Blaze a Trail (The Flanagan Sisters, #3) Page 2

  “We’ll keep trying,” Zita said.

  “There are no guarantees, Teresa,” Shelly said. “But we are doing everything we can to get your family out of El Salvador.”

  David frowned. Quietly Zita said, “I’ll explain later.”

  He nodded.

  “Tell me your story, Teresa,” Shelly continued and Teresa began to speak in Spanish with Zita translating.

  “I lived in a poor suburb in San Salvador. Mara Principal is influential there, but they never showed much interest in my family. Mama works in a laundry and Papa does construction. As long as they paid their dues to the gang, we were left alone. Until I turned fifteen.” She took a breath. “I was at the laundry waiting for my sister to come back from her friend’s house and one of the gang members came in to take the weekly payment. He wanted me to go outside with him and meet his friends. I knew what would happen if I did, so I refused.”

  “What would happen?” Shelly asked.

  “They would rape me. There was a group who would often stop a girl who was by herself and have their way with her.” She said it with no emotion at all. As if it was of no consequence.

  David cleared his throat and Zita shot him a warning look to be quiet.

  “Then what happened?” Shelly asked.

  “The man got angry. Said I would be sorry for refusing him, and left.” Teresa took a small sip of water, her hand shaking. “Two days later, Papa was fired. The foreman said the gang had made him do it. Then they put up the rent on our house. We couldn’t afford to live there anymore.” Her voice was full of sorrow. “Mama wasn’t earning enough from the laundry and we had nowhere to live and very little food. No one would help us for fear of what the gang would do to them.”

  “Go on,” Shelly encouraged.

  “One day, one of the gang members came to my father. He said if Papa gave me to the gang, he would get his job and house back. Mama begged Papa to move, to find somewhere safe to live, but he was too scared. Papa agreed to hand me over.”

  Zita wanted to castrate him. How could he betray his daughter like that?

  “What did the gang want with you?”

  Teresa stared down at the table. “They wanted me for sex,” she whispered. “The gang has a group of girls, they call them their girlfriends, but they’re not really. They give the girls to men as a reward for a job well done and sometimes they sell them to men too.” Teresa clenched her fist.

  Zita squeezed the girl’s hand.

  “What happened when you went to the gang?”

  Teresa glanced at David and then back to the lawyer.

  “I can leave,” David said.

  Teresa shook her head. “It does not matter. I will have to tell my story many times.” She took a deep breath. “The first day I was there, the man who started it all, the man who’d come to the laundry, forced himself on me. Then he gave me to his friends.” Her voice was dull, but she clutched Zita’s hand as if it were a lifeline. “After that, they sold me to men as punishment for refusing them at the beginning. I had to have sex with all of these men and if they complained about my response, I was beaten.”

  Tears stung Zita’s eyes. She’d heard Teresa’s story before, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  “I couldn’t stay there. I had to get away. After one beating, my arm was broken. I was taken to a doctor to get it set and I managed to escape. I ran away, as far as I could and then kept going. I didn’t know how far the gang’s influence spread and I was too scared to stop. Then I met some others who were going to the United States and I joined them. It was better than staying in El Salvador.”

  Shelly continued to ask questions, getting more details from the girl. Zita looked at David. His jaw was set and the steely look in his eyes was formidable. She was reassured that Teresa’s story had affected him.

  It took several hours for Shelly to record the information, and to update them on the intel they’d received from El Salvador. Fernando, their contact there, was trying to fight the gangs from inside the country. He was investigating how to shut down the sex slave rings, but it was a dangerous job.

  “Why can’t he speak with my mother?” Teresa asked, tears welling in her eyes.

  “Johanna refused to talk to him,” Zita told her again. “It’s hard to know who to trust.”

  Teresa burst into tears and Zita pulled her close. “We’re trying, niñita.” Her words were inadequate, but there was little else she could do. She glanced at Shelly, who looked as sad as Zita felt.

  “A hearing date has been set for January,” Shelly told them. “We’ll go over the details again before then.”

  Zita shook the woman’s hand. “Thank you.”

  Teresa wiped her eyes and they walked out of the building. The girl climbed straight into Zita’s yellow SUV, but Zita turned to David. “I’m sorry, any questions you’ve got will have to wait. I need to get Teresa home.” She couldn’t deal with him now. Not when Teresa needed her and her heart was raw.

  He nodded and ran a hand down her arm. She closed her eyes briefly, allowing herself to be soothed, surprised he was being so kind.

  “Can I call you later?”

  “Sure.” She’d like to hear what he thought, whether any of his preconceptions had been challenged. She got into her car, pushing further thoughts of David aside. She felt so helpless when she sat in the meetings, listening to Shelly plan their case. There was nothing she could do, except be there for Teresa, and that wasn’t enough. She was tired of waiting for things to happen and being the passive attendee. She wanted to fight for her foster sisters, to develop their cases and to secure their freedom. What she really wanted was to be a lawyer.

  But it could never happen. Her mother needed her too much at Casa Flanagan. She didn’t have the time to study.

  Besides, she hadn’t been a great student at high school anyway. She probably wouldn’t even get into college.

  It was all just a pipe dream. One she should probably forget.

  With a sigh, she drove Teresa home.

  ***

  Zita drove away and David ran a hand over his face. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he’d attended the meeting today, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. His stomach was tied up in knots, and he’d been nauseated as the girl had told her story.

  There was little doubt in his mind that she was telling the truth.

  But neither Zita nor Shelly had seemed surprised by it. Was it a common story, or had they heard it before and had a chance to take it all in?

  He walked back into the office, hoping to get some answers. Shelly was talking with her receptionist.

  “David, did you forget something?”

  “No. Do you have a couple of minutes to answer some questions? Zita had to get Teresa home.”

  “If you’re quick.” She led him into her office and sat down. “What do you want to know?”

  “How common is Teresa’s story?”

  “Teresa’s is one of the worst I’ve heard in a while, but sexual assault is common among the girls who arrive. If they weren’t abused before they left home, they are often abused by the traffickers bringing them here.”

  He felt sick. “Do many get sent back home?”

  She nodded. “It depends on the judge and how clear their case is. Most of these kids don’t think about bringing evidence with them, they very rarely even have money. They just run. Those who are looking for a better life, but have no real problems at home, aside from the usual poverty, generally get sent back. Those like Teresa, who have a true asylum case take longer to process and we have a good success rate with them.”

  “But it’s not one hundred percent?”

  “No. Unfortunately.”

  He couldn’t understand it. How could anyone listen to Teresa’s story and not grant her asylum?

  Shelly glanced at her watch.

  He’d taken enough of her time. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  David walked out and stood under cover
in the entrance, watching the rain that was falling in sheets. It was a miserable gray day, and it suited his mood.

  How did Zita cope hearing the girls’ stories? It was gut-wrenching, and the girls must need counseling. He was a little shell-shocked himself. He’d been friends with Carly for years, and had never known the kind of work she was involved in. Was he completely self-absorbed?

  He had a good life. His family was high on the ridiculously wealthy scale, and he’d never gone without. He ran a hand through his hair. He wanted time to process what he’d learned, do some research of his own, check statistics and start putting together some details, but he was due at work.

  Exhaling, he tried to clear his jumbled thoughts. He’d take this opportunity to learn about immigration and about those less fortunate than himself. Hopefully he’d be able to help in some way.

  Pleased with his decision, he dashed out to his car.

  Chapter 2

  The last thing Zita felt like doing was going out. She was exhausted from the session with Shelly, and Teresa was still upset. But she’d promised her friend Rebecca weeks ago that she would go out with her cousin. She hated blind dates, but Rebecca knew which buttons to push. Give her a sob story and Zita always tried to make it better. Sometimes she wished she wasn’t so empathetic.

  She should give the guy a chance. He might be great.

  She dressed quickly, choosing flared red jeans and a knitted aqua sweater, and then hurried downstairs to check if her mother needed any help with dinner. Zita disliked going out on a weeknight because she was leaving her with too much work with the six foster girls.

  “Mama, can I help with anything?” she asked, walking into the kitchen.

  “You look gorgeous, niñita,” Carmen said as she stirred a pot, the rich smells of beef and beans wafting out. “I’ve got this covered. You don’t want to spill anything on your top.”

  “You sure?” She took a seat at the breakfast bar.

  “Of course. Now, we haven’t had a chance to talk about where you’re going tonight.”

  Zita sighed. She should have known the inquisition was coming. “It’s a blind date with Rebecca’s cousin. I think we’re going to the steakhouse.”

  “Can’t he find his own woman?”

  Zita smiled. “He’s just moved to Houston and doesn’t know many people.”

  “So you’re expected to show him a good time?” Carmen raised an eyebrow.

  “It’s only dinner.”

  “What happened with the lovely David?”

  “David?” His name made her more alert. “He’s only interested in learning more about the immigration issue.” Which was kind of a shame. He was very attractive and she’d like to spend more time with him.

  “Really? A gorgeous man like that not interested in my baby? Is he gay?”

  Zita coughed. “I don’t know. We’ve only spoken a couple of times.”

  Her dogs, Bess and Saint, started barking at the front door. Relieved to end the conversation, Zita got to her feet. “That will be my ride. I’ll see you later, Mama.”

  “Have fun.”

  Zita called goodnight to her foster sisters who were in the living room watching television, grabbed her purse and headed outside. Rebecca’s small green hatchback pulled up with a guy behind the wheel.

  “Hi!” Zita said as she opened the door. “You must be Chad.” He was probably mid-twenties, and dressed casually in jeans and a black hoodie that had seen better days. Not quite what she thought of as date attire, but maybe she’d got it wrong and this was supposed to be a casual night out.

  “Yeah. Zita, right?”

  She nodded, getting in and doing up her seat belt.

  “I hear there’s a steakhouse near here,” he said.

  “There sure is.” Zita wasn’t particularly keen on it, but Rebecca had said her cousin didn’t do any kind of fancy food. As she gave him directions, she checked him out. His seat was pulled quite far forward, which meant he had to be shorter than her, maybe five foot five. His dark hair stuck out in different angles, but looked more like he’d forgotten to brush it than by design.

  They pulled into the parking lot, and after finding a table, she asked, “What brings you to Houston?”

  His eyes welled up. “Broken heart. Needed a change of scenery.” His voice was gruff.

  “I’m sorry.” She relaxed. He wasn’t looking for a relationship.

  “It was nice to be needed,” Chad said a little wistfully.

  Zita’s heart went out to him. “I’m sure it was.”

  “She didn’t really love me.” There was bitterness there.

  Zita’s first reaction was always to soothe, but today she didn’t have the energy. Today she wished she could date someone who just wanted a good time, no strings attached. She chose to keep the conversation light. “What do you do?”

  “I’m searching for work. No one is hiring at the moment. I wouldn’t have thought finding a mechanical engineering job would be so difficult down here.”

  “Have you had much experience?”

  “Some, here and there.”

  Though she knew she was going to regret suggesting it, she said, “My sister works at an oil refinery. I can ask if they’re hiring at the moment.”

  “They probably aren’t.”

  Could he be less enthusiastic? “It never hurts to ask.”

  “If you want.”

  Wow, he wasn’t willing to put any effort in. “I’ll contact you if there’s something.” She added it to her mental to-do list and picked up the menu. “Shall we order?” The quicker they ate, the faster she could escape.

  Conversation drifted to what they were going to eat and then to movies they had watched recently.

  “Jessica didn’t like mainstream movies,” Chad said. “She said they were trash wrapped up in a shiny package.”

  Zita resisted rolling her eyes. “And what do you think?”

  He shrugged. “I like the blockbusters.”

  “Great. What’s your favorite?”

  She continued to prompt him for information, but it was like getting Carmen to stop prying. Almost impossible. Not once did he ask her anything about herself.

  When her phone rang, she lunged for it. “I’m so sorry,” she said to Chad. “I thought I had it on silent.” Her finger brushed the answer button. She winced. “Hello?”

  “Zita, it’s David Randall.”

  The deep tone of his voice was enough to make her smile. “Hi, David. How are you?”

  “Good. Do you have time to talk about the meeting today?”

  She glanced across at Chad who was staring morosely at his beer bottle. “I’d love to, but I’m out at the moment.”

  “Oh, right.” His disappointment was clear.

  “How about I call you tomorrow night?”

  “That would be great.”

  She hung up.

  “Who was that? Rebecca said you didn’t have a boyfriend.”

  She frowned. “It was work related.”

  “Why is he calling after hours then?”

  She didn’t have to explain, but he looked hurt. “It has to do with the charity I work for. David knew I was busy this afternoon.”

  “Right.” He didn’t ask her anything further.

  A date with David would have been much better than this. He would have at least asked some questions.

  At the end of the night, they went to pay for the meal. Chad didn’t reach for his wallet.

  “Shall we split the bill?” Zita asked, determined to remain friendly.

  “Isn’t your sister a billionaire?”

  Zita took a step back. “Yes, she is. However, I am not.”

  “She doesn’t give you any money?”

  It was none of his damn business. “No,” she lied. She was very aware that her car and her lifestyle were thanks to her sister, but she didn’t take advantage of it. In fact, she would have preferred if she’d had to go out to earn money, then she could do what she wanted.

&
nbsp; With a scowl, he opened his wallet and took out his share.

  Zita was relieved to get into the car. It was almost over.

  “Want to go back to Rebecca’s place?” Chad asked.

  Zita almost laughed. Had he been absent at their date? Was he so self-absorbed, he didn’t realize how badly he’d crashed and burned? “No, thank you. I’ve had a long day.”

  “Rebecca said you liked a good time.”

  She was not going to ask what he meant. “What I’d like is to go home.”

  He grunted and drove her back to Casa Flanagan. The moment the car pulled up, she leapt out. “It was nice meeting you,” she said. She slammed the door and hurried up the steps.

  Why was it so hard to find a decent guy? She was good-looking and friendly. How come she always attracted the men who had issues or needed mothering? It couldn’t be too much to ask for a well-adjusted, emotionally stable man who had a decent job and who could make her laugh, could it?

  She opened the door and then locked it behind her. Chad had already driven off.

  Perhaps she went on too many blind dates. Her friends always had someone to introduce her to, but they were one-night-stand worthy and not much else. Chad hadn’t even been that. She definitely wasn’t going to let Rebecca set her up any more.

  Her thoughts drifted to David. He seemed stable enough and was definitely worth a second glance. Perhaps after they were done with Teresa’s case she would ask him out to dinner. He couldn’t possibly as bad as Chad.

  No one could.

  With a shake of her head, she headed for bed.

  ***

  David walked into his apartment, relieved he was finished work for the day. He’d been thinking about Zita and Teresa since the session yesterday and had been unable to focus. He needed to ask Zita questions, express his views, talk through the commotion in his mind.

  But she’d been out.

  He’d been tempted to ask her if she’d been on a date, but it was none of his business. Their interaction was purely professional.

  For now.

  It would be great to take her out to dinner. She’d be an interesting conversationalist, he was sure. Her world view and experiences were far different from his. He knew a little about her childhood from Carly. She’d grown up poor, migrated to Houston when she was young and now worked with the illegal child migrants who were arriving in the United States by the thousands.