“No, I just want to look around, okay?”
The store was filled with hundreds of little white dresses. There were maybe ten out of the hundreds that were either a pale pink or blue. The rest were all white.
“How old is your daughter?” the sales lady asked.
“I don’t have any kids.”
She made a sympathetic sound. “Awww, I am so sorry,” she said. “Are you shopping for something for a niece or nephew, perhaps?”
Hey, lady, I wanted to say, bug off. There’s nothing wrong with not having any kids.
Then the phone rang. "Pardon,” she said, and hurried into the back of the store. On her way through the door she hollered, “Margot! Viens ici!”
The young girl who emerged wore a deep, permanent scowl on her face and a large loose gray T-shirt that hid her body almost to her knees. A blue-and-white bandanna covered her head, and her face was makeup free. She looked about seventeen years old.
“Hi, Margot. I’m Seychelle Sullivan.”
She jerked her head toward the racks of dresses on the far side of the front door.
When we got there, I pretended to look through the dresses, sliding each little hanger around the metal bar. “Do you know who I am?”
She nodded.
“Juliette told me you would talk to me,” I said. “You know something about the Miss Agnes?"
“Yes.”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“Yes.” She didn’t say anything more, and I was beginning to think this was pointless when she added, “He killed my brother.”
The suddenness of her revelation startled me. “Who did?”
“Le Capitaine.”
“The captain of the Miss Agnes killed your brother?”
“Oui.” It sounded more like a sharp inhalation than a word. She looked out at the crowd and scanned the faces, then turned back to me. “Very bad man. In Haiti, he was Ton- ton Macoute. Everybody afraid of him.” She looked to the back of the store, and she sniffed. “I not. My brother was come from Haiti take me home. He pay Le Capitaine eight hundred dollar to come for me. Get away from Madame. That why Le Capitaine, he opened his head.”
“Your brother died of head wounds?”
“Oui, they told me Le Capitaine put everybody in the sea, then he cut Jean-Pierre. Push him in the sea, too. He like it when some can’t swim. He laugh.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice shaky. Her dark eyes gazed past me, reflecting the red circus lights like a pair of smoldering coals. I actually felt scared watching the hatred in her face. I didn’t know much about Haiti, but I had heard of the Macoutes—Papa and later Baby Doc’s much- feared security force. No wonder this guy was so good with a machete. “Your brother didn’t want you to work as a restavek any longer?”
She shook her head. “1 come to Florida eight month ago. No school, only work. Jean-Pierre say he take me to school. Now ...” She shrugged.
“Margot, I am trying to help another girl. She’s younger than you are, and she came on the Miss Agnes this week. She was coming to live with her father here in the States, and I need to find him.”
She shook her head. “All the girl come on Miss Agnes are restavek here in Florida.”
I turned from her and held up a dress as though for her approval. My eyes swung across the crowd, and I noticed a familiar face. Then the face was gone. He had melted back into the sea of faces, but I would know that pockmarked skin and that zigzag eyebrow anywhere. What was Gil Lynch doing at the Swap Shop? Following me?
“Margot!” The saleslady emerged from the back of the shop shouting.
“Ma’am,” I called out to her, “is it okay if Margot helps me pick out a dress for my niece? She’s a very sweet girl.”
The shop owner looked astonished that anyone would call this scowling girl sweet, but she was afraid to lose the sale, so she left us alone.
I pulled a dress off a rack and held it up, asking Margot to tell me what she thought. The music from the circus swelled, and the audience oooed. Apparently the elephants had entered the ring. I scanned the crowd again, trying to spot Gil. For just a second, I questioned whether he had really been there. Where was Joe?
The girl pointed to the lace around the collar of the little dress, and she said quietly, “You stop Le Capitaine?”
She wanted something from me that I couldn’t promise. I put the dress back, moved a little farther down the rack, and examined a pale blue dress with a deep V neckline. Why the hell would a seven-year-old kid wear a neckline like that?
“He know Madame,” she said.
“You mean the woman who owns this store?” I jerked my head toward the woman with the fingernail jewels and then whipped a dress off the rack and held it up as though for her opinion. “She’s a friend? Of the captain of the Miss Agnes?”
Again, she nodded almost imperceptibly. “No friend. Business. He name Joslin Malheur. He come see Madame two day ago. He pay her money.”
“Margot! Qu’est-ce qui ce pas?” Madame called from across the store. I didn’t know what she was saying, but I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was suspicious.
I grabbed the biggest dress off the rack. “I’ll take this one,” I said, handed it to the girl, and followed her back to the cash register. The older woman rang up the sale, her lips pursed, her long nails clicking on the machine’s keys. Margot bagged my purchase, her eyes downcast. When I’d received my change, I said to the girl, “You were going to point out the ladies’ room?”
We walked to the store’s entrance and were once again enveloped in the music and roar of the circus crowd. She pointed to the stairs and explained that I should turn left at the top to find the ladies’ room. I whispered to her.
“Do you know where I can find him?”
“He tell Madame he go back to Bahamas on Bimini Express.”
“Thank you very much, Margot.” I turned to go, but Margot reached out and grabbed my forearm.
“You help Juliette?” She gripped my arm even tighter and moved in, her mouth close to my ear. “Monsieur Gohin. He hurt her.” She turned around and hurried to the back of the store.
I plunged into the crowd and made my way away from the store and the prying eyes of Madame. My stomach churned as I thought about Margot’s last words. She had to have been referring to sexual abuse. Child slavery. I looked at the smiling crowds leaving the circus bleachers. Would any of them ever believe such a thing was happening in their backyards?
I’d heard of the Bimini Express. It was a little interisland freighter that usually sailed in and out of either Port Laudania or the Miami River. Back when I was a kid, Red used to work some jobs down on the Miami River. I’d gone with him, and I vaguely remembered seeing that name on a little freighter even back then.
Clutching my purchase, I wormed my way through the crowd that was now breaking up. Evidently the circus had finished. I looked everywhere for a familiar face, but there was no sign of either Joe or Gil. I decided to head over to the stairs to see if Joe was on the upper level, and he seemed to magically materialize at my side.
“How’d it go?” he said.
“I’ve been looking all over for you. How come I didn’t see you till you were right next to me?”
He winked. “Trade secrets.” He pointed at an electronics booth jammed with stereo gear. “See that store? It’s owned by a buddy of mine. He let me stand behind the counter. You weren’t looking at the people behind the counters.”
“You’re good,” I said.
He shrugged. “My buddy and me, we’ve been catching up a little about the old days. Things were really good back then.”