didn't tell me you were here. I'll stall him and say I saw you in the dorms. Then, I'm going to suggest to him that he could make a lot of money if we worked together." Tiffany picked up and held her friend's hands. "Then, Brenda, when we get to Vegas, we're going to escape." She tightened her grip. "Can you do it? Are you in?"
Brenda's responding nod was barely perceptible. It wasn't the powerful confirmation Tiffany had hoped for, but at least it was something. Watching her friend head off to do the sabotage, Tiffany prayed.
Pacing her room, Tiffany exhaled deeply, trying to relax. She had her doubts Brenda would be able to pull off the sabotage of the satellite dish. Tiffany was buying time. She knew it wouldn't be long before Drejohn realized his captive was not just a bored suburban teen. What would he do when he found out?
After zipping up the duffle bag she'd put together for the trip to Las Vegas, Tiffany headed downstairs. She'd promised Brenda she'd keep Drejohn occupied so there'd be little likelihood Brenda would get caught in her act of destruction.
She hadn't expected to see Drejohn in the kitchen, but he was there with Big M and Ginger. Their heads were bent over a clipboard.
"Nah, that bitch Vegas ain't been workin' good at all," Big M said. "You need to send her up to Oakland. Let her learn what's what."
Ginger nodded her head.
"Okay," said Drejohn, "I'll take Laylo, Destiny, and Tiffany to Vegas."
"What about double D? She'd bring a ton of money." Big M said, throwing a glance at Tiffany as she entered the room.
"She's got terrific tits, but she's been nothin' but problems since she got here. I don't want to risk it. I can't take her to Vegas; she might burn down the whole damn hotel."
"Drejohn," Tiffany said, "I know Brenda is here and I think she should go to Vegas with me."
The large man slowly turned toward her. Tiffany fought to keep fear off her face.
"You know, Princess, I'm not sure I care what you think. Just who the hell do you think you are to be telling me how to run my business?"
She swallowed. "I've taken a bunch of business courses. I just finished an advanced class in marketing. One of the key things we learned in the class was that to sell something, the salesperson had to be comfortable. If they were the least bit nervous, it would ruin the sale." What she was saying was pure nonsense, but she figured Drejohn wouldn't know that.
"Let's face it," she continued, "neither Brenda nor I have done this kind of work before. But together, we'd feel more comfortable. It would be easier for us. In fact, if you have a computer handy, I could show you some of the wild stuff we've done on the Senior Year networking site. It's probably pretty much what you're selling on your site."
"Really?" It was Big M. He took a step closer to Tiffany, clearly intrigued by the wild streak he imagined of the two preppy teenagers. "She's got a point, Dre. Here you got the ice princess and pair her with double D's huge tits, I bet you could get three 'K' a night for them."
"Shut the fuck up, Big M! I'm callin' the shots, not you."
"I'm just sayin."
"If you don't shut up you'll be 'just sayin' to your momma." He turned his attention from Big M to Tiffany. "Where is Brenda?" He said her name is if it pained him.
"Last place I saw her was the dorm."
Suddenly, a shriek filled the air, reminding Tiffany of a screeching peacock. One of the girls from the dorm ran into the kitchen, her eyes wide with fright.
"That new girl, double D, has hung herself off the generator shed!"
MADDIE – 75
It was almost too simple. Checking through the contacts on Pleasure Treasure's phone, we found the number for Drejohn – no last name. Maybe he was the Bono or Usher of the porn industry and was only known by one name. We didn't have much to go on, but we were running short of time.
"I'll call him up and ask for a girl to match Tiffany's description," Darius said.
"Don't you think we should check with Vice and see if they know this character?" I asked.
"The Vice Unit is off today because they worked all weekend, and there's no money to bring somebody in on overtime. How do you think this 'Dre' is going to react when he learns he's snatched the governor's daughter?"
"We don't know that he hasn't figured it out yet. Let's just hope kidnapping her is all he's done. The last thing we need for him to do is panic."
Darius was trying to play it cool, but he was nervous. For the first time ever, I saw him pacing and talking to himself. I think he was rehearsing what he was going to say if he got Drejohn on the phone.
We'd ensconced ourselves in a small interview room. Darius took a deep breath and used an untraceable city phone to call Drejohn's number. I had a headset on which allowed me to listen to the call without the 'echo effect' of being on speakerphone.
"Yo, who's this?"
"Hey, Dre, this is the Cut Man. I got your name from my gal Pleasure. She said you could fix me up with a prime piece of ass."
"I don't know what you're talkin' about, man."
"Look, man, I don't got time for games. I'm in L.A. for a couple of hours, doin' a major business deal. I'm kinda stressed and I got some time to kill. I knew Pleasure from back in the day. She said she wasn't workin' no more, but she could set me up with prime pussy. She told me to call you. Now, can you hook me up or not?"
"Let me tell you somethin' Cut Man, I don't know who in the hell you are. Let me call my girl and verify what you're sayin' is righteous. What exactly are you lookin' for?"
Darius gave a physical description of Tiffany, then tossed the bait. "Dre, listen to me, man. I'm looking for unspoiled goods. I want top-shelf, virgin pussy, but no little girls. She's gotta be at least sixteen. You understand? It's worth twenty-five K to me."
"Give me a number."
Darius rattled off the number of the phone he was calling from.
"I'll get back to you," Drejohn said, and the line went dead.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at my partner.
"Do you know how hard it is to find a virgin today?"
"I can't say I've ever thought about it," I replied.
"Let's just say, it'd be easier to get you and Larry-the-Wife-Beater on a date together than find an un-deflowered sixteen year-old."
"It would cost the Wife-Beater a hell of a lot more money than twenty-five thousand to go on a date with me." Our banter was interrupted by the ringtone of Pleasure Treasure's cell phone. I wasn't surprised. The melody was a familiar one, and I sang along, "Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."
TRAVIS – 76
A little before two, Travis turned his truck over to the parking attendant. The car jockey greeted him like an old friend. Travis made his way into the waiting room, relieved to find it empty. A few minutes later, Doctor Stevens ushered him into her office. They each took the same seats they'd sat in the day before. They'd barely gotten settled when the doctor asked her first question.
"Tell me, Travis, how did you feel after you left here yesterday?"
"Fine."
She looked at him expectantly, pursing her lips when he didn't elaborate. "Did you discuss our session with your wife?"
At the mention of Maddie, he immediately tensed. He had no intention of talking about his wife. "Yeah, a little." Another long pause filled the room.
"What did she say?"
"Look, doc, I don't want to talk about my wife. She's off-limits here." He hadn't intended for his tone to be so harsh. Travis watched the doctor's eyebrows rise in surprise.
"Why is that?"
"I'm here because of what happened to Dave. Maddie has nothing to do with that." He struggled to catch his breath and hoped the doctor hadn't noticed. "I'm screwed up because Dave died. It has nothing to do with her."
"You seem awfully protective of your wife. Is there some reason why she needs protection?"
He averted his eyes. He didn't want the doctor to read his face.
"Travis, what are you afraid of? What is it about your wif
e you don't want to tell me?"
The staccato ticking of the clock on Doctor Stevens' desk reminded Travis of being on a game show with seconds to spare before revealing a correct answer.
The dilemma was a promise he'd made to Maddie that he'd never tell a living soul about the night both their lives changed forever. Yet keeping the secret was killing their marriage.
Avoidance of discussion or comfort regarding the incident inflicted additional punctures into the body of their love. Their marriage needed life-support. Maybe the shrink could help – or maybe she'd contact the chief and tell him that both Travis and Maddie were screwed up and neither were fit for duty.
"Travis, I can see this is hard for you. Do you believe Maddie would get angry for discussing your need to protect her?"
He didn't want to be stupid about this. He'd always mentally bundled department shrinks and Internal Affairs detectives in the same untrustworthy package. From his first days in a black and white, he'd been indoctrinated that the two entities never kept a police officer's well being in mind. Lowered voices in the parking lots or locker rooms passed along advice that the shrinks and 'headhunters' were out to get you. The less you told them, the better.
"I've already told you Maddie's off limits. We can talk about me, Dave, or anything else, but I won't discuss Maddie." He started to get up. "If we're done, I'll get goin'."
"Travis, please wait. Why don't you tell me about your life growing up? As a child, how did you perceive your role in the family?"
He sank back in his seat and shrugged. He knew exactly where he stood in his dysfunctional
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