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My eyes widen. “You’re kidding.”
Mom shakes her head.
“There’s a future lawmakers club at Snow Creek High School. At least there was six years ago when I was there.”
“There is?”
“Yeah. It was for people who wanted to go into law enforcement or into law. I wonder if Donny was a member?”
“If he was, we’d know about the club,” Mom says.
“Hmm. That’s weird.” Mental note—ask Donny and Callie about the future lawmakers club.
“It must be something different,” Dad says.
“Probably,” Mom agrees. “Anyway, the future lawmakers club was apparently not for future lawmakers at all. At least not at the time my father was involved. They were more into business ventures. Making money. And Brad Steel funded them.”
Man. So both my grandfathers were members of this business club. Sounds okay on its face, but I know better than to take anything at face value. Something’s coming.
“Brad Steel had plenty of money,” Mom continues, “but the others didn’t. They got greedy, and they wanted more. So they began bending the law.”
“The future lawmakers bent the law?”
“Yes. The name of the club didn’t have anything to do with what the club actually did. At least not by that time.”
“They got into drugs,” Dad adds. “And by the time our fathers graduated, they were still working together on business deals.”
Mom swallows and nods. “Yes. My father and two of the others—Tom Simpson—”
“Simpson?” I ask.
“Yes. He was Uncle Bryce’s father. And Larry Wade, who was the half brother of Daphne Steel.”
“God. We’re related to all of them?”
“In one way or another,” Dad says. “Yeah. Is it making a little more sense to you now? Why we chose to bury this part of our family’s past?”
I curl my hands into fists. “Don’t go there again with me, Dad. Not now. I’m too far in. I have to know everything.”
“She’s right, Ryan. I thought so all those years ago, and I agree with her now. Melanie and I were right back then. We knew this would come back to haunt us.”
“It didn’t have to,” Dad says.
“How could it not?” Mom raises both her hands. “It’s our history. If we don’t learn from it, we’re doomed to repeat it.”
“We would never repeat any of this,” Dad says through clenched teeth.
“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. But our children deserve to know where they come from. Even if it’s not pretty, and it’s not.”
“I suppose I should buckle up,” I say.
“Absolutely,” Mom says. “Let me tell you about Gina. But first, I need to tell you about what my father”—she winces—“and his friends Tom and Larry got into.”
A feeling of dread enshrouds me.
Already, I know what’s coming.
“Their greed got the best of them, turned them. Not that there was much good in them to begin with. I think they all must have had sociopathic tendencies before high school. That’s what Aunt Mel says, anyway.”
“She should know,” I say.
“Right.” Mom clears her throat. “They began their business legally. Brad Steel funded them, and they bought up products at wholesale and sold them retail. They specialized in hard-to-find toys for a while, but they soon found if they started bending the law, they could make a lot more money. So they turned to drugs.”
I nod. The nausea is still gone. I’m ready for anything now.
“They were smart, and with your Grandfather Steel’s money backing them and Wendy Madigan’s brain power, they got away with everything.” She clears her throat again. “Still, their greed got the best of them, and they found something that was more lucrative than drugs.”
“Do I want to know?” I ask.
Though I already know.
“People,” Mom says. “They got involved in human trafficking.”
“Uncle Talon,” I say. “Dale and Donny.”
“Were all victims, yes. But that was later.”
“So…Gina?”
“Gina became a patient of Aunt Melanie’s about a year before Aunt Melanie met Uncle Joe.”
“She did?”
“Yes. Aunt Mel and I both encountered the Steel family through sheer circumstance. She was Uncle Talon’s therapist, and I was a uniformed officer who spoke to Aunt Melanie after Gina committed suicide.”
“Why would she—”
“Let me finish, Ava. Please. This is difficult.”
I nod.
“I got away from my father that day, Ava, but Gina didn’t.” One more throat clear. “Gina was raped repeatedly by my father, beginning at age eight.”
I really thought I’d heard it all. That the nausea was gone.
I was wrong.
I swallow. Then swallow again. Slide my hand over my mouth.
“My father and the two others were groomers. They participated in the training of women and children to be sold as human slaves.”
“And he—” I slide my hand back over my mouth.
“Once I escaped him, my father turned to Gina. She was never sold into trafficking—at least not at that time—but participating in this brutality made my father and the two others even sicker than they were. They became true psychopaths and abused men, women, and children whenever they wanted. Tom Simpson, Uncle Bryce’s father, turned out to be the worst of the three. He lived a double life for many years. He was even the mayor of Snow Creek for a while. Not to discount what my father did. He was evil. Demonic, even. He was the smartest of the three, he went by many aliases, and he was the last one to get caught. Actually, he never got caught. He was killed by Wendy Madigan. But I’m getting ahead of myself.”
