Family. Now there was a word that made me smile. That was the word that my aunt, Evangeline, had used when she called from Sacramento. “How are you and your growing family?” she had asked, her voice cheerful and full of affection.
“I think the baby’s fine, but I haven’t had a chance to tell his father yet. Joe’s still undercover in Reno.”
“Are you taking your pre-natal vitamins and eating fresh food?”
Evangeline sounded a bit like Sadie, and I appreciated her taking a parental role. We talked for a few more minutes, agreeing she would visit in a few weeks when Sacramento State had its spring break.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I would love to be close to my brother’s grandchild.”
I didn’t mind. Not one bit.
“Well, you take care now. I’m counting on everything to be wonderful.”
So was I.
It was still light when I parked on the street in front of Simon’s apartment building. I reached into the backseat to grab a pair of high-heeled boots Veronica had suggested I bring. “I don’t think you and I have the same shoe size,” she had said.
Both of them were waiting for me in the apartment. Simon offered to make me a cup of tea while Veronica began examining the boots and then pulled open a suitcase of clothes she had brought over, holding garments up to my shoulders to gauge a likely fit.
Half an hour later I looked in the mirror in Simon’s bedroom. I was wearing a red miniskirt and my boots. No net stockings. “You go barelegged on this job,” Veronica had said.
A cheap black rayon tee was stretched over my expanding breasts and cut low to reveal several inches of cleavage, barely covering the nipples. A pink shrug barely covered my arms. A black silky purse hung over one shoulder. I had to say I looked amazingly like the hooker I was supposed to be. But it was discomfiting. I had to push away doubts about my mission.
“Now the makeup and hair,” said Veronica, taking my arm and leading me into the bathroom. Another twenty minutes while Veronica applied makeup: mascara, eyeshadow and liner and a lipstick color I had never before seen, much less worn. Then she sprinkled some glittery stuff on my eyelids and teased my hair into a helmet. I looked again in the mirror.
Unbelievable. A woman for sale, no doubt about it.
She sent me back into Simon’s living room while she dressed herself. I sat tentatively on the edge of a kitchen chair, sipping tea and trying not to smudge any of Veronica’s work.
“I wish you would let me go with you,” said Simon. His gray head was bowed and his bony hands rubbed back and forth across his knees.
Still overwhelmed by the risk I was about to take, I decided to trust Simon with another mission. “Do you know where Veronica is taking me?”
“I know the house she thinks your guy is in.”
I looked steadily at Simon’s gray eyes. Where I once saw hatred, now I saw sympathy. “If Ronnie and I are not back in an hour, would you be willing to call the police and give them that address?”
His head went down and his hands started to tremble. “Ronnie won’t like that idea.”
“I know she won’t, but Simon, I need backup of some kind. I can’t call Wynan. It’s too late and he’s an hour away.”
“Okay. Just don’t ever tell Ronnie I agreed to this.”
I reached into my handbag and gave him the card the Reno Police Chief had given to me. “This is the chief’s direct line. Use my name. He’ll know what I’m trying to do even if he disapproves of it.”
A ghost of a smile appeared on Simon’s face. “Oh, I’m sure he’ll disapprove. Christ, Red, I disapprove. Ronnie may know her way around here, but you’re a civilian, kid. I know how to use a gun even if I’m ancient. So I still wish you would let me at least tag along.”
“Well, you can’t. One sight of you with the two of us and they won’t even open the door,” said Veronica emerging from the bathroom dressed in tight pants and top with only a little less makeup than mine. Her gray blond hair was covered with a curly dark brown wig that set off her eyes. Clearly she had been striking when she was younger.
Simon smiled weakly. “Well, I’d hire either one of you for an evening.”
“That’s my boy,” said Veronica, planting a kiss on the top of his head and then turning to me. “You ready to walk out, missy?”
I stood up, tottering a bit on the heels of my boots. Simon grabbed my elbow and then walked me to his desk. He opened the drawer. A small revolver sat in the center. “Put this in your little black purse,” he said, handing me the gun. “I’ll feel better knowing you have it.”
“Thank you.”
“You do know how to use that, don’t you?” Simon leaned closer to me. I could feel the heat of his breath.
“I know how,” I said. Joe had taught me to shoot at the range outside of Landry. Teaching me how to use a gun along with the self-defense lessons had been Joe’s way of coping with my tendency to take risks. I guess he’d figured I was incurable. He’d been right.
Veronica grabbed my arm and headed me toward the door. “C’mon, let’s go get this deadbeat dad.”
The night was chilly and the pink shrug did not provide any warmth. Veronica kept her hand on my arm as we walked away from the apartment building.
“Walk faster and swing your hips a little. You’re walking like a schoolteacher instead of a working girl.”
“I am a schoolteacher.”
She gave one of her snorts. “Try not to look like one.”
We passed more apartment buildings and came to a corner with a delicatessen and a blinking sign indicating an emergency clinic one flight up above the store. Two men with short beards, both dressed in jeans and leather jackets, were leaning against the door to the deli. Their eyes never left us as we approached. “Evening, ladies,” said the older of the two. “You here to show us a good time?”
“Not tonight,” snapped Veronica. “We have an important errand to run.”
“Ooh, important errand. How about that. Nice tits on your red-haired friend. You bring her back this way, okay?” His eyes bugged out at me.
“Oh, mama. I’ll pay double for you,” said the younger man, grinding his hips in my direction.
The light changed and Veronica half dragged me across the street and away from the two men.
“I guess I passed,” I said.
“Of course you passed. I know how to doll a girl up nice. Just stay in the game when we get to the next block.”
I shivered against the March wind and noticed my nipples had reacted to the chill and were obvious against the thin material of the t-shirt top.
The apartment buildings were replaced by a line of frame houses set only a few feet apart and separated by scrubby patches of grass and gravel and chain-link fences. “Beware of Dog” signs were attached to each one and the sound of barking drowned out the click of our heels on the sidewalk.
We turned the corner and came to a house slightly larger than its neighbors set back from the sidewalk by a concrete parking pad. Veronica stopped. “This is it. This is where Green Eyes is supposed to work.”
I looked up at the two-story house. Lights were on in every window and the sound of music came from inside. The house was shabby and in need of a paint job. Facing the street was a small front porch and a set of steps down to the concrete pad. I sensed the movement of people behind the curtains but could not actually see anyone, just shadows against the lights.
“You’re sure you want to do this?” Veronica was looking at the door to the house.
I felt a shudder not related to the cold air. I gripped the little black bag to feel the hard shape of the revolver. “I’m sure,” I said. The possibility of seeing Joe overcame my fear.
The door to the house opened. “We’ve been spotted,” said Veronica. “Let me do the talking.”
An enormous man stepped out under
the porch light. He must have been six foot six with a massive torso encased in a tight satin shirt. He walked toward us, the muscles in his shoulders moving in a rolling pattern. His hair was thick and black and his eyes dark brown. He looked for all the world like a large male version of Danica Boerum, only twice as frightening. Maybe Rosie was right and the Boerum family was in more than one business.
The man stopped and surveyed us. A slight grin revealed a front tooth made of gold. It matched a gold chain that hung down the front of the open shirt. He circled around us and came back to face us. “What brings you here, Ronnie? You trying to sell this bitch?”
He transferred his gaze from Veronica to me and looked me over slowly and carefully.
“Nice, but a little old for my customers,” he said, grinning and flashing his gold tooth among startling white teeth. His large fingers twisted the chain hanging down in the gap in his shirt. “But I wouldn’t mind doing her myself. What’s your name, Red?”
“Patty,” I said, giving the name Veronica had told me to use.
He whistled through his teeth. “Patty Cake. Patty Cake. Baker’s man. Bake me a cake as fast as you can. Well, darlin’, I’m the baker’s man for you.” He ran two fingers down my neck and into the front of my shirt between my breasts. I winced. But I felt his sexual power. This was how a pimp worked.
“Leave her be for now, Al,” Veronica said softly. “She needs to see one of your drivers. Tall dude with green eyes.”
The man withdrew his hand and his smile. His voice turned icy. “What she need to see him for?”
“Something they have to settle between them. Is he here?”
Al cupped my breasts with his hands and breathed hot sour air into my face. “So, Patty Cake,” his voice velvet again, “what will I get in return for getting your tall dude out here?”
I stifled my gag reflex. “Whatever you want, baby. Whatever you want.”
The toothy smile came back and he turned toward the house. From the back his shoulders looked even broader than before and his legs encased in tight pants were massive and muscled.
“Jesus, what do I do if he comes back?”
There was a disturbing note of uncertainty in Veronica’s reply. “Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.”
We stood in the darkness for what felt like an eternity. Then the door opened again and a surprising version of Joe Morgan stepped under the porch light. He was dressed in the same kind of satin shirt the first man had worn, open to the waist, a gold chain against his chest. He peered into the darkness. When he saw me, he staggered for a moment, then regained his balance and strode forward.
“What the hell are you doing here?” His hand clamped down on my shoulder. “What’s this get-up? And who’s this woman?”
Veronica stepped away into the darkness behind her, leaving Joe and me alone, facing each other on the sidewalk.
“She’s helping me. I had to find you, Joe. Your contact has been injured, he’s in the hospital.”
“I know. He was stabbed in a fight. Why in the name of God would the chief send you to tell me that?”
I put my hand on his shoulder just to touch him. “He didn’t send me. I came on my own.”
Joe pulled away. “Shit, Red. Why? You could get both of us killed.”
“I know. But I had to know you were alive, and I have to tell you that Norm O’Hare told me both departments, Landry and Reno, are going to sweep the neighborhoods tomorrow to find you.”
Joe looked agonized. “That’ll drive them to ground and they’ll take the girls with them. You have to get out of here and tell them to back off.”
“When can you get out of this?”
“I was going to try for tomorrow, but I need time to set things up if I am going to bring Snowbird out with me.”
“So you found her.”
“Yeah, but just yesterday. Red, you have to get to the chief. Tell him to cancel the search. Instead, tell him to send in a small, and I mean small, force at five thirty tomorrow afternoon. A shipment is coming in then. The house will be full of illegal Asian girls, all underage. They can make a good bust if they don’t screw up and put these bastards on alert.” He looked around to make sure no one else had come out of the house.
Al’s face appeared in the window. Joe took a step closer. “Red, you have to get out of here now. Back off and yell something at me. And, honey, I’m sorry, I’m going to have to hit you in the face and tell you to leave and not come back. Al has to believe we’ve had a fight.”
“Joe, I…”
“Now, Red. Now.”
I backed away. “You lousy bastard,” I screamed at him.
His hand struck my face so hard I almost fell into the street. Then he turned and shouted over his shoulder, “And don’t come back, bitch. Ever.”
Veronica’s hand appeared from behind me and tugged at my elbow. “We gotta leave now. Before Al decides to come out and collect his fee.”
That frightened me enough to move quickly with Veronica down the street and away into the night.
Chapter 19
Even before he came into his office, I could hear the Reno Police Chief’s voice shouting at one of his men about being dragged away from the dinner table to “talk to some hooker who wouldn’t talk to anyone else.”
My cheek was still red and my jaw still ached from the force of Joe’s slap. I had left Veronica on the sidewalk next to my car in front of Simon’s apartment house. “Thank you. Thank you,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “Please give this gun back to Simon. It makes me nervous.”
“Don’t you want to come upstairs and change back into your clothes?”
“Not now. First I have a message to deliver.”
Annoyance covered her face. “To the cops, right? Your dude is undercover.”
“I’m sorry, Veronica. I would have liked to trust you but I wasn’t sure. I hope I can trust you now. His life depends upon you keeping his secret.”
She took a deep breath and then put her hands on my shoulders, “You can, but you were right, Meredith. You shouldn’t trust me or any other folks you don’t know. Not in this town. But you can trust me with this. I won’t spill. It’s time Big Al got his. He’s mean to his girls. As far as that raid goes, my mouth stays shut. That goes for your green-eyed cop too.”
“Thank you, Ronnie. For everything. I’ll come back for my clothes later if that’s okay.”
“Come when you can. Simon doesn’t go to bed until midnight.” I wondered for a brief moment just how she knew that. “Take your time. I just worry you’ll have a hard time getting through to the Chief looking like you do.”
“I have to do this as soon as possible.”
“Good luck. See you later.”
The Reno Police Chief stood in the doorway of his office staring at me. Then recognition. “Dr. Solaris?”
“Yes, Chief. It’s me. I’m dressed like this because I went looking for Joe Morgan.”
“You did what?”
“I dressed like a prostitute to go look for Joe Morgan.”
“Holy shit, lady. You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“I know. But I found him and he gave me a message for you.”
The Chief walked toward his desk, his eyes still fastened on me.
“You could have blown his cover and gotten both of you shot, you know.”
“I know. But I was careful not to blow his cover. He’s fine.”
“Whew. I thought Morgan was reckless, but his girlfriend…Jesus, you college professors are something else.”
“I’m sorry, Chief, but I knew someone in the neighborhood where Joe is, and I thought I could help.” I tried to look as humble and contrite as possible.
The chief scowled. “What’s the message?”
I handed him a piece of his own notepaper I had appropriated from his desk w
hile I waited for him. “Joe says to call off the search party or you’ll drive the ring away with their girls. He says to instead send a small squad to this address at five thirty tomorrow afternoon. He says the pimp in that house is expecting a delivery of underage girls and that you could make a good bust.”
“Whose house is it?”
“Somebody named Al. A big man.”
The Chief picked up his phone and called for a detective to join us. “This is Henry Jankowski, head of our sex crimes division.”
Henry was muscular and young. He gave me a tentative smile.
“Henry, this is Dr. Meredith Solaris. She’s normally the dean of the journalism school at Mountain West. Tonight she dressed as a hooker and went undercover to find her boyfriend, Joe Morgan.”
Jankowski’s jaw dropped. “You really look the part, Dr. Solaris. Did you find him?” The Chief handed Jankowski my note. “Great. Morgan’s a good cop. Whose house?”
“Al. Big man.”
“I’ll be damned. Big Al, a.k.a. Big Daddy Al, a.k.a. Alistair Boerum. All the way here from LA. Wonder why?”
Oh my God.
“Is Big Al related to Danica Boerum?”
“The Purist woman? The one giving a speech tomorrow night at your school?”
“Yes, that woman.”
Jankowski shrugged. “I dunno. I never connected the two of them, but if he is, it might explain why he’s come up here from LA. Although I’ve never known a pimp to be much interested in politics.”
Oh, Rosie. How right you were.
“I have a student newspaper editor who was once trafficked in LA and says she knows a woman who looks like Danica Boerum from there.”
The Chief frowned. “I suppose it’s possible, but I have a hard time seeing a right-wing politico and a big-time pimp from LA having much in common.”
“Unless they’re family,” I said.
“Well, we’ve never had reason to check her out or determine where she came from. But the idea that an LA pimp would be related to a Purist speaker seems a stretch.”
The Chief was right. It didn’t make sense. But Rosie had been attacked by a man who fit Big Al’s description, attacked for a reason—even if it didn’t make sense yet.
Red Solaris Mystery Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 60
