Chapter 4: Uncle Garrett
Everyone looked at Mia.
She was sitting upright now, the blanket pulled tight around her shoulders, Danny still pressed close beside her.
She wasn't looking at Ryan or Caroline.
She was looking at the front door.
"He always finds me," she said.
"Every time."
Ryan moved to the window and looked out at the street.
Nothing.
No parked cars.
No movement.
He pulled the curtain closed.
"Mia." He crouched down to her level.
"Has he ever hurt you?"
She didn't answer.
She pulled the blanket tighter.
"You don't have to tell me everything right now.
But I need to know if you're in danger tonight."
"I'm always in danger," she said.
Not dramatically.
Just as a fact.
Ryan stood up.
"I'm calling the police."
"No." Mia grabbed his wrist.
Her grip was surprisingly strong.
"Please.
The last officer who came — he called Uncle Garrett after.
From his own phone.
I heard him."
Ryan looked at Caroline.
Caroline looked back at him with an expression that said: now do you understand why I didn't call?
He sat down on the edge of the coffee table.
"Okay.
Not the police.
Not yet." He rubbed his face with both hands.
"Do you know where he lives?
This man?"
"He moves around.
He has a white van.
He parks it different places."
"Does he have a real name?
Something other than Garrett?"
Mia thought about it.
"The other men call him Denny.
Or Mr.
D.
I don't know which one is real."
Ryan looked at Caroline again.
She was already on her feet, moving to the kitchen, pulling open the drawer where they kept a notepad.
"Say that again," Caroline said.
"Denny.
Or Mr.
D."
"That's what they called him."
"Other men," Ryan said.
"There are others?"
Mia nodded slowly.
"There were three of them.
At the house where I was staying.
I don't know where the house is.
I was in the back of the van when they brought me there.
I couldn't see out."
Danny hadn't said a word in ten minutes.
He was watching Mia with the focused, serious expression of a child who has decided something matters.
"I'll protect you," he said quietly.
Mia looked at him.
Something shifted in her face — not quite a smile, but close to the shape of one.
"Okay," she said.
Ryan stood up.
"I need to make a call.
Not the police." He looked at Caroline.
"Do you still have Tom Heller's number?"
"Your brother's friend?
The one who works for the county sheriff's office?"
"He's not a patrol officer.
He works investigations.
He's not going to call anyone without talking to me first." Ryan was already moving toward his phone.
"I trust him."
"Ryan—"
"We can't do this alone, Caroline.
We have a child in our house who may have been trafficked, there may be a man outside who knows she's here, and we have a seven-year-old son sitting on that couch." He stopped.
"I'm calling Tom."
Caroline pressed her lips together.
Then she nodded.
Ryan stepped into the hallway and dialed.
It rang four times.
"Ryan?" Tom's voice was rough with sleep.
"It's past eleven.
What's wrong?"
"I need your help.
Off the record, until I say otherwise."
A pause.
"Talk to me."
Ryan told him everything.
It took four minutes.
Tom didn't interrupt once.
When Ryan finished, the line was quiet for a moment.
"Don't call anyone else tonight," Tom said.
"Don't post anything, don't text anyone, don't search his name on your home network.
I'll be there in forty minutes."
"You believe me?"
"A man named Denny who goes by Mr.
D and uses a white van?" Tom's voice had changed — harder, quieter.
"Ryan, I've had a file open on someone matching that description for eight months.
We just didn't have a witness."
Ryan's hand tightened on the phone.
"Drive carefully," he said.
He walked back into the living room.
Mia was asleep on the couch, her head on Danny's shoulder, the blanket tucked under her chin.
Danny had not moved.
He was sitting perfectly still, watching the front door.
Caroline looked at Ryan from across the room.
"What did he say?"
Ryan looked at his son — eight years old, spine straight, jaw set — standing guard over a girl he had known for less than an hour.
"He said he's coming."
May you like
A pair of headlights swept slowly across the front curtain.
Then stopped.
