Tuesday, September 24
Papa’s Restaurant
Paradise Valley, Arizona
ELIZABETH JOHNSON LOOKED like a redheaded angel with the sunlight from the diner window spotlighting her flowing hair and creamy complexion. Huddled into a booth across from Caitlin and Spense, the girl’s expression was demure to the point of submission, and Caitlin was grateful she’d somehow found the courage to slip her that note as they were leaving the Baumgartner mansion. “Thanks for meeting us, Elizabeth. Agent Spenser and I are here to listen to whatever you have to tell us. We only want to help.”
Casting her glance down at the glass of lemonade she spun between her hands, Elizabeth nodded. The muscles around her mouth tightened, and she blinked rapidly, then shaded her eyes from the sun. When she took her hand away, her eyes were wide, their color a deep midnight blue. A hiccup preceded her words. “I don’t want to go to jail.”
Caitlin and Spense exchanged a glance. Caitlin’s first inclination was to promise Elizabeth that wouldn’t happen, but until she heard what the girl had to say, it was a promise she couldn’t make. And how could she expect the girl to trust her if she offered up something she couldn’t deliver? Elizabeth would see through that, then she’d never feel safe enough to speak freely to her again. “I don’t want you to go to jail either. But if you think it’s best to have this conversation with an attorney present, Agent Spenser can arrange that. Believe me when I tell you, I don’t want any harm to come to you.”
A tear slipped down Elizabeth’s cheek. “I don’t want a lawyer. I just want this to be over.” She hiccuped again and took a sip of lemonade.
“You want what to be over, sweetie?” Caitlin braced herself, knowing Elizabeth’s story wouldn’t be easy for her tell or for them to hear.
“I ran away from home when I was fourteen. My mom’s boyfriends . . .” Abruptly, she stopped and took a sip of lemonade. “When my mom was away, they’d do things to me. So I ran. Only I had no place to go. I was sleeping in boxes and hiding out in people’s garages until I found some other kids on the street who showed me what to do. How to make it on my own. You know, turning tricks and stuff.”
From the corner of her eye, Caitlin saw Spense’s jaw tighten, and a flush crawl up his neck. But he kept quiet and said nothing. They both waited for Elizabeth to settle in with her story.
“Anyway, it was pretty rough down there on Van Buren Street. I got beat up a couple times, and I don’t even know how many times someone put something in my drink and I’d wake up and have no idea what happened to me. What the hell did they have to do that for when I was willing to do it for just a little bit of cash? Just enough to get me a place to sleep for the night. That’s all I asked for.” She stopped, picked up a napkin, started shredding it. “That was the absolute worst part. Not knowing what they’d done to me. I thought no matter how bad it was, I wanted to know. Not remembering made me feel like a ghost. Like I didn’t exist, you know?”
“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth. No one should have to endure what you have. Whatever you’ve done, it’s because you were surviving, and you have every right to survive. I promise we’re going to help you, no matter what.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I did something really bad.”
Caitlin reached her hand across the table to Elizabeth, but the girl didn’t take it. Caitlin’s throat clogged with emotion, seeing how hard it was for Elizabeth to trust anyone enough to let them show her the smallest bit of compassion.
“I’m the one who brought Deejay home for him.”
“Do you mean for Mr. Baumgartner?” Caitlin asked.
Elizabeth nodded. “Yes. Mr. Baumgartner picked me up off the street a few times, and he treated me real nice. Then one day he said if I came home with him, he’d help me make a better life.” Her eyes bounced between Spense and Caitlin as if suddenly realizing she’d been given false promises of help before. From a man no doubt wearing an expensive suit, much like the one Spense had on now.
“We’re not like him, Elizabeth.” Spense pulled his creds from his wallet. “You see this? I’m with the FBI. This isn’t a fake ID. And Dr. Cassidy is a real doctor, a psychiatrist. We don’t want anything from you. We’re not promising help in exchange for favors. We’re just promising help.”
Her eyes held mistrust. “You want information. You want me to snitch on my friends.”
“Harvey Baumgartner was not your friend, Elizabeth. And even if you think he was, your loyalty won’t help him now. Think hard, and I know you’ll see you owe him nothing.” Spense leaned back and spread his arms over the back of the booth.
Elizabeth, looking only at Caitlin, continued. “I’m sorry—it’s just I trusted him, too, in the beginning. He was so nice to me. He gave me food and clothes, and he bought me so many things. Stuff I never had . . . he even bought me an iPhone. And Mrs. Baumgartner—she hired an interior decorator to help make our rooms, mine and Deejay’s, nice. She said our rooms should be fit for princesses. She said we were like the daughters she never had.”
That must’ve been before she’d dressed them in maids’ uniforms and set them to work in the kitchen. “Did Mrs. Baumgartner know what was going on?”
A lost look came over her face. “I’m not sure. She never said anything, and she never seemed angry at Mr. Baumgartner, so I thought she couldn’t know what he was doing to us in that room by his office. But then sometimes . . . I’d wonder why she didn’t ask more questions. Didn’t she wonder why the door was locked, and no one could come inside? Didn’t she wonder why he wanted us to be in the office with him for hours at a time? Sometimes I thought she ought to have known, and it had to be on purpose she didn’t see what was going on in her own house.”
“Elizabeth . . . what was going on in that house?”
“Bad things. Not at first. At first he was nice and gentle with me, a lot gentler than most of the johns from the street. But after a while, he started to hurt me. Pretty bad. It scared me when he would choke me, and sometimes I thought I was going to die. But then he’d let up and let me catch my breath, then do it all over again until he was finished. And it was hard for him to finish. It seemed like he had to hurt me more and more until eventually nothing was enough to get him off, and he’d punch me in the stomach and tell me it was my fault. I wasn’t sexy enough.”
“Why didn’t you leave, Elizabeth?”
“I had nowhere to go. On the streets, I didn’t know what they did to me. At least with him, I could remember the awful things he did. And if he killed me, at least I would be awake when it happened. But when I wasn’t enough for him anymore, I got so scared he really would kill me that I did something bad.”
Caitlin’s heart started to beat too fast, and she prayed Elizabeth had not been forced to participate in a murder.
“That’s when I helped him find, Deejay. She was my friend from the street. And I lied to her and promised her it would be so great at the big house in the hills. I told her Mr. Baumgartner was a good man, and he only wanted to help us. I lied to Deejay because I thought if he had two of us, we would be enough for him, and he wouldn’t need to hurt me so much to get off.” Her chin dipped to her chest. “I’m so sorry. I’m so ashamed.”
“You were scared, Elizabeth, we understand that. But now it’s over. Mr. Baumgartner can’t hurt you anymore.”
She shook her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “That’s why I’m here. Talking to you. Because it’s not over. I’ve got nowhere to go if I leave, and if I stay, it will never stop.”
A sickening feeling washed through her. “Someone is still hurting you, right now?”
Elizabeth nodded. She didn’t have to say a name. Harvey Baumgartner Junior was a man very like his father. He must’ve taken up where his old man left off. She knew it, but she waited for Elizabeth to tell her.
“Junior moved into the house after his father died. He said now Mr. Baumgartner is gone, Deejay and me belong to him.”
Caitlin tried to breathe through her anger, waiting to speak until she could do so in a calm voice. With a soft vibration, Spense’s cell rattled on the tabletop. He looked at it, then slapped down a twenty on the table. “No one is going to touch you again, Elizabeth. You have my word. I’m sending someone out to get Deejay, and you can both stay with my mother until we figure a safe place for you. It’s not the Ritz, but no one will lay a hand on you, and it’s a damn sight better than some social-services placement. We’ll drop you on the way.” He swept his gaze to Caitlin. “Herrera wants us at headquarters ASAP. There’s been a break in the Sally Cartwright case.”