Chapter 21
Faith

She hadn’t had a tension headache like this since law school. Faith rubbed her temples and squeezed her eyes shut. Even the short break from the screen felt like a luxury.

For the past four hours, she’d hunkered over her laptop in the bedroom. The numbers for the property project had all started to run together. Armed with that lump sum from Lydia, she was tempted to just approve figures and projects left and right. However, her father’s conservative voice rang in her head. The more you save, the more you’ll have. “Yeah, yeah, Dad,” she said aloud with a sigh. She did her best not to tarnish what little memories she had of him with what she’d remembered in Lydia’s laundry room.

It still shocked her to see all those zeroes when she logged into the account Lydia’s estate agent had set up for her. Faith had thought when she’d signed on with the firm that she’d be rolling in dough. But her salary was nothing compared to this.

“I highly suggest you invest,” the estate agent had told her over the phone. When he’d first told her the figure, she’d stopped breathing. “It’s not my place to say, and it’s not my specialty, but with this amount of money, it should really be working for you.”

“Working for me?” she’d squeaked.

“Well, yes. Assuming you don’t have the lifestyle of a champion boxer, I imagine you’d never have to work again.”

“But I want to work,” she’d said.

“Suit yourself.”

Yeah, I was crazy, she thought as she refreshed the latest spreadsheet. This one was even more of a mess than the last. Maybe she did want to work, but the more she stayed on Saint Rose, the more she realized she didn’t want to work as a corporate attorney in the Bay area.

She hovered the cursor over the Facebook tab but resisted. It wouldn’t take much to get sucked into hours of scrolling through a newsfeed, and then nothing would be accomplished. Instead, she opened up a new tab and googled “human trafficking Saint Rose Georgia.”

“Oh my God,” she whispered. There were pages of results, though most of the hits were in forums and reeked of urban legends. However, when she started to filter results, there were a few news hits.

“Fifteen-Year-Old Freed from Massive Florida Child Trafficking Ring”

“Florida-Georgia Line a Hot Spot for Sex Trafficking”

“Four Arrested in Georgia Sex Trafficking Ring”

Faith clicked on one of the local news stories based out of Baxley. Why don’t I remember seeing any of this on the news? The article detailed how human trafficking filtered up from Florida to Georgia. “Reminiscent of slave trade,” the reporter claimed. From the looks of it, this had been going on for decades.

The Georgia farms were particularly popular as “holding cells,” said the report. “The relative isolation, large parcels of lands, and ‘look the other way’ attitude of Georgians make former plantations and farms ideal for human, child, and sex trafficking,” claimed the reporter. As evidence, a small ring had been busted three years ago. It involved two men and one woman as the smugglers, along with three girls who were barely legal.

One of the victims claimed that she was lured to Florida from her Boise, Idaho, hometown with the promise of success in a legitimate adult-film industry,” the article said. “She answered an ad in the Boise Craigslist Gigs section titled Sexy Girls Wanted. The victim says that within one week of responding to the ad, the poster booked a first-class ticket for her to Miami.”

“Jesus,” Faith said.

The other girls in the ring, who were seventeen and sixteen at the time of their arrival in Miami, told similar stories. “I thought I’d just be doing, you know, regular porn,” one of the unnamed victims said. “I was okay with that. I’d watched a lot of it, and it seemed all right. But as soon as we got to the house in Miami, it was nothing like what the manager said.”

For three years, the girls had been used as sex slaves in what authorities had thought was an abandoned farmhouse in rural Georgia. They were never paid, and the conditions were deplorable, according to the sheriff who responded to the eventual call for help.

“They fed us just enough to stay attractive, that’s what they said,” reported one of the victims. “But no money, no clothes, no essentials.”

“Did the customers, as you call them, did they use protection?” asked the reporter.

“Sometimes,” said one of the victims. “They had to pay a lot more for bareback. I don’t know how much, we were never told the amount. But I think it was a lot more because only about half paid it.”

The victims were described as malnourished, and two of them hadn’t bathed in a week. The third girl was found recently showered with “an excessive amount of makeup” but drugged nearly to the point of being comatose. “Rape test kits revealed that she had recently been assaulted by at least three men within the past twenty-four hours,” reported one medical staff member. “She can’t recall and has difficulty telling time and dates at the moment due to the Rohypnol in her system. However, semen from three men were found, and DNA from two others were discovered underneath her fingernails.”

Faith’s stomach lurched. There were thumbnails of the girls as they were taken out of the house—a house that looked very much like the one Faith had inherited. However, this one was on the mainland. She couldn’t bring herself to enlarge the photos, even though it was obvious their faces were blurred. The mug shots of the ringleaders were bigger. They look like they could easily be related to the rednecks from the ferry, Faith thought with a shudder.

She was pulled out of her research by the ding of a new email. You’ve received a response from your I Dream of Genealogy forum query.

Faith’s heart started to pound. After she’d seen the reality of what was happening all over Georgia, her hunt for family suddenly seemed exceptionally minor.

Hi, Faith. My name’s Hannah, and I think we might have a connection? I think, actually this is crazy, but we might be cousins. I’m a realtor, so I’ll be in your area today and tomorrow. Do you want to meet up?

Faith chewed at her lip and checked Hannah’s member profile. She seemed legitimate, though she hadn’t included a photo. But that’s normal these days, Faith thought. However, the account had been created two years ago, and there was a string of posts Hannah had commented on. Faith clicked on a few, and they seemed innocent enough. Hannah hadn’t included a surname, so there was no way to dig deeper.

What are you getting all paranoid for? Faith sighed. That’s what digging into the underbelly of the news could do to you.

Thanks for the reply, Hannah, Faith wrote. I’d love to meet up. How about dinner at Pirate Cove tonight? It should be convenient for both of us, and it’s open late. My number is below. Let’s figure out the details.

She bristled at the name of the restaurant, but it was the only one that would be open late and was easily accessible. Five minutes later, Hannah replied with a text to confirm the time.

Faith stood up from the vanity table and stretched. It was nearly noon, and she hadn’t even showered yet. Still, she needed to make sure she could even get a ride to the restaurant.

All was quiet downstairs. Mama was likely puttering around in her garden, and today was Jessie’s day off. Faith started to search for Caleb, worried that he might be out and about in his boat. Without changing out of her satin pajama shorts and matching camisole, Faith grabbed her denim jacket from the mudroom and slipped on her flip-flops.

As soon as she walked outside, she saw Caleb and Alex chopping driftwood. She stopped abruptly and stepped behind a pillar.

They were shirtless and sweaty and she felt an instant heat flush between her thighs. They were competitive, too. Who knew how long they’d been out there, but the pile of chopped wood was impressively high.

Faith peered around the pillar and drank in the sight of them. Irish twins is right, she thought. At just one year apart, they might as well have been fraternal twins. Both were gorgeous with bulging muscles covered in a sheen of sweat.

She couldn’t help but be drawn especially to Alex, though. That wouldn’t normally be the case. After all, I’ve already had him, she thought. Faith didn’t normally sleep around or have one-night stands, but she knew she loved the thrill of the chase.

Maybe this chase isn’t over yet.

“Faith?” Caleb’s voice cut through her admiring of Alex.

“Oh. Hi!” she said, embarrassed. She pretended to dig through the pockets of the jacket for something. “I was just coming out to look for you.”

“Seems you were lookin’ for a while, ma’am,” Caleb said with a smile.

She was thankful that he was too far away to see how deeply she blushed. Alex didn’t even stop with his chore. But did it seem like he started to chop harder, faster, after he realized she was there?

“You wish,” she said with a smile.

Caleb flexed his arm. “Can’t say I blame you, ma’am,” he said.

Finally, Alex stopped and turned toward her. She expected to see him looking exasperated or angry that she’d interrupted them. Instead . . . did he actually look sheepish? That would be a welcome change.

“So.” Faith started as she walked toward them. “Any chance you could take me to the ferry tonight?”

“What for?” Caleb asked. He slammed the ax into a stump and pulled a red handkerchief out of his back pocket to wipe the sweat off his face.

“I need to go to Pirate Cove tonight,” she said.

“Why’s that? Got a hot date?” Caleb teased. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alex stiffen.

“If you call a hot date Hannah, and she might be a cousin.”

“Hannah sounds like a sexy name,” Caleb said. “The cousin part, not so much. I’m not that southern.”

“God, do you ever stop?” she asked with an eye roll.

“Only if you know the safe word. But, nah, for real I can take you, though. But I don’t want you takin’ the ferry alone. You’d be comin’ back alone when it’s dark and might miss that last ferry. I’ll take you on the boat.”

“Great,” Faith said. “Thank you. And, obviously, I’m happy to buy you dinner for the trouble.”

“Dinner sounds mighty nice. Been a while since I was at Pirate Cove,” Caleb said with a nod. “But only if Alex comes, too.”

“Alex?” Faith asked. She glanced at him. “Uh, sure. But why do you—”

“Hey, as great as it sounds being in a threesome with you and your cousin, it’s not really my style,” Caleb said.

“Don’t think you can handle it?” Faith asked. She couldn’t help but get in another dig at Alex.

“More like, not up for testing that theory,” Caleb said. “Besides, it would do Alex some good. Meet a new girl, have a few drinks.”

Alex scowled at him, and Faith turned red. Is that what this is about? Caleb trying to set up Alex with some girl none of us have even met? Who knows how old Hannah even is!

“What makes you think I have so much free time I can just drop everything and go drinking with y’all?” Alex asked.

“Oh, c’mon,” Caleb said. “You think I don’t know you and your regimented schedule by now? What time you Gonna meet her, Faith?”

“Seven,” Faith said.

“See? Plenty of time to get your work done for the day,” Caleb said. “What’s the big deal, Alex? You got somethin’ against pretty girls?”

“What makes you think she’s a pretty girl?” Alex asked. He slowly pulled his shirt back on.

“She’s related to Faith, right?” Caleb asked.

“Well, maybe,” Faith said. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

“Good enough for me,” Caleb said. “C’mon, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud, Alex. You really Gonna stick me with two gossiping hens all night?”

“Hey!” Faith said. “I’m standing right here.”

“You know what?” Alex asked. “Fine. Jesus, if it’ll shut you up.”

“Awesome,” Faith said. She broke into a smile. “I’ll meet you guys here at what, six?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Caleb said. “And, Faith? I hope you’re bringing your credit card, because I have a mind to try all those fancy tiki cocktails now that you’re paying.”

“Right,” she said. “I’d like to see you sipping on a mai tai.”

“A real man’s got no shame drinkin’ a neon beverage. So six o’clock. It’s a date.”

She heard something in the word “date,” a type of longing or flirtation that went beyond the surface. However, at this point, Faith didn’t care. She turned back to the inn and felt Caleb’s eyes on her the entire way. A part of her wished she’d pulled on proper shorts or something that covered a little more than this wisp of pajama shorts—still, she refused to adjust them.

And a bigger part of her wished it was Alex’s eyes that watched her walk away.