Heidi didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was right there in the “secret” communications between her young daughter and these older men. Dress it up all she wanted, but there was no way around the fact that her daughter was involved in straight-up prostitution.
She wanted to cry again. She wanted to do nothing and forget those two calm strangers had ever said anything to her. But she had no choice now, did she? The secret had been thrust in her face. She couldn’t put that horse back in the barn, to mix her metaphors. It was a parental paradox probably as old as time: She didn’t want to know, but she did want to know.
When she called her daughter’s cell phone, Kimberly had answered with breathless enthusiasm. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hey, sweetheart.”
“Everything okay? Your voice sounds funny.”
At first Kimberly had denied it. That was to be expected. Then she tried to make it sound innocent. That, too, was to be expected. Then Kimberly tried defiance, accusing her mother of hacking into her account and invading her privacy. Again expected.
Heidi kept her voice steady, even as her heart cracked in her chest and filled it with pain. She explained to Kimberly about the stranger. She recounted what they had told her and what she had seen on her own. Patiently. Calmly. At least, on the outside.
It took some time, but they both knew where this conversation was headed. Cornered, the shock slowly wearing off, Kimberly started to open up. Money was tight, she explained.
“You can’t believe how expensive everything is here.”
A classmate had told Kimberly about the site. You didn’t really have to do anything with the guys, she’d been told. They just wanted young girls for the company. Heidi almost laughed out loud at that one. Men, as Heidi knew all too well and Kimberly quickly learned, never really just wanted company. That was merely the loss leader to get you in the store.
Heidi and Kimberly talked for two hours. At the end of the conversation, Kimberly asked her mother what she should do.
“Break it off with them. Today. Now.”
Kimberly promised she would do just that. The next question was how to proceed. Heidi said she would take some time off and come up and spend some time in New York. Kimberly balked.
“The semester will be over in two weeks. Let’s just wait till then.”
Heidi didn’t like that idea. In the end, they agreed to discuss it further in the morning. Before they hung up, Kimberly said, “Mom?”
“Yes?”
“Please don’t tell Dad.”
Already decided, but she didn’t tell Kimberly that. When Marty came home, she said nothing. Marty cooked up burgers on the grill in the yard. Heidi poured them both drinks. He talked about his day. She talked about hers. The secret was there, of course. It sat at the kitchen table in Kimberly’s old chair, never speaking but never budging, either.
In the morning, after Marty left for work, there was a knock on the door.
“Who is it?”
“Mrs. Dann? I’m Detective John Kuntz with the New York Police Department. May I speak with you for—”
Heidi threw open the door, nearly collapsing in the process. “Oh my God, my daughter . . . ?”
“Oh, she’s fine, ma’am,” Kuntz said quickly, stepping forward to help support her. “Wow, jeez, I’m sorry. I guess I should have told you that right away. I’m just imagining—your daughter is in school in New York and an NYPD officer shows up at your door.” Kuntz shook his head. “I have kids too. I get it. But don’t worry, Kimberly is fine. I mean, healthwise. There are other factors . . .”
“Factors?”
Kuntz smiled. There was a little too much space between each tooth. He sported a terrible comb-over, the kind of thing that made you want to grab a pair of scissors, pull the few hairs taut, and snip them off. She placed him in his midforties, paunchy with stooped shoulders and the sunken eyes of someone who didn’t eat well or get enough sleep.
“May I come in for a moment?”
Kuntz held up his badge. It looked, to Heidi’s amateur eye, to be legitimate.
“What’s this about?”
“I think you probably have some idea.” Kuntz nodded toward the door. “May I?”
Heidi stepped back. “I don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Have any idea what this is about.”
Kuntz stepped inside and looked around as though he were there to buy the place. He smoothed down a few of the comb-over hairs that had started to make a static-electrical escape. “Well, you called your daughter last night. Is that correct?”
Heidi wasn’t sure how to answer. Didn’t matter. Kuntz plowed ahead without waiting for one anyway.