Leila Simmons is already at the rest stop by the time we arrive, and the moment we park beside her, she opens her door and jumps out.
The rest stop has no exterior lights—not even a single lamp—but the half moon provides just enough light to see she’s wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt. Probably the first things she managed to grab after my phone call.
Leila leans down to see the person in the passenger seat, and as soon as she confirms it’s Eleanora, her eyes go wide as her hands shoot to her mouth. The next moment she rushes forward to open Eleanora’s door, reaching out to touch the girl’s face, like she can’t believe it’s truly her.
A flurry of Spanish ricochets back and forth—Leila asking Eleanora if she’s all right, if she thinks the baby’s okay, if she’s hurt, and Eleanora doing her best to answer before Leila lobs another question—and all the while Leila helps Eleanora from my car and walks her to the Jetta.
I step out and watch them without a word.
After Leila helps Eleanora into the passenger seat, she gently shuts the door and turns to me.
“I … I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
“How”—she pauses, shakes her head in wonder—“how did you do this?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
In the dark, I note a speck of confusion on her face but it quickly morphs to understanding.
“Were … those men there?”
I glance past her at Eleanora in the car. I figure Eleanora will probably tell her everything. Not only what happened between me and the two men, but what those men may have done to her after they abducted her. I’d tried asking Eleanora about her abduction, in case anybody else was involved, but she was exhausted once we made it back to the car, and I didn’t want to put any further stress on her.
“Is she an illegal?”
Leila says nothing. Which is all the answer I need.
“Then I’m going to assume you won’t report what happened to her. I would keep it that way.”
Understanding flicks across her face again.
“Those men—”
I cut her off.
“Are no longer going to be a problem.”
I pause, watching her in the dark, not wanting to ask the next question but knowing I have no other choice.
“Are there others?”
“Others?”
“Who were taken.”
She shakes her head, a deliberate back and forth.
“Not that I know of.”
My first impulse is to tell her to call if she hears of any other girls being abducted. Mulkey and Kyer can’t have been the only two running this particular racket. There are no doubt others, but … no, I can’t get involved in this. I’ve already done more than I should. I killed two men tonight, and while I’ve killed several in the past, that was a different life. I’m no longer that person, and I can’t risk any further exposure.
When I realize Leila Simmons is waiting for me to speak, I softly clear my throat.
“Good.”
I wait another beat, and then tilt my chin at the car.
“Take care of her.”
Leila Simmons nods.
“I will.”
I don’t tell her to call if she needs anything else. I don’t tell her that the phone I’d called her on will be stripped apart and its pieces scattered along the highway. That as far as this woman is concerned she’s never going to see me again. I don’t tell her any of that, because I think she’s smart enough to figure it out, just as she’s smart enough to know she needs to be the one to leave first.
Leila doesn’t say anything else. She just looks at me one last time before climbing into her car.
Eleanora twists in her seat when Leila pulls out of the rest stop, the girl raising her hand goodbye.
I don’t bother returning the gesture. I don’t even acknowledge her with a nod. Because I can’t invest any further time in the girl or the woman. It may sound harsh, but they’re strangers to me, and that’s all they’ll ever be.
The Jetta accelerates as it heads west, its taillights a dim red before fading completely.
I wait there for another minute, listening to the silence of the night, the distant chorus of insects calling from the desert, before I slip into my car and head back to the place I’ve come to think of as home.