What Have We Done (55)

“It’s because Mr. Brood’s brother got it fixed, he runs this town. Ben says we need to call the FBI.”

“I’ll call,” Flanders says, and Nico believes him. “But we need proof that the missing girls were residents of Savior House.”

Nico says, “You need proof? I’ll get you proof.”

Back at Savior House, Nico ventures into forbidden territory: Mr. Brood’s office. He was going to kick down the door if he needed to, but he’s in luck. The door is open an inch, the lights on like Brood had just been there. He needs to be fast.

He rushes to the metal file cabinet and riffles through the files. He finds a file for each of them, Nico, Ben, Donnie, but none for the girls. He goes through each drawer. But he’s sure of it. There’re none.

His heart jumps to his throat when he hears voices. Mr. Brood talking to someone. Nico dives under the desk and balls up as Brood and another man come into the room. The door is shut loudly and the other man sounds angry.

“I don’t need this headache,” the man says to Mr. Brood.

“You think I do?”

“Kids from your goddamn home go to the cops? Are you fucking kidding me? I went to a lot of trouble to get you this job. You’re lucky that detective owes me. And you’re lucky it sounded crazy.

Some lady buying girls.”

“Is it crazy? You’re the one who made the deal with these people and I’ve got a bunch of kids missing.”

“I didn’t have a choice. The Corporation dealt with that problem we had during the primary.”

“Your opponent’s sudden heart attack…”

“Are you fucking stupid? Shut your mouth. And I called the French lady. They say they haven’t

taken any of the girls. They want the new girl, but they didn’t take the others.”

“And you believe them?”

“Yeah, I do. Most of those girls went missing—under your watch, by the way—long before I got mixed up with The Corporation. But it doesn’t matter. It’s not like we could do anything about it either way.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I’m just telling you what they told me. They got no reason to lie. And you best watch your tone.

Mom made me promise I’d look out for you, but—”

“But what? You’ll plant me and my son somewhere worse than being some babysitter at a shithole group home?”

“Quit fucking whining. You get paid plenty. As long as you keep washing the cash—and don’t bring any more attention to this place.”

Nico listens. The two men are quiet for a long time. Then: “What now?” Mr. Brood asks.

“Russo’ll bury the report with the Chestertown squad. Maybe you and your friends keep your hands off the girls and it’ll die down.”

“It’s your friends from Men’s Club who—”

“Shut up.”

Mr. Brood is quiet again. Then asks: “What about the girl the French lady wants? It’s too hot right now for another one to go missing.”

“She said, ‘ That’s a you problem. ’ I’m not telling these people no…”

“If The Corporation didn’t take the others, then who did?”

“You think I’m fucking stupid? You promised me no more fiddling with underage girls. I worked hard to get rid of the problem last time. To get you this job around kids, for Christ’s sake.”

“I didn’t—”

“Shut the fuck up. They’re coming for the girl, Jenna, tomorrow. You pack her stuff after they get here and keep the other kids in line. And keep your hands off the girls or I swear…”

The door opens, the voices trail away. And Nico knows they have no choice now.

A bird squawks, bringing Nico’s thoughts back to the tree fort. This mess he’s in. He looks down at the planks, which are green from moss. The duffel bag—the evidence—is still here lodged in the corner. He’s safe. No one knows. He sits, legs dangling over the edge, catching his breath from the climb. Looking through a break in branches and leaves below, he pictures shirtless Donnie’s skinny pale torso, Ben giving him a boost to climb the tree.

Nico will wait here until dark, then climb down (somehow), and get rid of the bag.

As the sun lowers, he sits thinking about the surreal last two days: getting trapped in the mine, the rescue team showing up looking like spacemen in their oxygen masks, ruthless O’Leary flying a kite with the wonderment of a young child, Natalie telling him she never wants to see him again. And now, chased through the sprawl of Chestertown by someone—who, the FBI?—and sitting in a lopsided tree fort he helped build a quarter century ago.

Something catches his eye. A shiny object against the wall of the fort. He slides over on his rear,

picks it up with his index finger and thumb, and examines it. And his heart drops. This isn’t some trinket from back in the day. Isn’t something Nico dropped on his last visit to the fort. It’s a gold cuff link.

But it’s not the cuff link that causes Nico’s stomach to roil, his heart to hammer. It’s the initials engraved on the gold face: R.B.W.

Robert Benjamin Wood.

CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

DONNIE

Donnie and Reeves sit at a bar eating Reuben sandwiches and drinking cold beer on Bleak Street in Chestertown. Bleak is right.