I nearly heaved up my breakfast. Wendy was hardly a reliable source, but if she was telling the truth, my gut instinct had been correct.

My father and his cohorts were in the business of human trafficking. No wonder Juliet and Lisa’s plight had affected me so deeply. This shit happened in the Caribbean and countless other foreign places, but it also happened right here at home.

I was going to lose my lunch. I stood. “I’m sorry. Please excuse me.”

Ryan grabbed my hand. “Don’t go. Please.”

I swallowed. “You don’t understand. I’m seriously going to be sick. Now.”

“Take a deep breath. Please. I need you.”

Wendy went on as if nothing else were happening. “People, you see, are a dime a dozen. They’re easy to get. Much easier than drugs. And you don’t have to pay up front.”

God, she was talking like this was something normal! So matter of fact. I swallowed again to hold back the acid that was lodged in my throat. Ryan needed me. I’d stay. I’d hold it back.

“Easy to get?” Ryan said. “How can you say that?”

“The homeless. Runaways. Kids walking to school. Sometimes their own children.”

I clamped my hand over my mouth. Sometimes their own children. This would have been my fate. Gina’s fate.

Ryan turned to me. I must have looked green, because he said, “Go ahead. I got this.”

I stood and ran out of the room. I looked around for the restroom but couldn’t find it, so I headed for the nearest trash can and emptied my stomach.

I continued heaving once nothing was coming up. Sweat poured from my brow. Tears poured from my eyes. I shook, my stomach cramping. After what seemed like hours but was only a few minutes, I was finally able to stand.

An orderly came to me with a basin. “Are you all right?”

I took the basin from him. “I’ll be fine. Thank you.”

But fine was something I’d never be again. Something maybe I hadn’t been in a long time.

Pull yourself together, Ruby. I was a cop, for God’s sake. I’d seen worse in my lifetime.

But this was…personal.

So deeply fucking personal.

Wendy could easily be lying. She was certainly not a reliable source.

But she wasn’t lying. I’d already formulated a similar theory in my mind. I just never actually thought it could be true.

Yet it all made sense.

Sense in a world that was hell on earth, especially for my father’s victims.

Now more than ever, I had to find my father and bring him to justice.

---

I didn’t know how much longer Ryan talked to Wendy. Time became a hazy thing, and I sat in the hallway, clutching my basin, but I didn’t throw up again. Whether that was because nothing was left in my stomach or because I was holding it together, I didn’t know. I didn’t feel like I was holding anything together, that was for sure.

Ryan finally came walking out, his expression unreadable.

“You okay?” he asked when he came to me.

I nodded. Which was a big lie, but he had enough problems.

“Let’s go. I can’t take any more of this.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe my father would be involved in such a thing.”

“Your father probably wasn’t,” I said. “But my father was. Is.”

He pulled me into a stand. “I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.” He hugged me quickly. It wasn’t intimate at all. “Let me take you home. I need to be alone for a while.”

I nodded. That was understandable. “Just promise me that…”

He stopped my lips with his finger. “I won’t do anything stupid,” he said.

I hoped he was telling me the truth. His whole world had just been shattered. He was eerily calm right now…and I had the feeling it was the calm before the storm.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him no, I wasn’t going home. I was staying with him. But I couldn’t get the words out.

And it hit me. I needed to be alone too.

I needed to think this through, figure out what to do next.

Because doing nothing was not an option.

The drive to my apartment took only ten minutes. He gave me a hasty kiss good-bye and said he’d call me.

That was all. And I didn’t expect anything else.

I flipped on the light switch and poured myself a glass of cold water but didn’t drink it. Then I looked at my phone. I’d turned the ringer off while we were talking to Wendy. No calls, no texts.

I slid down the side of the wall to sit on the floor of my small kitchen.

My thoughts were jumbled. What next?

What next for Ryan and me? Could we even have a future now?

If only I hadn’t fallen in love with him.

Clearly he wasn’t in love with me, and right now he had way more to deal with than anyone should have. Bothering him about our “relationship” was not something I’d do.

What could I do?

More research on the future lawmakers. Another visit to my uncle, maybe. Another visit to Larry Wade. At least the two of them seemed less crazy than Wendy. Still crazy, though.

It all seemed so futile now. No matter how hard I worked, I never seemed to get anywhere. Questions didn’t turn up answers. Only more questions.

What would make me feel better?

Being with Ryan, but that wasn’t in the cards.

Then it hit me. I’d call Shayna. Just check up on her to see how she was doing. Maybe she’d heard something about Juliet and Lisa.

I searched my contacts and pulled up her number. It rang a few times, and then a female voice answered.

“Hello, Shayna? It’s Ruby Lee, from Jamaica.”

“Ruby? I don’t know any Ruby.”

“This is Shayna Thomas, right?”

“Yes.”

“We met in Jamaica. Remember? When your…friends and you went off on those Jet Skis?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. Please don’t call me again.”

The line went dead.

What?

I called the number again. This time I got no answer. It went straight to voice mail. “Listen, Shayna,” I said. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but I assure you there’s nothing to fear from me. I’m a friend. I want to help. I want to—” The line went dead.

I called again. No voice mail. She had blocked me.

Why?

What was she afraid of?

I shook my head, eyeing my glass of water on the counter above me. I wasn’t thirsty. I wasn’t hungry.

I wasn’t…anything.

And then my phone rang. A number I didn’t recognize.

Shayna! Perhaps she’d been afraid someone was listening in, and she’d tried a different phone.

“Shayna?” I said into the phone.

“No,” a male voice said.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Who is this, please?”

“Ruby,” the voice said, “this is your father.”