muster.
“You forget that you’ve got a new key?”
Before Sam walked in, she stooped down to pick something off the landing. Sam might have interrupted her sleep, but at least she came bearing gifts. Jess smelled coffee and pastries coming from an IHOP bag.
“I respect my friendships, unlike some folks I know.” Sam went straight to her kitchen and pulled out two large coffees, handing one to her as she set down her Colt Python on the breakfast bar.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means we’re at a crossroad, my friend. I don’t like being lied to by someone I love like a sister.” Sam rummaged through what was left of Jess’s dishes, plated a couple of cheese Danish, and grabbed napkins. “In case you haven’t noticed, I carry a badge and a gun. I can handle myself and I don’t need you to protect me.”
She brought the pastries and her coffee to the kitchen table and sat, waiting for Jess to join her. When she did, Sam got a second wind.
“Most days, it’s hard to figure out where you end and I begin, we are that much alike. But on other days, I firmly believe you should come with a warning label.” Sam took a sip of coffee and glared over the rim of the cup.
Jess knew the look. “Yeah, but people like me keep churchgoers in business.”
“Funny, Jess. But I’d settle for a little Laverne and Shirley, instead of the constant life or death drama of Thelma and Louise. I’ve got my shift in a couple of hours, so don’t screw with me. I don’t have time for games.”
“What are you talking about?”
Jess knew she was a toxic influence on those around her, but she didn’t know how to change. The circumstances of her childhood set her on a collision course with life, and there had been consequences, but she wasn’t the type to take the easy way out for herself. Some things were worth fighting for, even if it meant she had to go it alone.
“You used me to back you up yesterday, but you didn’t tell me the whole truth about Baker. You know it and I know it.”
When she didn’t answer quickly enough, Sam jumped in.
“Why Baker? What’s going on between you and this particular loser? What’s the trigger that sets you off? I think you know what I’m talking about.” She set down her coffee cup. “Does it have something to do with—”
“Please…don’t go there.” Jess got to her feet, too antsy to sit. She dragged fingers through her mussed hair. “I don’t want to talk about that.”
Sam had been the only person she had shared the darkest moments of her life, something no one else should know about another human being. Yet they’d remained friends through it all. She knew it took courage for her to keep Sam in her life, a living reminder. But there were times when she wondered if her childhood friend had become part of her penance, an odd form of self-abuse.
“I think we need to, Jess. That situation with Baker could have turned ugly. And Seth Harper would’ve been caught in the middle.”
Jess knew she was right, but it didn’t make it any easier to hear. She took a deep breath and ventured onto treacherous ground.
“I don’t want to be defined by my past anymore. It’s not who I am. I’ve left that part of me behind.”
“Have you, Jess? Have you really?” Sam pressed. Her voice raised, it echoed in the stark silence of early morning. “Ignoring the past isn’t dealing with it. You’ve shoved the tough stuff so deep that you’ve convinced yourself it’s gone. But every time another Baker comes along, something goes off in your head that turns you into a crazy person. Your judgment gets…clouded.”
Sam voice’s softened. “Maybe it’s not about leaving the pain behind. Maybe you have to face it head on.”
Jess leaned against a wall, staring across the room without seeing anything in particular. Morning had edged its way onto the horizon, and a dull gray leached through the blinds.
“Have you talked to anyone else?” Sam asked. “I mean, about what happened back then?”
Sam’s subtle way of asking if she’d undergone any recent therapy. When she was a kid, after she was rescued, she’d become a ward of the state of Illinois and had her fill of third-rate therapists and counselors to last her a lifetime. No thanks.
“No, you’re the only one who…really knows how it was.” Jess closed her eyes, taking comfort in the quiet. And Sam let her find words, in her own time. “Most days, I distance myself from it until someone like Baker stirs it up again. Then you’re right, I’m out of control. Sometimes I can’t even breathe, I get so…sick that it’s never gonna be over.”
The abuse she had endured as a kid had left its marks, literally. No human being should endure that kind of shame, especially a child. She had dug deep for the courage to survive, but she still had nightmares because of it, instigated by any number of triggers.
“I hate this…the fact that I can’t shake it?” she finally admitted.
“You’re a survivor, Jess. And I’m proud of who you’ve become, but being a survivor is not a sin that you have to atone for the rest of your life.”
Sam reached for her hand, forcing her to sit.
“Look, I know we’re not going to solve any of this tonight, but I did have a reason for coming here, Jess. I know about the skate rink and what you put into the locker. You should have told me the full story about Lucas Baker.”
She flinched enough for Sam to notice.
“Wait, how did you—” She stopped herself. She could have kept up the charade, but why? Sam was right. It was time to come clean with her friend. Frankly, she was relieved.
“I needed proof, Sam. No cop was gonna believe me without concrete evidence. And that laptop is the key. Baker is up to his eyeballs with an international organization that is bartering in kids. I just…know it.”
“And what exactly did you figure would happen?”
“I had every intention of giving his damned computer back. Hell, it practically fell into my lap when I tried to wrangle his SUV. What was I supposed to do? I had to take a peek at what he had on his computer. But then the bastard got his hands on Seth and forced an exchange. He beat the kid up, for cryin’ out loud.” Jess took a swig of black coffee, then reached for a cheese Danish and pinched off a small bite with her fingers. “But by that time, Seth had already rigged Baker’s laptop with his Trojan horse program.”
Nibbling on breakfast, Jess shrugged and went on.
“I just figured we’d give the computer back and track the bastard’s movements firsthand. You know, not breaking the chain of evidence. Baker would have his laptop back and we’d track him using Seth’s really sweet software. Eventually, I figured we’d get the proof we’d need to put him away and save some troubled kids. A pretty slick idea.”
“What makes you think Baker is running kids? If the man is working as an informant with CPD, don’t you think we’d know what he was up to?”
Jess knew Sam wouldn’t want to hear about Baker running a scam on the CPD. The man didn’t flaunt his business in front of the law. He had played it smarter than that, flying below police radar, from what she could tell. She had a theory he was operating outside Chicago, keeping his nose clean in town. The guy didn’t piss close to home. And for the CPD’s efforts, he gave them a token lead every now and then, probably throwing them his competition.
“Well, where Baker is concerned, someone better open their eyes.” She set down her coffee cup and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “’Cause the guy is dirty. Seth found an e-mail on his computer, saying a delivery from Alaska was coming to Chicago yesterday. And the sender had a Russian name. The delivery was probably some poor kid. But with all the flights scheduled, no way I could cover ’em all. He’s running kids, Sam. I know it.”
“From Alaska, you say.”
“Yeah. Probably Anchorage. And the sender used a Russian name that was probably fake. It was linked to a classic Russian fable. Seth looked it up.” She might have laid it on a little thick about her theories on Alaska and a Russian connection, but she had Sam’s ear and took advantage of it. “Baker’s involved with a big operation, an international organization with a Web site called ‘Globe Harvest.’ He hits the site all the time. A site under
