retreating once more into her semicatatonic state, unable to answer
questions or even to respond with a nod when spoken to, unable to meet
Rachael’s eyes.
“We’ve got to get her to a hospital,” Rachael said, wincing when she got
a better look at the poor child’s injuries in the brighter light of the
bathroom. Two fingernails on the girl’s right hand had been broken back
almost to the cuticle and were bleeding, one finger appeared to he
broken.
Rachael sat with her on the edge of the bed while Benny went through the
closets and various dresser drawers, looking for clothes.
She listened for strange noises elsewhere in the house.
She heard none.
Still, she listened attentively.
In addition to panties, faded blue jeans, a bluecheckered blouse, peds,
and a pair of New Balance running shoes, Benny found a trove of illegal
drugs. The bottom drawer of one of the nightstands contained fifty or
sixty hand-rolled joints, a plastic bag full of unidentified brightly
colored capsules, and another plastic bag containing about two ounces of
white powder. “Probably cocaine,” Benny said.
Eric had not used drugs, he had disdained them.
He had always said that drugs were for the weak, for the losers who
could not cope with life on its own terms. But obviously he had not
been averse to supplying all sorts of illicit substances to the young
girls he kept, ensuring their docility and compliance at the expense of
further corrupting them. Rachael had never loathed him as much as she
did at that moment.
She found it necessary to dress the naked girl as she would have had to
dress a very small child, although the teenager’s helpless daze-marked
by spells of shivers and occasional whimpering-was caused by shock and
terror rather than by the illegal chemicals that Benny had found in the
nightstand.
As Rachael quickly dressed the girl, chivalrous Benny kept his eyes
discreetly averted. Having found her purse while searching for her
clothes, he now went through it, seeking identification. “Her name’s
Sarah Kiel, and she turned sixteen just two months ago. Looks like
she’s come west from… Coffeyville, Kansas.”
Another runaway, Rachael thought. Maybe fleeing an intolerable home
life. Maybe just a rebellious type who chafed at discipline and
entertained the illusion that life on her own, without restrictions,
would be pure bliss.
Off to L.A the Big Orange, to take a shot at the movie business,
dreaming of stardom. Or maybe just seeking some excitement, an escape
from the boredom of the vast and slumbering Kansas plains.
Instead of the expected romance and glamour, Sarah Kiel had found what
most girls like her found at the end of the California rainbow, a hard
and homeless life on the streets-and eventually the solicitous attention
of a pimp. Eric must have either bought her from a pimp or found her
himself while on the prowl for the kind of fresh meat that would keep
him feeling young.
Ensconced in an expensive Palm Springs house, supplied with all the
drugs she wanted, plaything of a very rich man, Sarah had surely begun
to convince herself that she was, after all, destined for a fairy-tale
life. The naive child could not have guessed the true extent of the
danger into which she had stepped, could not have conceived of the
horror that would one day pay a visit and leave her dazed and mute with
terror.
“Help me get her out to the car,” Rachael said as she finished dressing
Sarah Kiel.
Benny put an arm around the girl from one side, and Rachael held her
from the other side, and although Sarah shuffled along under her own
power, she would have collapsed several times if they had not provided
support.
Her knees kept buckling.
The night smelled of star jasmine stirred by a breeze that also rustled
shrubbery, causing Rachael to glance nervously at the shadows.
They put Sarah in the car and fastened her seat belt for her, whereupon
she slumped against the restraining straps and let her head fall
forward. It was possible for a third person to ride in the 560 SL,
although it was necessary – for the extra passenger to sit sideways in