a percentage to Miami, but otherwise he runs his own organization

  throughout the Middle South and Southwest. Why it’s based here is

  anybody’s guess. He’s got people as far east as Atlanta and as far west

  as Amarillo. Rumor has it that something recently happened to his

  brother, and now he’s trying to go legit. But I’m not buying.

  “Your friend Sam can fill you in on his local connections—they’re

  surprisingly good. Sam’s been able to limit his activities a bit, but he’s

  pretty much untouchable. His major sources of income are gambling

  and prostitution—he has an unlimited pipeline of girls coming in

  from eastern europe. His recruiters promise them work, husbands,

  and the American dream. When they get here, he makes sure they

  end up totally dependent on drugs and on him. He doesn’t care how

  old they are or where they end up— they’re just business to him.

  Makes the Godfather look like a fairy godmother.

  “So, yeah, you should be worried about Novak. But I don’t see any

  connection with the professor. Novak doesn’t normally deal in mari-

  juana except as an accommodation. If it were heroin, prescription

  drugs, or white powder, maybe—but not weed. Novak makes really

  good money supplying heroin to his patrons when they run out of

  painkillers. Any kid on a corner can get weed. It’s not worth the risk

  to Novak, not enough profit.”

  Moira followed, “Novak will order a kill at the drop of a hat. He has

  a rep as far north as Detroit. You don’t need to cross him, Jack.”

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  tuESdAy MoRNING

  April 22, 2014

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  20

  D

  When I stepped out of the cab at Hodges Air Center early the next

  morning, Walter’s plane was gassed up and ready to go. Clovis didn’t

  approve of my transportation choice. He wanted one of his men to

  drive me to the airport—didn’t like taking chances, but I insisted. No

  sense having one of his men get up that early. I dozed to the hum of

  the engines during the flight, and woke a couple of hours later as we

  landed in DC.

  A twenty-minute Metro ride landed me in my office, drinking good

  coffee and going through my e-mails. Maggie walked in carrying a cup

  of tea, and I was about to fill her in on my week when Rose knocked

  abruptly.

  “Clovis Jones is on line one. He said I should interrupt you.” Rose

  looked worried.

  “Clovis, what’s up? I’ve got Maggie on speaker.”

  “Are you both sitting down? I mean it—I want you to sit down.”

  Maggie carefully put her cup on the corner of my desk. We both knew

  this couldn’t be good. “Micki’s disappeared–we’re not sure, but we

  think she may have been kidnapped.”

  Maggie put her hands to her mouth in shock. I heard myself yelling

  at Clovis, demanding answers, demanding action. He waited until I

  ran out of steam.

  “Jack, you need to calm down. You need to listen. Here’s what we

  know. Micki spent last night at eric’s. I had Charlie Yates, one of Paul’s

  guys, watching the townhouse, figured Micki would never know.

  When Charlie didn’t call in this morning, Paul went to eric’s place

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  and found Charlie lying in the bushes, barely alive. Paul rushed into

  the house—the porch door was open. The place was a mess, no sign

  of either Micki or eric.”

  “okay. I’m calm now.” Deep breaths. “When did all this happen?”

  “Had to have been right after your plane took off. We found eric

  working his eR shift at the hospital. He said Micki was in the shower

  when he left. He’s being questioned by the police, but I believe him.”

  Clovis didn’t sound all that sure about anything. “Charlie’s going

  to make it, but we can’t speak with him yet. There’s no note. looks

  like they grabbed her the moment eric left. The shower was still on.”

  “Has anyone checked on Debbie? Could this be Novak’s work?

  Hasn’t he always said he’d get revenge?”

  “Debbie and Mongo are at the office under guard. Sam definitely

  thinks it was Novak, and I don’t have any reason to think it wasn’t.”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Jack, there’s nothing you can do here. The police and Sam are

  all over this—my people are working the trail, too. The FBI has been

  notified. We’ll find her. I’ll keep you updated.”

  I couldn’t think. “Clovis, I want Debbie guarded twenty-four hours.

  No exceptions. Contact whoever is protecting liz: make sure she’s

  okay—don’t let them leave her for a minute. I want to talk to Sam. Tell

  him to call. No matter what it takes, you have to find Micki. Got it?”

  “Got it. Keep your phone by your side. looks like it’ll be a long

  day.”

  I put my phone in my pocket, determined not to forget it. Maggie

  eyes were wet, but her voice was firm. “We’re going to little Rock,

  right now.”

  “What? You heard Clovis. There’s nothing we can do and what’s

  with the ‘we?’”

  “Do you really think either of us is going to get any work done until

  Micki’s safe? And does it matter? Micki’s been kidnapped—if it’s not

  that Novak character, it must be connected with Dr. Stewart. I don’t

  know what we can do, but the answers aren’t here.”

  She was right, of course. I canceled my lunch with Peggy Fortson,

  and Maggie phoned Walter’s pilot. We agreed to meet in at the air-

  port in an hour. I raced home, dumped my dirty clothes on the floor,

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  grabbed some clean ones and was soon on my way back to National.

  Maggie and Walter, who had come to see her off, were already there.

  Sam called while we were waiting to board—his attempt at objectivity

  didn’t wash. He sounded both angry and worried, but he couldn’t or

  wouldn’t tell me exactly what the police were doing.

  once we’d taken off, I tried to engage Maggie in what had hap-

  pened at the office since I’d been gone, but neither of us could

  muster up much interest. My thoughts went to my first meeting with

  Micki and how we’d bonded as a legal team, playing off each other

  as we defended Woody Cole. Now she’d been kidnapped. It didn’t do

  to think about what she might be going through, if she wasn’t dead

  already. I put that thought out of my mind quickly.

  The plane taxied to the exact location it had been less than twelve

  hours earlier, and I saw Clovis standing by the Tahoe.

  “Any news?”

  “Not really. Sam is pushing Novak’s people hard, but they swear

  they don’t know anything. Novak’s in Dallas and has been interviewed

  by the Dallas Police. No surprise—he’s got an airtight alibi. If he’s

  behind it, he’s planned it well.”

  “I don’t give a shit who’s behind it, we need to find her. What about

  her boyfriend?” I found it increasingly hard to keep my voice under

  control.

  “The police have been all over him. Yes, they spent the night

  together. No, they didn’t argue or fight—they made love. He didn’t

  do it, Jack. He would have had to get out of bed without waking Micki,

  go outside, attack Charlie, then come inside and subdue Micki. How

  would he even know Charlie was watching the house? You think he

  had the balls to shower while she was unconscious, take her some-

  where and dump her, and then show up fresh at work with a big smile

  on his face? No, I’m sure he’s telling the truth. That man’s in love with

  Micki, he’s not the kidnapper.”

  “okay—I know you’re right. This has all the makings of a well-

  planned abduction, not a lover’s quarrel. I want to speak with eric,

  but I need to talk to Debbie first. She’s our only real link to Novak. It’s

  not that I don’t trust Sam, but my gut tells me our time is short, and

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  the police can’t move fast enough. Constitutional rights and proper

  procedures restrain them. I won’t interfere, but I’m not going to wait

  until she’s found dead.”

  My efforts to remain calm had gone out the window.

  We found Paul pacing the front porch when we got to Micki’s. He

  looked like hell. Micki abducted, Charlie in intensive care, Debbie

  almost comatose with fear—it was just too much. Maggie made sym-

  pathetic noises, and I suggested he should either go to the hospital or

  get some rest. He didn’t budge.

  “leave him be—he’s not going anywhere.” Clovis answered for

  him. “He and Micki are good friends. He’s the one who introduced

  her to eric after the Pepsi 10K. This thing’s as personal to him as it is

  to the rest of us.”

  Mongo came out to meet us, and I introduced him to Maggie.

  Apparently Debbie had gotten hysterical, and he’d given her a couple

  of Xanax.

  “She’s resting in Micki’s private room–Moira’s with her. She’s awake

  now; I think she’ll talk to you. But please be gentle—she worships

  Micki—this is really tough for her.” Great—now Mongo was both her

  physician and her therapist.

  I motioned Clovis to follow me. We found Debbie curled up in the

  day bed. Her face bore the evidence of smeared make-up and tears;

  you could almost smell her fear. She sat up, looking a little confused,

  tugging on her blouse as we walked in. From what little I knew, former

  victims of sex trafficking find it very difficult to talk about what had

  happened, what they had done. In order to live with the experience,

  they put it in a mental box and bury it deep. I needed Debbie to talk,

  to remember.

  Before I could say anything, she gulped and blurted, “oh, Mr. Pat-

  terson, I’m so scared. None of this has anything to do with me, does

  it?” Moira handed her a bottle of Mountain valley water. She took a

  sip, shaking so badly she had to clutch it with both hands.

  “No, Debbie, none of this is your fault. I know how much Micki

  means to you and you to her. But we think your old friend Novak may

  be involved. I need to ask you some questions.”

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  “oh, God, if it’s Novak, it is my fault.” Sobbing, she slumped back

  down onto the pillow.

  “Debbie, please stop, please sit up,” I said forcefully, and then

  scolded myself to be patient. I tried to take her hand, but she recoiled,

  pulling it away.

  “Debbie, listen to me. I need your help. Micki needs your help. It

  could be Novak. We just don’t know. We need to find her—that’s what

  matters. Novak is our only lead. I need you to tell me what happened

  when you first got to little Rock. How did they keep you in line, and

  most importantly, where did they take you? This is going to be hard. I

  know you’ve tried to forget it all, but your memories may be our best

  chance of saving her.”

  She mumbled, “I can’t remember much about the early part, except

  that it was awful. It’s just too hard.”

  “Debbie, I can’t imagine how bad it must have been. But it’s over

  now. You have to trust me. Would it be easier to tell me what hap-

  pened to the other girls?”

  Debbie steeled herself and sat up. “Well, Novak’s recruiters prom-

  ised us all pretty much the same thing: an education, a job, and a

  chance to meet eligible men. Most of us were around sixteen years

  old, our families were poor, and the dream of coming to America was

  more than we could resist. We wanted to meet American men, get

  married and send money home to our families.

  “When we got off the plane, we thought we were going to the apart-

  ments we’d been promised, but instead they took us to what they

  called a ‘training facility.’ They took all our papers, our passports,

  and our visas, just for safekeeping. They said we needed to be trained

  for our news jobs and more importantly, how to act and behave like

  Americans. The rooms were mostly empty except for beds, and the

  windows were covered with dark shades.

  “That first night we were all brought together for a party in the rec

  room. At first we just stood around, not sure what to do, but there

  was music, good-looking guys, and lots of food and booze, and they

  encouraged us to just have fun. They said it was part of our training.

  Americans partied all the time. So we relaxed, drank, danced, and

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  the next thing I knew I woke up in my room with a big headache. I

  couldn’t remember how I got there.

  “like I said, there was just the bed, a lamp, and a chair. My clothes

  had been folded on the chair, but that was it. Someone had dressed

  me in gym pants and a tee shirt. The door was locked. I yelled and

  banged on it until a woman in a nurse’s uniform came in. She told

  me that the door had been locked for my protection. She said I had

  gotten out of control—they’d had to sedate me. She said it happened

  to a lot of girls their first night. I found out later on they’d given me

  a roofie.”

  I must have looked confused, because she gave a ghost of a smile

  and said, “You know, a date rape drug.” I managed a weak smile in

  return, wondering how much Beth knew about “roofies.”

  “We spent that day in small groups learning to wait tables and flirt

  with customers, and that night there was another party. They were

  nice, even gave us manicures and new hairdos. I tried to ask a few

  questions, but the instructors just laughed, said we needed to get used

  to the American way of life: good times, music, dancing, booze, and

  food. each morning for a week, I woke up in the same empty room. At

  some point I found an empty syringe on the chair, but by then I didn’t

  care about anything but the next party.”

  Her story wasn’t unexpected, but it wasn’t getting me anywhere.

  She had slumped down with her elbows on her knees, staring at the

  floor.

  “Debbie, are you okay? Can you try to jump ahead?”

  She pulled her head up—I could see she was trying to focus. It

  wasn’t easy to be patient.

  “Sorry. I’ve tried so hard to put all this behind me.” She took a

  sip of water from the bottle. “So, one morning one of Novak’s men

  brought me coffee. He said they were going to have to send me back

  home. He said I had turned into an addict, that I wouldn’t make it

  here and I owed Novak a lot of money. The thought of going back was

  worse than anything I could think of—how could I face my parents?

  “I told them I’d do anything to stay. He gave me a hard time for

  a while and finally said he’d try to convince Novak to let me stay if I

  did exactly what he said. Novak knew some very rich and influential

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  men who enjoyed the company of pretty girls like me. I could work

  as a cocktail waitress in the evening and some of the other girls would

  teach me how to make men happy. When I learned how to take care

  of Novak’s customers, I could start paying off my debt and even make

  some ‘real money.’ I might even meet some rich guy who would pay off

  my debt to Novak and take me away with him. What choice did I have?

  “For weeks, I was trained by older girls and the guards how to please

  men. The vodka and the drugs made the training tolerable.”

  The room was chilly. She shivered and pulled up her knees to her

  chest. I didn’t want to know what “training” entailed.

  “Finally, they said I was ready. At first I worked at a casino in the

  south part of town, but I quickly graduated to the Quarter, where

  Novak’s best customers gambled and were given ‘special treatment.’

  I serviced some of the richest and most powerful men in little Rock

  in that house.

  “I never went down to the tables. The customers came to me, some-

  times escorted by Novak himself. I was a quick learner and very good

  at my job. Novak was happy, but I wanted out more than I can tell you.