“Yeah, you did do that.” I smiled. “Hey, Cooper, I need to get to sleep. I have to be up early. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Okay, sleep tight. Hey, send me the shots you got when you get time.”
“Okay, I can’t wait for you to see the soda can one. It’s just beach trash, but it looks really cool.”
“Awesome, I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Night, Cass.”
“Night, Beck.”
“Beck?”
“Shoot, I mean Cooper. I was reading and talking at the same time. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” My mouth formed a perfect O as in O shit! I couldn’t believe I had just called him Beck. Thank god we’d never discussed him before. That saved my ass.
***
I listened, really listened to my dad and Matt, debrief the Goldman case. Okay, I tried at least. My mind was on something else. Peanut butter and jelly of all things. Strawberry jelly. That’s what I was having for supper. I should have brought one for lunch. Matt always tried to starve me to death.
“Hey I have those photos for you if you want to stop by,” my father offered.
I smiled up at him, bumping into Matt when he stopped in front of me.
“Sorry, okay. I’ll stop by later tonight.” I don’t know why. I mean, I still wanted them. I just knew the ones I was most interested in would be missing now. Oh wait. I wasn’t interested in that anymore. Of course, I wanted the photos of my mother and me.
I would have rather sat on the railroad track bank than this. I hated sitting in Matt’s car. The smell of his coffee was a little overbearing that morning, or maybe it was the coffee mixed with his god-awful cologne.
“What are you doing? I have the air on,” he complained.
“Turn it off. You stink.”
“What’s with the attitude today?” Looking at me with constricted eyes, Matt rolled his window down, too. “You have a good time with you friend and your boyfriend at the beach?”
“I don’t have an attitude.”
Matt’s raised eyebrows and the sound of my own tone told me that I did. Why? Why was I so moody? I was never a sour person. I was too bubbly to be anything more than happy. Like my mom. “It was okay,” I said, reeling my attitude in a bit. My head hurt. I didn’t want to play detective anymore that day. I wasn’t what you would call extremely interested in all it. I mean, I was, I hated the thought of young girls actually being exploited like this, I just didn’t feel like sitting in a car with Matt all day.
“Why are we even here, Matt? Isn’t this like an FBI case or something?”
“It should be, yeah. If somebody would listen.”
“What do you mean?”
“For one, Mr. Goldman is well-known. He does a lot for the community, and he’s married to Olivia Goldman. You know who that is, right?”
“Olivia Goldman, the judge?”
“Yeah, her. Nobody would listen. We have to make a case first. I’m sure this guy is buying these girls and pimping them out.”
“What do you mean, buying them? How can you buy a girl?” I didn’t get it. Who would do that, and where the hell would they get them? You couldn’t just go out and sell humans.
I knew that look. Matt was hiding something else. He diverted his eyes and breathed a long sigh.
“What, Matt?”
“Nothing, Cassie. This is why you shouldn’t be out here. You don’t need to be exposed to this kind of shit, and I would like to shove a wake-up call up your dad’s ass.”
“Okay…”
“Why don’t you go take pictures of stuff?”
“Why shouldn’t I be out here? What do you mean by that? And I can’t. Someone stole my camera.”
“How? Where was it?”
I wasn’t answering that. I already knew it was my fault. “You’re not telling me something, Matt. What is it?” I asked, using the same restricted eyes that he had.
“There’s nothing to tell. How’s your boyfriend?”
“I already told you. He’s not my boyfriend. Not really, not like—b, b, boyfriends should be,” I stammered, trying not to say his name—again. Geesh. What the hell was wrong with me? I needed to find one of those hypnotists.
“You’re not still talking to him, are you?” Same restricted eyes. I could do that, too.
“Who?” I feigned ignorance with the copycatted glare.
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?”
“Stop making fun of me. Are you still seeing Poly boy?”
“Stop freaking calling him that. You know nothing about him. Nothing. He’s not like the stuff you see on television. He doesn’t plan on even getting any more wives. And he’s very good to his girls.”
“Sure he is,” Matt accused over the ridge of his stupid coffee cup. He was so condescending without reason. He had no reason to hate on Becker like he did. OMG I needed to get the hell out of his car.
“What do you know, macho man? What makes you so superior to everyone? How is the way he lives any of your business at all. Better question. How is who the hell I choose to date any of your business?”
“Damn, girl. You eat breakfast this morning? You’re awful edgy today. Want me to get you some food?”
Breathing in a very long, exasperated breath, I lightly shook my head. I didn’t know myself why I was so agitated with Matt. I was so sick of him sticking his nose in my business.
“I asked about the new guy, not Becker Cole. You don’t know him, Cass. You only know what he let you know.”
That caused a neck jerk. “What do you mean?” I thought Matt was so insistent on me staying away because of, well, like a big brother type thing. Like he was concerned. Now I thought he knew something I didn’t know. Studying Matt with a frown, I waited.
He took a deep breath all while staring at me with what to do eyes. I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but he was holding back, like he was afraid to tell me something.
“Do you know why Becker Cole is even in Philly? Didn’t you ever question why he would come all the way to Pennsylvania from Utah? Think about it, Cass. He didn’t just come here to build a resort to hoard his women. Not all of them get the privilege of living with him.”
“What do you mean?” I asked with the same look, sounding like a broken record.
And there was the long sigh from Matt again.
“Just spit it out, Matt.”
“Becker Cole is involved in all of this.”
“In all of what?” I didn’t understand what he was saying.
“He’s brought girls here. Girls that have been sold to Mr. Goldman.”
I laughed. I had to. Becker would never be involved in something like this. I would bet my life on it. “Yeah, okay. Now you’re just making shit up. You don’t have to. I’m not seeing Becker, I don’t talk to Becker, and I don’t plan on it.” Geesh. For real?
“But you don’t like this Cooper guy. I mean, like you do Becker. I can tell.”
“Why do you give a shit about who I like?”
“I want you to be happy.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? I’ve always wanted you to be happy.”
“No you haven’t. You were always mean to me.”
“You think I was mean to you?”
“Yeah, you were. Ever since my dad hired you when I was twelve. I tried to talk to you lots of times. You wouldn’t give me the time of day,” I reminded him. Matt never cared about my wellbeing.
“I had to stay away from you. It was in the agreement I made with—”
“With who?” I questioned when he stopped talking.
“Hang on, Small Fry.”
“Hang on for what?” I questioned. I didn’t want to hang on. What did he mean by he agreed to stay away from me?
“Shhh,” Matt said, hushing me. I turned my attention to the SUV pulling to the curb.
“What is this?” I asked, diverting my attention from one mystery to another. Two young girls were being taken into the office building. The driver opened t
he door for them, and looked around, searching for anyone watching. We were far enough away to not be noticed.
One of the girls stopped and turned to a man getting out with them. She was frightened. It was written all over her face. The tall man held her arms and stroked her hair in a loving way. I was sure he was giving her some sort of pep talk when she nodded and he wiped away a tear. The other girl stood there, wringing her own hands, afraid of her destination.
“Matt, what are they doing?”
“I told you what was going on.”
“But they’re so young. Those girls can’t be older than fourteen or so.”
“How many sisters does Becker have?”
“What?” I asked, confused. What did that have to do with anything?
“Did you ever talk to him about his family?”
“Some, but not a lot. He has twenty-seven brothers and sisters, but I’m not sure how many were brothers and how many were sisters. Why?”
“Because Becker’s sisters are being sold here.”
“No they’re not. That’s absurd. Becker wouldn’t allow this. He wouldn’t,” I assured Matt. He was wrong about this. “I should call him. I’m sure he has no idea what is going on here. Are you sure, Matt? Who is the man?” I knew I was rattling, but I couldn’t help it. I felt like a ton of false information was being forced into my brain. It wasn’t true. There had to be an explanation.
As if it wasn’t bad enough that I was even there, Matt wouldn’t tell me everything. I knew he wasn’t telling me everything. Every time I asked questions, he shushed me.
“What are they doing in there?” I asked, wondering why the girls were still inside.
“I don’t know. I’m guessing they’re being studied. Be quiet.”
“Why? Why do I have to be quiet? Nobody can hear me. What do you mean, studied?”
Reluctantly, Matt answered with a heavy breath inward. “I sat here all day a couple weeks ago when your dad told me he was giving you this case. One of the girls that just went in was here then, too, only she looked different.”
“What do you mean, she looked different?”
“She was more conservative then. She didn’t look like that. My guess is she was turned down and sent away for a makeover. She actually looks about ten pounds lighter, too.”
I stared at the office building with Matt, perplexed, feeling sick, and wondering what was going on in there. Becker knew about this. Becker was letting this happen. My respect for him and the way he helped the girls to become better people just went up in smoke. How could he? He was living with three women that he helped, and yet his own flesh and blood was right inside that building, being sold for sex.
Sitting there for over an hour, watching and waiting for some sort of movement, the guy finally came out. Only one of the girls was with him, the same one that had been turned down before. The guy jerked her arm, shoving her in front of him. She was crying and his sympathy was nonexistent. Jerking her to look at him, he screamed something in her face and shoved her to the back seat.
We pulled out two cars behind them when the man slid into the passenger seat.
“Matt, who’s the man?”
“That’s Becker Cole’s father.”
“For real?” Yup, I was going to be sick. Her own father was not only selling off his daughters, he was mad because one of them wasn’t good enough.
Sitting at the airport, we watched Mr. Cole and his ugly daughter being dropped off, only she wasn’t ugly at all, not to me anyway. He was still being mean with her, shoving her in front of him. I wanted to get out and beat the hell out of him with my fist, smash his face in, and kick him in the groin, over and over again.
“Where they going, Matt?” I asked, feeling horrible for the girl, hoping he didn’t hurt her.
“Back to Utah, I presume.”
“Can’t you call the police in Utah? Can’t they help the girl?”
“Maybe, but Goldman is the one that needs stopped. This guy isn’t the only one delivering girls.”
“He’s not?”
“No.”
“We need to get the feds involved in this. This is bigger than us.”
“We will, just as soon as we have more evidence. You have to remember who he is, not to mention who he is married to.”
“You think she knows?”
“Nah, I don’t think she’s in on it at all. I think she’s married to a snake in a cute little bunny cover-up. You should have seen him Saturday night at the ribbon cutting for that new girls’ school over on Lang. Sickening. He’s cutting a ribbon for a club for underprivileged girls, and selling them off in his office.”
“Where’s the girl that he left? We should have stayed there, followed them, not her,” I argued, worried about the girl left behind, where she would go, and what would be expected of her.
“I already know where she is. She is being held at the Begonia Rain Hotel. She’ll get on a plane in a day or two as well. There’s a gentlemen’s club in Texas where she’ll be transported to work. I haven’t been there yet, but what little I can find out has me believing men go there for entertainment.”
“How do you know all of this? We have to stop her. We can’t let her go there. Becker doesn’t know, Matt. He doesn’t. He wouldn’t let this happen. I have to call him.”
“NO!” Matt yelled, pulling back out into traffic. “You stay away from him. I don’t want him tipping anyone off. Stay away! You understand?”
Chapter 28
The more I thought about it, the less my enthusiasm about calling Becker became a bad idea. What if Matt was right? What if he tipped him off and the so called father got away with it? I cleaned my house, avoided the Home Shopping Network, and called Justine, needing something to occupy my mind. She was busy with Hunter. She was always busy with Hunter. Wishing I felt the same about Cooper, I made myself call him. I shouldn’t have to force myself to call my new love interest. Even I knew that.
“Hey, I was just going to call you. How was your day?” See…I had no reason to not be all over this guy. Cooper was smart, funny, talented, and he genuinely cared about me. I wanted to tell him everything, but refrained. I knew I couldn’t talk about it with him, Matt would kill me.
“It was okay. How was your day?” I asked instead.
“Eh, classes and homework, that’s about it. You want to go explore some abandoned place this weekend, just you and me? I could tell you weren’t quite into the whole drinking and partying. That’s okay, I’d rather it just be you and me anyway.”
I smiled, wishing I could be more in tuned with Cooper. I just didn’t feel it. How was I supposed to force something that wasn’t there? Keep trying, that’s how.
“Sure. That sounds like fun. You want me to look for something this way or more your way?”
“That way. I’ll come home and stay at your place for the weekend.”
Um… I didn’t really want that, either. “Okay, I’ll call you when I find something.”
“Sounds great. I’m going to study for a bit and I’ll call you back later to say goodnight.”
“Okay, bye.”
Running my fingers through my hair, I moaned. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Those poor girls. Both of them. One being taken back home, too ugly to entertain, and one being taken somewhere to entertain who knew how many men. Which one was the lucky one? Deciding to dial the house phone, I figured I would hang up if Becker answered. Matt didn’t say I couldn’t talk to one of the girls. He only said Becker. Maybe one of them knew something.
“Hello,” Becker answered on the first ring. Damnit. “Hello?”
God, I wanted to answer. Hearing his voice sent chills up my spine. Of course, I didn’t. I hung up.
“Snowball, this sucks. This really, really, sucks,” I chanted, rubbing the black fur under his neck. I froze, holding my phone when it rang right back. Shit. Staring at the name “Becker – Home,” I waited with a halted breath and then hurriedly dialed the voicemail.
“Hey, y
ou really do suck at this PI stuff. You should teach kindergarten or something. Next time you don’t want to me to know it’s you, block your number. Call me back. I miss you.”
Smiling at the sound of his voice, I wished it was that easy. I did want to call him back. I wanted to know if he knew about his sisters being sold into this mess by his own father, and if he did, how he could let it happen. I, of course, didn’t call him back. Instead, I watched QVC, wanting desperately to order a new camera. I didn’t. I had exactly seven hundred dollars in my bank account, seven hundred bucks between me and poverty. I wasn’t doing it. I would wait until I could pay cash. I did order a Shelly Mae bracelet for Justine’s birthday. I justified that one even though I probably paid too much for it.
Soaking in the hot tub of water and staring at Snowball, who followed me in and plopped on the black and white fuzzy rug the girls picked out, was when it hit me. The realization of a terrifying truth. I hadn’t seen Becker in almost six weeks. Why hadn’t I had my period? No way. That couldn’t happen, not now. I was never late. Snowball darted from the bathroom when I jumped up. Dripping water all over the tile, I walked back and forth, frantically. No. No. No. No. I wasn’t pregnant. Was this really a baby bump? Did I always have this little pouch? I pondered, placing my hand over my stomach. No. I mean, yes. I was always fat there. Oh lord. Oh God. Oh man. Oh hell. FUCK!
Dressing in a pair of knee sweats and a T-shirt, I slid my feet in my new flip-flops—the ones I got for the beach house with Cooper. He bought them for me. Thinking about nothing, my nerves danced on end while I made my way to CVS. I didn’t even remember walking inside or standing directly in front of the shelf full of tests. Which one did I buy? Why were there so many of them?
“One of these would do the trick.” The older lady smiled, ringing up one of my five tests.
“Oh, they’re not for me,” I lied, diverting my eyes to a magazine, pretending to be interested in Prince George. He was a cute baby. BABY! No! This couldn't be happening. It was something else. I wasn’t pregnant. I couldn’t be pregnant. I couldn’t even remember to feed my cat. Nodding to the lady, I took my ghostly white face and my five pregnancy tests and left, again, not remembering the ride back to my house.