Page 71 of Girl in the Water
Several people began to speak at once.
“They’re heartbroken, and so are we.” Mrs. Frieseke was the loudest, or maybe she was heard over the din because her voice carried the most authority. “I never could have imagined anything like this happening here. In our dormitory. We haven’t even needed security beyond Henry and Pierre.”
Her mouth drew tight. She probably blamed herself, at least partially. She confirmed that by saying, “If I had thought to put at least one security guard into the budget…” She shook her head. “But we have Pierre and Henry. They’re strong young men. I never thought…”
Carol put her arm around her and hugged her, as much as she could with her giant belly.
Both Henry and Pierre drew themselves straighter in their chairs, everything about them resolute, from their hardening gazes to the angle of their chins, as if saying,it might have happened once, but we’re alert now; nothing like this is ever going to happen again.
As the only two men on staff, they probably felt responsible too, probably fancied themselves the protectors of the others. Ian wasn’t impressed. They’d done a shitass job at protection.
Of course, the repurposed warehouse held no riches and was always full of people, so it probably didn’t draw thieves. And as far as taking one of the girls for trafficking went, the city was full of girls just like them, living on the streets. Nobody would notice if they went missing. So the traffickers didn’t need to court trouble by coming here and tangling with an international aid organization.
Ian sat back and let Daniela conduct the interview since she was good at it. She seemed to know instinctively just what tone to use when asking a question, how to respond, whether with admiration or understanding or commiserating. She excelled at handling people.
And he hated to think where she might have learned that, back at Rosa’s, where reading a client right would have meant the difference between life and death.
For the past few years, Ian had barely thought of Daniela’s past. Her past had nothing to do with her present, would have nothing to do with her bright future. But since they’d been back in Brazil, the past kept pushing into his thoughts. And what he hated even more was that Daniela probably experienced the same.
He watched her ask her questions to the people around the table. They all responded. Nobody seemed to be holding anything back. But as good as Daniela was, the group interview didn’t net any new, actionable information.
After they finished, Mrs. Frieseke took them to see the older girls and talk to them. Work was in progress in the three separate workrooms, and they visited each in turn.
The girls worked, laughing, chatting, listening to music. They didn’t put their work down even while answering questions. They worked hard. Most of them had come from the streets, so they knew the alternative.
None of them had been in the visiting volunteers section of the building. They weren’t allowed up there, a rule that Ian thought sensible.
They visited the young girls’ schoolroom next and received the same eager-to-please but unhelpful answers.
“Maybe you could conduct one-on-one interviews tomorrow,” he told Daniela when they were back in their small room after a surprisingly satisfying cafeteria dinner of fish and fruit, settling in for the evening.
She sat on her bed, watching him with what he thought was a guarded expression. They had the lights off to keep the bugs away from the screen that had a small tear in it. Moonlight dusted her with silver.
“I want you to tell me why you’re going back to Rio,” she said. “Please don’t treat me like a child.”
She wore a thin, strappy nightgown.
He lay on his bed, on his side, wishing for air-conditioning. He was immensely grateful for that five feet of distance between them.No, she was most definitely not a child.
So he told her about Lavras Sugar and Ethanol. “Finch was working for Lavras in Rio at the time he got in trouble. Maybe the trouble he got in was at Lavras. If I interview, I’ll probably meet the head of security, the guy Finch worked for. I want to find out what happened.”
“Whoever Finch ticked off either killed Finch or had him killed,” she pointed out. “I don’t like it that you’ll be going into possible danger alone.” She rubbed a narrow hand over her eyes. “You didn’t see him.”
Finch’s body. Tortured.
She dropped her hand but was still for only a second or two before her fingers began worrying the edge of her nightgown.
Ian hated that he’d made her upset. “They’re not going to knock me off in the middle of the HR department. It’s a professional building, headquarters of an international corporation. I’ll be safe. I’ll poke around, then I’ll be out of there before they can so much as come up with a plan.”
“I wish I could come with you.”
“We came to Brazil to investigate baby Lila. Even I shouldn’t be going. I’ll make up for the missed time when I get back.”
“I don’t want you to stay in Rio overnight.” She fixed him with a hard look. “Pierre asked me out. He wants to take me to the opera. If you don’t come back, I’m going to go with him.”
No way was Monsieur French Casanova getting anywhere near Daniela. “I won’t stay the night.”
He couldn’t tell for sure in the semidarkness, but she looked a little on the smug side. Probably was. She was probably playing him like a fricking fiddle.
