rules and that we work together.”
“Your recent conversation with the minister of justice about human trafficking might indicate otherwise.”
“I think the minister gave good insight into the issue.”
“The plan is to keep this government on track. To complete the items we have set forward. We’re under a lot of pressure,” Ferris said.
Like the girls who are being trafficked? That kind of pressure?
“We just want to make sure we are all on the same page,” Brennan added, readjusting himself in his chair. She expected Ferris to do the same, but he didn’t.
That factory sure had tight quality control.
“Thank you, Brennan. I’ll keep it in mind.”
“We’re not asking you to keep it in mind. We’re asking you, reminding you, to comply.”
First off, nobody tells me what to do. Least of all not in my own office. And second of all, don’t go up against me. I’m not going away. And I’m not backing down. Not to you. Not to the justice minister. And not to—
She caught herself. Be disciplined. Be rational. This is a long race. No point in getting them upset. At least not now. Now to change the subject.
“I’d be curious to know, what kinds of private members’ bills are important to the Conservative Party?”
I have to switch your train off the track you’re on. That factory where they came from had the two men so focused on their agenda that Joy realized there was no point in arguing. Not now. Her suggestion changed the temperature of the conversation. The men seemed to think they had won. Brennan and Ferris looked to each other to see who was going to respond. For the first time they seemed ill-prepared.
“That would be a matter for you to resolve with the House leader.”
Good move. Fall back on protocol. Joy expected them to do nothing less.
“Thank you. After all, we don’t want to put a bill forward that won’t get passed, right?” she said with a smile and a laugh. The men nodded. In unison.
She saw them to the door.
“Thanks for stopping by,” she said with a smile. They said goodbye. When the door closed, her smiled faded. Joy and Joel returned to her office.
“We have to keep this thing totally quiet,” Joy said.
“Understood. It stays with us and with those drafting the bill until it gets tabled in the House of Commons. And then it’s all going to break loose. There’s going to be a lot of angry people. Including the guys who just walked out the door.”
Joy turned and looked out her window at the Centennial Flame. She often took inspiration from it as a reminder of the sacrifices that had been made throughout the years to preserve Canada’s democracy. And it reminded her of the need to press forward to combat human trafficking. Even as the flame burned under the golden sun, Joy felt herself fueled by a strong conviction that people should not be bought and sold. Third name drawn on the list, Joy thought. If that isn’t confirmation, what else would be?
“Get ready, Joel,” Joy said. “This is going to be a very bumpy ride.”
chapter eight
Considering how many ways she could be caught, Abby found it surprisingly easy to set up her plan. Tell Mom I want to sleep over at Kedisha’s place Friday night. That won’t be so much of a stretch. But then I have to make up a lie about Saturday night, which will be tougher. Maybe Kedisha has a friend who has a friend … No, that’s a bit too far removed, and Mom would get concerned. Keep it simple.
Let’s say Kedisha’s grandparents have a cabin up in Muskoka. On Saturday after the sleepover they invite me for a day trip up there with them, but then they think of staying for the night, and I don’t want to spoil their fun by making them come all the way back. Besides, what’s the big deal? I’m with Kedisha. Unless of course Mom asks to speak with Kedisha’s mother to see if it really is all right. Such is life. You can’t cover every angle.
Besides, she figured, there was enough in there for a believable story.
She packed a change of clothes, toiletries, makeup and a second pair of shoes into her backpack. She would meet him on Friday. Come back Sunday night.
Abby left school before lunch. Kedisha caught a glimpse of her heading out the door. Found it strange that Abby’s backpack was so stuffed. Thinking back on it, Abby seemed excited yet distant that morning. Wore a nice ring to go with her new necklace.
The bright sunshine warmed her as she walked through the doors. She took in a breath of fresh air. The beautiful weather would have been enough to put a smile on her face. But what really made her happy was seeing that red Mustang out front with the top down and a hot guy in the driver’s seat waiting for her.
“Hey, beautiful!” Jake said. Abby threw her bag in the back seat and opened the door. It felt like a bank heist. They had the money. They were into the getaway vehicle. Now it came down whether they could take off without being caught.
“Hey, Jake!”
They kissed. Jake wanted to hang on longer, but Abby pulled away.
“Go, go, go!” she said, sensing that the armed guards from the bank were about to come out shooting. Jake gunned the engine. She felt the rush of air around the car, enveloping them in their own private world. She counted to five. That would be enough time. If she was going to be caught, it would have happened by now. She looked back. Saw the school disappear in the distance.
“Yes!”
She felt the seat against her back. The smell of leather was intoxicating. Jake turned on music. The Tragically Hip’s “Blow at High Dough” pounded through the speakers. She twisted the ring he gave her as they sang the words.
…Yeah, I can get behind anything.
She reached out and touched his hand. They locked fingers. Without looking, she reached into her jeans pocket with her right hand and turned off her cellphone. She glanced over at Jake. He wore brown sunglasses, a button-down shirt rolled up the elbows and clean designer blue jeans. She wanted a pair just like them.
Wooo, baby, I feel fine, I’m pretty sure it’s genuine.
“We can take the 401 all the way there,” Jake said. “Or we can cut down at Port Hope to Highway 2 for part of the way. It’ll add a little time, but it’s a nicer ride.”
“That’d be great. I’ve never been out that way.”
“Something new then.”
Sometimes the faster it gets the less you need to know.
They pulled off the 401 at Port Hope and ordered takeout. Jake, a hamburger and fries. Abby, a sandwich, salad and bottled water. Jake paid in cash again. They ate a picnic table near the waterfront. After lunch, they took the alternate route. Abby saw the sign that read “The King’s Highway 2 Ontario.” It reminded her of a Tom Petty song. The drive proved to be slower with a speed limit in some places of 80 km/hr and reduced
