“We tried that.” Oliver hesitated. “The place was full. She’s an adult, so she can’t stay with the other girls. The services we have for children don’t apply to her.”
Frustration filled Jack’s veins. “That’s wrong, sir.” He could picture Eliza’s blue eyes. “So what if she’s twenty. She might as well be fifteen. She’s never known anything but the Palace. We can’t just turn her out on the streets.”
“I agree.” Oliver stood and faced the window behind his desk. “Since 2000 we’ve tried to find the exact right way to help victims of trafficking. But our programs are all very specific.”
Jack knew only too well. As a victim of trafficking—which she was, even though she was never technically sold—if Eliza wanted citizenship, no problem. If she applied for a small business loan, she’d get preference. But how was she supposed to live in the meantime? Jack clutched the arms of the chair. “Where is she now, sir?”
“She’s not a Texas resident, Jack. That excludes her from a number of services. The ones she’s eligible for are full.” He paused. “And honestly, she’d face the same thing in any state.” Oliver turned to Jack again. He paused longer than usual. “She’s in a homeless shelter. I gave her food vouchers and a bag of clothes from the Goodwill. I had nothing else, Jack.”
“What about hotels?”
“We’re out of vouchers. I put a social worker on the case. If one opens up, Eliza will be the first to get it.”
Jack was on his feet. “Are you kidding me?” His voice was louder than he intended. He stared at Oliver, then he dropped back to his chair again. Even now he couldn’t be rude. None of this was Oliver’s fault. But he was seething. “A homeless shelter, sir? Really?”
“I was lucky to get her that.” Oliver sorted through a folder on his desk. “There’s a facility for domestic violence victims that might have a spot in a month or so.”
“What?” Jack couldn’t believe this. Eliza was at a homeless shelter, alone in San Antonio? “You said she can’t be with the other girls.” His mind began to spin. The floor felt unsteady. Eliza would feel tricked for sure. Lying on a mattress on the shelter floor, no doubt surrounded by some of the scariest people in the city? “Let’s get an exception.”
“That won’t work.” Oliver shook his head. “The new group home is licensed only for minors. She would be considered a liability to the younger girls.”
A liability? Jack was ready to blow up. “Sir, I’m requesting this day to figure out housing for the girl. She helped me. That’s the least I can do.”
Oliver hesitated, but only for a minute. “Yes.” He sighed. “The system is far from perfect, Jack. You know that.” He handed over the girl’s folder. “If you can find her something, it’ll be the best news since the raid.”
JACK’S FIRST STOP was the group home where the twelve girls were staying. Stan and Melinda Largo met with him in the front room. The two were born in Nigeria and moved to the United States to attend medical school.
They listened while Jack talked about Eliza, how she needed a place to live while she got on her feet, found work and an apartment.
“Please. You have to help her.” God… if You’re there, please. “She’s at a downtown shelter. She needs you.”
Melinda looked like she was about to cry.
Despite the kindness in his brown eyes, her husband shook his head. “I’d love to help her, Jack. The younger girls talk about her all the time. Especially Rosa.”
“I’m thinking, maybe just this once.” Jack was ready to beg the couple. “Something temporary. We could get the state to make an exception.”
“There are no exceptions, Jack.” Stan frowned. “The law is in place to protect children.”
Again Jack’s mind raced. “What about… hiring her? She could be a housekeeper, help do the dishes and laundry. Help the children with their homework. She’s extremely bright.”
Melinda’s eyes lit up. “Does she have a criminal record?”
“No.” Charges wouldn’t be pressed against Eliza because she had helped the FBI with the raid. It was the first ray of hope. Jack grabbed the possibility. “Eliza’s new here, but I can get her fingerprinted and cleared, all her paperwork finished by tomorrow. So you could hire her.”
Stan put his arm around his wife. “You might be onto something here.” He stood and poured a glass of water. Then he handed it to Jack. “So you’re sure? She’s safe around the other girls?”
Clearly Stan and Melinda knew the earmarks of a trafficked victim. Sometimes those who were abused went on to abuse others. But that wasn’t the case with Eliza. Jack had spent enough time with her to tell. At least he hoped so. “She’s safe. We’ll have an evaluation done later today.”
“Okay, then.” Stan nodded. “We will watch her. Just in case.”
Now Jack had to find Eliza. Before she took off or gave up. Too often, when the system failed them, trafficked victims wound up returning to slavery. At least that way they would have food and a place to sleep. Because it was the only life they had ever known.
Jack pulled up at the downtown San Antonio shelter just before one o’clock. He tried to walk straight back to the living quarters, but the man at the front desk rose from his seat. “This is a private place, buddy.” The man was in his forties, and he looked ready to fight. “You gotta get approved before you walk back.”
“FBI.” Jack flashed his badge and stopped short. “I’m looking for Eliza Lawrence. She came here about a week ago.”
The guy squinted at him. “Let me see that badge.”
Time was slipping away. Jack pulled his badge out once more. He raised his voice. “Give me her room number.”
“Someone gave her a voucher.” The guy crossed his arms. “A hotel voucher.”
“Who?” Panic grabbed at Jack. Eliza could be anywhere in the city. “A social worker?”
“Yeah,
