“Sorry, I can’t help,” Eva shook her head, “even if I wanted to, I couldn’t help you, and honestly, what’s the point? So you can force your runaway sister back home only to have her end up back here within a year? Because that’s what happens,” She rasped, shutting the door.
Thinking fast (or not thinking at all), I wedged my foot in the door. She looked up at me, as If she were seeing me for the first time. She was angry, her brown eyes flashing.
“Honey get your fucking foot out of my door before I-”
“She wasn’t a runaway, Eva,” I cut in, my voice soft, “She was six when she was abducted ten years ago outside her home. For ten years, my boyfriend has thought his sister was dead. Raped. Murdered. Now he finds out she’s alive, but in trouble, and you’re ‘sorry’ you can’t help us?” I laughed incredulously, “Sorry, Eva, that’s not good enough.” I crossed my arms and held her gaze.
Eva hesitated. “What do you want from me?” She demanded. Angry. Frustrated.
“We just want a few minutes of your time. To talk. To see if you can help us. If not, then fine, we’ll be on our way,” I reasoned. Dane looked at me in admiration. When his hand touched my back, I knew he was proud of me. Hell, I was proud of me.
“You going to have to move your foot for me to let you in, honey,” Eva said, sarcasm dripping off her words.
I hesitated for a second, before pulling my foot back. The door slammed shut. I glanced at Dane. He shrugged. Neither of us knowing if she was going to open the door again. The door opened, Eva nodded at us.
“Come in, then,” she said.
We walked inside. She locked the door behind us and let us into the kitchen. I had to admit, I was shocked. Eva’s home was spotless. Everything in the place was meticulously clean, and neat. Everything had a place. While the furniture was by no means new, it was nice. The place looked homely.
“Not what you expected, right?” Eva smiled. Though it was so obviously her from the mug shot photo, she looked different. She looked clean, and aware.
A baby’s cry filled the room. “Have a seat, I will just be a second.” She rushed out of the room, leaving Dane and I alone.
“Wow,” I murmured under my breath. Dane nodded, raising his eyebrows as he looked around. Eva came back in the room, carrying a little girl. Her tiny face lit up when she saw Dane, who laughed. I got the feeling he liked the little girl’s fascination with him.
“She’s adorable,” I smiled.
“She’s my whole world,” Eva smiled, gently rocking the little girl on her knee, “Her name is Anabel. She’s almost two.” Anabel laughed, her little eyes fascinated by Dane’s smile.
“Such a pretty name,” I smiled.
“So, how can I help? What do you want to know?” The happiness evaporated from Eva’s expression. She looked wary and defensive. I could tell right away her guard was up, and chances of getting anywhere with her were pretty slim.
“Eva, my sister, Steffy, we think she might have been caught up in something. She was abducted when she was six. From our home. They caught the guy, or at least as far as the police were concerned he was the guy…” Dane looked down, fiddling with his fingers as he fought to find the right words.
“The man they caught, he confessed,” I rushed to help Dane, who was visibly upset, “but before they could find out from him where she was, he died.”
“What, you think I know where her body is?” Eva’s eyes widened as she shook her head, “look I may have been into some shady shit in my day, but murdering kids wasn’t one of them.”
“We don’t think you were involved,” I said quickly, trying to get control of the situation, “we just think maybe she was somehow involved in something you were…” My voice trailed off, along with any hope that she would help us. I struggled to think of something to say to fill the awkward silence hovering over us.
“A few years ago, I was involved in some prostitution,” Eva coughed, holding Anabel close to her, almost like a security blanket. Dane looked up. I could see the hope in his eyes.
God, please don’t let this lead to a dead end.
“I was working for...someone. Never actually met him, only his minions. I was living with six other girls who were also his,” she paused, her voice shaky, “they were his in every sense of the word. He owned them. Me, I was just caught up, trying to work off a drug debt.”
“He owned them?” I repeated, shocked. “Were they…Americans?” I asked cautiously.
Eva shot me a look. “You mean were they illegals?” She asked in her strong Mexican accent. I blushed. That had been exactly what I had meant, only I hadn’t wanted to offend her. “Most were Mexicans or Bolivians. He heard he had a few Americans, young girls. He would get more for them. It was one thing to sleep with an underage illegal, but a blue eyed blonde American? They were worth gold,” she laughed bitterly.
“You said young girls. How young are you talking?” I asked softly, positive I didn’t want to hear the answer. Dane sat next to me, his hands covering his face.
“Young. You don’t want me to say. Really,” her eyes were begging me, as they flickered between Dane and me. I felt sick, physically sick, like I was going to hurl.
“Eva, this guy, do you know his name?” I asked. Eva stood up.
“I can do better than a name. Will you take her?” She handed me Anabel before I could answer. I cradled her in my arms, her little face peering up at me curiously. My heart melted. She was so cute. I felt something I’d never felt before.