“No. The fireplace and some of the other modifications add weight that wouldn’t work for racing,” Tom said.
“Like the restraints,” Conor said in a flat tone.
“Definitely. But she’s a Hinckley and obviously has a pedigree. She could be making international trips for other reasons.” Tom paused, squinting at the monitor. “Yep—here she is.Psycheis documented.”
“Does it show the owner?” Conor asked.
Tom nodded, pointing at the screen. “Leprince de Beaumont Associates.”
“Holy shit,” Conor said.
“What?” Tom asked, looking at him.
“Same as the house,” Conor said. “Joe was supposed to check with the registered agent to get through the corporate firewall—to try totrack down the principal of the LLC.” He was already calling Joe when Tom stopped him.
“Hold on,” Tom said. “There’s an address.”
Conor leaned over and readLeprince de Beaumont Associates, 13 Lovecraft Lane, Narragansett, RI 02906. It gave a phone number with a Rhode Island area code. Tom searched the address online, and Conor punched the number into his cell phone and put the call on speaker. They got the information at the same time.
Conor was reading it on Tom’s screen when his call was answered.
“Maynard-King Hospital,” the operator said, and Conor could hardly believe it. His pulse sped up.
“I’m trying to reach Leprince de Beaumont Associates,” Conor said.
“You need the business department,” she said.
“The business department?” Conor asked.
“Yes,” she said. “LP de BA—Leprince de Beaumont Associates—is the corporation that owns the hospital.”
“Is their office there in the hospital?” Conor asked.
“Not in the hospital, but on the grounds,” she said. “They have their own building. Let me put you through to them.”
“Thanks,” Conor said. The line rang, and he got voicemail.
“You have reached the office of Darla Vandeveer. I am not available right now, but please leave your name and number, and I will return your call as soon as possible.”
Conor hung up without leaving a message.
“No one’s there,” he said. “But I have a name—Darla Vandeveer.” He immediately called Joe. There was no answer, so he texted him the information.
Tom was staring at the Maynard-King website. The home page contained a short, unsigned message saying that MK was a safe place for all people, a sanctuary full of compassion and the desire and experience in promoting healing.
Conor watched his brother click on the What We Treat tab. It listed the many services the hospital offered, the conditions its physicianstreated. Conor read over his brother’s shoulder as Tom opened each link on the list. When he got to Psychological Trauma, they saw that the page was blank except for some hyperlinked letters: VIS.
“What’s ‘VIS’?” Tom asked.
“I don’t know. Let’s see,” Conor said.
Tom clicked on the link.
The new screen contained a photo of women with blurred-out faces, standing in a circle and holding hands. Conor read the page:
Victims of Involuntary Servitude
According to the United Nations, human trafficking affects every country around the globe. While you may think it can’t happen in your city or town, it can, and it does. Victims of sex trafficking—most of them women, many of them minors—are being held captive in some of the loveliest, “safest” neighborhoods in America.
