23

Tyler

Saturday, January 7

Tyler still needed to have the talk with Katherine. But when he and Brandon had arrived home last night, the house had been quiet. The kids were in bed and Katherine’s bedroom door was closed, the lights off, so he’d figured she was sleeping, too. It could wait until morning.

After feeding the younger ones bowls of cereal and packing them off to watch cartoons, Tyler planned to wake Katherine and get to the bottom of this. He glanced at his phone sitting on the kitchen counter. There were messages on his voice mail.

Christina, Christina, Christina. He scrolled past them to the next message. His heart jolted. Lana. According to his call log, she had called around 4:00 AM, which meant it would have been 1:00 AM her time. “Hi, Tyler, it’s me. I know I haven’t called all week. I’ve just been…I don’t know…trying to get set up here—starting the new job and all. I was busy and…well, I just needed to think without talking to you or the kids. Anyway, I’m here. I’m safe. All is well. I don’t know if you’ll want to talk to me or not, but if you do, you can call me at this number. I’m staying with Erin until I find a place. OK…I guess I’ll talk to you later…maybe?”

No questions about him or the kids. All about her. As usual.

Clenching his teeth together, Tyler slammed his phone down on the counter. He still couldn’t believe she had done this. Grasping at his hair, a sound of anger and frustration bubbled up and out of his throat.

“What’s wrong, Dad?” Micah called from the family room.

Tyler repressed more outbursts. “Nothing. Everything’s fine.”

He would have to look into some kind of child care for the kids. He couldn’t keep relying on his parents, the neighbors, or his older kids. What a mess. He was suddenly furious with Lana.

A knock at the door roused him from his angry musings. Dread raised its ugly head as he approached it. Through the beveled glass of the door, he could see a female form. Abbie Jackson.

He opened the door. Her thin smile was eclipsed by the lines on her forehead.

“Hi, Tyler. I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday morning.”

“That’s OK. What’s up?”

“Can I come in for a sec?”

Tyler stood back from the door. He sensed a different vibe from her than their polite coffee shop chit-chat. She was here for something serious. His heart caught in his throat. God, help me. Whatever it is, give me the strength to bear it.

“I spoke with your ex-wife this morning, and she told me that Katherine was at your house. Is she here? I need to speak to her as well.”

“She’s sleeping, but I’ll go get her.” Tyler moved upstairs, his chest heavy. Katherine was in trouble now. It was as though a vortex of misfortune swirled over his house.

Opening the door, Tyler couldn’t remember the last time he had been in his daughter’s room. The first thought that swept through his mind was how clean and neat everything looked—almost as if no one lived there. Or like a room used for sleeping and nothing else—a temporary crash pad. The second thought was that the bed was made. He stared at Katherine’s empty bed.

Tyler went back downstairs and peered out the front door. Katherine’s car was still there. “Her car’s here but she’s not. One of her friends may have picked her up, or she may be over with the neighbors.”

He quickly called Molly. Katherine was not over there. Scratching his head, he sat down across from Abbie. “She may have had some school thing this morning or shopping with her mom or something. Who knows? Teenagers, you know.”

He hadn’t even known she’d had a boyfriend—and he didn’t know what she was involved in nowadays. There had simply been too many other things going on.

Abbie looked at him, her gaze somber and all business. “I really need to speak with her. I already talked to your ex-wife. Katherine’s not with her. And I need to speak with you, too.”

The messages from Christina on his phone. A familiar falling sensation assaulted him. Brandon’s words about Katherine’s boyfriend simultaneously returned to him. His mouth felt dry. “What’s going on?”

“We think your daughter may be involved with a guy named Damien Rosas-Diego. Know him?”

Tyler shook his head.

Abbie removed a photograph from her bag and held it up for Tyler to see. “This is him.”

Tyler’s skin pimpled with chills. He stared directly into the face of evil. Black hair and black eyes—like those of a viper. A black T-shirt with the emblem of a dragon matched the tattoo on his neck.

“Ever seen him before?”

“No.” Tyler was barely able to breathe the word. “I don’t think so.”

Abbie put the photo back in the folder. “He’s not someone you want your daughter entangled with. He has quite an impressive rap sheet. Drugs, assault, a list of gang-related crimes.”

“He’s in a gang?”

“Yes. He’s a ring-leader in the Masters of Sin.”

Tyler nodded his head. Was he having a heart attack? He couldn’t breathe. Something pressed in on his chest.

“They’re local. Wreaking havoc all over this area and in the area schools as well.”

“I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend.”

“Tyler, he’s not her boyfriend. He’s her pimp. This is all about teen sex trafficking. That’s their game.”

“What?” His heart might explode any moment. No. No, this could not be happening. Brandon had tried to tell him.

Abbie removed another picture from her file. “Ever seen this girl?”

A girl about Kaki’s age with long, black hair and a nose piercing frowned in the photo.

“Never seen her before.”

“Her name is Sydney Diaz. Also a member of Masters of Sin. One of their bottom girls. You know what that means?”

Tyler shook his head.

“It means she recruited other girls for the gang—for purposes of prostitution.”

Each word Abbie spoke entered Tyler’s brain like the stab of a knife. He thought he might die from the agony. His little girl, his Kaki…a prostitute?

“Sydney Diaz is missing. From what we understand, Sydney and Katherine were friends. Close friends. We think Katherine might know something about Sydney’s disappearance.”

“What would make you think that?” His voice didn’t even sound like his own.

“Because they were both at the party the night Sydney disappeared.”

“What party?”

Abbie lifted more photographs from her file. “Saturday, December the tenth. Both your daughter and your son were in photos from that night. All taken on various kids’ cell phones.”

She handed him the print outs of the photographs, and he sifted through them, his insides flinching with each sighting of his children. This was the party Brandon had talked about. Oh, God. Please. How can this be happening?

“This wasn’t just any party, Tyler. This was a prostitution party where kids come in by paying a $20 or $30 cover charge. This covers their booze, their drugs, and it covers their access to the girls—if you understand my meaning.”

He understood all too well. Brandon had talked about it. It was why he had run away.

“Despite what you might think, these kinds of parties are not all together uncommon. We’re seeing them more and more, especially in circles where gang-activity is involved.”

Tyler struggled to understand how his children had become involved. “How did this happen?”

“I wish I could tell you. These gang members are smart, and they know how to manipulate young people. You’ve got infiltration within the schools—recruiters—often times their own peers—are very savvy to the girls who will fall for the lure of acceptance, the coolness factor.”

“Katherine has never been involved with anything bad. She grew up knowing right from wrong. She’s always been a great student.” Tyler wasn’t sure if he was telling Abbie or himself.

Abbie’s face dripped with sympathy. “This spans all demographics, all socio-economic groups, and all upbringings. These people are good at what they do. Deception and manipulation are their specialties.”

“What do you need me to do?”

“We need to talk to Katherine. We’ve paid a visit to the boy’s parents whose house was used for the party. He’s being questioned as we speak. The problem is that several weeks have passed. The kids who were there that night have been really good about keeping tight-lipped. Even if they saw something, it’ll be dangerous for them to say anything. MOS members don’t mess around. They’re murderers as well as pimps, make no mistake.”

His daughter was in danger. Tyler shuddered, his heart breaking into a million pieces. Some protective father he’d proved to be.

“Sydney’s mother didn’t report her daughter as missing until she’d already been gone for two weeks. That’s not uncommon for parents of prostituted girls. If they’ve been running the streets for a while, the parents are used to them running away. They stop reporting it. But Katherine’s been living in your house all this time. She’s been able to hide her activities—which in some ways, is almost more insidious. At any rate, something bad happened in that house that night. I think Katherine might know what it was.”

“But if it’s dangerous for her to talk—”

“Our goal is to get these guys and put them in jail. Drugs, prostitution…murder—whatever charge we can get them on.”

The main thing was to protect his kids. Nothing else mattered. “OK. You tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“Let’s start by finding Katherine.”