––––––––
Anthemhead was a town about halfway between Canyon City and Phoenix. It also had the closest pharmacy that carried the morning after pill.
The whole trip should’ve taken me two hours, tops. I’d made sure to buy a box of condoms while paying at the register. The paper bag of my purchases sat in my passenger seat as I drove back toward the interstate. My eyes skimmed over the signs by the road, every one of them typical advertisements of a smallish desert town. But one of them made me take a second look.
True North Healing Clinic.
I frowned behind my aviator sunglasses. “True North,” I recited to myself. A string of recognition vibrated in my mind. Wasn’t that what Lisbeth’s gang called themselves?
I flicked on my turn signal and made a U-turn.
The sign pointed toward an old adobe building that looked as benign as a doctor’s office. I parked in the mostly empty lot and slid out to walk toward the shade of the building. There was a bulletin board by the double-door entrance pinned with fliers for church organizations, methadone clinics, and drug rehab centers.
Find God’s plan for you at True North Healing Clinic, read the largest flier of all. Below the title was a list of dates and times, apparently for support group meetings. The next one was in fifteen minutes.
I took a step back to study the entire building once more, shading my eyes. Then, I heard the crunch of tires rolling through the crumbled asphalt. I turned around just in time to watch a twenty-year-old Buick slide to a stop right beside my car.
A man wearing a chef’s coat got out of the driver’s side. Half of my mind urged me to run while the other half fought to keep me there to investigate further. So naturally, I just froze in place, unsure of what to do.
The man slammed his door shut. “Are you here for the meeting?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“You must be new.” His face suddenly broke out into a wide smile. “It’s normal to be nervous on your first time.”
I breathed an inward sigh of relief as the man made his way toward me. With his soft, gray hair and wrinkly smile, he had a sort of grandfatherly look about him. I accepted his handshake and introduced myself.
“I’m Father Alan,” he said.
“Father Alan?” I said, confused.
He glanced down at himself and chuckled sheepishly. “Oh, of course. I still have to change. My organization is short on funding, so I’ve picked up all sorts of odd jobs to make ends meet.”
I smiled guiltily, unable to come up with the right thing to say. Suddenly, my life’s problems seemed petty compared to the stuff Father Alan must’ve had to deal with.
“Why don’t you come inside? You can help me set up the refreshments.”
“Ah—well—” I stared helplessly after him as he began making his way toward the building. “Okay.”
I watched as he unlocked the doors and ushered me inside. The interior was very generic looking with a beige tile floor, fluorescent lighting, and vertical blinds on the windows. Tables were folded and propped against the cinderblock walls. The only other furnishing was a circle of chairs in the middle of the room.
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Father Alan began.
I followed him into a small, adjacent office. “Um...well...I’m not really into sharing details about myself,” I said pathetically.
“That’s fine. I understand. You’ll find that a lot of women here have trust issues. Everybody is free to open up on their own time,” he said. He began undoing the white buttons of his coat. “Have a seat. I just need a minute.”
I lowered myself into a padded chair, trying to think of a graceful way to leave. Several excuses floated around in my mind, each one of them embarrassingly ridiculous. Father Alan circled around a cluttered desk, removing his chef’s coat as he went.
I directed my eyes to a motivational poster, blushing fiercely. He wore a plain white tee shirt under the coat, but it still felt wrong to sit idly in a room while a man of God undressed himself.
“So, what do you do here?” I asked.
“I mediate the support group, mostly.”
I dared to probe further. “Is the support group for just a certain type of person?”
Father Alan opened a squeaky cabinet. “In theory, yes. Female heroin addicts. But we have a wide variety of women. Mothers, widows, doctors, postal workers. Even prostitutes.”
My mind instantly drew up an image of Lisbeth. I recognized pieces of her in this place, in Father Alan, like a bloodhound picking up scent notes scattered throughout the environment. True North. Heroin. Prostitutes. But I struggled to piece them all together. I peeked back at Father Alan just in time to see him holding a black shirt by its collar.
I gasped.
Father Alan looked at me in surprise. “Pardon?”
I stood up. “I should go,” I said quickly.
“But the meeting—”
I rushed out of the office. At least I didn’t have to worry about finding an excuse to leave. I discovered that a handful of women had already arrived as I passed through the meeting room. They watched me curiously as I whipped toward the exit.
I pushed at the door and heard a cry of alarm as it hit someone on the other side.
“Oh, god, I’m sorry!” I said quickly. I stepped out to get a good look at the person I’d hit. “Lisbeth?”
“Carmen?”
Her expression told me that she was equally as surprised to see me as I was, only her surprise was also mixed with the sheer terror of being caught. So much blood drained from her face that even her lips turned white.
“What are you doing here?”
“I—well—I mean—”
I narrowed my eyes. “I know this place is connected to the gang you’re running from, Lisbeth.”
Lisbeth took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. This is a support group.”
I snatched her arm. “Then, why does the mediator have this same exact tattoo?”
Her long sleeves covered the compass on her arm, but at this point I knew exactly what it looked like. I stared pointedly at the spot where her tattoo should have been and could easily recall the image of its twin on Father Alan.
Lisbeth’s head jerked back. “You...you met Father Alan?”
Several car doors slammed in succession in the parking lot. My eyes snapped away from Lisbeth’s face just long enough to watch a few more women making their way toward the meeting.
I dropped my voice to a whisper. “I was with him in his office when he changed into his clergy shirt. I saw it on his arm.”
Lisbeth’s eyes widened, flicking back and forth between mine. I knew she was trying to come up with an explanation, and I knew she was failing miserably.
“He’s not really a minister, is he? What is this place, Lisbeth? Is there really a support group happening here?”
“Yes, there really is!” Lisbeth said. Her eyes shone with desperation. She flashed a quick smile at the three women who edged past us to get inside, but it disappeared just as quickly once the door shut behind them. “Okay, you caught me. I didn’t tell you the full truth, but you cannot stay.”
“Why can’t I?”
“Because it’s dangerous for you here!”
“Then, it’s dangerous for you, too.”
Lisbeth shook her head. “You don’t know anything, Carmen.” She said it firmly, defiantly. All of her guilt over being caught was gone. “You have to go.”
My hand finally fell away from her arm. I tried to soften myself. “How can I leave you here, Lisbeth?”
Lisbeth’s glare flickered. “I’ll tell you everything once I get back to town, okay? But you have to go now.”
My gaze passed over her shoulder to the bulletin board. How many of those church organizations were real?
“Fine,” I finally said. “But be careful.”
“I will,” Lisbeth said. She crossed her arms, standing her ground as she waited for me to leave.
I was halfway across the lot before she called out her next words.
“Oh, and don’t tell Logan anything this time.”
I winced at her accusatory tone.
* * *
I cracked open the door to Xander’s room for about the fiftieth time that night.
“Don’t worry, Mom, I’m still here,” he said. He didn’t even bother to look up at me from his book.
I laughed nervously. “I’m sorry, buddy. I guess I’m a little on edge.”
I closed the door and padded softly to the kitchen. Lisbeth had texted me hours ago, claiming she’d be on her way soon. I’d watched the sky darken from blue to pink to starry-black since then. Where was she?
I spent ten minutes scrubbing grime off the stove when I finally heard it: the wheeze and sigh of a car sliding into my driveway. Headlights shone through the window and moved across my living room wall. A car door slammed, and Lisbeth’s silhouette appeared through the frosted glass of my front door.
“Come on in,” I said as I opened the door.
She shouldered past me into the kitchen and sat down at the table. “Before I tell you everything, you have to tell me what you were doing in Anthemhead.”
I blushed. “I had to go to the pharmacy there,” was all I said.
Lisbeth gave me an incredulous look. “Then, tell me what you were doing at the healing clinic.”
I felt my defenses go up immediately. Logan had warned me that this might happen. Lisbeth wanted to find out how much I knew so she could build up a lie that made sense. I needed to derail her somehow.
“Healing clinic?” I said. “Do you think I’m still going to believe that after what I saw?”
“It is a healing clinic,” she said.
“Here’s what I think,” I began. “Maybe the healing clinic is real, but you and Father Alan are not. I think he’s some sort of higher up in the gang, and he’s recruiting broken, vulnerable women from the support group.”
Lisbeth’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Sounds like you’ve had a conversation with Logan,” she spat.
“The question is,” I continued on, “why are you helping him?”
Lisbeth avoided my gaze and stared at my toaster instead. I dragged out the chair next to hers and sat down.
“You told me you did something bad,” I said. “You said they were looking for you. I kept your secret from Liam because I thought it’d keep you safe, but what’s the use if none of that is true?”
Lisbeth looked at me in surprise. “You can’t tell Liam.”
“What else am I supposed to do? I have no idea what kind of danger you’re in.”
“Can’t you just trust me to look out for myself?”
“I can’t trust you at all, Lisbeth.”
She sat back and gaped. Apparently, I’d struck a nerve.
“If I tell you the truth, will you promise not to tell Liam?” she said in a small voice.
“It has to be the whole truth.”
Lisbeth nodded. A knocking sound came out of another room, and her eyes narrowed. “What was that?”
“My kid. He’s in his room. Don’t worry, he can’t hear us.”
She eased back down and listened as the next few seconds ticked by in silence. Seemingly satisfied, she placed her hands on the table and played with the sleeves of her shirt. “I don’t know where to start.”
“How about you start by telling me what part of your story is true?” I said.
Lisbeth rolled her eyes. “Fine. When I ran away from home two years ago, I got into drugs. That part was true. But then, I got hooked, and it wasn’t so great anymore. That’s when a friend of a friend told me about True North Healing Clinic.”
“In Anthemhead?”
“No. The one I went to was in Vegas. I thought it was just a regular support group. I wasn’t into the whole Jesus thing, but it just made the people there seem like they actually cared, so I bought into it.”
“But it was a front, right?”
Lisbeth shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “That’s right.”
“So, I’m confused. You told me that you were kidnapped and forced into prostitution.”
“Yeah. I lied about that.”
“Instead, you walked willingly into it.”
“No!” Lisbeth said quickly. “There was nothing willing about it. I started going to meetings. I wanted to get cleaned up. I even made a friend there. Her name was Anna. But Anna wasn’t as committed to recovery as I was, and she kept inviting me over to shoot up with her. She finally convinced me and I started getting hooked again, just like that.” She snapped her fingers.
I pressed my hands into the table, trying to steady myself as rage bubbled up inside of me. I felt so much anger toward Lisbeth for lying to me, toward Anna for getting her back on drugs. I also sensed there was more to Lisbeth’s story, and something told me that it was about to get worse.
“Go on,” I said, closing my eyes.
“Anna’s stuff was...amazing. And it was expensive. I was broke though, and it wasn’t long before I used up all my good favors. I got myself in deep shit and I thought they were going to kill me. But that’s when Anna told me that she had a special agreement worked out with the dealer, and she could get me in on it, too.”
I covered my mouth. Nausea tingled in my jaw, in my fingertips, but I kept quiet. I needed to hear all of it. I needed Lisbeth to admit everything.
Her steady voice began cracking. “I didn’t know it at the time, but Anna was part of the gang. It was so scary, Carmen. I was supposed to meet her one day at the dealer’s house, but she never showed. These guys came with a tattoo kit and held me down while they inked me. I had no idea what was going on. They took all my stuff and put me out on the street to make—”
“Okay!” I interrupted. “I get it. No need to go into detail. Just skip to the part where you got away.”
Lisbeth sighed. Her thin shoulders trembled under her flimsy cotton tee shirt. “There’s more to it than that.”
I closed my eyes, aggravated. Had there been any truth to Lisbeth’s story? “All right. Then tell me the rest of it.”
Lisbeth turned her face downward. “About a month ago, the dealer was expecting a new shipment. Anna and a few other guys decided to hijack it and run away to Phoenix.”
“Why?” I asked.
Lisbeth shook her head. “They wanted to sell it on the streets, split up the cash, and disappear. It seemed like the only way they could break off from the gang. But it was a pipe dream. It was stupid.”
“Don’t tell me you were involved with them.”
“I wasn’t. I was scared, to be honest. But when the dealer found out what happened, he was suspicious of me because Anna and I were so close. Without Anna, I had nobody, so I ran the first chance I got. I took a bus to Phoenix. Then, I took a taxi.” Her blue eyes rose from her lap to lock onto mine. “And I came to you.”
I recalled that stormy evening, the solitary light of the taxi in the parking lot, Lisbeth wandering in from the storm like a lost kitten, dripping in her fleece. I’d been blissfully ignorant back then, no thoughts of violent gangs or FBI agents plaguing me. It felt like lifetimes had passed since then. I reached across the table for her hand.
“And I’m glad you did,” I said. “But what I still don’t understand is what you were doing at the clinic in Anthemhead. I thought you were hiding from them.”
“I was. I am.” Lisbeth turned her palms up toward the ceiling and extended her arms. She was showing me that her tattoo was hidden. “The True North gang is huge. Father Alan and I have never met. He has no idea that I used to work for them.”
I struggled to understand why she was going to the meetings. “If you’re not helping him recruit new prostitutes...”
Lisbeth raised her head. “I’ve been going back to tap into the network. I’m trying to find Anna.”
My body went cold. “Right under the nose of the gang you’re hiding from. That’s risky, Lizzie.”
She nodded. “I know. And it hasn’t been easy, trust me. Most of the girls are trying to make a change and aren’t too keen on talking about their drug-fueled pasts. A lot of them also have trust issues. But I think I finally made a breakthrough.”
“Really?”
Lisbeth beamed, suddenly bright with hope. “Really. Anna mentioned a drop house in Phoenix once or twice, and today, I finally got an address.”
There it was. The truth was finally out. Lisbeth’s gaze was strong and proud. I thought I could see a glimpse of the woman she could become one day.
“What’s wrong?” she said, catching the sadness behind my smile.
Just then, a door creaked open in the hallway. Lisbeth and I both turned to look. She was probably expecting Xander, but I held my breath as I waited for Logan to turn the corner. Despite her request to leave him out of it, calling Logan had been my first move when I made it back into town.
He’d gotten to my house an hour before Lisbeth and had been listening in from my bedroom.
“I have to tell you something,” I began as two long shadows stretched along the hallway...
Two?
Lisbeth gasped as Logan appeared, but he wasn’t alone. It was my turn to be surprised when I recognized the second figure standing behind him.