Page 28 of Wyatt
“H-he hit the other girl. That’s what they said. He wasn’t falling asleep, and he got angry and hit her.”
“He would never hit her unprovoked,” said Wyatt. “Never.”
“Who told you that he hit her?” asked Ulani.
“The guys that hire us. They find us either on the beach or hanging out in places and tell us we can make a lot of money if we just do one thing. It’s easy, and we’re not hurting anyone,” she said. Wyatt growled, and she jerked backwards. “I didn’t hurt anyone.”
“Who are they? What are their names?” asked Ulani.
“I-I don’t know. They approach us, give us the instructions, and send us on our way. No phone calls, no names.”
“Where did they first approach you?” asked HG.
“On the beach. Imperial Beach near the pier.”
“And is that where they found you again?” he asked the girl.
“Y-yes. They said if I wanted to do it again, just show up there and hang out. If they have work, they’ll find me.”
“What did they look like?” asked Wyatt.
“I-I’m not sure. They wear hoodies and baseball hats. You can barely see their faces. They’re not big like you guys. They’re skinny.”
“Deep voice? Cracking? An accent?” asked Ethan.
“Um, kind of deep. No accent.”
“Shit. This is a nightmare. Give me the number for your parents,” said Ulani.
“No! No, please, I’ll do whatever you want, but don’t call my parents.”
“No choice, honey,” said Nate. “You’re a minor, you’ve committed a crime. We have to call your parents. What’s your last name, Bethany?”
“Barber.”
They all looked at one another, whistling and curses were heard as they stared at her, then at Ulani.
“Bethany Barber,” said Ulani. She stared at the girl, narrowing her gaze. “Is your father Ezra Barber?”
“God, I’m so dead.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Are you okay, honey?”
“Yeah, I’m good, Daddy. Can we go home?”
“No. She cannot go home,” said Ulani.
“Remember who I am,” he snapped.
“Oh, I remember,” said Ulani. “Your daughter has been helping to drug pilots, accepting payment for it, and I suspect you knew something was going on.”
“I had no idea,” he stated too quickly.
“Director, I know what you make for a living. Your daughter’s shoes are Manolo Blahnik. Five-hundred-dollar shoes. Her bag is Louis Vuitton, around four grand. Earrings are at least two carats. Now, I can start an investigation into your finances, or you can start being honest.”
Barber looked at his daughter, then back at the dozen people in front of him, now including Commander Morris.
