Livia Lone (Livia Lone #1)(40)

“What about the other people on the boat from Portland? What happened to them?”

“Well, they were all adults, and they were all here illegally, so my understanding is they’ve been repatriated. Sent back to the countries they came from. You were the only kid who survived the trip, so that made you a special case. The truth is, INS didn’t know what to do with you. I guess Fred pulled some strings.”

“Strings?”

“Sorry, another expression. It means . . . used influence. He knows a lot of people. And then there’s his brother, Ezra, the senator. You’ve probably met him.”

Something in his tone made Livia sense he didn’t like the brother much more than he liked Mr. Lone. She wanted to ask, but only said, “Yes.”

She wanted to tell him that Mr. Lone said he knew where Nason was. But what if telling Rick made things worse for Nason? The last time she had thought she was protecting Nason, she had caused her to be hurt, hurt so badly. What if that happened again? What if Mr. Lone were telling the truth, and had located Nason through his contacts, his senator brother, something like that, and now Livia did something stupid like tell the wrong person, and got Nason hurt again?

She couldn’t risk that. She couldn’t.

But there was one more possibility. And this was her chance. She had to tell him.

She cleared her throat again and said, “There’s one thing I didn’t say to the other police who asked me. And I want to tell you. But you have to promise not to tell anyone else. Not Mrs. Lone. Not Mr. Lone. No one.”

“Why, honey?”

“You just have to promise.”

“Whatever you tell me, I’ll try to help. But I won’t be much use alone.”

Livia considered. It was a good point, and she hadn’t thought of it.

“Okay,” she said. “You can tell the other police you trust. But I want this . . . just please, I need your help. Please.”

“All right. Okay.”

“You won’t tell?”

“I won’t tell.”

“Do you know a Thai policeman?”

“You mean, a certain Thai policeman?”

“No, no, I mean, do you know Thai policemen. Any Thai policemen.”

“I don’t. But I work with people who would know the Thai police, yes.”

All right. It wasn’t quite what she’d been hoping for, but it would have to be enough.

She told him how her parents had sold her and Nason. She described Skull Face and Dirty Beard and Square Head, leaving out the parts she couldn’t talk about—parts she thought he might sense regardless. Most of all, she described where her parents lived, in enough detail so that the Thai police could go to the village.

“But you can’t tell any Thai policemen where I am,” she said. “I don’t want my parents to know. I never want to see them again. Ever. I don’t even want anyone to contact them now, but they’re the only ones who know who they sold us to. So maybe they can help find Nason. And”—her eyes filled up and she blinked away the tears—“I love her. Even more than I hate them.”

“You don’t even want your parents to know—”

“No. They don’t deserve to know anything. Not even where I am. Not even if I’m alive.”

He nodded. “All right.”

She thought about how her people hated the Thai police, whose only job seemed to be to stop the hill tribes from cutting land in the forest where they could plant food. Some people tried to pay them bribes. The police took the money, then drove the people off their land anyway.

“And also,” she said, “the Thai police will tell you they visited the village, but that my parents didn’t know anything. Then you’ll pay them, and they won’t have”—she groped for the word, got it—“they won’t have earned it.”

“Livia, no one’s going to pay the police—”

“I don’t know how it is in America. But in Thailand, the police aren’t good. They don’t let my people farm the way we need to. If you ask for something, they expect something back. So they’ll lie and tell you they did what you asked, so they can make you do something for them in return. You need”—she struggled again, then remembered the word—“proof. Proof they did what you asked. Otherwise they’ll lie.”

“All right. What kind of proof?”

“My mother has a photograph. Of Nason and me. The Thai policemen should take it. And send it to you. Then I’ll know. I’ll know they really went to the village. I’ll know they really asked my parents. At least I’ll know that.”

Maybe she should have said, “We’ll know that.” But even though he seemed kind, she knew Rick wasn’t an ally. She didn’t have allies. And she didn’t want them. In the long run, the only person she could depend on was herself.





26—THEN

Livia passed the first day of spring semester in a daze of nausea and shame. The day before, Mr. Lone had come to her room. That much she had been expecting—it had been almost two weeks since the last time, and with Rick and the sons gone, and Mrs. Lone at her bridge club, one of his visits was inevitable. Livia had just wanted for it to be over so she wouldn’t have to dread it again, at least for a while.