The Chain of Lies

CHAPTER 8



Saturday rolled around and it was time for Emily to fulfill her promise to Camille. She and Molly filled in as servers at the Zigon Corporation’s Gala at the Hilton Hotel. After hours on her feet, Emily was ready for the evening to be over.

Once most of the guests had left, she and Molly headed to the ladies room to freshen up. As they entered the restroom, they heard the sound of someone weeping in one of the three stalls. They glanced suspiciously at each other. Before either could utter a word, a beautiful young Asian woman in a sexy, short black dress and strappy high-heeled shoes opened the door to one of the stalls. She stepped out, carefully dabbing her eyes with a piece of toilet paper, as if she was trying not to ruin her considerable eye makeup.

“Are you okay?” Emily stepped close and asked her in a calm, sympathetic tone.

Her eyes were lowered and she seemed reluctant to meet Emily’s gaze. Before the young woman could respond, another Asian woman, this one middle-aged and wearing a khaki pantsuit and an angry expression, shouted something curt to the younger female in their native language. The young lady nodded her head, as if she was agreeing to the woman’s harsh words. The older woman grabbed the girl by the arm and practically dragged her out of the bathroom, continuing the tongue-lashing.

“What on earth was that about?” a wide-eyed Molly questioned.

“I have no idea.” Emily shrugged.

“Looks like that girl was in trouble with her mother.”

“Could be,” Emily muttered, looking toward the door before turning to the sink to wash her hands. “I remember one time my mom caught me dressed like that. I had snuck out on a date with an older boy that my folks didn’t approve of.” Emily grabbed a couple of paper towels and dried her hands. “My mom marched right out onto the dance floor and grabbed me by the arm. Then she dragged me out to the car. She and my dad grounded me for a month.”

“How old were you?” Molly asked.

“Fifteen.”

“Well, that girl was a lot older than that,” Molly commented. “She looked at least eighteen or nineteen to me.”

“I don’t think so. She was wobbling on those heels like she wasn’t used to wearing them. And that sexy dress and all that make up could make any teenage girl look older.”

“I’d hate to be the guy she was with if my mom had caught me doing that.”

“You’re right,” Emily laughed. “Camille would rip him a new one, not to mention what your dad would do to him.”

~*~

A few days later, Molly phoned Emily and asked if she’d go shopping with her. Camille’s birthday was coming up and Molly wanted help to find a gift for her mom.

“Why don’t I pick you up tomorrow after you get home from school, say four o’clock, and we’ll head for the mall,” Emily suggested. “We can get something to eat at the food court—my treat.”

“Sounds cool. See you at four.”

As promised, Emily stopped by to collect Molly for their shopping date. Rather than Emily driving, Molly insisted they take her new car. Her dad had just bought her a small, economical late-model compact to drive to school. She no longer had to take the bus for her senior year, and she was happy to show it off.

“Okay, okay. Let’s take your car.” Emily gave in, remembering what it had been like to be seventeen and the thrill of freedom she experienced at having her own vehicle.

As they drove through the neighborhood, an older silver Mercedes began backing down its driveway and into the street.

“Watch out for the car backing out,” Emily warned, instinctively putting her hand out.

“Don’t worry, I see it.” Molly slowed down, almost to a stop, and the other car drove past them in the opposite direction.

“Did you see that?” Molly snapped.

“See what?” Emily looked around.

“The car that backed out.”

“It was a family in it, wasn’t it?”

“I mean the girl in the backseat. Did you see the girl in the backseat? The one closest to the window—she had these sad, dark eyes.” Molly’s words came with growing intensity. “I think I know her.”

“I’m not surprised, she’s your neighbor.”

“No, Emily, I think it was the girl from the restroom at the hotel—the one that was crying.”

“Are you sure?” Emily twisted in her seat and looked for the car, but it was too far away, so she turned back forward. “She probably goes to your school, don’t you think?”

“I haven’t seen her there, but I’m sure she’s the girl from the hotel. Oh, Em, she looked so sad.”

“Maybe her parents grounded her for life because of her little stunt. I’d be sad, too.”

“Or worse. What if they beat her?”

“There’s no reason to think that, Molly.”

“What if they’re not her parents? What if they kidnapped her and are holding her against her will?”

“Where are you getting those outlandish thoughts? You’re letting your imagination run wild.”

Molly peered in her rearview mirror. “I guess you’re right.”

“I can’t imagine why you would even think such crazy things, Mol.”

“Probably because of the assembly today.”

“What assembly?”

“We had an assembly at school with a special speaker from the A-twenty-one Project. She spoke on human trafficking and how it’s everywhere now. Some of the things that lady said were pretty shocking. I guess it’s still on my mind and it made me wonder about that girl.”

“Oh, that’s what this is about. I think that sort of thing mostly happens in big cities, not in quiet small towns like Paradise Valley.”

“Not according to the speaker today.”

“Really? I’m surprised to hear that.”

“Did you see there were three girls in the backseat?” Molly looked over at Emily as they came to a stop sign.

“No, sorry, I didn’t. You had a better vantage point than I did.”

“Like you said, it’s probably nothing.”

“Yeah. They’re probably just her sisters.”

~*~

A few days later, Emily dropped by Camille’s for a short visit, wondering if Molly had mentioned the Asian girls to her. Camille said she did mention them, but she tried to tell her daughter that Emily was likely right, it was just parents trying to raise teenage daughters who wanted to be with boys their parents didn’t approve of. Molly seemed to accept it, Camille said.

“Can you imagine anyone thinking we have sex slaves here in Paradise Valley?” Camille shook her head and sipped her iced tea.

“It does sound pretty far-fetched.” Emily ripped open a packet of sweetener and stirred it into her tea.

“What sounds far-fetched?” Peter asked as he entered the kitchen.

“Oh, hello, Peter.” Emily smiled to hide the rush of warmth she felt, a little surprised by his presence.

“Emily and I were talking about the possibility of human trafficking in our area.” Camille took another sip of tea. “The idea of sex slaves in Paradise Valley, I think it’s highly unlikely.”

“After the investigative reporting I did back east, I believe it could be anywhere.” Peter pulled out a chair and sank down onto it. “I think most people would be surprised to learn it might be in their own backyards.”

“Oh, pish-posh.” Camille eyed her brother.

Emily giggled at Camille’s odd reply.

Peter rolled his eyes. “Our mom used to say that when she thought something was a bunch of bologna.”

“That’s right,” Camille agreed, wagging her spoon at her brother, “a bunch of bologna.”

Emily pushed her chair out and stood to leave. “I’d better get going. I have some errands to run. Thanks for the tea, Cam.”

“Was it something I said?” Peter grinned. “I didn’t mean to chase you off.”

“No, really, I have to be going.”

“Don’t forget, Saturday is the season opener for Boise State football. Everyone’s invited over to watch the game here,” Camille said. “I have some amazing food planned—pulled pork, nachos supreme, chicken and bacon sliders, hot parmesan artichoke dip.”

“I’m getting hungry just hearing about it.” Peter’s eyes lit up as he commented.

“What can I bring?” Emily offered.

“Don’t worry about it.” Camille waved her freshly manicured hand as she stood up. “It’s all taken care of.”

“I know I’m not the cook you are, Cam, but I can certainly stop by the store and pick something up.”

“Why don’t you bring drinks, then?” Camille relented.

Emily smiled and gave Camille a light hug. “See you both later.” She turned to leave but stopped and spun back around. “I almost forgot to tell you, I’ll be bringing Colin, too.”

“Colin? That’s wonderful, Em.” Camille rushed at her and gave her a hard squeeze. “I knew he’d eventually come back, but you never said a word.”

Camille released her firm hold on Emily and she caught her breath. “Until I knew for certain, I didn’t want to say anything. You’d all be asking me about it, driving me crazy.”

“So I finally get to meet this mystery man who holds your heart.” Peter looked into Emily’s eyes, locking on her gaze.

Was that envy she saw? “Yes, you’ll finally get to meet him. I think you guys will hit it off.” She hoped they would, anyway.

“I look forward to it.” He slowly broke his gaze from her and turned his attention to his sister. “Is Maggie coming, by chance?”

“Why yes, I believe she is.” Camille glanced at Emily and raised her eyebrows as if to say Is he interested in her?

Emily hoped so. She remembered her conversation with Isabel about this very thing. The best way to get over one love is to find another, they had agreed.

~*~

As Emily pulled away from Camille’s house, it was about four o’clock in the afternoon. She encountered the same older Mercedes backing out of the driveway and slowed for it. Hoping to be inconspicuous, she casually glanced over at the car to check out its occupants, trying not to stare. A stocky Asian gentleman was behind the wheel, and the older woman from the hotel ladies room was in the front seat.

As they pulled by Emily, she glanced in the backseat and saw the girl from the restroom seated behind the driver, with two other young women in the back. The girl was staring back at her with hauntingly sad eyes—just as Molly had described her.

After her recent conversations with Molly and then with Peter, her interest was piqued about this family. She decided she would follow the car and see where it was headed. She turned around in a neighbor’s driveway and followed the sedan at a safe distance.

The car headed out of Paradise Valley, toward Boise, about fifteen minutes away. Emily watched as the car pulled into a driveway on Overland Road and parked on the side of the small, single-story building.

It was one of a row of small older homes that had been converted into businesses. Emily pulled her car to the curb, across the street from the enterprise, to watch. The man opened the car door and the three girls climbed out of the backseat and went into the rear of the building with the woman.

This location felt familiar to Emily. She shielded the sun from her eyes as it glinted off the marquis sign—it was the Jade Thai Spa.

That’s it! She realized this place was familiar because she had followed a client’s husband to this establishment late one night. It promoted itself as a massage parlor, but the husband, when confronted by his wife and the credit card bills, admitted he went there for sex. Thinking of the young girls she just observed being escorted inside, Emily’s stomach lurched.

She recalled that Isabel had confided in her that the Feds might be watching the place. Emily decided she’d do a little reconnaissance of her own. She dashed across the busy street and tried to open the front door but found it locked. Knocking casually on the door, she hoped one of the girls would open it and she could get a better look around.

No one came. She knocked harder. Still no answer. She slinked to the window to try to get a peek inside, but the blinds were drawn shut. There was a sliver of a gap between the blinds and the window frame where she could see movement, noticing a woman pass by the window.

Emily stepped back and went to the door again. She raised her fist to knock once more, but the door opened a bit and the older woman stuck her head out.

“Not open yet,” she snapped with a heavy Asian accent.

“When will you be open?” Emily tried to ask as sweetly as she could.

“Open one hour. What you want?”

“You do massages, right?”

“Yeah.” The woman sounded suspicious of Emily.

“I’d like to buy a gift certificate for a one-hour massage. I have this friend—”

Emily stuck her foot in the door and tried to get a peek beyond the woman, but she would only open the door wide enough to poke her head out.

“We no do gift certificates,” the woman cut her off, then pushed Emily’s shoe back with her own and shut the door.

Emily walked away and sprinted across the street, back to her car. That’s no way to treat a potential customer, unless their primary income stream is not massages. Was there some secret knock I should have used? The mystery surrounding the girl from the hotel was growing more suspicious by the minute.