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Page 3
She shivered. The air conditioning chilled the air with only a few bodies in the building to challenge the temperature. Digging in her tote bag for her sweater, she noticed the glow of her cell phone. It was on silent out of habit, so she hadn’t heard it ring.
A spark of adrenaline shot through her when she saw who had called. It was Beth. She had recently recruited Sandy to help her with the Safe At Last program she was in charge of.
Oklahoma City, because of its position, was the actual crossroads of human trafficking in the U.S. Two major highway systems, I-40 which ran east to west across the entire country and I-35 which did the same but from north to south, crossed in the dead center of the state.
Safe At Last was an international ministry that helped rescue those individuals kidnapped and trapped by human traffickers, and sometimes prostitutes and club dancers too. It used to be just young girls, but now young boys were also falling victim to this heinous crime.
As much as Sandy loved her little kindergartners, she felt a strong passion for these victims, and in her heart of hearts she wished she could stop teaching and devote herself to this program full time.
“Beth? It’s Sandy. I saw you had called,” Sandy replied to Beth’s hello.
“Oh Sandy. I didn’t know for sure if you would be available since you are setting up for school. But, if you have any time at all this week, I could sure use your help,” said Beth.
Sandy was quickly thinking of all that she had to do and how quickly she could get it done. “I would love to help, but I’m slogging through unpacking my classroom. When do you need me?”
“I will take any help you can provide. We have rescued three new girls and are trying to get them settled in the safe house. We are short on volunteers to help here,” said Beth.
“Let me hurry through here, and then I can come spend the evening. Randy can pick the kids up from my mom’s and then I can stay as long as you need.” It was hard for Sandy to hide the excitement in her voice. She found such purpose in this, and she felt equally bad she no longer felt that same kind of purpose in teaching.
“Wonderful! Call me as soon as you are done there, and I’ll get you situated on where to go and what to do.”
Sandy bounced up from the desk chair while simultaneously clicking the red dot on her phone. Excitement fueled her, and she unpacked and arranging her room like a madwoman.
At around four she remembered she hadn’t asked Randy to pick up the kids or even told him of her plans.
While she listened to the ringing of the phone, she hoped that this would not start yet another fight. Randy felt as strongly against her being involved in the Safe At Last program as she felt for being involved.
“Hello,” greeted Randy.
“Hi,” responded Sandy a little tentative.
“How’s your day going? About to get your room situated?”
“I’ve made a lot of progress. Only a little left to do.”
“That’s great!” Randy’s voice carried the surprise he felt.
“Can you pick the kids up from my mom’s after you get off work?” She held her breath.
Randy’s voice came across the phone slowly, “I can. Why?”
“Well, Beth called and asked if I could help her this evening.” She was nibbling on a remaining sliver of a nail she’d not been able to cut off earlier with the nail clippers she’d finally found. She could not control her nervousness.
There was silence on the other end of the phone, then… “What are you going to help her with?” She could hear the forced control in Randy’s voice.
“I’m not exactly sure,” said Sandy. Then her excitement took over, and she gushed. “They rescued three more girls and they need my help at the safe house getting them settled for the night.”
Randy was furious. He did not want Sandy involved in that. All summer he’d tried to tell her how dangerous that world was. He had enough on his plate as it was and didn’t want to have to worry about her as well.
“You’re set on going no matter what I say, aren’t you?” asked Randy. His face was flushed, and he had to fight the urge to throw down the phone.
What should she say? She was, but if she said that, it would only start another fight. She wanted Randy to support her choice to help.
“This is really important to me Randy. I can’t tell you how much I want to help those girls.”
“You have your kindergarten kids to help. School starts soon and I seriously doubt you are as ready as you’re letting on.” Randy’s gut wrenched into a knot.
“Fine. Go ahead. I’ll pick up the kids.” Randy was grinding his teeth, but he knew that she would only become more determined the more he pushed back.
Sandy literally bounced up and down. “Thank you. I’ll call you later to let you know that I’m okay,” she said. “I never asked how your day was going.”
“We found a dead prostitute down under the I-35 overpass. She was only twenty-one. And you want to go be in the middle of those people.”
“I will not be in the big middle of those people! I will only be at the safe house helping three scared girls!”
“What if someone comes after them to take them back? What will you do then? Do you have any idea just how much danger you are putting yourself into?” Randy could feel his blood pressure rising as he spoke.
“What if I were a cop like you? I would be in the big middle of it every single day. Do you worry about Carrie and what will happen to her?” There, she’d said it.
She wasn’t really jealous in the traditional sense of Carrie, but there was no doubt in her mind that Carrie and Randy were much closer in many respects than she and Randy were.
Randy wiped his hand over his face. He was so tired of their fighting. His job was stressful and then he had to deal with this at home. The silence between them over the phone was deafening.
“As a matter of fact sometimes I do worry about Carrie. But I love you! I made a vow to protect you and I can’t do that when you insist on inserting yourself into this type of situation.”
Sandy felt ashamed that she’d thrown accusations at him. She knew he loved her, but he had to love her enough to let her follow her heart.
“I know you love me. I love you too,” she said. “But love me enough to let me be and do what I feel I have to do. I love my kids here at school, but I feel a different tug on my heart to help these girls. Please understand and support me in this.” Her voice had grown softer, and the anger had drained from her words.
“I know. Someone has to help them. I only wish it wasn’t you. I’ll pick the kids up after work. Do you have any idea what time you will be home?” Randy was hoping she would just be there a short time. That would reduce her vulnerability and he could get to bed early.
“No. But I should know by the time I call you back,” said Sandy. “Once I get with Beth, she can give me some idea of what I’m to do and how long it will take.”
“Sandy… Never mind.”
“What?”
“Please be careful. I know you think you are, but you can never be too careful where you’re going.”
“So we know her name is Cami, but neither Pride nor Jenny knew if that was her real name or a work name. They also weren’t sure what her last name really was even though she told them it was Anderson.” Carrie was talking half to herself and halfway to Randy.
Having their desks facing each other with only a low partition between, left little privacy. But she might as well have been talking to herself because Randy seemed a million miles away.
Carrie looked up to see Randy’s face once again showing a revolving door of emotion. He was focused on something on his monitor which was turned away from her.
She got up and stood just watching him. The phone call with Sandy had been a tense one. Unfortunately, this had become commonplace lately. It seemed every time he talked to Sandy there was residual tension in the air.
Only four short months ago Randy had told both her and their Special Agent in C
harge John Bracket that Sandy had asked for a divorce. Carrie knew they were trying to work through things, but she couldn’t decide if things were getting better or worse.
“Is everything okay?” asked Carrie. Her voice was quiet, not sure if she should even ask. Sometimes he didn’t care and then sometimes he would explode all over the place.
“Yeah,” then rethinking his comment he said, “No, it isn’t.”
Carrie sat back down in her chair which put her eye to eye with him over the divider. “Want to talk about it?”
“Have I told you about this thing that Sandy has decided she wants to do? There is this lady she met at church who works with a program that helps rescue victims of human trafficking, and then keeps them in a safe house and works to get them home to their families or rehabilitates them back into society.”
Carrie shook her head. “No, I don’t think you ever mentioned that. It sounds like a great program.”
“Of course it is, but it’s dangerous. Just today we saw what happened to that poor girl. I don’t want Sandy putting herself into a situation where she could run cross-wise with someone dangerous. They do tend to take their property back by force. She could get hurt.”
Carrie sat and thought about what Randy had said. Yes, it was dangerous but she could see the great need. “Are the people who work in that program trained to defend themselves?”
“I have no idea.” The frustration was clear on Randy’s face.
“Have you asked her? Maybe if you knew more about the program and learned what they actually do, then you would feel better about it.”
“When I married Sandy she was so sweet and innocent. She wanted nothing more than to teach cute little kindergarteners. Things aren’t the same with her.”
“We all change Randy. We grow and learn. You aren’t the same,” Carrie gauged her words. “You love her, right? Then you want to give her emotional support to be the person she needs to be.”
“I know. I just wish who she wanted to be wasn’t someone who wanted to put her life on the line.”
“Like you?”
Randy just ducked his head and once again became engrossed in what was on his monitor.
“What has you so transfixed over there?” asked Carrie.
She got up and walked around the desks to see what he was looking at.
“This is the little I can find out about that program. Not much online and no details as to location, etc. There are task forces in place just for this type of thing. There are professionals to do this. Why does she need to get involved?”
“Rescuing them is only the first step in helping these people. Once law enforcement's role is over, others have to step in and help them get back on their feet.
“This program looks like it has many trained volunteers, but I’m sure that there are many needs that Sandy can fill which won’t put her in danger. I would think once they have been rescued and the perpetrators are in jail, there is nothing for Sandy to fear.”
“You know better than that. Just because someone is rescued doesn’t mean that everyone who was responsible was arrested and convicted. We see this constantly. I know you’re just trying to make me feel better.”
Randy was tired of talking about it. He knew Sandy would do what she wanted, regardless of what he said or how he felt. She would ask, they would fight, and then she would go off and do whatever.
He wasn’t sure what made him feel worse. The fact that she would disregard his wishes or that she was willfully putting herself in danger.
Gustavo Alejandro Hernandez stood in the shade of the towering oak tree in front of the run-down vacant house across the street from Pride’s. He'd gotten word earlier that the cops had been by and was suspicious that they would be waiting for his five p.m. pickup from the girls.
He felt nothing for that dirty Cami who had gotten what she deserved last night. He felt nothing but disdain for her, spitting on the ground as he thought of her.
This street and the surrounding ones were void of cops. He had taken his girlfriend's car and driven through the neighborhood for an hour prior to coming here.
Parking three blocks over, he had walked here through alleyways and backyards to spy on Pride’s house. Had there been grass underfoot, he would have trampled it bare by now with his pacing. He had Cami’s money in his pocket from last night but he still needed to get Jenny’s.
He grimaced and spat as he bit down on the bitter peanut he’d mindlessly tossed in his mouth. As he paced, he scattered the empty peanut hulls. Waiting like this caused him anxiety, so he shelled and ate peanuts while he waited.
He could delay and get her money another time, somewhere else. Walking to the shelter of the vacant house, he pulled out his phone and called Jenny.
“Hello,” Jenny’s timid voice came through the line.
“It’s Gus.”
“Hi Gus,” she replied.
“You got my money?”
“Yes.”
“Cops been there? They know I’m coming back at five?” asked Gus.
Jenny hesitated just long enough to confirm what Gus already suspected. “You bitch!” Gus bellowed.
“No Gus, I didn’t do anything,” Jenny was bawling into the phone.
“You told them I would be there at five. Don’t lie to me!” Gus was seething. But what did he expect from these dirty whores?
“First stop tonight I’ll be there and I’ll get my money,” Gus’ voice was sharper than a steel blade.
“Yes Gus. I’ll be at my first stop.”
The line went dead and Jenny felt sick again. She needed something to help her through this, but if she took something now, she might be late to her first stop.
Hovering just outside Jenny’s door, Pride had heard the phone, and she knew Jenny was aware she was out there. Her current girth made it impossible to travel across the old wood floors quietly.
The tapping on Jenny’s door confirmed that Pride was indeed out there. “Yes,” Jenny’s voice was weak, but not as weak as she felt. Curled up on the bed midst dirty wrinkled sheets she felt used up.
The creaking of Jenny’s door revealed Pride and her concerned look. “You okay, honey?” Memories of her life on the streets came thundering back painfully each time she looked at these young girls. But she was at a loss when it came to a solution to help them, really help them, out of this life.
Pride noticed a slight nod coming from the heap of a girl in the covers. She noticed how rail thin Jenny was.
“You using again Jenny?” Again, a slight nod.
A sigh escaped Pride’s mouth, and she lowered herself onto the edge of Jenny’s bed which threatened to topple in Pride’s direction. “Come here, girl.”
Pride motioned for Jenny to scoot her way so she could envelope her in her beefy arms. Lacking strength, Jenny only reached out to Pride and laid her hand on Pride’s knee.
“That was Gus on the phone, wasn’t it?” asked Pride.
Again, a slight nod was all Jenny could do.
Silence engulfed the room except for the drip of the faucet in the bathroom. Finally, Jenny garnered enough strength to pull herself up on one elbow, tucking her dingy pillow underneath herself.
“Pride I don’t want to live like this anymore. I’m afraid and I just want to die!” Jenny’s faded green eyes pleaded up at Pride and her heart shattered into a thousand tiny shards.
Pride had opened her home years ago to these girls to help in what small way she could, but she wasn’t a wealthy woman and she distrusted most people who said they wanted to help. In her experience, very few people wanted to help do anything for anyone without getting something in return.
So, she had tried to help them on her own, but there was little she could do. What life did she know other than this? Her government disability check barely kept her alive and only provided meager accommodations for a couple of girls.
Jenny needed real help. Help that Pride didn’t have. After Cami’s death she’d made a firm resolve to do whatever s
he could for Jenny.
Gathering strength from deep inside, Pride steeled herself to reach out beyond her comfort zone. She patted Jenny’s thin hand and kissed the top of her head while reassuring her it would be okay. She got up and ambled to the kitchen.
Terrified that her world was about to change, possibly for the worse, Pride opened her kitchen junk drawer and dug for an old flyer someone had passed to her one day years ago. She really didn’t know why she had kept it, but maybe somehow she had known this day was coming.
It was folded into quarters and the edges were worn and dirty from being shuffled around in the drawer for so long.
Pride had learned the hard way to never trust outsiders, so this was new territory for her. Would these people truly do what they said they would? Would they be able to make Jenny’s life better? Could they be trusted or would the cops come lock, not only Jenny up, but Pride too? Pride wondered.
The broken heart she’d carried since hearing of Cami’s death propelled her to pick up the phone for Jenny’s sake.
“Hello, this is Safe At Last. How may I help you?”
Chapter 4
The mornings were the worst. By the end of a long day, Carrie was too tired to care what she did, her resolve having worn thin. Justifications for why it was okay to drink were plentiful.
But with morning, came a fresh realization she once again did not do what she had set out to do, get sober and stay sober.
Moderation. Wasn’t moderation the key? She could do that couldn’t she? The true answer was no, she could not.
She lay on her back in the rumpled bed and stared at the ceiling. Each morning she had to face the fact that she had failed once again.
Last night she had come home from work with firm resolve. Then after thirty minutes on the sofa watching some silly sitcom, she had convinced herself she could go play one game of pool at Hudson’s. Just one game. She wouldn’t even have to drink at all.