“I bet she’d have time if Yvonne calls,” Delphie said.
“I bet she will,” Dionne dug in her bag for her phone.
“Ok,” Yvonne took Dionne’s phone from her. Dionne showed her how to scroll down the list and call Sandy. She chatted with Sandy for a few minutes before Yvonne looked up, “Three o’clock? Can we make three?”
The women nodded.
“We’ll be there,” Yvonne said. “Thanks!”
Sandy must have said something sweet because Yvonne sniffed and wiped her eyes before she thanked Sandy again and hung up. She stared out the front windshield for a moment before turning around.
“Lunch, yarn, hair, then dresses?” Yvonne beamed.
“And whatever the hell else we want to do!” Maresol laughed.
“You should write that down,” Delphie said to Yvonne.
Nodding, Yvonne took out her book.
“What should I put?” Yvonne asked.
“We can do whatever the hell we want,” Maresol said.
Yvonne wrote that down.
~~~~~~~~
Thursday morning — 11:45 a.m. MT
“You’re going to give him the deal?” the DPD Major Crimes Captain asked. He glanced at the Deputy Chief of Operations and then back at the Federal Prosecutor.
“I don’t see how we can’t,” the Federal Prosecutor said. “He knows we’ve been trying to make a case against the Givolini family for years. And if he has information that can make our case? He’s worth every penny.”
“What about the woman?” the older detective asked.
“What about her?” the Federal Prosecutor shrugged. “From what he says, she’s one of his prostitutes. I bet she’d be thrilled to move somewhere new.”
“But . . . ”
“She’s a prostitute,” the Federal Prosecutor said. “Getting the Givolini family will save lives.”
“And her life?” the younger detective asked.
“What’s one whore compared to the larger objective of ridding the country of this pestilence? She should be honored to help, gives her worthless life some meaning.”
The Deputy Chief of Operations gave the Federal Prosecutor a long hard stare.
“You’re talking about forcing this woman, against her will, to live in secret with Alvin,” the Deputy Chief of Operations said.
“What’s wrong with you?” the Federal Prosecutor sniffed. “No one gives a shit about some prostitute. No one. It’s just another woman who made bad choices. If she winds up dead in the process? Whoop de fucking do.”
“But . . . ”
“Find the whore,” the Federal Prosecutor said. “My guess is that she’ll make it worth your time. She’ll probably be so grateful, she’ll make it worth all of our time.”
The Federal Prosecutor leered.
“She’s quite attractive,” the Federal Prosecutor said. “She can’t remember a thing . . . uh, that’s what Alvin says.”
Disgusted, the older detective scowled at the Federal Prosecutor and left the room. His partner followed him.
“Are they going to get her?” the Federal Prosecutor asked.
“Sure,” the Detective Captain said.
“I have a tee time at the Country Club,” the Federal Prosecutor said. “You’ll let me know when we can complete this deal.”
“Sure.”
The Major Crimes Captain watched the Federal Prosecutor leave his office.
“Keep me in the loop,” the Deputy Chief of Operations said. “Do not make a deal without running it by me. There is too much . . . We get a new Chief in less than a month . . . and . . . ”
The Deputy Chief nodded to the Major Crimes Captain and left his office. He waited for a moment before his men came back in.
“There is no way, no way, I’m going to get that woman,” the older detective said.
“You know who our witness is? The child in those photos?” the younger detective asked. “Tanesha Smith. You know, Rodney Smith’s daughter.”
“The Rodney Smith? Rodney ‘I spent twenty-years in prison for a crime I didn’t commit’ Smith?”
“Alvin prosecuted his case,” the older detective said.
The Major Crimes Captain looked from one man to the next.
“We need a judge,” the Major Crimes Captain said.
“Judge Alberts,” the older detective said. “Tanesha Smith’s best friend is his niece.”
“Go.”
The detectives scrambled out of the room. Shaking his head, their Captain watched them go before picking up his phone.
“Seth?” he asked. “We’ve got a problem.”
~~~~~~~~
Thursday afternoon — 3:45 p.m. MT
“Dad,” Tanesha whispered into her phone.
“Tanesha?” Rodney stood up from where he’d been bent over a glass case filled with rings.
“Where are you?” Tanesha whispered.
“’Bout five minutes from you,” Rodney said. “I wanted to get your Mom a nice engagement ring. Some fool said this was the place to go. Bambi told me to go to Cherry Creek but I wanted to pick you up so you could help. I thought we could . . . wait, why are you whispering?”
“There’s a guy . . . Dad, I think he wants to hurt me.”
“You think?” Rodney walked out of the store.
“He’s been following me since this morning,” Tanesha whispered. “He tried to grab me before my last class. I thought he just wanted to know what time it was but he was . . . hyped up and then . . . ”
Tanesha stopped talking. A door squeaked and heavy footsteps clomped across the tile floor. He kicked open the metal doors.
Wham! The automatic toilet flushed.
Wham! The toilet flushed.
Wham! The toilet flushed. There was a faint smell of chlorine and water on the air.
“Hey, this is the woman’s bathroom,” a woman said. “Get the hell out of here.”
“Hey!” another woman said.
“Call campus police,” the first woman said.
“I’m leaving!” a man’s voice said. “No need to be a bitch.”
The squeaking door slammed closed.
“Asshole,” one of the women said.
“I called all my girls but no one answered. They’re working. Then Jill called,” Tanesha whispered. “She said this guy is going to rape me as a warning so I won’t testify against . . . Alvin guy. Jill can’t come because she’s spotting again and . . . ”
“Where are you?” Rodney started his truck.
“Just off the breezeway in Education 2 North, women’s bathroom, right outside the café,” Tanesha whispered. “Jer’s in a cab on his way out here. He can’t drive because he had treatment today. He’s going crazy.”
“I’m on my way,” Rodney said.
“That’s the second time the guy’s come in. I keep moving stalls. He’s not going to wait much longer.”
“And campus police?”
“Jill told me to call you,” Tanesha said. “She said she’d call the police but she said they would be too late. Dad, please come.”
“I’m on my way.” Rodney turned up Colfax toward the UC Anschutz campus.
Tanesha screamed and the phone went dead.
Chapter Two Hundred and Eleven
Critical
Thursday afternoon — 3:50 p.m. MT
Before Tanesha could react, the metal door flew open. A slender, light skinned man grabbed her hair and threw her out of the stall. Her phone flew out of her hand and shattered against the tile wall. She stumbled and slammed against the sink cabinet. He caught her foot and dragged her to him. Holding her up by the shoulder, he gave her a hard back hand. She spun in place. Dazed, she grabbed the edge of the counter to steady herself. He yanked down her pants and slammed forward.
Tanesha raised her foot. He jammed into the hard heel of her calf-high black Frye boot. She pressed back in a slow practiced back kick. When he shifted back, she spun around.
Tanesha attacked. As Colin Hargreaves h
ad taught her, she folded her finger tips in and slammed her right palm toward his throat. She caught his chest. He fell back into the stall. She ran to the door. He tackled her before she got there.
Facedown under him, she shimmied her body, kicked her heavy boots, and struck him anywhere she could reach. When she was able to turn over, she slammed her knee up and hit him somewhere near his groin. She pushed him away.
When he came at her again, she bent her elbow and slammed it across his face with all her might. He glanced off the metal stall and dropped to the ground. She jumped up and kicked him in the ribs as hard as she possibly could. She kept kicking until two strong hands pulled her away.
She looked up into the face of one of her Denver Track Club teammates. He was dressed in a University of Colorado Police uniform.
“We had a report that a woman was beating the bejesus out of some poor defenseless guy,” the officer chuckled. “Tanesha, whatcha got against this feeble white rapist?”
The man moaned.
“You’re no match for this girl,” the officer said to the man on the floor. He nodded to another University Police officer who cuffed the rapist on the floor. Turning to Tanesha, he asked, “You okay?”
Tanesha nodded. She felt high and a little numb from the rush of adrenaline. When she pulled up her pants, she found that the jerk had ripped the button off her favorite pants. She sneered at the rapist as he passed her on his way out of the room.
The officer and the rapist got to the doorway just as her father Rodney came in. Towering over the officer and the rapist, Rodney gave the criminal a terrifying look before seeing Tanesha. His face transformed to sheer joy when he saw that his child was safe. He turned back to the rapist.
“That’s my daughter,” Rodney said to the man.
The rapist shook his head in horror and the officer pushed him out of the restroom. Unable to stop herself, Tanesha threw herself into her father’s arms. He wrapped his long arms around her. Tears streamed out of her eyes and he held her tight. The officer touched his shoulder.
“We’ll need to get her statement,” the officer said.
Holding up her pants with one hand, Tanesha tried to open her mouth. She yelped with pain and pointed to her jaw.
“Shit, girl.” The officer pointed to a growing lump on Tanesha’s jaw. “Did that asshole break your jaw?”
“We need to get her to the hospital.” Rodney slipped off his belt.
“Come on,” the officer said. “I’ll take you to emergency.”
While she threaded the belt through her pants, Rodney grabbed her book bag. He picked up the pieces of her phone and tucked them into the bag.
“That guy?” The officer pointed with this thumb out the door. “He fits the description of a guy who’s raped more than twenty women in Aurora alone.”
The officer nodded to Rodney.
“You know him?” the officer asked.
“We met up in Cañon City,” her father said.
“Know his name?”
“I do.” Rodney held his hand out to the officer. “I’m Rodney Smith. Thank you for helping my daughter.”
“Nice to meet you, sir.” The officer shook Rodney’s hand. “Come on, let’s get your girl looked at.”
With his arm around her, Rodney guided Tanesha out of the bathroom. They were walking toward the stairs when Jeraine caught up with them. As usual, whispers, looks, and camera clicks followed her husband like a cloud. For once, she didn’t care. She let go of her father to hold Jeraine. She kept holding on even though she heard people taking pictures of them on their cell phones. The officer put his hand on Jeraine’s shoulder.
“We need to get her to emergency,” the officer said.
“Yes sir,” Jeraine said.
They had just stepped into the elevator when the officer snorted.
“What?” Rodney asked.
“If you’re Jeraine,” the officer said. “Then is she Misty?”
“There is no Misty,” Jeraine said.
“I’m Miss T,” Tanesha tried to say through her jaw. It came out as something like “eh mmffs T.” She snorted and the men laughed.
“You two look like a matched set,” Rodney said. “But then you always have been.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Jeraine gave a broken toothed smile.
“You know that song?” The officer sang, “There’s a honey in my bed and Miss T on my mind?”
Jeraine nodded.
“Oh dawg, that song is the ultimate panty dropper. I just put it on and . . . ”
Rodney cleared his throat and gave the officer a hard look. He blanched. When Rodney laughed, the men chuckled. Tanesha rolled her eyes at them.
“Come on, let’s get you to the ER,” the officer said.
“If you don’t mind,” Rodney said. “I’ve seen enough of the back of cop cars.”
The officer pointed to a golf cart with University Police on the side.
“It’s not the sweetest ride, but it does get across the campus fast,” he said.
“There’s definitely not enough room for us,” Rodney pointed to Jeraine and himself.
“I can’t leave her until I get her statement,” the officer said.
“We’ll go with the cop,” Jeraine said.
“I’ll follow you,” Rodney said. He hugged Tanesha.
“Thanks for calling me,” Rodney said in her ear. “It feels almost . . . normal.”
Tanesha nodded.
“When we’re done here, will you help me get your mom an engagement ring?” Rodney asked. “Oh my God, Yvonne! If they came for you, they’re . . . ”
“Sandy,” Tanesha muffled out.
Unsure of what she said, Rodney looked at Tanesha then at Jeraine.
“I think she said Sandy,” Jeraine said. “Sandy’s place is like a fortress. You never noticed? Bullet proof glass front, steel door, double security locks on every door, special alarm. I guess Jake set it up that way. If Yvonne’s there, she’s safe.”
Tanesha gave a vigorous nod and then grabbed her jaw.
“Do you have Sandy’s number?” Jeraine asked. “You should call to check. Women like that.”
Tanesha tapped him with the back of her hand.
“Good idea,” Rodney said. “I’ll call on the way.”
Tanesha and Jeraine walked to the University Police cruiser. Standing at the passenger door to the cruiser, Tanesha watched her father walk away. He must have felt her eyes because he turned to look at her. She raised a hand to wave. He pointed to his chest, made a heart sign with his hands and pointed to her. She touched her chest and raised her index and middle finger.
Leaning back into the passenger seat, Tanesha still felt a sense of vague unreality. This had been the weirdest, best, most intense week of her life. She’d finally started med school, thought her mom was dead, found her mom safe and sound after all these years, given a deposition to the police, and been attacked by a rapist. She watched Jeraine answer the phone and then hold the phone away from his ear as Heather screamed at him.
At least some things never changed.
~~~~~~~~
Thursday afternoon — 4:10 p.m. MT
“You know,” Sandy touched Yvonne’s shoulder. “You could come once a week, instead of once a month, now. I can wash and set your hair. I bet we can get that hair to grow.”
“So expensive,” Yvonne shook her head.
“Bah,” From under the hair dryer, Maresol repeated what she’d said all day. “Your man can afford it.”
The women laughed. Sandy leaned down until she was next to Yvonne’s ear.
“Rodney comes once a week,” Sandy said.
“He does?” Yvonne looked surprised.
“Haircut and shave. It’s an incentive for some of the young men on his worksite. If they meet their goals, he pays for a haircut and a shave. I’ve even been able to clear up his skin. You could just come with him. Plus, I always give a family discount.”
Looking more confident, Yvonne nodded
.
“Ok, you’re set,” Sandy said. Looking up, she reminded her assistant, “Yvonne needs the new conditioning step.”
Her assistant smiled.
“She’ll wash out your hair,” Sandy said. “I’m testing out a new conditioner. It takes about five minutes. You can come up here to wait if you’d like.”
Nodding, Yvonne got up and Jeraine’s mother, Dionne, took her place. Yvonne and the assistant went into the back of the salon.
“What would you like today, Mrs. Wilson?” Sandy asked.
“You do a great job with that flat iron,” Dionne said. “Will you be able to do all of our hair on Saturday?”
“I was planning on it,” Sandy said.
“Good,” Dionne said.
Sandy flipped a plastic smock over Dionne and took out her supplies. She worked in silence for a few minutes. Yvonne and the assistant laughed as they came in from the back room. Moving into the salon, Yvonne saw the flat screen television.
“That’s my Tanni!” Yvonne pointed to the screen. The women looked at the television. Sandy got the remote control from her drawer and turned the sound up. “That’s the police!”
The screen flashed to an on-scene reporter.
“Based on what we know so far, Tanesha Smith was in the bathroom at the Medical School here in Anschutz when she was attacked. Ms. Smith was able to fight off her attacker. According to Aurora PD, this man is a possible suspect in a number of sexual assaults throughout Aurora and the metro area.”
“Oh my God,” Yvonne said.
Dionne got up to hug her friend. They watched in horrified silence.
“What is Ms. Smith’s condition?” The desk anchor worked to stretch out the story.
“We haven’t been able to confirm the details,” the reporter said. “But we’ve heard that Ms. Smith has a broken jaw. We have this tape submitted by a viewer.”
The screen shifted to Jeraine running up to Tanesha while she was walking with Rodney. The swelling in her jaw was apparent as was her torn clothing.
“That must have been some fight,” the announcer said when the tape ended.
“Apparently, Ms. Smith has been taking self-defense classes from a friend of the family,” the reporter said.
Gold Hill Page 26
