by John Moore
I saw red flashing lights everywhere as I approached Sarah’s House. Oh my God, I hope nothing has happened to Susan. If they hurt her I’ll . . . I’ll. Hell, what would I do? I’m not a killer. I can’t do the things they do. At least I didn’t have to worry long. Susan was standing outside the center speaking with Detective Baker when I drove up.
“What’s going on?” I shouted across the narrow walkway leading from the parking places to the cluster of police cars parked next to an ambulance.
No one answered me, because they were watching the paramedics place someone in the ambulance. As I took a few more steps, I recognized the girl with the unusual accent, the one whose picture the Uber driver had taken, lying on a gurney. She wasn’t moving as they slid her head-first into the ambulance.
“Susan, what happened to her?”
“I’m not really sure. She left today just like she did every day to go to work and returned around three thirty. Today she got back a little early, but other than that she came and went just like usual. She sat down to watch television with some of the other girls. Suddenly, she went into convulsions and tumbled to the floor.”
“She didn’t look like she was breathing when they pushed her into the ambulance,” I said.
“The paramedics did what they could to revive her, but she hasn’t breathed for more than five minutes. I don’t think she made it,” Susan said, finally breaking down in a pool of tears. “This is horrible, Alexandra. Our residents and their children are terrified. The violence they’ve seen in their homes has followed them here to our sanctuary. All of these flashing lights, people gathering, traffic backing up to see what’s happening. We can’t have this!”
Poor Susan. She wrung her hands as she paced aimlessly. I just hoped the scene would clear soon. She was right; the center’s residents didn’t need any more trauma in their devastated lives. The women were cowering in the corners and behind doors, their curiosity about what was happening battling their desire to hide. The children were huddled next to their mothers, trying to understand or make sense of the chaotic scene. I wondered what effect this horror would have on their lives. Did they already associate flashing police lights with dad beating mom? Would this send them into a panicked state?
My heart sunk as I realized I may have been responsible for raining this suffering down on these poor souls. This had to be connected to Victor and the Dixie Mafia. Nausea captained my churning stomach and steered my thoughts into a sea of guilt. I looked at the lifeless body on the gurney, lamenting my involvement in this whole sordid episode. At that moment, I felt anger flare up from the core of my being. This wasn’t my doing. This was part of the evil that resides alongside each of us every day, and we couldn’t defeat it by ignoring it. We had to fight it. I had to fight it. Then those words flashed through my mind. The ones displayed on Jess Johnson’s wall:
The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing. Edmund Burke
Not on my watch, I thought as Detective Baker took me aside to tell me the cause of death was not apparent from a cursory examination of the body. He’d called his forensic team to the scene to go through the entire house looking for evidence. Baker asked the paramedics to place the body in the ambulance until the coroner arrived to ease the tensions among resident women and children. He suggested I leave to allow the police to do their job. Before I got in my car, Jaeger pulled up. He stopped the paramedics before they closed the door to the ambulance so he could get a look at the body. Satisfied it was the same girl as in his photo, he walked slowly over to me. He pulled out his phone to show me the photo saved on his phone, not knowing I’d already seen it.
“Have you ever seen this girl before?” he asked, handing me his phone.
I fingered the wrong icon on the phone and pulled up his text messages. Holy shit. He’d texted the photo to Clint, the Dixie Mafia thug. He’d given Clint and his redneck gang a three-hour heads-up to track her down. Did they kill her? Jaeger must have told them she was the one murdering their working girls. Why else would he send them the photo? This must be his misguided plan to smoke Victor out in the open. Would he go that far or be that stupid?
“Yes, I have. I met her here at the shelter a few days ago. We spoke for a brief while. She introduced herself to me as Tiffany. Maybe the center’s director knows her full name.”
“Tiffany, huh? Sounds like a stripper name. They must take in strippers and hookers at this place?” Jaeger said, casting a glance at the front of the center.
What a prick. I wanted to kick him in his insolent German balls. He had no idea what these women had been through. But there he was with his pious attitude, and all the while he was consorting with the Dixie Mafia. Detective Baker was right. I needed to watch out for this guy, because he was nothing but trouble.
If it weren’t bad enough having Jaeger stomping around, Child Protective Services drove up. Two ladies in discount clothing store attire approached Detective Baker and Susan. Oh shit, this couldn’t be good. Baker looked my way and waved his hand, shooing me away. Susan mouthed, “It’s OK.”
I was torn between my desire to stay and offer moral support to Susan, and my journalistic instincts compelling me to track down Zach. I wanted to find out more about Clint, the Dixie Mafia, and Jaeger. If I stayed, what was I going to do? Tell Child Protective Services that this was my fault because I’d put these children in the middle of a turf war between a Russian syndicate and the Dixie Mafia? Not really a good idea, and besides, this entire situation wasn’t going to get any better till I got to the bottom of it all. How do I get myself into this shit anyway?
Zach was easy to find. He texted me right back. He was at the gym working out with his sister. Why is it all gay guys are ripped and gorgeous? Do they have some type of hot gene that straight men don’t have? Of course not; they just pay more attention to their appearance. Zach and Maddy met me in the parking lot. They both had cheek-to-cheek smiles on their faces, no doubt induced by the endorphins released by their workout as well as the fact that they were finished. We agreed to adjourn to PJ’s Coffee Shop two blocks from the gym.
PJ’s is a New Orleans original, kind of a mashup of Starbucks and Bourbon Street. The first store opened close to Tulane University. Students met there to discuss music, dating, and anything else other than school. PJ’s claim to fame was they bagged their fresh roasted coffee the same day they ground it. Just like on Bourbon Street, you were likely to see every type of person imaginable in PJ’s.
“You’re here to talk about the woman at Sarah’s House, aren’t you?” Zach said.
“As a matter of fact, I am. Not just about her though. I want to know all about Jaeger and the Dixie Mafia.”
Maddy eyed me with growing impatience. “Can’t you see he’s trying to get away from those people? They’ve had control of Zach’s life for more than ten years. Why do you want to drag him back into this mess?”
Zach patted her arm. He maintained his composure and spoke in a low serene voice. “Maddy, I got myself involved with these thugs. Alexandra had nothing to do with it. She’s not trying to hurt me.”
Maddy sat back in her chair. She took a sip of her mango frozen lemonade, allowing her pulse to slow and the redness to leave her face. I understood her frustration. She was just being protective of her brother. She wanted him left alone; we had that in common. I didn’t want to be dragged into a turf war, but neither Zach nor I had a choice. We had to fight to get them off our asses. If I had to fight, I was going to use everything at my disposal to stop the bastards. It seemed like good and evil were always at war around me, and I had to choose a side. Bystanders became collateral damage, disposable pawns in a deadly game of chess.
“So you know about the woman being killed at the center?” I asked.
“Killed? She was killed? Oh shit. You’ve got to be kidding. No, I didn’t know she’d been killed,” Zach said, abandoning his serene ton
e.
“Did Clint or any of the other Dixie Mafia have anything to do with her death?” I asked.
“No. No. I really don’t think so. Jaeger sent them a picture of her. They used their street sources to track her to the center. They were going to follow her tomorrow and kidnap her. Their plan was to force her to tell them Victor’s scheme for New Orleans. They were going to video it for Jaeger. The whole thing was supposed to be a trap for Victor. Someone else must have killed her, maybe Victor himself.”
“Jaeger used her as bait, and the bastard got her killed. He really doesn’t care who gets hurt, does he?”
“None of these guys care who gets hurt. They are all killers. Let me give you a little background on the Dixie Mafia. I’ve already told you how they used me in their scheme to bilk gay men out of money. Well, some of the money from the lonely hearts scam allegedly went through the bank accounts of a law firm in Mississippi. The two partners in the firm were eventually elected to public office. Attorney Pete Halat became the mayor of Biloxi, and his law partner, Vincent Sherry, was elected judge. Halat convinced the mastermind of the scam, Kirksey McCord, that Sherry stole some of the money. McCord ordered a hit on Judge Sherry and his wife, Margaret. Both were gunned down in their home. McCord was given a life sentence for murder, and Halat was sentenced to eighteen years in jail for conspiracy to commit racketeering, obstruction of justice, conspiracy to obstruct justice, and conspiracy to commit wire fraud. These guys will stop at nothing to protect their turf.”
Maddy wrung her hands. She put her right arm around her brother as she closed her eyes and sighed. They looked pitiful to me triggering my mother’s words to ring through my ears over and over as I watched them fret about their perilous future: “When you make a deal with the devil, the devil always collects.” She was right, too. Zach knew he chose to get involved with the Dixie Mafia thugs, making his deal, and he was suffering the consequences. But it occurred to me that evil doesn’t have to win. We all have power over our lives. When evil leaves its shadowy world and enters our lives, we have to fight. Fight with every fiber of our being, because the deal isn’t forever. It has a beginning, so it must have an end. It ends when you chase the shadow demons back to their dark world.
“Jaeger wants Zach to do something for Clint,” Maddy said. “I think it’s a bad idea. I want us to run away. Go to another town and start fresh.”
Zach and I turned, and our eyes met as soon as Maddy finished. He knew what I wanted, and he knew I wouldn’t leave till I found out what they’d asked him to do. She’d let the cat out of the bag, and now he had to tell me.
“Jaeger told me Victor wants to dominate the drug business in New Orleans. He is trying to make a deal with a supplier. Victor’s supplier is a competitor to the Dixie Mafia’s supplier. Jaeger is using two CIA contractors to set up a deal with the guys Victor is talking to about supplying the drugs. These two guys tell everyone they are CIA, but they aren’t. They are independents that the CIA uses from time to time. They aren’t any cleaner than the Dixie Mafia. Jaeger wants me to go to Colombia and bring back heroin.”
“Colombia!” I blurted. “Who are you dealing with in Colombia?”
“I don’t know any names. All I know is Jaeger calls the group the Scorpions.”
Holy shit! That was El Alacran’s cartel. He’s the one who kidnapped me in Colombia and stuck my hand in the scorpion cage. He murdered Camila, cutting her head off and showing it to me. He was Bart Rogan’s guy. Jaeger was playing with fire and so was Zach. There wasn’t a version of this story that Zach would survive. He’d either be murdered by Clint or Victor or get caught in the crossfire. No matter what, he’d be killed.
“Maddy, you said you want to start fresh. Where do you want to go and what would you like to do?” I asked.
“Anywhere away from these animals.” She closed her eyes for a brief moment then locked eyes with mine. “I have always been into health and fitness. Healthy eating and exercise transform a person’s brain. The American diet contains too much sugar and processed foods, and it’s riddled with pesticides and herbicides. Zach’s drug addiction began with his over-consumption of sugar. His brain became dopamine dependent, the chemical in your brain that creates that good feeling associated with all pleasures—drugs, sex, and comfort food. I’ve always wanted to be in the organic food business, because eating right changes people’s lives. I don’t care where I live; I just want away from these human predators.”
I looked at Zach. He nodded his head in agreement. “Zach, play along with them for now, but keep me informed about what they are asking you to do. Don’t you dare meet with any of the Colombians. I know how dangerous they are. There may be a way out of this for all of us.”
I left Zach and Maddy sitting at PJ’s. They were trapped. I knew who I needed to talk to, so I headed back to my condo to make the call.
Chapter Sixteen:
Calling on Friends
“I’d like to speak to Sophia Garcia, please. Yes, I can hold.”
I needed help dealing with all of this. Staying in New Orleans was working so far. Piper was still safe. Oh shit, I thought. I’d better call Tom and make sure nothing had happened to her or him. As soon as I talked to Sophia, I planned to call Tom.
“This is Sophia,” a voice said on the other end of the phone.
“Oh my God, Sophia. It is so great to hear your voice. Did you return to active duty?”
“Sure did. Doctor says I’m fit and ready for action. Good thing too, because I was going crazy sitting in this office. I’m not a desk kind of girl.”
“No, you are not,” I laughed, remembering her chasing the Serpent down the street a few months ago. “Sophia, I need your help. Before you answer let me tell you what’s going on. Jaeger is working with a gang of goons called the Dixie Mafia trying to smoke out Victor, the Russian Mafia creep, by starting some type of gang war. He knows Victor is after Tom’s niece, and he’s using her as bait. Detective Baker is helping as much as he can, but his hands are tied. Can you come to New Orleans and help me?”
“Jaeger has too much seniority on me. They will never let me come on an official basis. But New Orleans is such a beautiful town, and I’m ready for a vacation. It’ll take me a few days to do all of the paperwork, but I’ll get there one way or another,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said, and I meant it with all my heart. How wonderful. She was just the person to have my back. I thought about my planned trip to Mobile. Not really a good idea to leave New Orleans right now. When I called Tom, he said he and Piper had scads of fun at his office, and it lifted my spirits to hear that those two were bonding. It was quitting time, and Tom said he’d get us some food on his way home. Before we could say our goodbyes, someone beeped in on the other line.
“Hello, this is Alexandra.”
A low, sultry voice spoke softly. “Hello, Alexandra, this is Mandy Morris. Am I disturbing you?”
Oh no. I didn’t want to get trapped in a telephone conversation with a person from another dimension. Mandy was hard enough to take when she was a normal New Orleans party slut, but now, as a Darth Vader impersonator, she was more than I could deal with. But I had promised Charlotte and Mr. Morris I’d help try to bring her back to reality. So what the hell? I thought.
“Oh, hi, Mandy. No, this is a good time,” I lied. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to invite you and Constance to another tour with me. She was so interested in vampires and voodoo, I thought she might enjoy the cemetery tour. We’ll visit Marie Laveau’s grave. It’s one of our most popular tours.”
“Sure,” I said, gritting my teeth. “We’d both love to take that tour with you.”
“By the way,” she said, “you may want to give Charlotte a call. Daddy’s not doing too well.” After dropping that bombshell, she hung up.
What the hell, I thought. I immediately called Charlotte. She told me Mr. Morris had been
diagnosed with cancer just this afternoon. No one except immediate family had been told. Mr. Morris had given explicit instructions not to tell Mandy until he knew more detail, and Charlotte and I wondered how she’d found out. Someone leaked it to her, but who? Charlotte and I made plans to meet tomorrow for lunch at my condo. She said she’d pick up some salads on her way over. I could tell from the tone of her voice things were more serious than she let on.
I got on my blog site. The pattern of missing girls was unmistakable. I knew many of them were lured into drugs and prostitution. Apparently human trafficking like this had been going on for some time. The public was just becoming aware that Americans were being trafficked right here in the United States. Right under our noses, young girls were being prostituted and murdered. Their pimps on the street were being replaced by highly sophisticated organizations from the US and abroad. Victor was one of the big players in the game. Millions if not billions of dollars made their way into the pockets of these low-life pigs. Now they wanted Piper.
Tom and Piper were a welcome sight. I felt an instant connection to Piper because we’d both lost our parents at about the same age. But now it had grown into much more, and I really loved the little thing. She and I just clicked. Oddly I felt more like a mother to her than anything else. My feelings were weirding me out because I didn’t really want children at this point in my life. I was too career oriented. She’d opened my eyes to the joy of unconditional love of someone who is dependent on you for protection. I knew I loved Tom, or at least I thought I did. He seemed to love her too. Could we really turn into a twenty-first-century version of a family? Maybe.
