Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2)

by Pamela Samuels Young

  “It has absolutely nothing to do with that.”

  “So he knows?”

  Wainright didn’t answer.

  Bonnie picked up a cloth and started polishing the whiteboard with enough force to unhinge it. “Did Brianna’s mother call him?” She looked at him over her shoulder.

  “Actually, she came to the school along with Brianna’s uncle and met with both of us.”

  “So what did Ortiz do? Tell them I was some kind of lunatic?”

  “No. But he made it clear that we didn’t think there was a connection between Brianna’s disappearance and those other students.”

  “He doesn’t know that. Not for sure. And neither do you.”

  “Well, actually we do.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Please keep this to yourself,” Wainright said. “I made some calls to the other girls’ families this morning. Ortiz instructed me not to disclose what I found out to anyone else because of the girls’ privacy rights.”

  Bonnie darted over to him. “What did he tell you?”

  Wainright went on to explain that Leticia Gonzales had indeed disappeared, but at the hands of her mother. Leticia’s parents were locked in a contentious divorce and her mother feared losing custody. Her family suspected that Leticia and her mother were in hiding somewhere in Mexico.

  Imani Johnson had run away from home. She returned months later and was sent to Birmingham to live with her grandmother. Jasmine Smith had run away from an abusive family situation. Months later, she was found living with an older boyfriend and put into foster care.

  Bonnie slumped down on her desk. The information left her stunned.

  “Oh my goodness.” She pressed a palm to her cheek. “I have Brianna’s mother thinking her daughter’s been snatched by some kidnapping ring.”

  “That wouldn’t be the case if you had followed Ortiz’s directions. But don’t worry about it. Ortiz doesn’t know it, but I called Brianna’s mother and shared what I found out.”

  Bonnie accepted the scolding because she deserved it. “Well, I’m glad I was wrong.”

  Wainright smiled. “Me too.”

  Bonnie put her hands on her hips and stood up. “Regardless, that does not give Ortiz the right to retaliate against me.”

  “Look, Bonnie—”

  “I’m not giving up my Honors classes,” she said firmly. “If we need to take this to the teacher’s union, I will.”

  “C’mon, Bonnie. There’s no need to go there.”

  “If you expect me to give up my cream-of-the-crop students for Ms. Williams’ little demons, there most definitely is.”

  Chapter 50

  Day Three: 12:30 p.m.

  Mossy, Apache, Gus and D’wan were now sitting around the kitchen table, as Dre finished a telephone call.

  “That was Terrell,” Dre said hanging up. “He and Bobby have been scoping things out. They only have two bouncers during the day, instead of the four they have at night. The club is packed right now with the lunch crowd. Terrell said both of the bouncers are walking around socializing with the girls. One of them was getting a lap dance.”

  “Sounds like a pretty lax operation,” Mossy said. “I hope it’s like that tonight too.”

  “Me too,” Dre said.

  “And if it don’t go down like it’s supposed to,” Apache said, “we should wait until Clint is ready to leave and shoot him in the foot.”

  Mossy gave Dre a look that mirrored what he’d been saying all along. Your knucklehead cousin is going to get us all killed.

  “It ain’t goin’ down like that,” Dre groaned. “We need to use our heads. This is a chess game. And we’ve got the queen.”

  “Queen?” Apache said. “I’d rather have the king?”

  Mossy chuckled. “See what I’m talkin’ ’bout?”

  Apache looked from Mossy to Dre. “What?”

  “Never mind.” Dre grabbed a pad and scanned the notes he’d written down earlier.

  “I just can’t wait until we get the dude,” Apache said, waving his stun gun in the air. “After I give him a jolt of the right motivation, he’ll be chirping like a sparrow.”

  “Have they sent you that picture yet?” Gus asked.

  “Naw,” Dre said.

  “Maybe they don’t really have her.”

  That thought pained him. If they didn’t have Brianna, Dre wouldn’t know where to begin searching for her.

  Dre cracked his knuckles. “He’s supposed to send me a picture before we agree to a location to do the exchange. I’m not going to make a move until I see it.”

  “I don’t mean to be negative or nothing,” Gus said, “but if this don’t work, you gonna pay the money?”

  Dre felt confident that his plan would not fail. “If that’s the only way to get her back, hell yeah.”

  “You actually got that kind of cash sitting around, cuz?” Apache asked.

  “Yep.” Dre pointed at a duffle bag on the floor near the door.

  Apache walked over to the bag, unzipped it and peered inside.

  “Wowza! I ain’t never seen this much cash before. I can’t believe you gave up slingin’ drugs behind some broad.”

  “Sit your ass down,” Dre said. “You’re making me nervous.”

  “These are some cold dudes,” D’wan said. “I don’t understand how they think they can just snatch somebody’s kid off the street and turn her out.”

  Dre shook his head. “Apparently, they’re doing a lot of it and nobody’s stoppin’ ’em. Until now.”

  A quick buzz from Dre’s smartphone signaled a new text message. It was from an unknown sender. Dre snatched it from the table. “This might be it.”

  The guys crowded around him as Dre braced himself for what he was about to see. He paused a few seconds before clicking on the link.

  Once he did, instead of a photograph, a video began to play.

  From the very first frame, Dre felt bile rising in his throat. As his fingers gripped the edge of the table, he fought the urge to hurl the device across the room. Seconds later, he shot up from his seat, dashing for the trash can. He didn’t make it in time and vomited on the floor.

  Mossy held up a hand and took a step back. “Goddamn!”

  Each man who looked at the video uttered his own expression of shock.

  The short portion of the video Dre watched showed Brianna being repeatedly punched. She was naked, coiled up in the fetal position, with bruises all over her body, crying.

  “These muthafuckas are goin’ to hell,” Apache said. “I’ma personally show ’em the way.”

  Chapter 51

  Day Three: 1:00 p.m.

  Loretha walked into the empty conference room carrying a large duffle bag containing a stack of handouts. A big part of Loretha’s work involved helping those involved in administering social services understand the tragedy of sexually exploited children.

  She gave quarterly presentations to social workers, teachers and school staff, counselors and police officers. They were on the front lines and had the ability to reach a child before she became the prey of a pimp.

  Loretha placed pamphlets about Harmony House in front of each seat around the U-shaped conference table. The first two attendees walked into the room and greeted her.

  “Good morning,” Loretha said. “Thanks for coming.”

  “I just wish you didn’t have to come talk to us about this,” one woman said. “Instead of getting better, the problem seems to be getting worse.”

  That was so true. The number of children entering the sex trade was climbing at an alarming rate. Rescuing them was often a futile effort because there weren’t enough foster homes, group homes or juvenile facilities to house them once they’d escape from their pimps.

  In another ten minutes, the conference room was full.

  “Thanks for coming, everybody,” Loretha began. “You should feel free to call me whenever you have an emergency placement. And if I have an empty bed, it’s yours.


  “One of the things I wanted to alert you about is a new method pimps are using to recruit girls. They’re using other minors to entice new girls into the sex industry.”

  “They’ve always done that,” one woman said.

  Loretha smiled. “Not like they’re doing it now. We’ve come across several cases where the pimp puts a girl on the track specifically so that she can get arrested and sent to a group home. Once she’s there, it’s her job to convince the most vulnerable girls to run away with her. The pimp pays the girl for every recruit she attracts and it places her at a higher level with the pimp. She’s also rewarded by no longer having to walk the track.”

  “Good Lord,” said one of the women.

  “It’s turning out to be a pretty effective recruiting tool.”

  The room went silent and Loretha didn’t speak for a few moments, giving them time to swallow this information.

  “We’re also seeing the creation of a trafficking circuit between L.A. and Oakland. One gang will kidnap a girl in L.A. and trade her for a girl snatched by a gang in Oakland. They’re even shipping girls down South to cities like Atlanta and Birmingham. Taking a girl out of state more effectively cuts her off from everyone she knows.”

  “Are you saying different gangs are actually working together?” one woman asked.

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “And don’t make the mistake of thinking that this can’t happen in your neighborhood. These guys are getting bolder and bolder. They’re snatching girls wherever they can find them, not just black and brown girls in the inner city. They’re even infiltrating schools in middle and upper-middle class neighborhoods.”

  When the session ended sixty minutes later, Loretha hurriedly packed her things and rushed to her car. After driving about twenty minutes, Loretha parked near a freeway overpass, grabbed two plastic grocery bags from the front seat and exited the car. The bags held sandwiches, packaged food items, vitamins, a few toiletries and clothes. She walked several feet, then climbed a short incline underneath the freeway.

  She passed two homeless men nodding off. One of the men’s eyes shot open and he growled at her.

  “Leave me the hell alone!”

  Loretha knew that she had to appear fearless. If they sensed that she was afraid, they’d be on her. But she didn’t have to pretend. She didn’t know why but she wasn’t afraid.

  Loretha culled through the thick foliage until she spotted a familiar grocery cart tied with red ribbons and brimming with junk.

  Good. Rena was still here. She was never too far from her cart.

  “Rena,” Loretha called out softly. “Are you here?”

  Loretha heard a gentle rustling of the foliage and Rena stuck her head out of a large cardboard box. The woman wore a tattered hoodie that had originally been gray, but was now sooty black. Her face was ashen and her hair matted and bald in patches. The whites of her eyes were yellow.

  “I brought you some stuff,” Loretha said, extending the bags in front of her with both hands.

  Rena crawled forward on her hands and knees. She took the bag without standing up, then backed into her hiding place.

  “You doing okay?” Loretha asked.

  Rena nodded in quick successive movements as if she could not control her head.

  Loretha had been delivering regular care packages to Rena for several months. She’d never once spoken.

  “Okay, good. If you ever wanna come inside, I’ve got a room for you,” Loretha said. “My card with my number and address is inside the bag.”

  She’d been repeating that offer for months with no response whatsoever from Rena. Loretha knew she would never take her up on it. She wasn’t even sure the woman understood her. Rena, who’d been beautiful and sexy and vibrant, had literally lost her mind after that single night with Demonic. What else could explain her desire to live on the street, pushing a grocery cart around for most of the day?

  Too many times to count, Loretha had asked God to bring her back, but she no longer had any faith in that prayer.

  Rena tore into the large bag of barbecue potato chips. Loretha knew from the old days that she loved them.

  “I have to go, now,” Loretha said, swatting at a spider crawling up her arm. “I want you to call me if you need me.”

  No response from Rena.

  As Loretha backed down the hill, trying not to slide down to the street, she thought she heard something that sounded like words. Loretha turned back to Rena.

  “Did you say something?” Loretha asked.

  “Thank you,” Rena said hoarsely, flashing a toothless smile.

  Joy filled Loretha up from the inside out. Maybe the Rena she’d known was still in there somewhere. She had to restrain herself from running over to hug the woman. That would only frighten her.

  “You’re welcome,” Loretha said, her smile so wide it hurt. “You’re so very welcome.”

  Chapter 52

  Day Three: 3:30 p.m.

  Angela stepped into the foyer of Harmony House and greeted Loretha with a hug.

  “Is Peaches ready?”

  Angela was pumped about her new role as Peaches’ mentor. She had a special evening planned for the girl.

  “She’ll be down in a minute.” Loretha had an uncertain look on her face. “We need to talk first.”

  Angela followed Loretha into her office where they sat down on a couch across from Loretha’s desk. “Is something wrong?”

  “First, I want you to know that you’re about the only person I’d let one of my girls go on an outing with this soon. And second, I need to make sure you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

  Angela rolled her eyes. “I deal with these girls every day.”

  “You deal with them as their lawyer, not as part of their lives. My girls are very fragile. Everybody in Peaches’ life who was supposed to protect her, let her down. Her parents left her when they died, her aunt verbally and emotionally abused her, her pimp beat her up. If you’re going to be a part of her life, you need to be there for the long haul. Through the good and the bad. And there’s going to be some bad. A lot of it.”

  “I understand that. I’m committed. For the long haul.”

  Loretha’s eyebrows arched with skepticism. “There’re going to be times when Peaches doesn’t act like a happy inquisitive child. She’s going to be a foul-mouthed half-woman. The connection to her pimp hasn’t been broken yet. She may—no, she probably will—go back to him at some point. And we have to be there for her when she returns to him a second time or a third time or more.”

  “I understand,” Angela said. “But Peaches isn’t going back.”

  Loretha gave her a cynical look.

  “I’m going to be the one who helps this girl see that life can be different and that she has other options,” Angela promised.

  “I’m going to hold you to that. The real reason I’m allowing this is to take her mind off the hearing tomorrow. It’s a scary thing to have to testify against your pimp. You’ll be there, right?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Peaches bounded down the stairs in jeans and a T-shirt. Her bruises were covered with makeup. She was proudly sporting her new natural curls.

  “How you like me now!” She did a model’s twirl. “My hair is crackalackin’ like a mug!”

  Loretha turned to Angela and laughed. “I assume crackalackin’ is a good thing, but maybe you should translate for me.”

  “Y’all is so lame,” Peaches said. “I had no idea I could get my hair curly like this. I’ma be looking diva-licious in court tomorrow.”

  Loretha and Angela exchanged glances. They both knew Peaches wouldn’t be this excited when she actually had to confront her pimp.

  “We’re going to see the new Shrek movie,” Peaches beamed. “At the Magic Johnson Theater.”

  During the drive to the Crenshaw Plaza, nothing Angela did could make Peaches open up. So she decided not to push it. Loretha had warned her that it would take
some time to build a true bond with the girl. Once the movie started, Peaches laughed loudly while munching on popcorn and Milk Duds. Later, at TGI Friday’s she finally began to talk in more than one-word sentences, but turned somber again once they’d finished dessert.

  “What’s the matter?” Angela asked.

  She shrugged. “When I do regular stuff like this, that’s when I really miss my mama and daddy.”

  “That’s completely normal. My grandmother died a few years ago and I miss her too.”

  “I wonder how my little brother’s doing?”

  “When’s the last time you saw him?”

  Peaches wiped sweat from her water glass with her index finger. “When I ran away with Gerald.”

  “You haven’t talked to him during all this time?”

  “Nope. Gerald wouldn’t let me.” Peaches paused. “Can you take me to see him? He stays with my Aunt Gina now. They still live in our old house by the cemetery in Inglewood. It’s not that far from here.”

  Angela could only imagine the happy memories the house held for her. Maybe a return visit would be a good thing.

  “I’ll need to clear that with Loretha first.”

  “Okay. Can you call her?”

  Angela took out her smartphone and tried to reach Loretha, but she didn’t pick up.

  “We don’t have to stay long,” Peaches begged. “I just want to say hi to my little brother. We haven’t seen each other in three years.”

  Angela reasoned that it couldn’t be a bad thing for Peaches to connect with the one person in the world she truly cared about.

  “Okay,” Angela finally said. “But we’re not going to stay long.”

  Following Peaches’ directions, Angela drove the short distance to Regent Circle in Inglewood. She was surprised by the large, impressive homes on the quiet street lined with eucalyptus trees. Angela had expected to find a much different neighborhood, economically speaking. These homes had to be in the half-million-dollar range.