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Daniel shook his head. “When people say human trafficking, they think of sex workers, sex trafficking, but it’s defined as using force, fraud, or coercion to exploit people for sex acts, or labor. He got them on labor trafficking.”
“So the girls wouldn’t, couldn’t, admit to the physical and sexual abuse, but Agent Salford got them to talk about being forced to make ceramic mugs.”
“He didn’t have to. It was all right there in the financial records. The accounting was set up to say the artists were all full-time volunteers, who were given food and lodging in exchange for their documented full-time volunteer efforts.
“But they were children. Children have limits as to how much they can work, even if it’s as a volunteer. It is severe psychological manipulation to make provision of shelter and food, both of which children have a right to, dependent on a child’s labor output. Therefore, the church was guilty of violating child labor laws, human trafficking, and child neglect. The charges stuck, and most of the adults were convicted.”
“He managed to turn their cutesy bullshit store into evidence against them. Damn. That’s good.”
“And he did it all using their own financial records. Because you see, Rand Salford wasn’t with the FBI human trafficking division. He was with white collar financial crimes. He was a forensic accountant.”
He knew he was smiling, and she answered his smile with one of her own.
“The apostle—and by the way, I call him that because I refuse to say his name—was eventually prosecuted for pedophilia and rape, when some of the girls came forward, after they’d been out of the cult for a while, and learned what was normal.”
“Good. I’m glad he had to pay for those crimes.”
“And the day I turned 18 I changed my name. Daniel after the main character inThe Shadow of the Wind. The first book I found in that box and read. And Randall after Agent Randall ‘Rand’ Salford.”
She squeezed his hand. “You’re a forensic accountant, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Can I tell you something?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“And I want you to really listen.”
“I’m listening,” he assured her.
“You’re amazing. You’re kind and sexy and smart.” She set her glass aside and then slid off the chaise, onto her knees in front of him. She kissed their linked fingers, then raised their hands to her face, rubbing her cheek against his knuckles. “You had every right to tell me to stop being such a headache when I walked off. You didn’t. You helped me deal with my own shit. Made me feel safe. You are, quite simply, amazing.”
Daniel looked down at Autumn. The deep V of her shirt gave him an almost perfect view of her breasts. He wanted to reach down and grasp her gently by the throat. Order her to open her mouth, just so he could imagine what it would look like when his cock slid between her lips.
Wanted to slide his hand into her shirt, tug her breast out so it was exposed, so he could play with her nipple.
He wouldn’t, couldn’t, because now she knew about his past…but she didn’t know his secret.
“Autumn…don’t. I can’t touch you. Not until you know…”
“Know what?”
“That I’m a monster.”
Chapter 18
It took everything she had not to burst into tears. To sob for the little boy he’d been. A child who never had a chance to be a child, who had reinvented himself. Taken a new name and followed in the footsteps of a man who he’d seen as a hero.
Everything about him, from his easy self-confidence to the calm way he’d handled her emotional responses, spoke of a man who was sure of himself and his place in the world. It must have taken a lot of work for him to get there, and she wanted to stand up and start clapping. Shout “Bravo” because, damn it, he needed to be celebrated for what he’d overcome.
The smile was gone from his face. His expression had become unreadable. “I can’t touch you. Not until you know…”
Her stomach clenched. “Know what?”
“That I’m a monster.”
“No.” Her denial was vehement. He wouldn’t let her think badly about herself, and she was going to do the same for him.
