Scarlett’s surprised expression told Marcus that this crass behavior wasn’t the lieutenant’s norm. Curious, he held his temper and sat at the table, letting Scarlett take the lead.

‘Has she been fed?’ Scarlett asked quietly.

‘Yes,’ the social worker answered. ‘Ms Church fed her, and I gave her another bottle while we waited for you. I changed her, too. I think she’s just scared and tired, but Mr O’Bannion seems to have taken care of that.’ The social worker gave him an approving nod.

Scarlett’s glance was equally approving. ‘That’s good.’ She took the seat on Marcus’s right, across from Annabelle. ‘Ms Church,’ she started, ‘thank you for coming in to talk to us. This has been a trying day for so many people.’

Annabelle took her eyes off the sleeping Malaya long enough to nod at Scarlett. ‘I didn’t want to come in with the officer and the social worker. I was hoping Tabby would call me. Nobody will tell me what’s happened to her.’

‘She’s at the hospital, getting very good care,’ Scarlett said. She’d called for an update on her condition as she and Marcus drove to the police station. ‘She was beaten severely.’

Annabelle pressed trembling fingers to lips. ‘Oh my Lord. I was afraid of this. She told me to go, not to come back and not to call the police. She didn’t want to risk Mila and Erica.’

‘Mila and Erica are Tala’s family?’ Scarlett asked, and Annabelle nodded.

‘Mother and younger sister, respectively. Where are they?’ Annabelle asked.

‘We don’t know,’ Scarlett said. ‘We were hoping they were with you.’

‘No, no.’ Annabelle shook her head sadly. ‘I haven’t seen them, not since Tabby gave me the baby.’

‘Why did Tabby think she’d be risking Tala’s family if she called the police?’ Marcus asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

‘She was afraid they’d be deported,’ Annabelle said, ‘or maybe worse. Her nephew told them that the police would put them in jail if they complained. They’re here illegally, but Tabby said they’re good people. I should have said something this morning, but I was afraid for Tabby too. That nephew of hers . . .’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Where is he?’

‘We don’t know that either,’ Scarlett told her. ‘Tabby told us that he, his wife and daughter were taken away at gunpoint.’

‘Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy,’ Annabelle muttered. ‘That man is a beast. He’s been abusing Tabby for years.’

‘Did you know that Tala and her family were being held against their will in the house?’ Isenberg asked.

Annabelle shot her another glare. ‘No, I did not, not until today. I didn’t know about anything other than the fact that Tabby was afraid of her nephew. That I’ve known for a few weeks. I didn’t know there were other people in the house until Tabby called me this morning and asked for my help. She told me that there was a baby in danger and asked me to take the child and ask no questions, just to keep her safe until I heard from her again. And if I didn’t hear from her, to contact you, Mr O’Bannion. She told me the baby’s mother was the girl that was killed in that alley this morning. The one in your article. She said that you would help us.’

‘And I will,’ Marcus said, with a side look at Isenberg. ‘What about Mila and Erica? How do you know their names?’

‘Tabby told me this morning. I came to the house in my golf cart, and she brought the baby to me.’ Annabelle smiled sadly at the child in Marcus’s arms. ‘In a covered basket. Kind of like Moses, I guess. I could see two other women standing in the doorway, holding each other and sobbing. The older woman was clutching a rosary like a lifeline. Tabby said that they were the baby’s grandmother and aunt. I asked why they were giving the baby away, and Tabby told me that the baby’s mother had been murdered this morning and they were afraid of what would happen to the child. I asked why they didn’t come with me, said I’d take them all to the police, but Tabby said they wouldn’t leave the house, that they were afraid of being deported.’

She doesn’t understand, Marcus thought. Annabelle doesn’t know these women were slaves. He wondered if Tabby had known, but then he remembered her saying she hadn’t done enough. Never enough. She had known, he thought, but had probably been too terrified of her nephew to cross him. Considering the severity of the beating Anders had delivered, she had been right to be terrified.

‘Tabby asked me not to tell anyone,’ Annabelle continued, ‘until she could get things sorted out for them. But she said that if something happened to her, she wanted me to call the police anyway. She wanted someone to know their names.’ Two fat tears ran down the woman’s papery cheeks. ‘I didn’t understand. I still don’t. I do charity fund-raisers and give a lot of my money to the needy, but I don’t know this world. I wish I’d followed my instincts and called the police. Those two women might be all right now.’

‘They may still be all right,’ Scarlett said soothingly. ‘Can you give us a description? Maybe sit down with a sketch artist?’

‘Like on the television?’ Annabelle asked. ‘I guess so. I’m not sure how accurate I’ll be. But first I want to see Tabby.’ She half rose, her large purse looking like a suitcase in her frail hands. ‘Which hospital is she in?’

‘County,’ Scarlett told her, ‘but if you’ll work with me a little longer, I’d appreciate it. I’ll even make sure you get a ride to the hospital.’

‘All right.’ The woman sat again and folded her hands over the purse in her lap. ‘What else do you want to know?’

‘I’d like to know how you met Tabby,’ Scarlett said. ‘And when.’

‘It was early in June. I was admiring her hydrangeas,’ Annabelle said. ‘She was sitting outside in a lawn chair with her face to the sun. I called over to her, saying I wished my hydrangeas looked like hers. At first she got startled, like a little rabbit. She didn’t say a word, so I drove away in my cart. The next few days she didn’t come out and the lawn chair was nowhere to be seen. But then one day, she was sitting outside again. I called to her and she waved. A little wave like this.’ Annabelle wiggled her fingers. ‘But she still didn’t say anything. It was like she was afraid someone was listening.’

‘That sounds familiar,’ Marcus muttered, softly patting Malaya’s back as she stirred in his arms. ‘But eventually she did talk to you.’

‘Eventually. We played that little game for a couple of weeks, till one day she got up out of the chair and crossed over to me, using her walker. She introduced herself, gave me a bouquet of the hydrangea blooms, then went back into the house. I thought maybe she was a little . . . you know.’ Annabelle tapped her temple. ‘Dementia. After another couple of weeks we were having actual conversations. Then one day she had a big bruise on her face. She said she’d fallen down the stairs. I knew better, of course. I told her to come with me, to walk away and she could live with me, but she refused. Said she couldn’t leave her girls. I didn’t know what she meant then.’

Her gaze fell to Malaya. ‘But I do now. I wanted to call the police, but Tabby wouldn’t let me. She said everything was fine. She begged me not to call, said she’d send the police away if I did. I should have called. Why didn’t I call?’

Amazingly, it was Isenberg who offered comfort. ‘Because we’re socialized to mind our own business to a certain extent,’ she said, laying a hand over Annabelle’s. ‘Even if you had called, Tabby would have probably told the police that there was no issue, that she had no complaint. You came when she needed you. That counts. That matters. You took that baby and bought her formula and diapers and very likely saved her life. That matters, ma’am.’

The tears were streaming down Annabelle’s face. ‘Thank you, Lieutenant, but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. What I did today was just a drop in the bucket. What can I do to help Mila and Erica? I have resources. I can offer a reward for their return.’