“He sounds wonderful.”
“That’s the problem. She believes every word he says because he uses his voice to persuade her. If he leaves her alone long enough, she begins to do things for herself. She starts to remember the woman she was, but he always comes back, and he takes everything away again. I’m afraid for her.”
The weariness in her voice made Savage afraid for Seychelle. She seemed like she had slid down a bit in the bed. He pulled off his boots and climbed onto the bed beside her, lifting her and then placing her between his thighs. He wrapped his arms around her. She felt cold to him.
“Did he hurt her? Physically? Clearly, he did emotionally. Did he hurt her physically?”
A little shudder went through Seychelle’s body. “Yes. When he insists on having sex with her. But no, he never hits her. He threatens her and she cowers down. But then he tells her she isn’t worth even hitting. She isn’t worth what he would do to a dog. She told me she apologizes for all the trouble she gives him. She told him she would leave, but then he gets mad and says she’s ungrateful to him for all he’s done for her. When he leaves, if he’s been really mean, she hurts herself.” She whispered the last like a confession.
Savage rocked her to try to comfort her. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m sorry you had to see her like that. No one deserves that. What can we do for her? Does she have a family? Can we call them and bring them here?”
“She wants to go home, but she’s afraid to. He separated her from all her friends. From her family.”
“That’s a typical abuser. Once he’s got her separated, he can do whatever he wants with her. She has nowhere to go. No one to talk to.”
“In this case, he’s poisoned everyone against her. Even Doris is conditioned to think Sahara’s the one abusing poor Brandon. He has the ability to turn everyone against her, making them believe she’s mentally ill. She believes him, Savage. He’s so evil. He takes pleasure in making her believe that she’s ugly and unworthy, that her own family doesn’t love or want her. He doesn’t have to physically hurt her. She hurts herself.”
There was a little sob in her voice that broke his heart. He didn’t even know he had a heart that could break. “Baby, don’t.” He whispered it against her ear. “We’ll fix it. We’ll find a way to help her.”
“I think it’s too late. Even if we can get her out of there, if he finds her, she’ll go back to him if she hears his voice. He’s programmed her. She can’t break away. I couldn’t get her away.” This time there was guilt, even shame, in her voice.
Savage tightened his arms. “Seychelle. This woman has been with him for years. One visit isn’t going to undo everything he’s done. You know that. You aren’t thinking clearly. You just panicked because she’s in a bad way and you always want to help. We’ll take care of it. Did you manage to get her parents’ names and number?”
She shook her head. “Almost. At the last minute she wouldn’t give it to me. I had her at the phone, ready to call her mother, and then she was sobbing, and she wouldn’t do it.”
“What about a name? Her parents’ names. First and last. Are they together?”
“Yes, her parents are still together. She talked about them very lovingly. Valerie and Harry Higgens. They live somewhere in Oregon, but I have no idea where. It’s a big state.”
“But, baby, I told you about Code. He’s our ace in the hole. How do you think I know where you are all the time?” He pulled out his phone and held it out in front of them both, texting fast, one-handed. He used their encryption that told Code it was a priority. He gave the data he had on the couple, which wasn’t much. “Tell me anything else you have. What kind of work, anything at all she might have talked about?”
“Valerie was a teacher. Sixth grade, I think. She won awards. She’s retired now, although she does substitute. And she will tutor. Harry owned a feed store, but he sold it and retired as well. They bought a little property and he keeps bees. He’s very passionate about being a beekeeper, and they have lavender fields on their property. He sells lavender honey.”
Savage quickly relayed the information.
“How did you learn to text that fast?”
He nuzzled her neck. She always smelled delicious. He didn’t need to be a beekeeper to have honey. Her hair was honey colored, and she smelled like a mixture of wild strawberries and honey. “When we were kids, we used to tap on our thighs or arms or shoulders, whatever was handy. We had to be fast so no one would see. We used our own code. We still use it.”