Page 71 of In a Haze

I consider not telling her, just in case she doesn’t think it’s enough—but I suspect she’s not going to say anything if I don’t put the pressure on. I know, if it comes to it, that Joe would rough her up on my behalf, but I really don’t want to go there.

I’m going to take the chance. “We have text messages between you and Don. We have the files in your office.” Well…we don’t actually have them yet but we will.

“Let me see them.”

I hold up the cell phone. “Would you like me to read your conversations?” Opening up the texts, I start reading. “The package is arriving tonight,” I say, reading the first text. “We’ll be ready. That kind of thing is repeated over and over at various dates and times.” She seems unmoved, so I just read each one rapidly, starting with the exchange between her and Don when he basically ordered her to take me and the other girl in. After reading, I look up. While the snarl on her lip makes her appear defiant, the fear in her eyes tells me she’s closer to thinking about talking.

I continue, “I have another long-term package for you. Needs placement with you ASAP.Long-term?” I glance at Joe, as if to let Dr. Wilson know thatweknow the next text refers to him. “Eyes for me.” I take a chance, changing the next text to include my name—and I hope she doesn’t remember that he only referred to me by my first initial.“Someone to watch Anna when you can’t be around. To report to you if treatment fails to work.” Again, I look up at her. “Need more? How about this one?You need to visit your wife. Looks suspicious if you don’t.” If this doesn’t make her crack, nothing will—so I say, “You can either tell us or tell the cops. Up to you.”

I can see a bead of perspiration forming on her forehead where the hair parts, and the way she’s breathing, I’m afraid she’s going to give herself a heart attack. “Look, all I ever wanted to do was retire somewhere down south—like Cabo or Belize or Ecuador.” Like I give a shit what she wanted. How many lives has this woman helped ruin because she wants to retire somewhere warm? I hope she can read that on my face before she continues. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know if you let me go. You’ll never hear from me again. I’ll retire like I planned and that will be that.”

I’m not willing to do that. At this point, I hope we have enough evidence and information to convince the authorities that we can nail this woman and Don to the wall—but Joe, my street smart friend, speaks up. “I think that’s a perfect exchange.”

I’m not about to correct him.

And she starts spilling. “Your husband was my attorney back in the day. I had a few malpractice lawsuits that he took care of. Before he became a representative, he connected with some rich and powerful men who were willing to make sure he got elected in exchange for some favors. First, introduce and help pass laws that benefit them in all sorts of ways but, more importantly, help them organize a scheme.” The cars are starting to come through the garage doors regularly and Dr. Wilson pauses to glance at them. Maybe she’s hoping someone will rescue her or realize that we’re escaped patients that she needs their help with.

So far, they keep driving. After all, they’re not on the clock yet.

And Dr. Wilson’s not a very nice person.

She continues talking. “This scheme basically involved human trafficking. These rich older men and all their friends wanted supposed maids—young, pretty girls who could pass as help—but they were really just sex slaves.”

The files. Those girls were all kidnapped and turned into sex slaves? The girl in my basement?

Now, more than ever, I feel like I’m going to throw up—but there’s nothingtothrow up.

Even though it’s not necessary, I ask the question anyway. I want to hear her admit it. “Where did you come in?”

“There was no set schedule, but we had approximate timeframes and goals. During these particular timeframes, I had to make sure I had a room available. They’d bring these girls to Denver in the back of a cattle car pulled by a semi. They had it specially built so she would be hidden in case they were stopped by police. But once they got to Denver, Don and another man would deliver them here.”

“And so once they got here, what did you do?”

“I ordered what I called an amnesia regimen. Electroconvulsive therapy combined with a cocktail of drugs designed to help with memory loss. Sometimes it’s temporary; other times, memory loss is permanent. But even if they could remember certain things, I could prescribe drugs that would make them more docile, more pliable, more enjoyable to my clients’ liking.” My gut is simmering right now, but I keep my mouth shut. This is what I wanted—to know everything. “Most girls were ready to go after a month.”

I see Joe shift out of the corner of my eye before he says, “So where does Anna fit into all this?”

“She saw too much.”

“Obviously,” Joe says, making his voice sound like she’s an idiot for assuming the same of him. “But she wants to know how she got here. You can at least do her the courtesy.”

My heart swells a bit, reminding me that I already love this man—and I’m starting to trust him again. Someone who didn’t have my best interests wouldn’t ask these questions.

Would he?

“There was a delivery coming that day, and the semi pulling the cattle with one lone girl broke down about thirty miles west of Denver. Don and one of his guys met the delivery and took the girl so they could get the diesel repaired. I was at a conference on the east coast that day but flying in late that afternoon. I had planned her intake for around midnight. Later in the evening always worked best, because there’s less staff to deal with.

“Because Don couldn’t reach me, he had the girl in his car, but she was noisy and attracting attention, so he and his henchman took her to your house. It was temporary, he said. He restrained her in the basement and then made some calls. He couldn’t reach me because I was in the air, flying home, so he wound up renting a van as well as obtaining some Rohypnol. But, when he got home, ready to get her out of there, you had already found her. You’d come home earlier than he’d planned. So he used some of the drugs on you and brought you both to me for processing.” Her icy stare almost makes me shiver. “He would have killed you if your kids hadn’t shown up. Instead, he brought you to me and told your kids and the press that you’d tried to commit suicide.”

“And he putmehere,” Joe says, “to keep an eye on you. He said you were dangerous. I couldn’t quite understand why he wanted me here but I figured it was temporary—that, once I could let him know how you were doing, I’d be gone.”

The sneer on Dr. Wilson’s face makes me sick. I can tell that she’s mad she got caught, that the feels like we should have been too stupid and too drugged up to catch them. There is not a single drop of remorse in her eyes.

I know enough now. Whatever I might have thought about this woman before, now I despise her. “I’m not even going to address what you did to me. But don’t you feel awful about those girls? Ripping them from their lives just so some disgusting dirty old men could feel good about themselves?”

“You don’t understand, Anna. These girls? They were living in deplorable conditions—runaways, drug addicts, from bad homes, living on the street. I don’t feel bad because we were giving them better lives.”

You can’t reason with evil.

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