Stolen Daughters (Detective Amanda Steele)

“Only one way to know.”

“The tox run.”

He nodded. “Now, I must tell you, in addition to the internal injuries, she has some bruising on her body, in various stages of healing. And there’s more…”

“Still more?” It was hard for Amanda to imagine that was possible. She looked down at Doe’s face again, and her heart pinched. Her lifeless eyes really stamped home the finality of the situation. This young woman would have had dreams and aspirations she’d never get to fulfill.

Rideout slowly peeled back the sheet, and Amanda watched as he bared Doe’s chest. She gasped as her gaze landed on a black-and-white tattoo just above the girl’s left breast. It was about three inches in diameter. The depiction of a crown entwined in thorny vines with the letters DC scrolled over them.

“She was a…” She gripped her throat, where the rest of her sentence had become lodged.

The images were hurtling back with fierce tenacity. Fifteen young girls in four cells. All barely dressed and living in filth and violation. Their young, angelic faces, their tearstained cheeks, their wide eyes, their terrified expressions—and most of them with this marking.

“Amanda?”

She heard her name as if it were being said from across the room at a whisper. Then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She shrugged it off and stepped back.

Trent was watching her with wide eyes. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…”

Her heart was hammering, and her palms were clammy. She put her attention back on the girl and stiffened her posture, trying to find the strength inside to face the undeniable truth. “She was a victim of sex trafficking before she was a murder victim.”

Twelve

“They brand them like cattle,” Amanda said through clenched teeth, as she loaded into the department car with Trent. Her new friend, Patty Glover, from Sex Crimes had told her that. But it was only part of what had her popping antiacids for weeks after rescuing those girls. She couldn’t get their flesh-and-blood faces out of her head, or the illicit images she’d seen of young victims in a database created by the sex-trafficking ring that she’d uncovered. Though it was more catalog than database. The girls were inventoried like merchandise. There was also a spreadsheet of buyers and payment confirmations, which Amanda knew Patty was still working through. Patty had explained that sex trafficking could take various forms. Some girls were sold directly to an end user, and others were pimped out as prostitutes.

“Do you think one of the people in the ring killed her?” Trent asked as he started the car.

“I don’t know.” She felt numb, an old, familiar feeling. The way she’d mostly gone through life since the loss of her family. “Maybe she ran away, and they caught up with her… But why strangulation? Why not a gunshot? And why the fire?”

“The fire could have been to hide evidence and destroy the body.”

She looked over at him, not really wanting to verbalize what she was thinking. If they found the girl, they’d just recapture her and force her compliance. All the bone breaks and fractures, the bruising, testified to the fact they took no issue with physical coercion. And to kill her on such a stage risked drawing attention to the ring.

It was more likely that Jane Doe had been sold to some psychopath who liked to strangle young girls and set their bodies on fire. She pulled out her phone and called Patty Glover on speaker.

She picked up before the second ring finished. “Detective Glover.”

“Patty? It’s Amanda.” There was no need for formality.

“Oh, hi there. How are you?”

“Not good. I’m here with my partner, Trent.”

“Hi, Trent.”

“Hi.”

Pleasantries out of the way, Amanda said, “There was a house fire in Dumfries, a young woman inside…” She was trying to build herself up to handle this conversation.

“I read about it online.”

“She was branded, Patty. With the tattoo we saw a few months ago. The crown and the letters DC.”

Patty’s end of the line fell silent.

“Tell me we’ve gotten somewhere with tracking more people in this organization.”

“I wish that I could…” Patty sighed loudly. “Unfortunately, we’re still working on running down bank transfers.”