Page 86 of Kyle

“I read that, too. But I don’t know anything about Canadian procedures,” I told Emerson.

“I don’t think the Canadian police would close an investigation into a missing thirteen-year-old without good cause. I’m gonna call Garrett and ask him.”

Emerson rummaged through her purse and pulled out her phone. She put it on speaker and a few seconds later it was ringing.

“Emerson?” Garrett answered.

“Yeah. Listen, can you look into the police report from when Monica Tremblay went missing and find out why the investigation was closed?”

“Sure. What are you thinking?”

I could hear Garrett clicking his keyboard as he waited for Emerson to answer.

“Not sure. Something seems off about it. In the US that would never happen, right?”

“Correct,” I answered. “The investigation would remain active and the missing person’s name would be added to the federal database. The NCMEC would also be involved and have a record.”

“Shit,” Garrett muttered. “We didn’t run the parents. And we should’ve. The case was closed when the Tremblays reported Monica had gone to live with a family member in the United States.”

“Was there a visa issued?” Myles asked.

“Negative. Nothing was filed with INS. Though Monica’s mom had dual citizenship, which means Monica does, too.”

“Is there anything that supports their claim?” I probed. “School records? Doctors’ visits? Anything?”

“Negative. She’s a ghost.”

“Is it possible her parents sold her?” Emerson questioned.

“Strong possibility. Good catch, Emmy. Let me dig into the parents and I’ll call you back. How’s the drive?”

“Long,” I muttered.

“Now you sound like Tatiana. She vowed never to take another road trip with the team.”

“She’s a smart woman.”

“Right. Out.”

Garrett disconnected and Emerson turned back to me. She looked troubled.

“How do you wanna handle her?”

I thought about her question for a moment before I answered. “We go in soft. Open up to her and see if she responds. I think she needs to see us as women who understand what she’s been through. If we don’t get the right reactions from her, we can change tactics. But if she is a trafficking victim and we go in hard, treating her like Landry’s partner and we’re wrong, we’ll never gain her trust. Not to mention, we’ll damage her more.”

“I agree. And I’ve been around enough women who’ve lived through that hell to know what they look like. If we’re right and her parents did sell her, she’s a victim no matter what. Even if Harry did turn her and she then willingly helped him. Bottom line—Monica would’ve done what she needed to do to survive.”

Emerson was right and the thought churned my stomach. There was only so much a person could take before mentally they checked out and survival mode took over.

* * *

It would be another two hours before Garrett called us back. I was staring out the window watching the New York Stewart airport go by when Emerson answered her phone.

“Find anything?” Emerson asked.

“Gold mine,” Garrett stated. “Dale Tremblay worked as a programmer until the company he worked for went bankrupt and he found himself unemployed. His wife, Beatrice, worked a low-paying job as an assistant.”

“Wait, worked? She doesn’t now?” I cut in.