr. Snowden is securing all of the, for want of a better word, evidence, in a secure location. Pearl came to us because she believes that two of her . . . um . . . clients have disappeared. She assured us that everyone, that means the doctors, the nurses, the aides, has been thoroughly vetted. There is a possibility that the two women in question, and there are two, simply went somewhere and haven’t gotten back yet. To be honest, I don’t think anyone believes that, at least I don’t. That’s pretty much it in a nutshell. We’re now open for questions.”

Maggie scrunched her face into a mask of puzzled concern. “What does the clinic have to do with your supposedly missing two people? I say this with all due respect, Pearl, but are you sure you didn’t jump the gun when you rushed to close the clinic?”

“I didn’t see that I had a choice, Maggie. Not just because of 9643 and 9644 but for all the others who underwent surgery at the clinic. I had to think about all of them. I would rather have jumped the gun than not jump. In this . . . ah . . . line of work, you cannot leave anything to chance. Before and after pictures, medical histories, that kind of thing. Even simple surgeries require truth on the part of the patient. That’s the only answer I can give you at this time, and if I had to do it over again, I’d do the same exact thing.” Maggie unscrunched her features and nodded.

“How do you know for certain that the women are gone?” Nikki asked.

“They didn’t answer their phones. We give all our people special phones, and they know that when they ring, they are to pick up immediately. It’s mandatory to check in once a week. Both 43 and 44 failed to check in. We have strict rules about that. To date, none of our people has failed in that regard. Until now.”

“Did you go to where they live to check on them?” Alexis asked.

“I sent one of our people. She said everything looked normal, almost as though 43 and 44 went out for a walk and hadn’t gotten back yet. The phones were in the kitchen on the counter. I will personally go shortly, but my gut is telling me they’re gone,” Pearl said miserably.

“Isn’t it odd that two women came to you together? Is it a mother and daughter, two sisters, what?” Yoko asked.

“Yes, odd, but one helped the other, so it was only natural that we had to take them both to prevent any blowback on the helper. We’ve only had one other case like that over the years, and nothing went awry at that time. We really didn’t have a choice,” Pearl said.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Jack said. “Off the top of your head, what do you think? You’ve been doing this for a lot of years, Pearl. What is your gut telling you?”

Her eyes still wild and unfocused, Pearl looked around at the others and groaned. “My gut is telling me two of my people are in serious trouble, and since I have never had this problem before, I don’t know what to do or think other than that I now realize I can’t do this myself, and I need help.”

“What do you want us to do, Pearl?” Dennis asked.

Pearl stared across the table at the young reporter she liked so much and respected. Her thoughts were all over the place. How did she go from being a Supreme Court justice to this place in time? One minute she was applying and interpreting the law, and the next minute she was breaking the law, knowing full well she could go to prison for the rest of her life. She’d done it all for her daughter at first as she tried to save her and her granddaughter from an abusive husband and father, and the whole thing had grown legs. And now she was totally in charge of her underground railroad, saving women’s and children’s lives. Finally, she found her tongue. “Help me. Do whatever you have to do to find out what went wrong. Rescue the women.”

Kathryn massaged her leg as she listened to Pearl and the others. This weather was killing her, and she was in so much pain with her leg that she wanted to cry. Perhaps another place, another time, she might have held her tongue, but not now.

“Well, you see, Pearl, here’s the thing. I’m speaking for myself right at this moment, but I can almost guarantee that the others are thinking what I’m going to say. I’m tired of your bullshit with giving your people numbers and not sharing their names with us. This is the second time you’ve come to us to save your sorry ass, and we stepped up to the plate for you. Not this time, Miss Supreme Court Justice. You give us the people’s names and let us decide how to handle it. Secrecy is a wonderful thing, and in your case, I doubly respect it. But there comes a time when that doesn’t work, and that time is now. I am not putting my ass on the line for you again. Either you tell us everything, or I am outta here. As in now.”

“Kathryn is right,” Nikki said, standing up as Kathryn struggled to get out of her chair. Yoko and Isabelle pushed back their chairs to follow suit. Alexis looked around and did the same thing.

Annie cleared her throat and pushed out of her chair, followed by Myra.

“I do believe this is what you call fish or cut bait,” Fergus hissed into Charles’s ear.

“I do believe you are right, my friend,” Charles hissed in return.

And then they were all on their feet, ready to leave the war room.

“Looks to me like you’re on your own, Miss Supreme Court Justice,” Kathryn snapped. “What’s for dinner, Charles?”

“Dinner! You’re worried about dinner! I can’t believe this!” Pearl screamed.

Kathryn, always the most outspoken, always the one who moved at the speed of light, whirled around, her face a mask of pain at the quick movement. “Yes, Pearl, I’m worried about my dinner. It doesn’t pay to worry about you because you are a selfish bitch who only thinks of herself. I’m sorry I have to admit I know you. We all came here because you said you needed us. That’s what we do, we help people who can’t help themselves. If you can’t trust us, Pearl, whom can you trust? All you want is someone to save your sorry ass, then to show your appreciation, you throw obstacles in the path of those of us who are trying to help you. Well, screw you and the horse you rode in on!”

The room and the mood turned ugly, as everyone started to talk at once. Dennis West moved closer to Harry, his idol and protector. He was almost certain the next step would be bloodshed, and he didn’t want to be the one doing the shedding.

Tears rolling down her cheeks, Pearl knew she was beaten. Either she gave up her secrets or she would be left alone to deal with the immediate crisis. “All right. All right! Please, all of you, sit down, and I’ll tell you who . . . who the women are.” She closed her eyes, made the sign of the cross on her chest, and let loose with a huge sigh.

“Her name is Amalie Laurent. The other woman’s name is Rosalee Muno.”

The women, the guys as well, stared at each other, then at Pearl. “Are those names supposed to strike fear in our hearts? I never heard of either one of them,” Isabelle said.

“Who the hell are Amalie Laurent and Rosalee Muno?” Abner Tookus demanded. The others shrugged, not recognizing either name.

“The name sounds kind of familiar. Are those maiden names or married names?” Maggie asked. She looked at Ted. “Did we ever do a story on either woman, an interview?”

Ted frowned. “Sounds familiar. I’d say yes, but I can’t recall specifically.” He looked at Espinosa, who just shook his head that he didn’t remember either.

Dennis was already tapping in the names for a Google search. A moment later he said, “Laurent is the face of a French cosmetic company.
La Natural.
She’s married to . . . holy shit, she’s married to Lincoln Moss. Everyone in the entire universe knows who Lincoln Moss is.
La Natural
is the crown jewel of the man’s holdings.” He held up his iPhone so the others could see what he’d just seen. “There is nothing on the Muno woman.”

One by one, everyone returned to their seat and stared at Pearl. “Talk!” Annie demanded in a voice that left no room for silence.

Pearl swiped at her tears. “Five years ago, Rosalee Muno sought us out. We had helped a cousin of hers a while back. She talked to one of our people and said she needed help for her employer, who was afraid to come forward. She explained that Amalie was married to Lincoln Moss, and as Dennis said, everyone in the world knows who Lincoln Moss is. He had, according to Rosalee, been beating and abusing Amalie for years. She said Moss would never let Amalie out of his sight, and there was always security around her. There was no way for her to get away. Rosalee said she was worried that Amalie was going to do something to herself because she’d finally given up.

“It wasn’t easy, and I can give you the details later, but we managed to get her and Rosalee to safety. Rosalee didn’t want to go into the program, but we convinced her, knowing what we all do about Lincoln Moss, that it was in her best interest to go with Amalie.

“Right off the bat, we moved both women to Boise, Idaho, by way of our underground railroad. They stayed there decompressing for eight months. Over the next four months we transported them through four different states, and they stayed one month in each state, so we could monitor Moss’s activities—which, by the way, were none. A year to the day, both women signed in to the Good Samaritan Clinic for just enough surgery to alter their appearances. Amalie was particularly hard because she is so beautiful. She is still beautiful, but she no longer looks as she did when she lived with Lincoln Moss. Rosalee was easy. Over the course of the year, she dropped thirty-five pounds. She was a bit . . . ah . . . overweight when she came to us. We changed their hairstyles, hair color, the usual. Add giving them colored contact lenses, which doesn’t sound like much, but factor in the minor surgery, and you’re looking at entirely different individuals.

“During all of that time, we had speech therapists working with Amalie so she could rid herself of her French accent. She now speaks English better than any of us. But . . . if she stresses out, she reverts to French, which is not a good thing. She loves American slang and excels at it. Rosalee was no problem even though she’s of Mexican descent. She was born here, and English is her natural voice.”

“After the surgery, where did you put them?” Myra asked.

“In plain sight, in Arlington, Virginia. We had a little house we rented for the two of them. We got both of them part-time jobs, so they would blend in with the neighborhood. They drive ten-year-old Honda Civics. Rosalee works at the Home Builders Depot part-time, and Amalie works in the local library part-time, in the reference department. They never go out to eat or to the movies or anyplace where they can be scrutinized. No one really pays attention to salespeople or librarians. In their spare time, they do a lot of gardening, raise some vegetables, grow a lot of flowers. They painted and decorated the little cottage to meet their needs. They were happy. Truly happy. Rosalee even had a boyfriend of sorts, a young man she met at her place of work. Nothing romantic, just good friends. Yes, the young man was vetted up one side and down the other, and he is exactly who he says he is, a college student working during the summer to help with his tuition.

“There is no computer at the cottage. We explained that the temptation was too great, that Amalie might want to contact her family, what’s left of it, back in France, even though she said she wouldn’t. She swore to us on her mother’s soul that she would not use the computers at the library. We lied and told her we would be able to tell if she did. As far as I know, she honored the promises she made to us.

“They attend church services every Sunday and blend in well in the little community they live in.”

“I guess you gave them new identities,” Harry said. “What are their new names?”

Pearl swallowed hard. When Kathryn banged her fist on the table, Pearl almost jumped out of her skin. “Amalie is now Patricia Olsen. Everyone calls her Patty. Rosalee is Emily Appleton. Before you can ask, the young man she is seeing is Jason Woods. He is studying to be an engineer and works part-time at the Home Builders Depot. He’ll graduate next spring, possibly as early as December of this year. Now you know as much as I know.” Pearl sagged in her chair as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. No one rushed to comfort her.

“Is there a landline at the cottage?” Charles asked.

“No. They just have the special cells we gave them, and they are monitored. I haven’t had a chance to check with our people. This all happened so quick, and the top priority was to clear the clinic. No one is going to talk, I can guarantee that.”