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“Nothing. I thought you might have seen her is all.”
“What the hell is going on?” I pushed back from my desk and slid on my jacket while juggling my phone from one ear to the other.
“Ella and Blake had a playdate today.” I was renaming my sister Meddlesome Marlow. “Dad and I kept them while Trish did her food truck thing.”
I checked my watch. Nearly eight. “Maybe she’s running late,” I said, knowing it wasn’t true. “Where are you?”
“At Paths.”
“Did you check with Holt? Her truck might have broken down again.”
“He’s here.” Why was my entire family looking for Trish and just now calling me? “Andrew.” There was a long silence on the other end of the line that filled me with dread. “The truck was abandoned where she sets up shop. The window and door were open. Tip jar was missing and the money in her cash drawer was gone.”
My heart beat so frantically that I could barely hear anything else above it.
My ears rang.
I broke out in a sweat.
“A robbery?” I asked hoarsely.
“Maybe.”
“What else do you know?” I locked up the office and sprinted down the steps.
“Just get here.”
“I’m on my way.”
When I reached ground zero,the air was heavy. And I got scared.
Baker paced back and forth, phone pressed to her ear. My brother caught her by the wrist, but she wouldn’t stop, pure anguish on her face. Vivian, Daniel, Sonya, and Drew were huddled with Mrs. Quinn and my father, their expressions serious. A girl I didn’t recognize hovered in the background, appearing as though she wanted to help, but didn’t know how.
Marlow raced toward me. She grabbed my hand and dragged me toward where everyone was gathered. Daniel’s eyes met mine.
It was bad news.
He didn’t try to mask it. I respected and hated him for it all at once.
The looks exchanged around the table were worse. They all knew something I didn’t. Something none of them wanted to tell me.
“You need to sit down,” Mrs. Quinn finally said. Sharp lines of worry framed her eyes, deep set and haunted.
I obeyed, and Marlow stood behind me, resting her hands on my shoulders. “Have you found her?”
“No,” Daniel said in a clipped tone.
“This isn’t your fault.” Vivian touched his arm, but he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s impossible to keep eyes on someone at all times.”
“We promised to protect her.”
“Someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on.” My patience was officially out.
“What do you know of Trish’s past?” Mrs. Quinn asked, her voice scratchy underneath the calm.
“Only that she’s married.” The thought still burned me even now.
“I understand that she told you she’s a resident here.” I nodded. “She and Ella came to us eleven months ago. A friend of mine who works at the hospital felt they needed our help.” She paused as if searching for words she didn’t want to have to say. “Her husband kept her locked in a basement for five years.” Oh, Jesus. “He used her as a sex slave.”
