I exchange a look with Vinnie.“Did anyone hurt you?”
She shakes her head.“No.They didn’t touch me.I promise.”
“They?”I ask.
Belinda frowns, thinking.“Two men.One of them had dark hair, and he kept calling the other one ‘Chef.’The second one… He talked funny.”
My gut goes cold.“Did one of them look like this?”
I pull up Reyes’s photo on my phone and hold it out.She hesitates for half a second but then nods.“That’s him.The one who called the other one ‘Chef.’”
“Reyes,” I mutter.The name burns in my throat.“Son of a bitch.”
Belinda keeps talking, her voice trembling but her words clear.“They didn’t really talk to me much.They gave me water, and crackers, and said I’d be going home soon.This morning, one of them woke me up really early and told me to get ready.He took me to a bus stop.He said I was going home, and that someone would make sure I got there safely.”
Vinnie leans forward.“Who was that someone?”
“A nice man at the station,” she says.“He helped me get on the bus.He said someone had paid for my ticket already.When I got to the bus station in town, he was there again—same guy—and he called an Uber for me.He said he wanted to make sure I got home safe.”
My stomach drops.“Did he say who sent him?”
She shakes her head.“No.But when he called the Uber, I saw the name pop up on the app.It said ‘Daniel R.’”
Vinnie’s eyes narrow.“Daniel R.Got it.”He stands, fishing his keys out of his pocket.“If the driver just dropped her off, I might be able to catch him before he leaves.”
He bolts for the door.I follow, just in time to see the Uber—a silver Honda—pulling away from the curb.Vinnie jogs up beside it, waving his hands.The driver brakes, rolling down the window.He’s a middle-aged guy with tired eyes.
Vinnie leans in.“Hey, sorry to bother you.The girl you just dropped off—who paid for that ride?”
The driver shrugs.“I don’t know, man.Some guy named”—he checks his phone—“Daniel R.Ordered it through the app.Paid extra for priority pickup.”
“You remember what he looked like?”
The driver frowns.“Didn’t see him in person.Just a voice on the phone.Sounded older.Smooth.Kind of formal, if that makes sense.He said to make sure the girl got home safe and to text him when she did.”
“Did you text him?”
“Of course.He tipped me fifty bucks.”
Vinnie slips him another hundred.“If he calls or texts again, you let me know.Immediately.”
The man nods quickly.“Yes, sir.”
Vinnie thanks him and walks back, pocketing the driver’s number.“Daniel R,” he mutters.“Whoever that is, I owe him.”
“Owe him what?”
“A shit ton of money,” Vinnie says, “or a bullet.Depends on which side he’s on.”
We go back inside.Belinda’s sipping cocoa Raven must have made while we were out.Her hands are trembling, but she’s calmer now, her voice steady as she answers Raven’s gentle questions.I can tell Vinnie wants to stay, to hover, to make sure she doesn’t disappear again.But my mind is already moving, fast and cold.
Reyes.Chef.Daniel R.
Too many moving pieces.
I pull out my laptop and set it on the table.“Belinda,” I say carefully.“Can you think really hard and describe the house where they kept you?Anything that stood out?Paint color, smell, furniture, anything.”
She chews on her lip.“It was kind of yellow on the outside, I think.But the paint was peeling.And there was this big window with a curtain that had holes in it.The floor creaked a lot.And there was a swing set outside, but one of the swings was missing.”
