Questions.I’ll end it at the first sign of her distress.
“Hey Daniela,” a woman’s voice calls from off screen. “I’m Delilah Porter. What Gray means by human extractions is that I rescue people who are in trouble. Tell me what you need from us.”
Daniela’s head bobs up and down, as she wets her lips.
“My daughter—Valentina—is in a small city in the US. Fall River, Massachusetts. She’s been with my friend Isabel, who was killed earlier. Valentina is at school, participating in a lockdown charity event. She doesn’t know about Isabel.”
Her voice is starting to wobble a bit, but she’s doing fine. I’ve known powerful men who have shown less strength and dignity under these circumstances.
“Give me the phone,” Delilah tells Gray. “That’s better.”
The blonde on the screen looks more like a Southern belle than a federal agent, but I trust Gray’s judgment. He likes to come off like a dumb pretty boy, but he’s a shrewd businessman who knows how to get shit done.
“Okay,” Delilah murmurs. “Where were we? How old is Valentina?”
“She’s twelve.”
“Does she have a passport?”
“Yes. All her documents are at the apartment in the bottom drawer of the desk in the living room. The key is normally in a jewelry box on a tall chest in my room. It’s the room with twin beds. But I don’t know if Isabel moved it while I’ve been away,” Daniela adds, cupping her hand in a tight fist.
“If it’s anywhere in the house, we’ll find it,” Delilah assures her. “We can also break into the desk, if we need to. It’s a small thing.”
Daniela’s body visibly relaxes. “Inside that desk drawer, there’s also a notarized document giving me custody of Valentina if something should happen to Isabel.”
“Giving you custody?” Gray asks, the apprehension wound tight in his voice. “I thought she was your daughter?”
“Let me explain.” I reach for the phone because I’m not going to let him put her through this, but Daniela shakes her head, and pushes my hand away.
“Valentina is my daughter,” she responds candidly before I can intervene.
“You don’t need to do this,” I murmur. “We can find another way.”
She ignores me, and I allow it. Because even as I said it, I knew it was wishful thinking. Sure, we could find another way, but this is still our best chance to get the kid without adding to the trauma, and without endangering Daniela.
“I—I was very young when she was born. Isabel worked for us, and really, she was one of the family. She and her husband raised Valentina, but I’ve always been a big part of their lives—of my daughter’s life. Please don’t let anything happen to her. For the last twelve years, she’s been my entire reason for being. I don’t think I could go on if I lost her too.”
She chokes back a sob, and I lay my hand on her shoulder for support.
It’s very quiet on the other end, and Gray has moved behind Delilah.
“Who’s Valentina’s father?”
Fucking Gray. But we’ve come this far, I can’t end it now.
“Tomas Huntsman,” Daniela replies, just above a whisper.
It lands like a spear in my chest.
“Antonio’s cousin?” Gray’s voice is gentle, without a hint of judgment.
“Yes. I don’t think he knows about Valentina. And Valentina only knows Isabel and Jorge as her parents. She would be shocked to hear differently.”
“Where is Jorge?” my friend asks, eyes fixed on the screen.
“Dead. It happened several months ago,” I add. Gray shoots me daggers. Complicated custody arrangements, and now another dead body—I’m quite certain he wants to kill me about now.
“Don’t you worry,” Delilah coos into the phone. “We’re going to bring Valentina back to you, and no one is telling her anything.”