I'll Be Your Blue Sky (Love Walked In #3)(40)
She took him in, his intense eyes, his hands, clasped now, on the tabletop, and she didn’t so much decide to trust him as realize that she already did.
“All right, then,” she said, nodding and walking back to her chair. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”
He called it a relocation system, a neutral and technical term for what sounded to Edith like a manifestly human, risky, and emotion-fraught enterprise.
“Most people think that what happens between a husband and wife in a private home, no matter how unjust or dangerous, is nobody’s business but theirs. But I make it my business,” he said, his tone turning hard, and for a moment, his affable exterior parted like a curtain so that Edith caught a glimpse of the person underneath, powerful and shrewd and used to getting his way. You don’t afford a suit like that by being nice, she thought.
George’s explanation was full of holes. He said that he identified women whose husbands were hurting them, but he wouldn’t say how or where he found them. He told her that he had people in place—scattered in many different places—some of whom drove the women from point to point, some of whom gave them safe places to stay, usually for one night, but he declined to say who the people were.
“Where do they end up, these women?” Edith asked.
“Elsewhere,” he said, his face inscrutable. “And safe.”
“But don’t their families look for them?”
“Of course. Sometimes, the police get involved. The women who have children take them if they possibly can, so by some lights, they’re kidnappers. So far, though, and I try to keep track of those we’ve relocated for at least a year, so far no one’s ever been found.”
“They leave everything behind?”
“Everything. Their names, their families, their jobs, their homes. Once they get where they’re going, we furnish them with new ones.”
“New families?”
George smiled a brittle smile. “No. I would imagine that after enough time goes by, they might contact family members whom they trust, their parents or brothers and sisters. They shouldn’t. We advise them not to. It’s a terrible idea. But I would imagine some do.”
“There’s something ruthless about this. And about you,” Edith said.
“There’s a ruthlessness to any kind of mission,” said George, shrugging. “We get them away from their bastard husbands who could end up killing them. Is there a price to pay? I don’t doubt that there is. But that’s not my concern.”
A shiver ran through Edith. To leave everything, everyone behind. She had no one to leave, except John, but she had her house. She looked around at the walls, the photographs, at the house that Joseph had given her, traces of him in every corner, in the very air. She knew she could never leave it.
“I can guess what you’re thinking,” said George. “But not everyone is happy in their homes. For the women we relocate, their houses have become prisons.”
“Am I right in assuming that you want this house, my house, to be a stopping point in your relocation system?”
“It’s in a useful location. Your neighbors are used to strangers coming and going. You are a private person with few real ties to your community. You have nursing skills.”
Edith startled at this. “Nursing skills?”
“Some of the women have injuries, of course,” he explained, coolly. “Occasionally, the children do, too.”
Of course that would be true. She nodded.
“I won’t lie,” he said, briskly. “What I’m asking you to do is risky. But you are just a cog in the wheel. You’ll be given as little information as possible. First names only. Everything happens late at night or in the very early morning, before sunrise. You won’t know who drives them here or who picks them up. You won’t even see the car. I noted a blank spot between houses at the end of your street. No streetlights, no buildings. The car will drop them there, and, if possible, they will walk through the backyards, along the canal, and enter through your back door. No local people will be involved, and the women themselves come from far away. You won’t know where, and you will never know where they go once they leave here. There shouldn’t be a need to reach me, but, just in case, I will give you a number to call. A woman will answer at any hour of the day or night. You’ll leave a message, and I will call you back. But again, this should not be necessary. This is a fine-tuned operation. If you do your part correctly, it will all go like clockwork.”
“What makes you think I’ll do this?”
“Your mind gets restless, isn’t that what you said? I sense that you’re a woman who would like to be part of something bigger than running a little place for tourists.” He shrugged. “And don’t worry, you’ll be repaid for any expenses you might accrue. Extra food, medical supplies. If you insist on it, I can even pay you a regular stipend, although most people act purely out of a desire to help.”
His imperious attitude and his smug certainty that she would jump at the chance to be part of his plan annoyed her so much that she was tempted to say no just to prove him wrong. But he wasn’t wrong. Edith heard Joseph’s voice as distinctly as if he were sitting next to her: You must promise to give yourself entirely to someone or something because that’s who you are. You are a genius at devoting yourself; it’s what makes you happiest.