27

Avery turned into the winding streets of the Chu’s pricey neighborhood with Tory beside her in the passenger seat and winced at the movement of her arm as it pulled against the stitches. The doctor had warned her that she’d be sore for the next few days, but also promised that once her arm healed and her headache vanished, she’d be as good as new. A diagnosis that was going to have to be enough for now. Because she wasn’t going to step away until she had answers.

She pulled alongside the curb in front of the Chu house, but didn’t turn off the engine.

Tory turned to Avery and caught her gaze. “You okay?”

Avery concentrated on the steady blast of cool air from the air conditioner before answering, knowing Tory must have caught the fatigue still lingering in her eyes. Despite the continual roadblocks her team faced in this case—now complicated further with this morning’s attack—she nodded. She could do this.

“My head hurts and my arm is still sore, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

Avery shut off the engine and pulled out the keys. “If I’m not feeling better by the end of the day, I promise to rest tomorrow.”

“Okay, but I can still call Mitch or Carlos and have them track down this lead with me.”

“I appreciate the offer, but let’s do this.”

Avery glanced behind her as she and Tory exited the car and headed up the drive toward the Chus’ brick and stone exterior house. Her latest shadow parked in front of the neighboring house, compliments of the captain. She’d expected Mitch and Jackson to insist on continuing their roles as bodyguards, but apparently they weren’t the only ones who believed she needed extra protection. Now it had become official.

She could talk to the captain later about the necessity of spending department resources on her, but if she were perfectly honest, last night’s break-in had her flustered as well. And until they could confirm who had broken in and what his connection was, being cautious might not be such a bad idea.

An Asian woman answered the door—thirtysomething, thin, and well dressed in a skirt and pleated blouse. But Avery didn’t miss the frazzled, almost frantic edge to her appearance, as if she were in a hurry to get somewhere.

Avery held up her badge and introduced them. “Mrs. Chu?”

“Yes? I . . . is there a problem?” Mrs. Chu reached up to smooth her short, dark hair, her gaze darting behind Avery.

“We’re not sure. I received a call about forty minutes ago, and we were able to trace it back to your phone.”

She shook her head. “You must have made a mistake. I haven’t made any calls this morning.”

“Does someone else in the house have access to your phone?”

“No . . . I always keep my phone with me.” Mrs. Chu turned and spoke to someone inside the house in Vietnamese.

The little boy who had answered the door on Thursday appeared a moment later with a large bag. Mrs. Chu dug through the contents. “I don’t understand. It’s not here.”

“Mrs. Chu, I was here two days ago and spoke to a young woman. Perhaps she used your phone. I gave her my card and asked her to call if she thought of anything else. She said her name was Malaya.”

“You spoke to Malaya?” A shadow crossed the woman’s features. “I’m sorry, but she isn’t here. It’s just my son and I.”

“Mrs. Chu, we can’t emphasize enough how urgent it is that we speak to her, especially if she was the one who tried to contact me this morning.” Avery’s voice softened as she took a step forward and attempted to connect with the woman. “If we could come in and speak with you for a few minutes, you might be able to help us.”

The woman clutched the purse against her chest. “I don’t know.”

“If it was Malaya who called, she might have information on a murder we are investigating,” Avery continued. “She’s not in any kind of trouble. We simply need to ask her some questions. Please, Mrs. Chu. This is extremely important.”

This time, clearly, it was fear that flickered in the woman’s eyes. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Then just answer this, please. Do you know where Malaya is?”

“No, she . . . she’s gone.”

The little boy, Teo, pressed in against his mother. “You’re the police who came here yesterday.”

Avery knelt down so she could talk to him at eye level. “Yes, I am, and we are looking for your friend, Malaya. Do you know where she is?”

All traces of the boy’s smile vanished as he shook his head. He looked up at his mother. “No, but I know she wanted to talk to you.”

“Teo, I don’t want—”

“How do you know she wanted to talk to me?” Avery jumped in before his mother had a chance to stop him.

The boy dropped his gaze.

“It’s okay, Teo. Malaya might be in trouble, which means that it is very important that you tell me what happened.”

Teo pressed his lips together tightly for a moment before speaking. “It . . . it was our secret. I am teaching her English and how to use the phone—”

“Teo.” Mrs. Chu turned back to Avery. “Maybe if you came back later, she would be able to speak to you.”

Teo shook his head. “What if she doesn’t come back? What if the man took her?”

Avery’s stomach cinched. Another young Vietnamese girl was missing. It fit a pattern. The pattern of a serial killer. At least two girls were dead, and if their killer had taken Malaya, the chance of finding her alive was diminishing with every minute that passed. There was no time for search warrants or excuses. They were going to have to get Mrs. Chu to realize the importance of her cooperation.

“Mrs. Chu, I need you to understand that this is a murder investigation. If you know something and withhold that evidence, then you also need to realize that you could be prosecuted. And if that isn’t enough to convince you to help us, if someone has taken Malaya, then there is a very good chance that her life is in danger.”

“I’m sorry. I told you the truth when I said that I don’t know where she is.”

“Mrs. Chu, let us come in and talk to you. Please. I need to know everything that happened.”

Tory turned to Avery. “Can I try?”

Avery nodded. Her head pounded, and while Tory spoke to the woman in the clipped sounds of Vietnamese, Avery tried not to imagine the worst-case scenario.

Finally the woman nodded, then turned to her son. “Teo, there are some cookies in the kitchen cupboard behind the peanut butter. Why don’t you get three or four, then go color in your room.”

“But I—”

“Now, Teo.”

Tory turned to Avery while Mrs. Chu tended to her son. “She’s scared, but she does know something. I’m not sure if it is related to Malaya disappearing, but something is going on.”

A minute later they were sitting in the living room, decorated primarily in reds and yellows with heavy teakwood furniture. “Thank you for letting us in and talking with us.”

“I don’t want to be responsible for something happening to Malaya.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. I . . . I should have called the police, but I didn’t know what to do.”

“Just tell us what happened, Mrs. Chu. Did someone take her?”

“I honestly don’t know. On Saturdays, Malaya always has breakfast ready between eight and eight thirty, but this morning, when I came downstairs to get my coffee, she wasn’t here.”

“And that’s unusual?”

“Yes. Because I could tell she’d been up for a while. The coffee was brewing in the pot like always, but breakfast wasn’t made. On Saturdays, she sometimes fixes an American breakfast like pancakes—something I taught her how to make—but typically it’s more traditional, like rice porridge or noodles.”

“And today?” Avery probed.

“Today, when I came downstairs, like I said, I couldn’t find her. Teo had asked for pancakes, so there was a box of the mix on the counter.”

Avery looked toward the gourmet kitchen that opened up to the living room. A box of Aunt Jemima pancake mix sat on the black granite counter beside a bowl and a couple of measuring cups. “Tell me what happened next.”

“I heard a crash outside. I told Teo to stay in the house, then I went to see what had happened. I thought maybe the trash can had rolled into the street and someone had hit it. I forgot to bring it in last night.”

“And when you got out there?”

“The trash can was out by the street, tipped over on its side, but there was no sign of Malaya . . .”

Avery frowned. “People don’t simply vanish.”

Either Malaya left on her own . . . or someone had taken her.

“I spent thirty minutes walking up and down the street. I couldn’t find her.”

“Did you see anything? A strange car, or someone walking down the street?”

Mrs. Chu closed her eyes for a moment. “There was a car I didn’t recognize when I went outside, but that’s not unusual.”

“Do you remember what it looked like?”

“It had . . . dark, tinted windows. That’s why I noticed it.” She shook her head. “Besides that, I don’t remember.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?”

Mrs. Chu dropped her gaze and started picking at one of her dark red fingernails that matched the pleated blouse. The woman was afraid.

“Mrs. Chu?” Avery prompted.

“You won’t understand.”

“I can try.”

“My husband is gone on a business trip. If he finds out that she has run away . . . he will be very upset.”

“Why?” Avery asked.

“Having full-time help isn’t cheap. And finding someone isn’t easy.”

“So you haven’t told your husband Malaya is missing?”

“No.”

“And you believe she ran away?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where would she go? Does she have friends or family nearby?”

“No family, but friends . . . yes. Of course she has friends.”

“Can you give me their names?”

“Maybe.” She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Avery handed her a business card with her numbers on it. “I need you to try and get me their contact information. In the meantime, why do you think she might have run away?”

“I don’t know. I thought . . .” She sounded lost. Flustered. “I thought she was happy.”

Avery leaned forward on the contemporary-styled black sofa. “Do you have a photo of Malaya?”

“I think so . . . at Teo’s birthday party last month.” Her hands shook as she reached for a box sitting on the bottom shelf of the coffee table. “He adores her and asked for her to come.”

“How old is Teo?”

“He just turned six.”

“He said that someone took her. Why did he say that?”

“He doesn’t think she would leave without saying good-bye, so to him I guess it makes sense that someone took her.” She opened the box and began flipping through photos. “I haven’t had time to organize them. I’m sorry . . . Here.”

Mrs. Chu handed the four-by-six photo to Tory, who studied it for a moment, then passed it on to Avery. Malaya stood beside Teo, his arms wrapped around her neck. Thin face, soft features . . . the girl was beautiful.

“So, Malaya isn’t family?” Tory continued.

“No . . . I needed some extra help at home, so when my husband heard about a chance where we could get a girl who could work for us, we decided to hire her. I also didn’t want Teo to lose his Vietnamese. She speaks to him and takes care of him when I’m out. I spend a lot of time volunteering and doing fund-raising for charity.”

“Tell me more about Malaya. How long has she been working for you?”

Mrs. Chu gripped the yellow tassels of the throw pillow she’d pulled into her lap. “For about three months.”

“Does she have papers allowing her to work in the country?”

“Yes, of course. My husband took care of everything.”

“We will need to see her INS documentation and talk to your husband as well.”

“He’s on a flight back to Atlanta later this evening. He’ll be able to provide you with what you need.”

“I assume she lives here with you.”

“Yes.”

“Do you mind if we look at her room before we leave?”

“I . . .” Mrs. Chu glanced toward the staircase. “Like I said, my husband will be able to provide you with what you need when he returns.”

Avery bit back a heated response. If they needed to, she’d come back with a search warrant. “I just have one last question before we go, Mrs. Chu. Does Malaya have a tattoo?”

“Yes, on her shoulder. Some kind of white flower.”

A magnolia.

Avery stood and started for the door beside Tory. “If we have further questions, we will be in touch with you. And in the meantime, I would file a missing persons report with the police station.”

A minute later, Avery and Tory stepped out of the air-conditioning and back into the humid Georgia air. “So what do you think?”

“That she’s more concerned about how her husband will react than the well-being of a young girl.”

Avery sensed Tory was right, there was an ugly picture beginning to emerge. “She doesn’t want us to look at Malaya’s room or documents, doesn’t have contact info for any of her friends, no English or phone use . . .”

“Just like Tala. Which means we’re probably looking at more than a serial killer case.”

Avery nodded. “Girls brought into the country illegally and forced to work.”

Long hours. Little or no pay. She wanted to believe that such scenarios only happened in faraway places on the other side of the world, but she knew that wasn’t true. The United States wasn’t immune to human slavery any more than she was going to be immune to this winter’s flu season. But they needed proof to back up their growing concerns.

Tory slid into the passenger seat beside Avery. “If they are keeping illegal girls and using them as domestic slaves, it would explain why the Sourns are lying. Facing the possibility of stiff fines and even prison time gives them more than enough motivation to keep things hidden. What we don’t know is why—or who—is targeting these girls.”

“Maybe because they are vulnerable and have nowhere to go.” Avery started the car and headed back toward the precinct. “Clearly, Mrs. Chu didn’t want Malaya using the phone or learning English.”

“Do you think she took the phone and ran?”

“Teo could have helped her against his mother’s wishes. Knowing how to use a cell phone and speak a few phrases of English could have been her key to escape.”

Tory pulled out her laptop. “In the meantime, if Malaya still has the phone, we can try to track her location.”

“Do it.”

Because if they didn’t find her soon, there was a good chance they wouldn’t find her alive.