by Julie Hyzy
“Oh,” William said, shaking his head, “No.”
“No?” Her squeaked reply told me she hadn’t expected that answer.
“What I mean is—why don’t we talk for a while first?”
She tilted her head, puzzled. “Talk?”
I leaned forward, as though that would somehow make the sound clearer, the picture more crisp. “Candy,” no doubt a name chosen as hooker pseudonym, just like Sophie’s “Cherie,” put the condom on the bed, and smiled at William. She pulled her left arm over her right, massaging her right wrist, as she glanced downward. A surreptitious check of her watch, from what I could tell.
“We get cozy first,” she said. And in a smooth move, she’d closed the distance between herself and William, to press her body against his, averting her face. Her hands splayed out on his chest and moved upward in a trained way, till she’d connected her fingers behind his neck. “We talk later, yes?”
Leaning away, he reached around to pull her hands away, gripping her forearms. He stepped back. I couldn’t see her face at this point, close as she was to William, but it seemed he reacted to an expression he saw there. “Please, just for a little while …”
She stepped back and canted her head at him. “I no understand. You pay for two hours, yes?”
William took a seat on the bed. Perfect positioning. He patted the mattress next to him offering an avuncular smile, “I want to get to know you. …” he stammered a bit, “… before.”
She sat, but her lower lip jutted out in a manufactured sulk. Her chin down, big eyes stared at William, “You no like me?”
“It’s not that. You’re a very beautiful girl.”
And then he smiled at her.
Her expression softened. William had charmed her, as we knew he could. But the smile he’d shot her was the same sort of smile that had knocked me for a loop in the past.
A shiver ran up my spine, even though the car’s interior had warmed. Despite the fact that this had been arranged, even scripted in parts, despite the fact that there would be no physical intimacies happening here tonight, watching William’s interaction with this woman made me squirm. I didn’t want to see him work his appeal on her. It bugged me. It shouldn’t, but it did.
Bass shouted, “Close up! Close up!”
His small-man voice echoed in my car, tinny and shrill.
“For crying out loud, Bass,” I said, “keep it down. Jeff can hear just fine, you know.”
By the time I finished speaking he’d gotten his close-up of “Candy.” Small-boned, with nice features, she had the unmistakable look of a foreign girl about her. One that would have told me she was off-the-boat Polish, even before she opened her mouth to speak. Large eyes, and a wide mouth were trimmed with excessive makeup. She wore false eyelashes and way too much eyeliner. Her lips, red and wet-looking, still had a childish pout to them, and it seemed wrong for this tiny person to be coming on to William in a cheap motel room.
A knowing smile came over her features, shattering the little-girl look, almost with a crash in my brain. “Ah,” she said, giving him the once over, slowly. “First time you come to us?”
William sat up straighter, obviously startled by the question.
She smiled, again a shrewd look, as she played her fingertips on his knee, then walked them up along his thigh. “I mean, you first time to pay for it?”
He pushed her hand away, in a move so awkward that it made me think he was trying to be gentle about it. “I just want to be comfortable first.”
“Oh, yes … cahm-for-tahble …” She grinned. “I help.” Her hands began to move his way again, but he leaned back and she stopped.
“Candy.” William grasped her hands, effectively stopping their movement. “I paid for two hours of your time, right?”
She nodded.
“Then, let’s talk. I want to get to know you.”
A tiny smile played at her lips, sending yet another shiver down my back. “Other girls tell me about men like you.” She shook her head as though amused. “I never meet one before. Okay. We talk.”
“Good.” He released her hands, and I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.
Our pre-arranged script came to my mind, and I could tell from the slight loosening of William’s shoulders, that he was ready to get underway. We’d decided that coming at one of Lisa’s girls full force, with questions about the organization could be counter-productive. At best we might get prevarication. At worst, outright hostility. We had almost two hours. William was an attractive man, with a sincere smile and gentle demeanor. With any luck, he’d be able to get her to open up about her life, and smoothly move the focus to her involvement with Lisa.
I frowned at the screen. Bass caught me. “Something bothering you?” he asked in a smart-ass tone of voice.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Oh, come on.” He said with a grin, his eyes moving from me to the monitor and back to me again. “Like I can’t see the way you look at him.”
I folded my arms across my body, and shook my head. “Just drop it.”
“Well, just remember my personal policy on inter-office dating,” he said.
I shot him an angry glance which he ignored. I swore he gave a smug wiggle as we watched William launch into investigative mode.
“What you want to talk about?” Candy asked.
“Well,” he asked, with a self-effacing shrug, “What’s your favorite color?”
She gave him a peculiar look—but she answered.
“Purple.”
He asked her a few other simple questions, on innocuous, safe subjects, designed to loosen her up. That had been the plan. As we’d expected, she came in pretty loosened already, though not necessarily to talk.
Deep into their conversation, she laughed at an anecdote William told her about a dog he had when he was young. She responded with a pet story of her own, from back when she lived in the old country.
As she talked, she scooted back on the bed, making herself more comfortable as she warmed to her subject. She folded one leg underneath her and tugged at the hem of her skirt in an absent-minded, demure move. The words flowed, Candy’s face becoming more animated as they chatted.
Bass spoke into the microphone to Jeff, “Close up on these two, okay?”
Seconds later her face took up one view, William’s another. We still had two wide shots that showed body language. Candy was beginning to relax.
“No,” Bass said, his voice threatening to rise again. “Too close. You lost the shot of her tits.”
“Bass!” I said.
The shot widened almost instantly.
“What?” Bass said. “You think people are going to tune in to see a hooker’s face? Come on, little girl, grow up. Sex sells, remember? We need ratings. This is gonna get ‘em for us.”
I wanted to tell him what he could do with his ratings, but the drama on the screen pulled my attention once again.
Like hearing a deftly written script performed by a seasoned actor, William segued into asking if she still had family back there. She did. Candy’s face tightened a bit, and she became hesitant. With a glance toward William, who nodded encouragement, she admitted that she missed her parents and siblings very much. Her parents believed she’d made a success of herself. They were so proud of her. And her littlest sister, Josie, wrote her letters asking when she could please come visit.
“Will you go back to see them?” he asked.
The tiny face softened. She bit her lip and focused on the dark brown carpeting, shaking her head. “How can I?” she asked. “They all so proud of me. They write letters and say how happy it is I came here. If they know what I do, they will cry. I break my parents’ heart. I break Josie’s heart. I can no go back.”
“But didn’t you know what you were getting into, here?”
“No!” she said, with vehemence. “I am good girl.” She gave a sad sigh, “I was good girl. I no even have boyfriend in old country.”
&nbs
p; “How did you get involved in the business, then?”
She hesitated. Her eyes dropped again to the carpet, and her mouth compressed into a tight line.
“Candy?”
A deep breath. A shrug. “Two years ago, my parents meet man. A priest. From America. He bring gifts and food and money. He said that life in United States much better than life in Poland. He tell them that he can get jobs for girls who work hard. Cleaning lady, or hair style lady, or factory work.” She pulled her gaze back up to meet William’s. “He promise that we meet wealthy American men, that we live like queen. My parents tell me go with him. I no want to go. I no want to leave. They say it will be better if I go. It will be a dream come true. For whole family.”
“He sponsored you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes. He introduce me to Lisa. She tell him she hire me to clean houses.”
When Candy didn’t continue immediately, William asked, “Does this priest know what you really do?”
She shook her head and shrugged at the same time. “He only get me job. Then he no come by no more. I think he see we all doing well and he no need to know more.”
“But he has to know.”
Candy shook her head again. “Is all Lisa. She make me work cleaning houses. She tell me that I could make more money if I do more for her. The other girls tell me what she mean. So, I say ‘no.’” Candy bit her lip. “Lisa very angry. The next house I go to, is not empty. A man is there. Lisa’s boyfriend. He make me do many things. He hurt me.”
“What’s the priest’s name?”
Candy seemed about to answer, then stopped herself. “Why you ask?”
William backed off. “Just curious,” he said.
“Damn it!” Bass bellowed. “This is dynamite and he’s blowing it.” Bass pressed the walkie-talkie button. “You getting this Jeff?”
“Yeah, Mr. Bassett. I’m getting it all. Don’t worry.”
I shot him a look meant to keep him quiet. I didn’t want to miss any of the conversation.
Mollified by William’s answer, Candy continued. “Is no good I tell you. You already talk to Lisa, you know Lisa. You dom need to know priest.”
“Why don’t you leave?” William asked in a low voice.
Candy’s eyes shot up, alarmed. “You no understand. No one can leave. When you talk to Lisa, you arrange all this?” She made little circles with her index finger, encompassing the room.
“Yes.”
“Wait …” Candy moved back to dig the money out of her purse. She counted it out on the bed between them. When finished, she picked up one of the bills; I couldn’t make out what it was, and tucked it into her shirt. The remaining cash sat there between them. “This for me,” she said, patting her chest. “The rest, Lisa. She make lot of money and she do nothing but tell us where to show up. She dom let nobody go. Not while we still can work.”
Bass pressed the wrong button on the phone. It gave a screech of protest. Unflustered he said, “Keep it steady on her face, and keep the chest in there,” Bass said to Jeff. Then, a moment later, “Yeah, that’s good.”
“Did you ever try?” William asked.
The world-weary look in her eyes shot through to my heart, as she gathered up the cash again, to put it away. “Others try. But they change their mind.”
“What happened to them?”
For a breathless moment, we all waited.
Candy stared for a moment, then gave a shrug. “This dirty business. They know we no able to call police. Lisa’s boyfriend come visit if we no behave—if we try to get away. I smart enough not to try.”
“I’m very sorry,” William said.
Bass shouted again, too loud for my car, “Shit! He’s turning this into a freaking soap opera.” He punched numbers into the cell phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked as a phone in the motel room scene rang. “Bass! What are you doing?”
“Giving him a clue about how to proceed,” he said.
“Don’t!” I said. He ignored me.
William, visibly startled, grabbed the cell phone from his jacket pocket. Flipped it open. “Yeah?”
His voice was angry, terse and in stereo—coming as it did through the display and Bass’s phone—with about a half-second delay.
“You need to push her, Armstrong,” Bass said, thankfully quiet enough. I could only hope his voice wouldn’t carry for Candy to hear. William must have had a similar worry because he stepped back, near the washroom, putting distance between him and the girl. “We need concrete information, you understand? Push the broad. Quit being such a marshmallow.”
At Bass’s rebuke, William stiffened. His back went straight, and Jeff chose that moment to go for the close-up. I watched William work his jaw, as though to fight internal tension. “Yes,” he said, a fake-friendly tone to his voice. “Thank you for letting me know.”
He slammed the phone shut, jamming it back into his jacket before Bass could react.
“That son of a bitch,” Bass said.
Candy tilted her head. “Who call you?”
“My boss.”
She shot William an inquiring look, but didn’t push.
I thought I saw one of William’s hands fist and flex, but it might have been screen distortion.
Candy tilted her head the other way.
“You no want sex, do you,” she said. It wasn’t a question as much as a realization.
He shook his head.
Next to me, Bass made an impolite sound.
“Is okay,” she said. “Why you spend money, then?”
William looked away for a moment, then turned back to her. “My name isn’t John,” he said.
“I no think so.”
Apoplectic, Bass shouted, “What’s he doing?”
“Shh,” I said. I understood. Or at least I thought I did.
“My name is William. Will.”
Candy nodded acknowledgment. “My name,” she said, shy all of a sudden, “is Katrina.”
“Hello, Katrina.”
When she smiled, I saw the baby face in her again. William must have seen it too, because a flicker of sadness crossed his eyes, enough to translate through the camera.
Bass broke the silence. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Just look at these expressions we’ll be missing if we obscure their faces.”
“If?”
He broke his stare from the monitor to look at me. “You know what I meant.”
I glanced at my watch, having to tilt it toward the screen for enough light to read the time. We had just under fifteen minutes left before Candy’s meter ran out.
“So,” she asked again, “why you want to meet here?”
“Can I ask you something?”
She nodded.
“Would you like to get out of this business?”
Her guard went up in a flash. She leaned away from William. “What you mean?”
“Don’t worry. I’m just asking. If you could, would you quit if you could?”
“You have job for me?”
“No, I don’t. I just want to know if you’d take the chance.”
“I dom know,” she said with a shrug. “I no able to get away. I no think about it.”
“But what if you could? Would you? Would the other girls?”
Katrina seemed to examine the question for a long while. She stared at the floor. One foot bounced with tension.
She looked to William with innocent eyes, a glimpse of the girl she had been, and for a moment the trashy clothing faded away, she seemed more like a child playing dress-up, mixing and matching things that clashed but made her feel grown-up.
“Me? Yes. I get away if I can. Maybe some other girls too. Not all. Some think they no can do anything else. Some think this better than working. I can do many things. I good in math at school in old country.” She wrinkled her nose, as though to stem tears. “I work hard. I like work hard. I like to try.”
She sucked on her lower lip, and sniffed deepl
y. When she spoke again, her voice faltered. “I nineteen years old. I here now, two years. I think I come to United States, I meet nice American man.” She shook her head. “You first one I ever meet who nice to me, not just for sex. I want some day to have babies and have house and nice life.”
“Maybe I can help you,” William said.
She gave him an amused look. “You want to marry me, give me babies, and money?”
“No.”
She lifted her chin. A touch of defiance, curiosity. “How you help me, then?”
William pulled out a business card from his pocket. “My work phone number is there.” He pulled out a pen and scribbled on the back. “My cell phone number too.” I winced. Wow, he was going out on a limb for this girl.
She scanned the front of the card. Even if she couldn’t read, our station’s logo was unmistakable. “You work for TV?” Her guard shot up again. The fear in her eyes was palpable.
“I won’t do anything to put you in danger.”
She stood up. “I no be on TV.”
“Katrina,” William said, in a voice so deep and powerful and soothing that it would have stopped me at the sound. He repeated himself, slowly. “I won’t do anything to put you in danger.”
“They kill me.”
I heard my own sharp intake of breath.
“Katrina—”
“No!” She shouted, her eyes shooting between William and the door as though to gauge the prospect of escape.
“You don’t understand,” William said as he moved to angle himself, effectively blocking the door. He apparently sensed, as I did, that Katrina might bolt any second. “I won’t let that happen.”
I believed him. I only hoped she would too. We’d gone off script, but I had no doubt in my mind that he’d stay true to his word.
“Shit,” Bass said again. “He’s losing control of this.”
“I sell body, yes?” Katrina nodded, angry panic shooting her voice up two octaves. Advancing on William, he seemed forced to nod in agreement. “But I no sell my life. I no sell my soul.” She shook the card at him. “You keep this. They find it, I dead. You understand that? I dead.”
