Stranger in Town (22 page)

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Authors: Cheryl Bradshaw

BOOK: Stranger in Town
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Olivia exited the car slowly, unsure at first.  Mother and child didn’t run to each other, they walked—as if in slow motion.  Tears dripped down Kris’s cheeks every step of the way.  When she finally reached her daughter, she kneeled and held her for several minutes, neither wanting to let go. 

Kris whispered something in Olivia’s ear, and Olivia nodded.  Then Kris walked over to me. 

“I don’t know how to thank you, Ms. Monroe,” she said.  “I never believed I’d see my daughter again.”

It wasn’t something I felt I could take credit for, so I used the moment to shed light on something else.

“You can thank me by putting Olivia first,” I said, “from here on out.  Don’t allow anyone to come between the two of you.”

She nodded, understanding my meaning.   

After the initial commotion died down and I made the rounds, Cade waved me over.   We went outside.  In the last hour, Eddie had passed away.  No one seemed to care.  Not anymore.

“So, I guess they’ve got a solid lead on the company Eddie Fletcher worked for,” he said.  “The company runs some kind of child trafficking operation—everything from babies to teenagers.”

“I hope it gets shut down.”

“Yeah, me too.  You headed home today then?”

“I’m not sure yet.  I guess so.”

“We make a good team, you know?”

I winked.

“Are you offering me a job?”

He shrugged. 

“I’m sure the chief is dying to hire a feisty woman without any legitimate law enforcement experience.”

Cade put his arm around me.  “You know what I mean.”

“I feel the same way.  I’ve never liked working with a partner before, but it’s different with you.”

He squeezed my shoulder and then let me go.  “If you’re ever
not
dating someone, you know where to find me.”

I leaned in, kissing him on the cheek.  “Maybe I will.”

CHAPTER 42

 

 

I was an hour into my drive home when Cade called.   

“Miss me already?” I said.

“My dad.  He’s—”

No!  He couldn’t be.  Not yet. 

I didn’t want to finish the sentence, say the word “dead”—it seemed such a callous and inappropriate thing to say to someone who’d just lost a parent.

“Has he passed away?” I said.

“About an hour ago,” Cade said.  “I wasn’t even there, Sloane.  I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

My body stiffened, my hands unable to grip the wheel any longer.  I pulled the car over.  Cars whizzed past at high speed, but life had just slowed to a stop for me.     

“I’m sorry, Cade.  Are you okay?”

For the next several minutes, I offered a comforting ear, listening to Cade reminisce about some of the best memories he’d shared with his father.  He mentioned everything from fly fishing to the time his dad taught him how to ride a bike.  It was his way of dealing with the loss.  At the end of the conversation, he didn’t ask me to come back.  He just said he didn’t know who else to call, and he thanked me for listening. 

The car idled.  I squirmed in my seat, taking my seatbelt off and then putting it back on again.  I didn’t even know why I sat there.  It wasn’t my father who’d died, but what a difference our short time together had made.  Cade had surprised me; he wasn’t like other guys.  It usually took me months, sometimes even years to form a lasting friendship with someone—man or woman.  But he’d become just that—my friend.  And I didn’t have too many close ones. 

A text message popped up on my phone.  It was Lucio: Boss needs you to come home right away.

I replied: Why?

Lucio said: Talk about it when you get here.  Giovanni asks how long you’ll be.

Being under someone’s thumb had never worked for me, even when it came to Giovanni.  In the time we’d known one another, he’d always allowed me to lead my own life.  But lately something had changed.  It wasn’t a control issue; it was something more, like he was watching out for me as if he
had
to.  Maybe his sensitivity was heightened because of what happened to Daniela.  I wasn’t sure. 

I had a decision to make.  I thought about continuing home, and I thought about Cade.  He was suffering, and I owed him a lot.  I was sure he wouldn’t have seen it that way, but he’d accepted me, treating me like an equal on the case when few others would.

I texted Lucio: I have unfinished business here.  Giovanni will have to wait.

And then I called Cade.

“I’m not letting you go through this alone,” I said.  “I’ll see you in an hour.”

I steered the car to the next exit and then turned around.  On the drive back to Jackson Hole, I thought about my life, what I wanted, what I needed, and where I was going.  I didn’t know, really.  All I could see was the day in front of me and where it would take me: back into the life of a new friend.

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All of Cheryl Bradshaw’s novels are heavily researched, proofed, edited, and professionally formatted.  Should you find any errors, please contact the author directly.  Her assistant will forward the issue(s) to the publisher.  It’s our goal to present you with the best possible reading experience, and we appreciate your help in making that happen. You can contact the author through her
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AFTERWORD

 

 

What you have just read is a work of fiction, but unfortunately, the type of kidnapping described in the novel exists in the world today. 

According to recent statistics, more than 800,000 children under the age of eighteen are reported missing each year.  That amounts to almost 2,200 per day.  What I am about to say might be a bit hard for you to read, so if you are sensitive, I’d advise you to stop reading now.

Similar to what I wrote about in Stranger in Town, children are sometimes taken by illegal agencies.  They put the children up for adoption or for sale.  Kidnappers working for the agency may even be asked to find a specific type of child.  But that’s not all. 

Children are sometimes taken for their organs.  In society today, people can even search the internet for a broker and pay a price for the organ they desire.  It’s hard to believe, but it’s true, and it’s a multi-million dollar criminal industry, surpassing all others in profitability, even drug smuggling.    

In many countries children are even sold into prostitution, many men preferring young, white, blond girls.  Boys might also be taken for breeding purposes.  Over a million children are bought and sold across international borders every single year.  Most are sold into the commercial sex trade. 

Human trafficking is horrific, but nonetheless real.  To learn how you can help prevent these crimes, check out the
Operation61 website

Table of Contents

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

For updates on the author and her books:

AFTERWORD

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