She leans over my shoulder. “No. Not at all.”
“I’d be surprised if he did. I need to look more closely at what Conrad Investments Inc. does. I have a feeling it’s a shell corporation and we’re going to have to dig a lot deeper to find out who really used that house. Cora”—I turn to my sister—“we need to interview Emmaline and this Chad guy at Conrad. First thing tomorrow.”
“I’ll get right on it. I think it would be best if Mr. Nash tackled Emmaline. She’s going to need the lighter touch of someone with more experience than me. I can take Nolan with me to talk to the guy at Conrad. Chances are this guy is just a pencil pusher and has no idea what went on in that house. I think I know just the angle to take with him.” Cora puts her hand on mine over the mouse. “It’s late. Why don’t the two of you take off, get something to eat? You can work on this some more tomorrow.”
I start to argue, but Cora gestures with her head toward Vera, who is studying the map as though it’s a viper preparing to strike. I know a little bit about the memories that pin represents. The deeper we get into this, the more Vera’s had to share her past, and it’s starting to take its toll on her.
“Yeah. Okay. I didn’t realize how late it was. Why don’t we walk you to your car?”
Cora gathers her stuff while I save my searches and make a couple notes for tomorrow. All the while Vera is quiet, keeping herself separate.
Cora lays her hand on Vera’s arm. “I’ll only tell the guys the necessary information to get the job done. What’s been said in this room stays in this room.”
“Thank you.”
We all walk out to the parking lot. I make sure Cora gets in her car safely and watch as she drives off. It’s the first time I make the assumption I’m going with Vera to her motel room. Does that make this a relationship? What does that make us? She doesn’t comment as we climb into her car and she pulls out of the parking lot. Instead of turning left, she turns right. The last time she took me someplace unexpected was to Cassandra’s grave. I wonder what she has in mind this time.
We drive for a while and then it hits me that we’re in the area on the map where all the pins are. I force myself to stare straight ahead and not have any reaction. I know where she’s taking me. What I don’t know is why. This is her trip, her point to make. I’m just going to have to ride it out with her and see where it takes us. She’s quiet during the drive, but I know her mind isn’t. I can practically hear the words scrambling in her brain. My pulse kicks up in response to hers as we turn onto Plymouth Drive. She makes a U-turn and parks across the street from the house where she was held captive.
I can’t see her face, only a portion of her profile. Glancing past her, I stare at the house where her nightmare ended. It’s ordinary, like the others on the street. A dog barks. A dad plays catch with his daughter on their front lawn. A teenager washes his car in the driveway. A runner jogs by. Among all this normalcy, a monster sold girls into sexual slavery. Didn’t anyone wonder about the cars that came and went? How only men entered and exited the house? Didn’t they notice anything? All it would’ve taken was one person, one nosy neighbor, to save those girls, to save Vera.
My mouth fills with the bitter taste of frustration and anger; my whole body vibrates with it. I can only imagine what Vera’s feeling. How many times did she hope to be rescued before she gave up? What did it take for her to finally free herself? How was she able to do it and the others weren’t? Where did she go? The questions keep piling up, but I don’t voice them. She brought me here for a reason, and it wasn’t to cure my curiosity.
“My room was upstairs. The window on the right,” she says, pointing at the house. “It was boarded up with curtains over top so the men wouldn’t notice. Sometimes it was hard to tell when it was night and when it was day. They made two rooms out of one to house more of us. I don’t know who was in the other half. We never saw each other.