Midnight Crossing (15 page)

*   *   *

Josie got into her jeep and called Nick to let him know she was headed to the charity event with her mom.

“Hanging out with the rich and famous tonight?” She could hear the smile in his voice.

“Neither. I’m hanging out with the do-gooders.”

“What’s wrong with people trying to do good?” he said.

His question made her pause. “I don’t know. Nothing’s wrong with them. They’re good people.”

“Then why call them do-gooders? Why do they irritate you?”

“It’s the self-righteous people who throw their good out there for praise that irritate me.”

“So give them a little praise. What’s wrong with that?”

“I think you’re trying to harass me.”

He laughed. “I’m not. I’m just trying to understand you. You’re a complicated person sometimes.”

She sighed. She couldn’t explain her reasoning to herself at times, so how could she expect Nick to understand her? She changed the subject. “What are your plans tonight?”

“I’m on stakeout. We had a big breakthrough this morning. We know where the victim’s being held. We hope to close in tonight with a rescue. I won’t see you tonight. Maybe tomorrow if everything goes well.”

“That’s great. Just be careful, stay safe. And let me know what happens.”

NINE

After a quick shower and change into a yellow sundress and sandals, Josie pulled her hair up into a clip and left the house in a rush to pick her mom up at Manny’s by 5:50. Her mom was standing by the curb and had the jeep’s door open before Josie had reached a complete stop. She hopped in, smelling like a mixture of perfume and hair spray and deodorant and lotion and all the other cosmetics she had no doubt applied.

“Lord have mercy, Josie. I’d have thought after all these years you’d have figured out how to get somewhere on time.”

Josie pulled away from the curb, drove to the stoplight, and turned left, heading a half mile out of town to the Artemis Fellowship Church.

“I have a job to do, Mom. I can’t just leave an investigation because I have a dinner date. It doesn’t work that way.”

“You know I hate walking into somewhere late.”

If there was one thing Josie could say about her mother, she was punctual, preferably ten minutes early to any function. Josie preferred to walk in on time so she could avoid the inevitable small talk that came with early arrival.

After they parked, her mother chattered all the way through the parking lot and down the stairs to the large fellowship area and kitchen. At least fifty women were sitting in metal folding chairs around a dozen tables, smiling and talking amicably. Josie spotted two empty chairs, side by side near the middle of the room, so she and her mother wove their way through and took a seat, smiling at the women across from them.

Her mother put her hand out to the woman sitting on her left and introduced herself as Josie nodded and smiled to the vaguely familiar-looking woman on her right. Then she glanced across the table to find Melissa Chang looking awkwardly away, like she was searching for someone in the crowd. Josie had tangled with her about a year ago when the twenty-something-year-old woman had called the police to report a tree down in the middle of the road. Josie had driven right over and found a limb that she easily dragged off to the side of the road. Melissa still hadn’t left her car, and Josie had asked her why she hadn’t moved it herself.

Melissa had looked at Josie, obviously shocked by the question. “I’m wearing my work clothes! That’s why we have city employees. My taxpayer dollars pay your salary so you can take care of these issues. I did my civic duty.”

“Your taxpayer dollars pay employees to take care of things that other citizens can’t take care of. Your civic duty would have been to get out of the car and move the tree branch yourself.”

The altercation ended in a summons to Mayor Moss’s office and an official reprimand in her employee file. Now here the woman sat in front of her, looking everywhere but directly across the table in Josie’s direction. This was exactly the reason she hated public functions.

Fortunately, Caroline Moss was introduced a few minutes later. In a form-fitting little black dress that showed her curves without being inappropriate for a church setting, she graciously accepted the room’s applause. Tasteful gold jewelry glinted off her neck and ears and wrists, and her blond hair fell softly around her shoulders as she thanked the “fine women of Arroyo County” for coming.

Caroline talked for the next thirty minutes about the “good works” taking place in Artemis and Arroyo County, much of which was being conducted by women “just like you,” she said to a rousing round of applause. Josie smiled and clapped and wished she could text Marta to see how the doctor’s visit was going with Isabella.

“She’s not much of a speaker, is she?” her mom whispered into her ear.

Josie turned and glared at her mom. “Wait till we’re in the car.”

“I’m just saying. She needs some humor or something. I’m about ready to nod off.”

Josie wondered if this was her future: sitting through interminable mother-daughter banquets with a mother who’d lost her filter.

Caroline then introduced half a dozen speakers, each of whom conducted charitable works through her umbrella group, Arroyo County Missions and Outreach. Supper was finally served and another round of speakers took the podium, this time people who had received funding of some kind from the group. By the time Josie had eaten her chocolate cake, she’d decided on a plan to keep the evening from being a total washout.

*   *   *

When Marta arrived at the trauma center at six o’clock, Dr. Brazen had already been meeting with Isabella for over thirty minutes. When he was done, the nurse led them to the staff lounge for a quiet place to discuss the case.

“How is she?” Marta asked.

“She’s come a long way in two days, given she has no family or friends here.”

“I realize you’re limited on what information you can provide me in terms of her recovery. But we’re desperate to get information on the two men that transported her. A woman was murdered and we discovered three other women are missing. And every day that passes makes it more difficult to catch the killer.”

He nodded once, his face in a deep frown. “What do you need from me?”

“Your professional opinion and your presence.” Marta held up the photograph lineup Otto had given her, which included photos of Josh Mooney and Ryan Needleman. “We believe we have photos of the two men that drove the women from Guatemala. We believe at least one of the men raped the woman who was killed, and possibly Isabella. We haven’t asked her that question yet, but it’s important information for us to move forward with the case.”

“Would you like to ask the questions with me present in the room?”

Marta sighed with relief. “I would. I feel very uncomfortable asking these hard questions, considering her state of mind.”

“I understand. With the progress she’s made over the last twenty-four hours, I feel confident she can handle the conversation. Let’s go have a word with her.”

“One more thing. You mentioned moving her into a home until we can contact her family.” Marta went on to explain the lack of agencies in their small town to help with something like that, and Josie’s refusal to allow her to stay with an officer. “But we do have a small motel in town. It’s clean and run by a good man who will keep an eye on Isabella. We’ll have officers checking on her frequently.”

“I think it’s an excellent idea. Physically she’s fine. And I don’t see psychological harm in moving her. The sooner she sees herself as recuperating, the better. Assuming the conversation we’re about to have goes well, I’d move her this evening.”

Marta smiled. “That’s good to hear.” She knew the importance of keeping an emotional distance from victims, but young people, especially a young woman so close to her own daughter’s age, pulled at her heartstrings. Through the years, Teresa had made some horrible decisions, and Marta thanked God every day that she’d come through them unbroken.

*   *   *

The doctor knocked on Isabella’s door and entered. He was inside with her for about five minutes before he beckoned Marta into the room. With the overhead light off and the light outside the window fading, gray shadows played across their faces. Marta was glad when Dr. Brazen turned on the bedside lamp.

She reached out her hand and Isabella took it and smiled slightly, but her eyes revealed the dread of what was to come.

Dr. Brazen stood next to Marta and spoke quietly. “You’ve come a long way, Isabella. I feel confident you’ll recover from the terrible things that happened. Once you’re reunited with your family, and you continue talking to a doctor, you’ll come through this a stronger person.”

She nodded, her eyes focused intently on him.

“You understand that Marta’s job is to put the men that hurt you in jail? She wants to lock them away so they can’t hurt you or anyone else.”

“I know that,” she said. Her voice was soft but strong.

Marta was shocked at the difference, even in her appearance, from last night. Her long black hair was clean and pulled back in a headband, and her pale cheeks now had a little color. Marta was struck by how innocent she appeared, sitting in the white hospital bed in the cotton gown.

Marta felt the doctor’s eyes on her and she realized he was giving her the signal to proceed.

“Let’s start by talking about your family,” Marta said. “We want to get you back home. If you can give me a phone number and an address, I’ll make contact. We can start making arrangements to connect you.”

Her expression turned cold and she shook her head. “No.”

“I’ll be glad to talk with them, explain what’s happened.”

“No. I won’t talk about this.”

Marta sighed. She had no idea what the issue was: the shame of taking family money and not achieving the goal, the shame of rape, the fear of returning. Marta had hoped to break the ice with talk of her family, but it hadn’t worked. She hoped the girl’s resolve would soften.

“Isabella, the doctor explained that we want to help you. We want you to be safe.”

The young woman pursed her lips and jutted her chin out in a brave gesture.

“I’d like to show you some photographs of several men. I’d like you to tell me if you recognize any of them. Can you do that?”

She glanced down at the photos in Marta’s hand and nodded.

Marta held up the sheet of photos and Isabella nodded and pointed to the photo of Ryan Needleman and turned her head away. “Yes. He’s one of them.”

“What do you mean by that?” Marta didn’t want to put words in her mind, so if it ended up at trial, she wouldn’t be accused of leading a witness.

“He drove us. From Guatemala to Mexico.”

“Can you tell me where in Mexico?”

“In Piedra Labrada. That’s where Renata and I ran.”

Marta tried to keep the surprise from her expression. “You told me you didn’t know her name. Why didn’t you tell me before when I asked?”

She looked away, a sign that told Marta she was acknowledging the lie, or still not telling the truth.

“I was just afraid,” Isabella said.

“Can you tell me her last name?”

“She never told me.”

“Do you have any idea where the other women are that didn’t leave with you?”

She took a deep ragged breath, obviously trying to hold back tears. “They wouldn’t come. We begged them, but they said they had to make it to the end. We ran the night we were going to cross the border into the United States. We’d checked into a motel for a few hours’ sleep. Ryan was taking a shower and Josh lay down on the bed and fell asleep. They’d quit being so careful with us. They never imagined we’d run. But I couldn’t take one more night with him.”

“Who do you mean?” Marta asked.

“The man named Josh. He was a monster. So Renata and I left. We opened the door of the motel room, quiet as we could, and then we ran.” She swiped at a tear falling down her cheek. “I don’t know what happened to the rest of them. I’m sorry.”

“You say you couldn’t take one more night. Why is that?”

She looked at Dr. Brazen, who nodded for her to continue. “Josh, he made Renata and me do terrible things. He said he would kill us and our families if we ever told anyone.”

“When you say terrible things … can you be more specific?”

“He raped us.” Her face was stoic, as if she’d planned these words and committed to saying them.

Marta held up the photographs again. “I’d like you to look at this group of photos again and tell me if you see the person who hurt you.”

Isabella studied the photos for several seconds when her composure suddenly broke. “That’s the one,” she said, her voice barely a whisper as she pointed to Josh Mooney’s mug shot from his methamphetamine arrest. “He looks different now, not so skinny as that picture. But that’s him.”

When she shut her eyes against the image, Marta worried she’d just obliterated all of the progress the woman had made, but the doctor stepped closer to her and said, “It’s okay, Isabella. Seeing them again is terrible. It’s completely normal to feel scared and angry. But they’re gone now. And you’re safe.”

Marta felt horrible for pushing further, but she had to ask one more question. She patted the girl’s leg and sat down on the edge of the bed as Isabella wiped her eyes with a tissue.

“I need to ask you one more question. We want to find the person who shot Renata. Can you tell me what happened?”

She started crying again, shaking her head no. She finally managed, “It was dark. We were hiding in the little shed beside the house and we saw the car stop. We knew they were coming for us, so we ran for the pasture, away from the light. Renata and I got separated in the dark. I heard the gun and kept running.”

“Can you tell me how many men there were?”

“I don’t know.”

Marta let it go. If Isabella knew more, it was clear she was still too frightened to share the information.

*   *   *

At eight p.m., donation buckets were passed around the room and guests were encouraged to mingle with the women who’d shared their stories. Josie made a beeline for Caroline before she got caught up in the small talk that would no doubt last far longer than Josie wanted to stay.