Angie last spoke with Nadine by phone minutes before she inexplicably interfered with the mission. In the aftermath, Nadine was rushed off to the hospital, taken by ambulance and escorted by a cadre of FBI agents. Angie hadn’t had a moment to connect with her in person, but was told she was doing fine and in relatively good health.
It was important for Angie to see for herself. Peering into the room, she looked at Nadine sleeping peacefully. She wore a hospital gown and had an IV in her arm, probably to provide electrolytes for dehydration. She looked perfect, a perfect person. But beneath her flawless skin were wounds so deep they might never heal. What had happened to her down in that basement, Angie wondered. Why did she turn against the people who had come to her rescue? What twisted mind games did her traffickers play?
A lump formed in Angie’s throat. The intensity of her emotions took her by surprise. She had found hundreds of runaways, but something about Nadine was special.
This was more than a job. It was a calling. The mission was over for Angie, while Nadine’s road to recovery was just beginning. Angie couldn’t walk that path for her.
Angie felt utterly relieved and weirdly empty now that she had nothing more to do. She wasn’t Nadine’s caseworker from social services or a victim-witness coordinator from the FBI. She was a retrieval specialist. Her job was to track down runaway kids and take them home. Mission accomplished. Mission over.
When Nadine’s parents showed up, she would debrief them and then go home. Of course, she would be available for Nadine if she ever wanted to meet in person, if she wanted to shake hands with the woman who’d reunited her with an alcoholic mother and an absentee father. Some parts of Angie’s job were hard to swallow, but that was the gig. She wasn’t in the business of putting broken lives back together again.
Angie’s gaze lingered on the IV in Nadine’s arm. It was the second time she had set foot inside a hospital since her mother’s death and the reminders continued to be painful and sad. Time would lessen her grief, but would it heal Nadine?
Angie jumped when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She whirled and saw a handsome face smiling at her. It took a moment for recall to kick in.
Bryce Taggart wore jeans, a tan blazer, and a white dress shirt underneath. He looked extremely relaxed for someone who had just gotten into a gun battle inside a crawlspace. Among law enforcement, word of his actions had spread like a California brush fire.
“Is she sleeping?” He leaned his body against the doorframe and craned his neck to take a peek inside Nadine’s hospital room.
“Yes,” Angie said, backing away from the door. “Soundly, thanks to whatever sedative they gave her.”
Bryce extended his hand and introduced himself. “We met at the FBI briefing before the mission, but weren’t formally introduced. You did great work, Angie. Top notch.”
“Thanks, though word is you did pretty good yourself. I heard all about your exploits down under with Buggy.”
“Yeah, well, he’s where he belongs. Scratch that. He’s at the Baltimore Medical Center, but soon he’ll be where he belongs.”
“What are you doing here?” Angie asked.
“I’ve got to write my report and I needed Nadine’s statement. I can get it later.”
“She’s been through a lot. Take it easy on her, okay? She’s not going to face charges for what she did?”
Bryce shook his head. “The Feds are pretty good about viewing juveniles who are trafficked as victims. She’ll be fine. You got my word.”
“Glad to hear.”
“Say, there’s a little gathering down at McSorley’s to celebrate a job well done. Care to join?”
Angie didn’t have to think long. She was whole-body exhausted and eager to check on her dad. She was also eager to return to her routine, stop farming out jobs, and maybe, just maybe, help Bao crack the code on the back the photograph. She had a lot on her mind. Drinks with a rowdy crowd at McSorley’s didn’t fit into the picture. “No thanks,” she said, second-guessing her decision after a flash of his gleaming smile.
“How about I buy you a cup of coffee in the cafeteria?” he suggested.
That was an offer Angie couldn’t refuse.
The cafeteria, except for the seating area, was closed, but the hospital offered free coffee as a courtesy. Bryce drank his black. Angie made a green tea. She expected Bryce to make some comment, but it was Mike who would have said something, a yoga joke perhaps.
She had plenty of questions for Bryce, and he didn’t seem in any hurry to get to McSorley’s.
“Where are the other girls?”
“We took them to different hospitals for observation. Most checked out okay, I heard. A couple were being kept overnight, but I don’t know why.”
“What’s going to happen to them?”
“You mean after?”