Page 9 of Axton
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mike Axton, VP of Creed’s Lake.” I shook her hand in return.
“Come with me and I’ll take you to see her. I wish I had more information for you, but she has no identification, only your President’s business card.” I walked next to her down a longhallway. “Like I told him, she was dressed a bit odd. I’ll show you her belongings first because she is in the trauma unit upstairs. I have her things in my office.”
“What happened to her?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Can’t say for sure. She was found behind a dumpster in a small town not far away. We have some suspicion she was possibly involved in a car crash and stumbled away from the scene. The last I heard, they were checking the area for a crash site. She had glass in her hair, and she does have some mild swelling of the brain. She’s asleep now, and the medication is just to make her comfortable. She doesn’t need surgery, but she did need quite a few stitches. It’s like road rash on her right side, like she jumped from a moving vehicle, but the glass doesn’t support that theory. No broken bones, but she will be sore when she wakes up.” We stepped into an elevator and got off on the third floor. “She’s a very striking young woman.”
We stepped off the elevator. “When was she brought in?” I asked.
“I believe around one am, and I got here about two.” She opened her office door and stepped inside. “Here we are, all she had was the clothes on her back and an envelope. She was wearing this cross necklace, but other than that she had a lot of money and the business card. See this dress, I think I had one similar in high school. I graduated in 1987, and she was even wearing this bow in her hair, and I owned one just like it.” She showed me a big ass bow. “The envelope was in this pocket, and I’m surprised she didn’t lose it.”
The dress looked like something my mom wore when she was a teenager. It wasn’t flattering at all, pink with puffy sleeves.
“She was wearing these white tights and these flats.” She showed me a pair of shoes.
The first thing I thought of was a polygamist cult, judging by the fashion of her clothes. They reminded me of the clothes women in Warren Jeffs polygamous community wore in pictures I once saw. I picked up the necklace and studied it, but didn’t see anything other than the 14k stamp on the clasp. There was nothing written on the envelope but inside was a few grand. It was becoming even stranger than I expected. “Do you see many people in these parts who dress this way?” I asked.
“Not since the eighties.” She answered.
“How about religious compounds? Are there any in the area?” I asked.
“Not that I know of to be sure, but there are rumors of some a few hours away to the west, but I’ve never seen it or the people. As far as I know it could just be a rumor.”
I nodded, reminding myself to check into some CPS agencies in the area for reports of children living on religious compounds.
“There is a motorcycle club about an hour from here, and they live on a compound. I have doubts they are religious though.” She added.
“I presume the police are involved. Are they saying much?” I asked.
“Nothing more than assuring us they are looking for a crash site. It was thicker glass in her hair, not the kind from a window in a house but the kind found on a vehicle. As you can see there was a lot of blood on her dress, but her wounds aren’t likely to produce this much blood, so they are pretty sure there are other victims involved.”
I picked up Creed’s business card and studied it. “There’s only a small number of people he would have shared this card with, and there’s a small chance she or a family member was given this card. I have some files I can check once I see her and maybe I can help identify her. The other option would be her having this card instead of an appropriate one for her circumstances. We have a not for prophet program for domestic violence victims and maybe she ran from the scene because she was scared of someone. This isn’t the type of card that would float around for that program, but maybe somehow the wrong card was given to her. Do any of her wounds look defensive or look older, like healing bruises or scars?” I asked.
“I don’t believe so, but I’m not an expert and I haven’t examined her. We can check with the doctor and see if he noted anything.” She suggested. “I’ve seen her, and she didn’t seem to be the type to have any tattoos. Like I said, she’s a striking young woman and I’d guess she’s no older than twenty five years old, maybe younger. She wasn’t wearing any makeup and most of her injuries are on her head and her arm. No major facial injuries, so hopefully you can identify her rather quickly.”
I wouldn’t state my presumptions out loud, but if I was a betting man, I’d say she was running from a religious cult. Most likely she was to contact Creed if she was able to escape. There had been some sex trafficking suspicions in Arizona, but they were typically children and young women that crossed the border.
“Ethnic group?” I asked.
“As far as I can tell she’s Caucasian.” Tara answered.
“Are the authorities aware that we were called?”
“Yes.” She answered.
I’d need Irons to contact his mom and step-dad for affiliated cops in the area for members of their MC or another one that was local. If I were to walk in there and say I didn’t have a clue of her identity, they’d say they got what they needed from me and wouldn’t give me more contact with the young woman to help her. I was honestly surprised they were allowing me all the information they gave me so far. I reached into my back pocket for my wallet and pulled out a business card. “Take this, it may take me a few days to identify her as a client, but if you or the authorities have any questions about our non-prophet, I can be reached at this cell number. I’ll have to get her photo and send it to our headquarters in Indiana. There’s a chance she’s a domestic violence case, so I don’t recommend sharing her information publicly for a few days, unless she wakes up and tells her story and we are confident she’s safe. Hopefully, the authorities agree and will give me some time to do some research. We have contacts in Arizona that may know of this woman, and we don’t want whoever she was running away from to find her here.”
“I will pass on your information to the authorities. Are you ready to see her?” She asked.
I nodded. “Sure, lead the way.”
We exited the office and made our way into the elevator. She asked a few questions about our DV program as we rode the elevator, and I told her about the law practice and educational services. “Funding comes from various sources, like donations and some government grants. We are in the process of becoming a Medicaid healthcare provider, so that will also bring down our operational costs. If they end up as full time employees they qualify for insurance through Creed’s Lake.” I explained.
“As a social worker with many years of experience under my belt, I’m impressed. I do sometimes come across DV victims and would love more of your cards to hand out.” She said.
“In that case, we do not just hand out cards to just anyone. You’d be given one to reach out to us, and we would review the case with you. If we feel it’s a case for us to take on, we would give you further instructions. We do a very in depth background check on all of our DV victims prior to offering our services. It’s not a secret that we offer these services, but we don’t exactly offer them publicly. That’s to protect our community and it’s residents. They aren’t always brought to Creed’s Lake. Sometimes we refer cases to satellite groups that can take them to safe houses. As I’m sure you’re aware, it’s not always as easy as the victims running away with their children. There are custody issues, and this is where our law practice comes into play. Only a portion of it is done pro-bono and we do have paying clients. We can’t put their cases at risk by having our attorneys stripped of their licenses. We have to be very careful as far as the law is concerned.”
“It’s wonderful to know there are organizations out there to help these people.” She said.
