was here to help you.”
But it was like a wall had come down. She wasn’t budging.
“So why did you come here?” I asked, trying to maintain some momentum in the conversation. “Why did you run away?”
“I needed to hide,” she finally said, wiping at her nose. “I was afraid.”
“You didn’t think your parents would be worried?” I asked. “Your friends?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I knew they’d be worried. And I’m sorry, okay? But I wasn’t sure what else to do.”
Again, it sounded overly dramatic, but there was sincerity in her words. I wasn’t sure if she was accurately describing her situation, but she believed what she was saying.
“Why did you get into this Meredith?” I asked, trying a different path. “Why the prostitution?”
She wiped at her nose, then her eyes and looked away. “I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” I said. “This isn’t something you get into without knowing why. I don’t believe that for a second. Maybe it doesn’t feel now like you knew what you were doing. But you did.”
She sniffed and wiped harder at her eyes. “Because I was stupid then, I guess. I didn’t say out loud ‘I want to be a hooker,’ okay? I was mad at my mom, I needed money and I was stupid.”
“You aren't stupid and no one does this just for money.”
“Some people do.”
“Well, I don't believe for a second that was your reason. Had to be something else.”
She stared into her own lap, her hands clasped tightly together. “I was tired of being perfect.”
“What?”
“Everything I did, I was perfect,” she said, slowly. “Everything. School. Basketball. Everything. And I got sick of it. Because God knows if I wasn't perfect, I would've heard about it.”
I didn't say anything.
“So I decided to take the pressure off. Myself. Screw up badly enough and then I would't have to worry about being perfect. No one would expect a thing from me. For sure, not perfection.”
“And you thought this was the best way to do that?”
A sneer crossed her face. “Or maybe the apple just doesn't fall far from the tree…”
I thought that was closer to a more honest assessment, that all of this was somehow tied to her relationship with her own mother. It didn't make perfect sense, but you could draw a line from her actions to what she'd learned about Olivia.
“You weren't worried about putting yourself in danger?” I asked.
“No.” Meredith threw up her hands. “I don’t know anymore, okay. It all made sense then. It doesn’t now. I get it. And I didn’t think it would end up like this.” She closed her eyes and her body shook as she sobbed quietly.
I doubted there was anything she could say to me that would make me understand and forcing her to explain herself wasn’t my responsibility. That was something she would have to work out with her parents.
“I’ll ask one more time,” I said after a minute. “Will you tell me who beat you up? Tell me who you were freelancing for?”
“It’s okay, Meredith,” Megan said. “I think you can trust him.”
Meredith thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No. I can’t. I’m sorry. I’m afraid.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. Then we’ve got two choices. I can take you to the police or I can take you to your dad. You don’t have to tell me, but you’ll have to tell one of them eventually. I will take you to either place you want to go and I will get you there safely. But you aren’t staying here. I’m sorry. I promised your father I would find you. I have. So those are your two options. The police or your father.”
She looked at her friend.
“He’s right, Meredith,” Megan said. “You can’t stay here. It’s not safe. You have to trust him. It’s why I brought him here. I know you told me not to bring anyone, but I believe him. He’ll keep you safe.”
Meredith was staring at her lap now. “Okay. I wanna go home.”
I stood before she could put up any more of a fight. “Let’s go then.”
When she stood from the sofa, she seemed smaller, younger than when I’d seen her on the basketball court. There was no confidence, no command, like it had been ripped out of her. I didn’t know what all she was hiding, but that didn’t prevent me from feeling sorry for her.
She walked over to the kitchen and grabbed her backpack from the counter. Megan went to her and put her arm around her.
“It’s alright,” Megan said, squeezing her around the shoulders. “It’ll be alright.”
“Anything else you need?” I asked.
Meredith shook her head and we headed for the front door, the two of them in front of me, Megan still with her arm around her friend.
Megan looked back at me. “We’ll go straight to her house, right?”
“Yes. I promise.”
Megan nodded and smiled at her friend. “Good.”
I reached around them and opened the door.
And ran right into some familiar faces.
SEVENTY-SEVEN
Kelly Rundles and Robert Stricker were blocking our path.
Kelly reached her hand out. “Meredith? Are you alright?”
Meredith shrank from her coach’s reach and backed into me. I guided her around to my side and she pressed into me, a shy toddler clinging to a parent.
I put an arm around her shoulders. “She’s fine.”
Megan took several steps back and was now on my other side. She wasn’t radiating the same fear that Meredith was, but her demeanor had changed and it wasn’t for the better.
Kelly’s eyes were fixed on Meredith. “Where have you been? Do your parents know you’re here?” She glanced at me. “Do they know?”
I was taken aback by Kelly’s concern because it was genuine. She seemed shocked to see Meredith and there was no anger, no animosity, no aggressiveness on Kelly’s part. After our half-time confrontation, I had pegged her as somehow being involved in the downward spiral that had become Meredith’s life. Now, looking at her face, I was fairly certain I was wrong.
“I’m taking Meredith home,” I said, my arm tightening around her shoulders. “We’re going to her home right now. Her parents know we’re on the way.”
To the girls’ credit, they didn’t blanch at my bluff.
Kelly hesitated, then stepped out of the way.
Robert Stricker did not move.
We locked eyes.
The situation crystallized for me.
And he produced a gun.
SEVENTY-EIGHT
Stricker herded us back into the house.
Kelly Rundles’ face was the epitome of confusion. “What the hell is going on?”
He had the gun firmly aimed in my direction. By the way Meredith was clinging to me and the way Megan had taken up residence behind me, I had a pretty good idea.
