Page 10 of Ultimate Justice

A hundred more questions, and Evan would only have scratched the surface. “What else didn’t you like about the camp?” Could be this was a forced child labor camp.

“I don’t know.” Without looking at him, Noah twisted his lips and wrinkled his nose.

The kid was shutting down again. Evan caught Marlie’s gaze, silently asking her to step in.

“Noah,” she said softly. “It’s still okay to talk to Agent McGarry. Tell him what else you didn’t like about the camp.”

“Okay,” he said finally. “I didn’t like the way everything smelled.”

“What did it smell like?” Evan asked.

“Like pot. It got into my clothes, my bed…everything.”

“Were there people smoking pot there?” he asked.

“Not that I saw.”

Evan tucked that information away for later. “You said there were other kids at the camp,” he continued. “Can you tell me about them, like how many are there, and are they boys and girls?”

Gracie had been gone twenty-four years. If she were still alive, she’d be Evan’s age. Thirty-six.

When Noah’s brow bunched, Marlie rested a hand on his shoulder. “Take your time. Think carefully. It’s important.”

She had no idea just how important.

“Maybe twenty,” Noah said. “A lot of girls, too.”

Girls. Not women. “How old are these kids?”

“Caleb’s ten. He’s a year younger than me, and I’m eleven. Some of the other kids are older, but most of them are my age. Except for the baby.” He grimaced. “It was always crying.”

“Did all these other kids run away from home, too?”

Before answering, Noah looked at Marlie. Clearly, he didn’t want to get the other kids in trouble.

“Tell him,” Marlie said.

“Yeah. Except for the baby. I think it was born there.”

Evan knew the statistics like the back of his hand. Many runaways were between ten and fourteen and couldn’t fully take care of themselves yet. Making them easy prey. The presence of an infant suggested something else entirely. “Are there any adults besides Frank at the camp?”

“Yeah.” Noah nodded. “John and Margaret. They told us what to do when Adama and Evelyn weren’t there.”

Interesting. Sounded like a play on Adam and Eve. “Who are Adama and Evelyn?”

“I think they own the camp.”

“Do they have last names?”

Noah thought hard, then shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Can you describe them for me? Hair color, eyes?”

He shook his head. “I never saw them, just heard about them.”

Absentee owners. Typical of some criminal operations. Frank Manello could be the front-man. John and Margaret, the managers. “What are John and Margaret’s last names?”

“I don’t know.”