by Stacy Green
“Lucy?” Sarah’s voice bore the faintest hint of nerves.
I pushed myself off the counter to stand straight. My pulse battered against my chest, I felt light and airy and in complete control. Almost manic. “How do you know the police don’t already have that phone? By the way, L is a total coward.”
The flush that had reached her forehead evaporated as though I’d thrown white paint at her. Even her lips looked like chalk. The stronger, more cunning lioness taking her rightful place, I stepped forward until I was in her personal space and out of earshot of the shocked employees. I’d love to be a fly on her pretty walls and hear what story she gave them after I left.
“Yes, I hacked into it.” I pitched my voice into a whisper. “If I can find L, I can find another man. And what if I get him to talk?”
“We should speak in my office.” Smelling of breath mints and fruity perfume, her voice was as pitiful as a newborn kitten’s.
“If that helps.” Letting her have this small victory would give her a false sense of security. Easier for me to manipulate her. And I didn’t need to worry about the peanut gallery butting their noses into my plan.
I followed her into the office, which looked as boring as it had yesterday, save for the mess on her desk. She’d torn it apart searching for the phone. Shutting the door, I faced her hard gaze.
“I’m not quite sure what you’re accusing me of–”
“Spare me,” I cut her off. “Last month, I saw you take two teenagers–a boy and a girl–from here to a seedy motel in North Philly. After you made a pit stop here and got them cleaned up, that is. You left them there with a black male who arrived on foot. How much did that transaction earn you?”
She stared.
My entire body felt light, as if I’d just downed a shot of whiskey. I loved seeing her squirm.
“You’re the middle man,” I continued. “That much is obvious. And your boss is pissed off because I’ve got information on his clients–or he will be when you tell him. Here’s the thing. I don’t care what sort of side business you guys have going.” I lifted my shoulders and then let them fall. “I just like a certain lifestyle, and since my man left, I don’t have it. You understand where I’m going with this?”
Sarah’s nose curled. As if she were any better than the blackmailer she believed me to be. As if she weren’t a trussed up, female pimp. “You want money.”
“Oh no, not from you. I’m not interested in dealing with the help.” I dropped the word like lead, enjoying the flicker of anger on her face. “I want to speak to the boss. Is he the person you left those kids with?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sarah.” The name rolled off my tongue in the most condescending tone I could muster. Mentioning what Riley had told me was out of the question, but I didn’t need to. Sarah’s weakness shined as bright as a red light district at midnight. “You run a profitable business that’s rocketed to success in the past year in a high-end part of the city. You’re a high class lady with a reputation to uphold. What do you think would happen if word of your side jobs got out? I may not have enough to hold up in court, but I could tell some pretty damned good stories, and I’d have your phone to back me up. Something like that would cost you clients.”
The cords in her neck stretched tight. “He won’t see you.”
Easily as that, my suspicions confirmed–someone else ran this show. But how many more people like Sarah were out there? “And you’re afraid he’ll cut you loose. Pretend like you never existed.”
She flinched, giving me the answer I needed. “So either you accept the position you’re in right this minute and do what’s best for you–what it takes to keep your business running–or you allow yourself to be squashed.”
Sarah crossed her arms, but her shoulders sagged. Grey pallor still colored her skin. “What are you saying?”
I was taking a big risk, but at worst I’d end up right back where I started. “Tell me everything you know about him. Who his other associates are, what other businesses front his operation.”
She barked a laugh. “Why would I do that?”
“Because you have two choices: tell him you lost the phone to some redheaded broad who gave you a false identity, which means he cuts you loose and I get no money and then I go to the press, or work with me to gather as much dirt as we can and split the profits.”
“You gave me a false identity? How? I put you through a background check.”
I almost laughed at the surprise on her face. “Honey, I’m a con artist. I know how to protect myself. So, what do you say? Are you going to help yourself or lose everything you’ve worked for?”
“What if I call your bluff and say your assumed information won’t affect me in the least?”
“You could do that.” I ran my fingers across the framed picture of Sarah at her ribbon cutting two years ago. “But is it worth the risk?”
Sarah considered this. I waited, letting her finish the picture I’d started. Her imagination would do much better work than any story I spun. “You’ll need to come back tonight. I can’t do this here.”
“And I’m not dumb enough to meet you by myself in your building. Let’s pick a quiet, neutral location. I’ll even let you choose.”
Sarah rocked on the balls of her feet, her jaw muscles clenching. “Maisy’s on Twenty-Second. It’s a busy place but we can get a private table.”
I wanted to dance. Or better yet, call Chris and tell him I knew exactly what I was doing and maybe he should have a little more faith in me. Instead, I extended my hand. “I’ll be there at seven.”
She closed her eyes and nodded, the defeat on her face almost making me feel sorry for her.
I opened her office door. Her employees were all steadily working, but their straight backs and jerky movements made it clear they were on edge and waiting to pounce. “Thanks so much for the day off, Sarah. I’m glad we got this misunderstanding worked out.” I sauntered to the coat rack and pulled on my heavy winter garments.
The only downside in my plan was that I’d have to leave Sarah unharmed, but she was a valuable pawn in a much bigger game.
As long as she didn’t stand me up.
7
My head buzzed with the high of confronting Sarah and bending her to my will. A part of me didn’t like what that meant–it made me too much like my mother, too cold and manipulating, feeding off the miserable energy of others. But seeing the fear I’d elicited in Sarah had my blood pumping so hard my head throbbed. It was a dangerous rush that could get me into serious trouble if I wasn’t careful.
I needed to eat. Located in a popular business district, Morning Glory’s Café was consistently busy. I squeezed into the doorway, my stomach growling at the smells of frying bacon and hot coffee, and craned my neck to see if Kenny had already secured us a booth.
He waved to me from the back corner. Just the sight of him cooled my simmering nerves. We’d been friends since high school. Two damaged people finding each other–he with the abusive drunk of a dad and me with the sexually abused, dead sister–and he was the brightest part of my life. He was a pot dealing mechanic who helped homeless kids and was always upbeat and smiling. He didn’t know my dark secret, but Kenny was well aware of my twisted personality and never judged. He was just Kenny with a smile, and most days there’s nothing better than that.
“Goose.” He grinned as I slid into the booth and rolled my eyes at the nickname. A cup of steaming black coffee waited for me.
I took a careful sip. “You know me so well.”
“Of course I do. Ordered you a breakfast sampler, too. Should be here soon.”
I could have kissed him. Funny that was something we’d never done. My feelings for Kenny were deep but uncomplicated, a blessing in my life.
“So what’s the emergency favor?” Kenny wasn’t one to mess around. Another quality I loved.
“I need you to track down a kid for me. Actually, she’s a teenager and a resou
rceful one.” Kenny knew I was trying to infiltrate the trafficking ring, although he assumed that as a P.I., I’d turn my information into the police. I told him about the confrontation with Riley last night, omitting the danger and Chris’s semi-rescue. “Do you think you can find her?”
Kenny rubbed his round cheeks. His two-day-old scruff did little to make him look any older. “Well, if she was at the Rattner in North Philly, there’s a decent chance she lives somewhere nearby. Unless she’s got higher-end clientele, too, and takes city transit.” He stared into his coffee, thick eyebrows knitted together. “How do these kids become so complicit to the point of thinking it’s their choice?”
The sadness in Kenny’s voice made the reality of these kids’ lives all the more real. I searched for the right answer even though I knew there wasn’t one.
“I mean,” Kenny continued, “my dad whipped the shit out of me, told me I wasn’t worth the dirt on his shoes. And I believed him for a long time. But to make the choice this Riley has–”
“Sexual abuse is a different kind of beast,” I said. “I think it affects the soul, you know? Especially when it starts really young. These kids don’t know anything else, so earning money off the abuse can seem like a positive thing. And probably makes them feel like they have an element of control, even if it’s all false. The pimps who live off girls like her know how to use her pain to their biggest advantage. They can spot these girls a mile away–it’s a nasty talent.”
The server appeared with our food, and Kenny waited until she was gone. “I just can’t get my mind around it.”
“Because you’re not in their shoes.” I picked at my eggs. “All we can do is try to help.”
“What if they don’t want it?”
Riley certainly didn’t seem to want my help. And maybe she was beyond it at her age, already too hardened. But I had to try, and if I was lucky, I might be able to save some younger kids too. “All we can do is try and see what happens.”
“You’re right.” Kenny popped a sausage link into his mouth. “I won’t be able to sleep unless I try to help find this kid. Don’t suppose she is in the system?”
“I checked into every database I could.” Meaning every one Kelly could hack into, but Kenny didn’t need to know that. “No one matching her first name and description are listed as missing children, and she’s not been arrested. Which means she’s either very good at staying under the radar or really lucky.”
“Or the dude running this operation knows how to keep things on the down low.”
“That definitely crossed my mind.” I couldn’t explain it, but everything in my gut insisted that no matter how many blocks were holding up his filthy pyramid, the man at the top was powerful. Somehow, he moved like a shadow between his various storefronts. How did he pull people like Sarah in? Blackmail? Was she in serious debt? I didn’t think her business was doing badly, but that didn’t mean she spent her money wisely. Or was she just greedy with no moral center? Her big boss might just be the kind of perceptive person who can practically sniff out those willing to close their eyes for an extra buck. Some people’s biggest skill was their ability to read others.
Hopefully she’d tell me more tonight, if she actually showed up.
“So I guess the best thing to do is to hit the streets, talk to my kids,” Kenny said. “I’ve got some contacts at a couple of shelters in North Philly.”
“I don’t think this kid is working out of a shelter. Even though her clothes weren’t warm enough, she was well put together, and most of those places keep a pretty strict eye on kids’ comings and goings. They won’t allow them to stay if they think something weird is going on.” Not to mention she had an air of authority on the street. She’d wanted information for her pimp, which meant she knew exactly where to deliver it.
“Yeah, but maybe they know her. Streets are a big place, but word gets around, you know? Kids talk. Know who to stay away from. I’d say it’s your best shot other than just walking the area around the Rattner, and it’s too cold for that. Not to mention dangerous for you.” Kenny’s mouth hung open as if he meant to say more, but he snapped it shut. He knew I wouldn’t listen.
I agreed, for now. But if we didn’t find Riley in a few days, I’d have to layer up and brave the cold and whatever dangers North Philly had to throw at me.
8
The thing about a city like Philadelphia in the winter is that the snow and cold weather never really slow it down. People adapt quickly, especially those who’ve grown up here. The weather is a part of life, and nothing stands in the way of having a good time after work.
Sitting in the middle of a crowded Maisy’s, I waited for Sarah, who of course was late.
No hidden corner tables were available, which put me nearly in the middle of a murmuring after-dinner crowd. Part bar, part coffee joint, Maisy’s served an eclectic crowd of all ages and provided fantastic people watching. Another night, I’d be enjoying myself, making up stories about whatever person caught my eye, but my mind stayed on a single track. Would Sarah show?
Chris bet me $100 she wouldn’t. Stubborn and forever nosy, he’d positioned himself at the end of the bar where he could discreetly keep an eye on me. His presence was the end result of a very short-lived argument an hour earlier.
“You have no idea if she’s coming alone. She might have someone waiting to ambush you.” How Chris thought he could prevent that from the bar, I wasn’t sure, but I relented. I wished I’d just kept my mouth shut, but a secret part of me was glad he was here. I wasn’t exactly a normal girl. A crowd like this made me feel like I had a giant sign flashing “fraud” over my head. The proverbial sore thumb in virtually every situation. Seeing Chris in his wool pea coat and black glasses, broad shoulders slightly rounded, head down as if he were lost in thought, made me feel less like the lone speck of black sand on an otherwise perfectly white beach.
A lithe, blond woman wearing a dark blue, knitted beret skirted around the tables. Sarah and I locked eyes. Gone was the confidence I’d always associated with her, along with about half her usual makeup. She looked worn out and downright nervous.
I cocked my head and smiled as she sat down. “Glad you could make it.”
“I didn’t have much choice, did I?” Her voice sounded unusually throaty.
“We always have a choice.”
Sarah said nothing, sitting down without her usual grace. Lips drawn tightly against her teeth, her entire face looked thin and sallow. She folded her hands across the gleaming wood table and stared at me with a mix of hostility and curiosity.
“Did you want to order something?” I didn’t expect to liquor her up, but a little alcohol might work in my favor.
“No.”
I swirled my untouched club soda. At the bar, Chris shifted to slightly face me, making conversation with the brunette next to him. I bit the inside of my cheek and smiled at Sarah. “Let’s just get right to it. What have you got on your boss that we can use to make some easy money?”
She actually laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Not much. He’s got a system of checks and balances to rival the government. I’m just one part of it.”
“So how’d you get started?” I made a show of looking her up and down. “You’re not into those,” I dropped my voice to a harsh whisper, “kids, are you?”
She screwed her pert nose. “No. I would never do such a thing.”
Nodding, I eased back in my seat, as if I agreed that pimping kids was perfectly okay as long as you didn’t dip into your stash. Indignation boiled my veins. “Then how did you get involved? I mean, you’re risking a lot, especially with such a successful business.”
“It’s hard to start a business nowadays.” She shrugged, her shoulders looking bony beneath her blue wool cape. “My business is really competitive and takes a lot of startup capital, plus word of mouth to succeed.”
“So you were in financial trouble,” I surmised. “But how does a girl like you find out about this…organization?
”
“They found me.” She snapped the bracelet on her wrist. “Six months ago, this kid swaggers into the salon just before close, when I was alone. He knew I was the only one there, and he knew half my life history and my financial situation.”
I tried not to balance on the edge of my seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chris mirroring my body language and inwardly rolled my eyes. He still had so much to learn. “Did he tell you how he found all that out?”
“No. But he offered me a position,” Sarah swallowed hard, her eyes suddenly coming to life and searching mine. “A business proposition. I couldn’t refuse.”
“Because you needed the money to save the salon? Don’t you have any family who could have helped? Most people would turn to them before jumping into a situation like this.”
A shadow moved in her eyes as she chewed on the corner of her mouth with her perfectly aligned, white teeth. Shoulders drawn, she looked at the bar, seemingly catching her reflection in the mirror behind the bar. “No.”
“He’s the one you delivered those kids to, isn’t it?” I’d known it the moment she mentioned the swagger. His ego had radiated across the parking lot the night Chris and I followed her.
She nodded.
“So why couldn’t you refuse and deal with bankruptcy, if that’s what it came to?”
“Because this kid–and I’m telling you, he wasn’t more than twenty-five–wearing genuine Armani and a Rolex waltzes in with more than just general information. He knew explicit details, including my application for a bailout loan at the bank. He knew…things no one should.” She chewed on a nail, slightly rocking in her seat. “He said his employer could make it all go away.”
“What other things?”
Her glance came and went so fast I barely caught it. “Personal things. I had no choice.”
“You had no choice, really?”
