Seeds of Evidence (9781426770838) (44 page)

“The kitchen?” Kit suggested.

“Sí. All right.”

A few minutes later, Adriana walked in, her arm around the waist of the young woman with cuts on her arms. “This is Isabella,” she said.

Isabella's long dark hair strategically fell over part of her face, like a curtain behind which she could hide. Parallel lines scored on her arms betrayed the anguish in her soul.

Wisely, Steve remained quiet, letting Kit take the lead. “Isabella, my name is Kit. We've come to help you.” The woman glanced at her as Adriana translated, then her eyes dropped again. “Can you tell us what happened?”

It would take more than that invitation to get her talking. It would take a cup of tea, and some small talk, and an unrelated
conversation to create an atmosphere safe enough for Isabella to open up.

Though tired, Kit remained patient. Steve stayed in the background, leaning casually against a countertop, his expression vague. Kit was frankly surprised at his ability to downshift that way. But despite his low-key demeanor, Isabella still kept glancing at him nervously and finally he caught Kit's eye and indicated he was leaving the room.

That broke the ice. Hesitantly, like a child confessing a misdeed, Isabella began telling her story.

She had come from a poor village in Mexico, she told Kit through Adriana. She had married young, had a child, and then her husband had become very ill. They had no money for medical care, and no hope, so when a friend told Isabella about this man named Hector who could get her a good job in America she jumped at the chance.

“He bring me in a truck with many others,” she said, lapsing into broken English, “me and my son.”

Kit's heart skipped a beat. “Your son?”

“I have nowhere to leave him! No one to take him. I come here to work and send dollars home to help my husband. Only . . . only . . .” Isabella began to cry.

Kit reached out and took her hand. “What happened?” She kept her voice soft.

Isabella began speaking again in Spanish, her eyes full of tears, her voice filled with anguish. Kit's eyes remained on Isabella as she listened to Adriana's translation of her words. “She came with many others in a truck. Hector took her passport, saying he needed it to get her work. Soon she found herself in a tomato field, picking from early in the morning until late.

“At first, it was OK. Her son, Jorge, could play nearby. There were some other children, too. It was hard work, and Hector, he not pay her what he promised. Carlos and Carlotta charge her
rent. And for food. The money she had to send back to her husband, it was not enough. One day, she get word, he was dead.

“Then Isabella, she want to go back to Mexico, to her mama. To take her son back. She very, very sad. Very sad. But Carlos say she need to work to pay off debt: debt for the truck, the rent, the food . . . too, too much money she owe. He not let her go. So Isabella take Jorge and try to run away. She get caught. The next time she try that they say something very, very bad will happen to her. She scared, then, very scared. Sometime later, then, this man, Lopez, he catch Jorge playing in a shed. He very, very angry. Why? No one understand! Isabella try to stop him from hurting Jorge. Lopez hit her, he beat her. He tell her to keep her kid away from that place! But Jorge, he love his mama, and he try to protect her.

“That night, Jorge is gone. Isabella look for him all over. In the house. Outside. In the fields, the woods . . . she not find Jorge anywhere. And she cannot eat, she cannot sleep, she just look and look.

“Later, Lopez come to her. He say Jorge run away. But Isabella, she know her boy not do that. Lopez, he took him. She knows that. But where? Her heart not rest, she say, until she know what happened to her Jorge.”

“How long ago did this happen?” Kit asked.

Adriana translated and Isabella shook her head. Then Adriana looked at Kit. “She doesn't know exactly. A month ago or more. When it was hot, very hot. And the tomatoes were ripe.”

Kit's throat was tight. “How old was Jorge?” she asked, barely getting the words out.

The grieving mother understood that question. “Seven. Almost eight.” Isabella responded.

Tears filled Kit's eyes. At last, her beach child had a name.

K
IT JOGGED SOUTH ON
A
SSATEAGUE
B
EACH, HER BARE FEET GRIPPING THE
cool sand, her arms and legs relishing the September breeze. The sun was bright, though lower in the south, and before her the sandpipers skittered as waves swept up onto the shore. They wouldn't be here for long. It was almost time for them to move south.

In the distance, on the beach, she could see a figure standing . . . a man, dressed in navy blue sweats and staring out at the ocean. Curious, she picked up her pace. Two surfers walked past her, headed north, wearing wetsuits and carrying their boards. She ran faster, her breath coming harder now, and she raised her hand to her brow to shield her eyes from the sun. Something was different . . . something was odd . . . something was . . .

The man had crutches. He was standing on the beach, propped up by crutches! Kit pressed forward, her heart pounding, and then her face broke into a wide grin. “David! David! David!” The refreshing air felt cool against her teeth.

David turned toward her, smiling, and as she drew near, he dropped his crutches and swept her into his arms. She nearly knocked him over, elation propelling her. “Whoa, whoa!” he
said, laughing as he fought to maintain his balance. “Be easy on the crippled guy!”

“When did you get here? How long . . . why didn't you call me?” Instinctively she grabbed her cell phone. “You were supposed to text me at least!”

But David ignored her. Gently pushing the cell phone away, he cradled her face in his hands, laced his fingers into her hair, and kissed her. As his mouth touched hers she trembled. He kissed her again, and the rush of a thousand everafters raced up and down her spine.

“How did you find me?” she asked, looking into his face. His eyes were dancing.

“Are you kidding? Everybody on Chincoteague knows where you are. All I had to do was drive into town and ask the first person I saw.” David grinned at her. Here on the beach he looked thinner, and he had lost some of his tan.
A month in the hospital
, she thought,
will do that to you
. “You are famous, girl.”

She picked up his crutches and handed them to him, and slowly they made their way back over the dunes. She peppered him with the thousand questions she'd thought of since she'd seen him last, until he finally laughed and told her the inquisition was over because he couldn't use crutches and think at the same time.

David had parked his Jeep next to her Subaru. He opened the lift gate. Two cups of somewhat lukewarm coffee waited for them. “Sit down,” he said, gesturing, and then he sat down next to her, where they could watch the sun set over Tom's Cove.

The air felt cooler now, and different birds filled the landscape. The fragile warm-weather species had made their way south, while others were coming down from the north. Ducks, loons, geese—the waterfowl found the richness of Assateague
a sustaining pleasure. Soon, too, the snow geese would arrive, skein upon skein of them spiraling down from the sky, noisily descending like silvery ribbons on the brackish ponds of the island.

“So how are you?” Kit asked him, sliding her hand into his.

“Better. I'm starting to get my strength back.”

“You look good.”

“Naturally!” he joked.

“What happened with your boss?” She knew he'd had a meeting with him.

A slow grin spread over David's face. He shook his head. “He was so mad that I was working with you guys without permission. So he fired me. Then, he felt sorry for me because I'd lose my health insurance, so he rescinded that and put me on administrative leave again. With pay. For six months.”

Kit smiled. “He must think a lot of you.”

“He says I'm more trouble than any cop is worth.” David laughed. “How about you?”

She knew he meant the review her boss had performed on the handling of her case. “I survived. I'm not sure I would have, though, if we hadn't found those people.” She took a sip of coffee. “It was really dicey for a time.” The sun resembled an orange lozenge hanging above the horizon. A “V” of geese flew past it, creating a postcard image. “I think Steve and I understand each other better now. And that's a good thing.”

“And what about Carlotta and the others? The victims?”

“We took care of all of them, you know? We are putting several of them, including Jorge's mother, in witness protection. We're prosecuting Consuela and Carlotta . . .”

“Carlotta turned out to be his sister, right?”

“That's right. Cienfuegos's sister. Masquerading as his wife. And they had a lot of money stashed away. A lot.”

“And Consuela?”

Kit looked at him to see if there was anything in his eyes, any regret or anger. There was not. “Conspiracy. Plus, she's here illegally. And pregnant. It's not a very happy time for her. She may be deported. I'm not sure yet. We're trying to help her, a little anyway, for giving us some information about you.”

David nodded. “And Sellers?”

“We got him on drug trafficking. We found all the paperwork in that old schoolhouse. He was a meth dealer. Got his stuff from Lopez. He used a fake ID but we were able to identify him anyway. He tried to run but we caught him. It's a shame: at least four teenagers are hooked on meth, thanks to him.”

“I knew he was bad the minute I saw him.”

Kit turned to him. “Oh, did you?”

“Yeah. I saw the way he was looking at you. I almost punched him out right then and there.”

Kit laughed. David put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close as the sun began to drop below the horizon. “So what's next?” she asked him, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I've got a job interview.”

She turned to look at him. “Really?”

“My boss called a buddy of his and recommended me for a job at a police training academy.”

“In D.C.?”

“Norfolk.” David smiled at her.

“Oh, David!”

“There's this lady who lives down there I'd like to get to know better.” He kissed her ear. “I don't know, though. She's kind of tough. She may be too strong for me.”

Kit smiled. “I don't think so, Ironman.”

She felt his soft breath on her cheek as he nuzzled it, and she turned her face toward him, and the feel of his skin and
the taste of his lips were like nourishment to her. “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.”

In the west, the sun had dropped nearly below the horizon, turning the sky scarlet, pink, and a deep purple. Blue clouds streamed like banners on either side, and a solitary heron lifted off from the shallows of Tom's Cove, proclaiming the end of the day, the end of the summer, and the beginning of a brand new season of her life. Kit rested her head on David's shoulder and watched the receding tide as it streamed out to sea, leaving mud flats rich with marine life. In her mind's eye she could see her anger streaming away, too, her anger toward Eric, her anger toward her mother. She nestled closer to David and, silently, she thanked God.

1. Kit has retreated to Chincoteague after a difficult divorce and a job change. Once the home of her now-deceased grandmother, Chincoteague represents peace, rest, and nurturing to her. Do you have a place that is a home for your heart?

2. After Kit finds the body of a little boy on the beach, she abandons her plans for a vacation and begins to discover what happened to him, even over the objections of her boss. What do you think triggers Kit's intense interest in the case?

3. Read Micah 6:8. Kit has a passion for justice. What justice issues are near and dear to you?

4. David was involved in a shooting in which a teenager was killed. Have you ever known anyone who has experienced post-traumatic stress disorder? Depression? How might you encourage that person?

5. As Kit and David start working together, what is their relationship like? What strengths and weaknesses do they reveal? If you were a close friend of Kit's, how would you advise her if she told you about David?

6. Both Kit and David have experienced trauma at the hands of others. Have you had something happen to you for which you have found it hard to forgive someone?

7. David says that he's discovered that “unforgiveness is a poison you drink hoping someone else will die.” What does that statement mean? Do you think it's true? How has unforgiveness affected you?

8. What does Kit find particularly hard about forgiving Eric? How might Ephesians 4:32 apply? Of what has God forgiven you?

9. Connie makes a remarkable statement after the death of her husband. She tells Kit not to give up the “fight
for joy.” How in the world can anyone reconcile the death of a loved one and joy?