Damn that hindsight brought so much clarity.
Forcing his thoughts back to the present, he stepped inside the shack. It wasn’t much more than a room with a full-size mattress on the floor in one corner, a small wooden table with four chairs and a kitchenette. He’d stayed in hotel rooms back in the States that were bigger.
A thought struck. Had he spent his time in the jungle, in remote areas trying to figure out how to appreciate what he had back home?
A woman who looked to be in her early thirties stood in front of a small sink. She wore a blue dress and an apron. A child not much older than what Ruthie would have been this year was curled up on the makeshift bed with a book.
Isiah and the woman greeted each other before Daniel was introduced.
“My name is Tasiya.” She motioned toward the table. “Please, sit.”
Daniel thanked the woman who had dark skin and sad eyes.
“Would you like coffee?” she asked.
Daniel didn’t want to insult her hospitality so he said he would appreciate a cup.
A few minutes later the woman joined them at the table after serving coffees.
“Daniel came a long way,” Isiah started with an apologetic look toward his sister. “He’s looking for the girl.”
Tasiya looked as though she’d taken a physical blow. A deep sadness settled in her eyes when she looked at Daniel. “They say we are not supposed to speak about it. But my son is lost, too. If he was alive, he would come home.”
Tears streaked her cheeks, fast and hard like racehorses being held at a starting gate too long.
“My husband works at Royale. He takes care of the gardens. It’s a good job.” She glanced toward the young girl reading on the bed in the corner. “One he can’t afford to lose. But we want our son brought home.”
His theories of Ashlyn being exploited by a human trafficking ring crashed down around him. Another picture replaced it. One of two kids who’d made a costly mistake.
“How did your son meet Ashlyn?” Daniel asked as the new reality tried to sink in.
“He liked to go to work with his father. If he went in early enough he could use the computer. My son loved to play on the computer,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
So many pieces clicked into place and Daniel realized that he’d misread the situation from the get-go. He’d never once thought about a kid making a mistake in judgment.
“What do you think happened to him?” he asked.
She shrugged. “What happens to all teenage boys?”
Daniel knew the answer to that question. Girls.
“Your son asked my friend’s niece to meet him,” he informed.
Her eyes widened and he assumed this was the first time she’d heard it.
“My people won’t speak of the girl,” she admitted. A mix of sadness and fear flitted across her features. “They only call her the runaway.”
“What if I can show you proof that your son convinced her to meet him and then she disappeared?” he asked.
The woman shook her head as though she didn’t want to consider the possibility the two were together, connected.
“I found it on the computer. He was talking to her on the computer in order to stay out of sight,” Daniel said.
Recognition dawned in Isiah’s eyes as he rocked his head, realizing it made perfect sense.
“There’s no news of your son’s disappearance,” Daniel said. “Why not?”
She glanced at Isiah. “It is not safe to talk.”
Daniel pieced the rest together. The locals couldn’t afford word to get out, which is why they lied to cover the trail. If any one of them were seen as involved in the disappearance of Ashlyn they’d lose their livelihood and, potentially in this case, their lives. Threats would be made against their families to keep something this big under wraps.
It all made sense to him now. He couldn’t resent them for trying to survive. Isn’t that what everyone was trying to do on some level?
This woman, this family lived in their own hell. It was clear that she loved her child.
“What’s your son’s name?” he asked.
“Javel.” More water welled in her eyes before she looked away from him.
“I’m sorry for your situation. I’m looking for the girl,” he finally said after a long brimming silence. “But if I find your son I’ll bring him home to you.”
Her second round of tears burst through the surface as she looked at Daniel. “You would help us?”
“Yes,” Daniel said. “I’m here for the truth. I don’t want to cause any more suffering.”
“Thank you,” she said, repeating it a few times almost in a chant. “Please bring my boy home.”
Daniel gave her a few minutes to collect herself. It was clear that talking about her son was taking a toll on her.
“Do you have a picture of him?” he asked. There weren’t any photos hanging on the walls or situated around the hut, but then there wasn’t much of anything around the place.
The woman, heavy with burden, reached under the sink counter and produced a tablet. He knew immediately what she held in her hand. Ashlyn’s sketchpad.
“Where did you find this?” he asked.
“My brother brought it to me,” she motioned toward Isiah.
“Near the water. It had been carefully tucked in a bush close to the beach,” Isiah said.
Daniel took the offering, examining the page it was open to.
Ashlyn was a fine artist. And the boy in the sketch would be considered handsome by most standards. Two teenagers pushing boundaries.
“How old is your son?” Daniel asked.
“Fifteen-years-old,” she supplied.
Tasiya stared at the sketchpad like it was the last tether to her child. The price of silence scored deep worry lines across her forehead.
“Where’s your husband now? Daniel asked. The boy’s father might be silent but he’d be looking for his son. Daniel would put money on the fact.
“He’s working,” she
