not moving, not making eye contact, not answering. Livy knew that look. He’d stay that way for a long, long time, simply out of fear.
“Bobby, I want you to look at me.”
Her firm tone encouraged the boy to obey. She didn’t want him to be afraid of her, but she needed him to listen to what she had to say. Green eyes filled with defiance met hers. She leaned closer, everything else fading into the background as she attempted to connect with this scared little boy who reminded her of herself.
“Bobby, I know what you’re going through. I’ve been there. Maybe not the exact circumstances, but when I was a kid, I ran from the coppers more times that I can count.” She shifted on the bed and caught a glimpse of Jake in the mirror atop the dresser. Should she reveal more? He wouldn’t like what he heard. But she had to reach Bobby. She forged ahead. “And sometimes I got caught.”
He remained focused on her, and she knew she’d snagged his interest.
“I’d get away from the cops and go right back to life on the streets. But one day something changed. I lost my sister and then got really sick, like you. Mrs. Brooks took me in and took care of me. She never judged me for what I’d done. She accepted me and loved me.”
“I had a sister.” Bobby looked down.
“What happened?”
“We got separated when we got here.” Bobby’s chin trembled. “I don’t know what happened to her.”
Livy tilted his chin up. “Bobby, what would you say if I told you your sister is here with us? She’s doing fine.”
“Jessie’s here?” His eyes widened.
“If her full name is Jessica. Would you like to see her?”
“Yes. Please.” An excited shine replaced the despair in Bobby’s eyes, and he bobbed his head, his shaggy red hair flopping over his forehead.
“Mr. Jake can bring her in here.” Livy met Jake’s gaze in the mirror. “She’s asleep, but under the circumstances, I don’t think Bobby can wait until morning.”
Jake carried the sleeping child in and placed her in the crook of Bobby’s good arm. She sighed and snuggled close. Bobby’s gaze riveted on his sleeping sister’s rosy cheeks and sweet-scented hair.
“Bobby, we’d like to take care of the other children just like we’ve been taking care of Jessica. But we can’t if you don’t tell us where they are.”
The sweet moment turned sour as the color drained from Bobby’s face. “I . . . I thank you, ma’am, for taking care of my sister, but I don’t know nothing.”
Livy bit her lip. If she didn’t get through to this boy, more children would be in danger. Jake put a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up. He stepped forward. “Bobby, if you don’t tell us, what’s going to stop them from getting rid of the next kid who gets hurt or the next one who’s too young to work?”
His eyes grew wide again. “Butch got rid of a little girl a few weeks ago.”
“A toddler? About a year old?”
“Yes.” Tears swam in his eyes. “The boss said she was too little, and Butch took her. Her sister cried and cried. Until Grady whipped her and made her stop. She still cries at night when she thinks nobody’s listening.”
“The baby’s here. Luke found her and brought her to Miss Livy. Just like he brought Jessica.”
Bobby’s head jerked up. “Luke? His brother is at the factory, too.”
“He told us.” Jake hunkered down. “I need you to tell me which factory. I’ll take care of the rest.”
Bobby closed his eyes and hugged Jessica close. “The glove factory.”
* * *
The doctor arrived and shooed them out. Livy confronted Jake in the kitchen. “Gibbons runs the glove factory.”
“I should have known.” Jake jerked on his coat. “He’s been a thorn in my side ever since he got here.”
“You’re going over there, aren’t you?”
He slanted her a look. “What if I am?”
“I’m going with you.”
“No, you’re not.”
“You need my help.”
“You’re wrong there. I don’t need your help.”
Livy glared at him. “How do you intend to get in?”
“I’ll find a way.”
“What’re you going to do? Break a window or kick down a door?”
He crossed his arms. “If I have to.”
“For your information, Gibbons has bars on the windows, and they’re too high up to see into. And there are only two doors, both padlocked.”
His eyes narrowed. “And how do you know all this?”
“It’s my job to know these things.” She looked away. “Or it used to be.”