The Alex Troutt Thrillers: Books 4-6 (Redemption Thriller Series Box Set Book 2)

by John W. Mefford

  “Any luck finding any of his prison colleagues?”

  “Working on it. Getting callbacks from prison officials to the FBI is difficult.”

  A sneeze erupted into the earbud, and I had to yank it out for a second.

  “I think Mount Gretchen just joined us and she blew off her nose,” Nick joked. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m…I’m…” she huffed. A moment later, she released another powerful sneeze.

  “Bless you,” I said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Have you thought about going to the doctor?”

  “No time. I’m actually feeling a little better since I’ve been working from home this evening.”

  Her nasal passages sounded completely stuffed, but if she felt better, then more power to her.

  “I’ve got my five cats sitting all around me. They’re the best medicine any girl could have.”

  “Not sure about that,” Terri said. “Wouldn’t you rather have a hunk of a gentleman waiting on you, taking care of all your needs?” She actually giggled, but she didn’t know Gretchen’s history with men, including my man, Brad. I had to get us back on the rails.

  “Gretchen, we’re all exchanging notes on what we learned today.”

  “I know. I was on mute while I was blowing my nose. Took me about twenty tissues. But enough about me. Just before the call started, Nick, I got a call back from Emma’s sister.”

  “And?”

  “She said that Emma had confided in her that she was so strung out she’d started hooking to pay for her drugs. She was in tears when she told me this. Really sad.”

  Two dots just connected. “Guys, this is big. We knew Gloria Lopez had been a prostitute ten years back. And now confirmation that Emma has been in the same profession. That’s another piece of evidence that shows this could be the same perp.”

  “I’m assuming you mean Tripuka,” Nick said.

  “That’s my guess at this point. But we need someone to say he knew both Gloria Lopez and Emma. The question is: where do we take it from here?”

  “To Mattapan, that’s where,” Gretchen said. “Emma had told her sister there were a couple of rundown motels off Woodrow Avenue where most of the business took place. One where most of the hooking went down, and the other where this one guy sold drugs, mainly ice and coke. He also pretty much served as their pimp. The king of the hill, she called him.”

  I could hear a door slam and keys jingle. “Alex, I’m on my way to pick you up, if you’re game,” Terri said.

  “If you hadn’t offered, I would have been offended. Gretchen, do we have a name for this king of the hill?”

  “The sister heard Emma use the name Crack Daddy.”

  The hunt for a man named Crack Daddy was on.

  ***

  I counted eight streetlights that were out, and we’d only made it about a quarter mile down Woodrow Avenue. Through a light mist off in the distance, I could see two pairs of brake lights. Not a lot of people or movement of any kind. This area of Mattapan seemed deserted and eerily quiet. The windshield wipers scraped across the glass, interrupting the silence.

  “Check it out.” Terri nodded to her side of the street. A woman wearing purple stretch pants and four-inch heels came out of a shadow, sauntering toward the edge of the sidewalk. As we moved closer, I could see her swaying, and I wondered if she might topple over. She was yelling something at us. Terri punched the window down.

  “Hey there.” The woman waved, then shook her torso to create an avalanche of boobs, an enticement that she had probably found to work with most of her potential customers.

  Terri stopped the car.

  “Don’t say anything, just wait for her to approach our car,” I said.

  The woman took a quick glance up and down the street, then hopped off the curb and stepped toward our car. Her heel-clipping echoed off the surrounded buildings. “Hey, honey,” the woman said as she approached. Up close, she looked like a clown who had applied her makeup in the dark. Purples and blues and a loud orange-red all shouted that she either had no clue what she was doing or she didn’t care…or perhaps that was one of her marketing techniques. She leaned down and noticed me in the passenger seat. “Whoa, I charge extra for a three-way. You got the cash?” She put her hands on the side of the car, peering inside. Then something clicked, and she jumped away, her eyes suddenly on high alert.

  “What the fuck? You guys are cops. This is entrapment, that’s what this is.” She started backing away while wagging a finger that appeared crooked.

  Terri held up her hand. “Hold on, we’re not here to bust you. Just want to ask a quick question.”

  The woman kept backing away and gave us a little wave. “Say bye-bye. Candy is going to continue her evening walk now.” She spoke to us like we were little kids, even splitting her red lips for a moment to grin.

  I yelled from across the seat. “We’ll pay you if you answer our question.”

  Candy’s backpedal slowed to a stop. She lowered her chin, and a serious look came over her. It was obvious she was desperate for money. If Emma’s sister had it right, this woman could very well be an addict, only working the streets to pay for her next fix.

  “Come back over here and talk to us, and we’ll pay you.” I picked up my purse so she could see it. I dug for my wallet. My fingers couldn’t find it, and I quickly became frustrated. I looked down for a moment, but all I saw was a cavern of junk. “Dammit, where’s my wallet?” I said under my breath. Then I remembered Erin earlier asking for her allowance. She might have left my wallet out on the counter. “Terri, you have any cash?” While she dug through her purse, I called back out to Candy, “Hold on. We’re getting the cash, just to prove it to you.”

  A moment later, Terri said, “Found it.” She slid a number of bills between her fingers and held up her hand so Candy could see it.

  Candy was like a dog who had just seen hamburger meat. Her eyes fixated on Terri’s hand, and after a brief pause, her heels clopped closer to the car, stopping an arm’s distance away. “What am I thinking? I can’t be seen with no cops.”

  “Then get in the car,” Terri said. “Quick, before anyone notices.”

  Candy shuffled her feet, her face contorted. “Okay, dammit.” She jumped in the backseat and shut the door. “Drive,” she said.

  I faced forward in my seat and allowed my fingers to brush the grip of my Glock. We hadn’t searched her, so who knew if she had a weapon on her, or even a dirty needle? I noticed Terri look in her rearview mirror.

  “It’s okay.” Terri gently pushed the gas pedal, and we started moving. Within a few seconds, we came up to a corner next to an alley and noticed three more women dressed in similar garb as Candy and looking just as desperate.

  “Don’t slow down,” Candy said, hunkering lower in her seat. “Keep moving, or they’ll see me and think I’m ratting out the whole operation.”

  Terri kept the Crown Vic moving, and after another two blocks, she turned left and pulled to a stop.

  “Are we safe here?” Terri asked.

  Candy rose up in her seat and quickly peered out the back window. “Should be.” She turned back around and stuck out her hand. “Cash.”

  Terri handed me the wad of money, but I held it back. “Not until you answer a few questions.”

  “You said one question.”

  “Okay, how about we give you a bill for every answer you give us.”

  Candy ceased movement for a moment, apparently thinking over the new terms. This was a better deal. More questions now meant more bills. But we hadn’t established the denomination of the currency.

  “How much you going to give me each time? Don’t be throwing those one-dollar bills my way. I ain’t no cheap stripper. Candy don’t play that shit.”

  I thumbed through the cash. A little bit of variety, but not much quantity. “How about we start with a ten, and then we’ll work our way up.”

  She licked her lips, her eyes focused on the ten-dollar bill in my
hand. “Fire away, Five-O.”

  “Do you know a girl who worked the streets in this area named Emma?”

  She glanced out the window. I could see red veins splintering the white background of her beady brown eyes. She looked like she was hungover, hadn’t slept in a while.

  “Candy, did you know Emma?”

  She rubbed her nose, then cleared her throat. “She called herself Pandora. She jokingly said that if someone really opened her box, everyone would be shocked with what came out. Shock and awe, that was what she said. Dare to open Pandora’s box, and she’ll go shock and awe on yo ass.”

  “Candy, are you aware that she died? Someone killed her.”

  She brought a hand to her face. Her nails were chipped pink. I guessed they hadn’t been painted in weeks. She gasped a couple of times, and her eyes became moist. “I didn’t know for sure. There was a rumor. But around here, we always assume the worst, because then you got nowhere to go but up. It helps us deal with all the shit in our lives.”

  Terri pulled a tissue from her purse and handed it to the broken woman in the backseat.

  “How did she go?” Candy asked, her voice cracking.

  “Can’t get into all the details about everything that she endured, but she was shot in the head.”

  “Oh God.” Candy rocked forward and groaned. She laid her forehead against the back of the front seat and sobbed, then dug what little nails she had into the cloth seat.

  “Candy.”

  Another sob, this one laced with garbled words.

  “Candy, you can help us catch the person who did this.”

  She slowly lifted her head and sat back. Smeared makeup and tears coated her face. Terri quickly pulled out three more tissues and gave them to her.

  “I’m a fucking mess,” she said. “And I’m not talking about my face.” She tried to laugh, but more tears squirted out.

  As she wiped under her eyes and across her cheeks, the real Candy became visible. She was younger than I’d thought, although her skin had red splotches, as if she were allergic to the face paint.

  She released a breath, dropping her arms into her lap. “I hate to even admit it, but I need that money you promised me.”

  I handed her the ten-dollar bill, and she stuffed it into her undersized sports bra.

  “Next question,” she said in monotone, her eyes blankly staring out the window.

  Terri and I traded a quick glance. We both knew Candy was back in survival mode.

  “Candy, you can help us catch the person who did this.”

  She jerked her head around. “What are you talking about? I’m just a working girl, doing my thing, making my money, paying my bills. Taking care of numero uno, that’s what I’m worrying about.”

  Terri yanked out her phone, flipped her thumb across the screen, then stuck the phone in front of Candy’s face.

  “You see that?”

  Candy strained her neck to look ninety degrees to her left, refusing to glance at the phone.

  “Candy, it’s time to face reality and see what this life will do to you. Look at the picture.”

  Candy shook her head as more tears trailed down her face. “No. No…I can’t. You can’t make me.”

  I grabbed the package of tissues from Terri and handed a couple more back to Candy.

  “We know this isn’t easy. You didn’t expect to deal with this tonight, but you knew it was a possibility, right?”

  She sighed. “We hadn’t seen her in a couple days, and then one girl said she heard she’d been capped.”

  Another gasp and she scrunched the tissue against her face. “Usually in the past, whenever she was gone, we knew that she’d gotten back with her boyfriend, the one who beat the shit out of her. And then, without warning, she’d show up, all strung out and needing to turn a few tricks to pay for her drugs. Anything for Pandora to take the edge off.”

  Terri started to bring her hand back to the front seat, but Candy quickly grabbed her wrist and focused on the picture of Emma’s corpse. I could see the muscles in her jaw clamp down.

  “I had to see her one last time. It’s tough, but in some ways she looks more at peace than any time I can remember.”

  I handed her another ten-dollar bill, just so she wouldn’t ask. She stored the bill inside her bra again.

  Terri thumbed through more pictures, then found the one of Tripuka.

  “Have you seen this man trolling around the neighborhood, possibly one of Emma’s customers?”

  Candy blew her nose, then tossed the tissue on the floor. She leaned closer and studied the picture, her eyes blinking repeatedly, as if someone were shining a light in her pupils.

  “Hmm. I can’t say yes, but I can’t say no either.”

  I held up another bill, this one a twenty. She snatched it from my hand.

  “I wasn’t really asking for more money, but if you’re offering, I’m not going to turn it down.”

  I just nodded. “So does he look familiar? We only want to know if it’s true.”

  She drew her lips into a straight line. “I’ve seen so many guys running around here, they all blend together. Nothing about this guy in your picture stands out, so I guess it’s a no.”

  “You guess?” Terri asked, irritation in her tone.

  “I don’t have a photogenic mind.”

  Terri and I avoided the obvious correction.

  “And I don’t ask for IDs or get fingerprints before I do my thing.”

  “Okay.”

  “But if you got a hard copy of that photo, then I’ll show to a few people. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

  Terri pulled out a copy of Tripuka’s mug shot, then wrote her number on the back. “Here you go.”

  Candy took one more look, then stuffed it in with the cash. “I need to clean myself up before I get back out there. Do either of you have some lipstick I can borrow?” She began to fan her face.

  I continued our interview. “I might have something, but I first need you to tell me everything you know about a guy who goes by the name Crack Daddy.”

  “Who gave you that name?”

  “Emma’s sister.”

  “Look, bringing up his name, that’s nowhere you need to go.” She slid closer to the door.

  “Candy, hold on. This guy might know who killed Emma. He’s your pimp, right?”

  She rubbed her nose and looked down. “I guess. He does a lot for us.” Another tear escaped her eyes, and she used a thumb to snuff it out. “And he’s done a lot to us.”

  “How?”

  “Do we really need to get into this now? I’m a fucking mess as it is, and I just need to get back to work and pray like hell that no one has seen me.”

  “What if they have?”

  “What if they have?” She cocked her head. “Then you-know-who could come crack my head open. Do you want that on your conscience?”

  I felt a tick in the back of my mind, and my neck grew stiff. “Candy, do you think that this Crack Daddy fella had anything to do with Emma’s death?”

  “Oh shit, you going there? You really going there?”

  “Only if it’s real, Candy. Tell me what you know, or at least what you’re thinking. It will only stay between the three of us.”

  She smacked her thighs with both hands. “Look, you two got nothing on the line here.”

  “We’re paying you, aren’t we?” Terri said.

  “Pssh. What’s a few bucks to you? You’ll just drive your ass out of here and go to your safe homes in your safe neighborhoods, not a care in the world.”

  “I get it, Candy…your life sucks,” Terri said, now up on her knees. “But we want to help you. We can take you right now to a home for battered women. As long as you promise to keep clean, they’ll let you stay there. They will protect you, feed you, and help you find a real job.”

  “And what about my babies?”

  “You have kids?”

  “Two. Ages ten and thirteen. Both girls. Adorable as hell.”
/>   I put a hand on the seat. “Are they with someone tonight?”

  “At my sister’s. Why?”

  “Nothing.”

  She shook her head. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

  “Didn’t say that. We only want to help you kick whatever drug habit you’ve got.”

  “Screw that shit. That’ll never happen. Thanks for the cheap date, but I gotta get back to work.” She pulled the metal door handle, and it clicked.

  “Hold on,” I said. “Crack Daddy. We need more information, even if you’re not going to take the opportunity to get yourself fixed.”

  “Look, I don’t know if he had anything to do with Emma’s death. He’s all bark and very little bite. I know he’s beaten up a few girls, even threatened one with a gun right in front of me. But he knows if he crossed that line, then he’d lose his moneymakers. Us.”

  I nodded. “Good to know. Where can we find him? We need to ask him a few questions.”

  She looked through the back window. Apparently satisfied there was no one watching, she turned back around and extended her hand, palm up, wiggling her fingers. “More questions means more money, right?”

  I found another twenty in the thinning stack and gave it to her.

  “He’s set up at the Paul Revere Motel down the street, the one with the blinking orange sign.”

  “You know what room?”

  “The whole west wing on the second floor. His boys have torn down a few walls and made it into his man cave. He does everything there. Runs his drug business, interviews girls, takes them on a ‘test run,’ as he calls it. Even lives there, when he’s not driving around in a Seville.” She pushed open the door, then leaned back in. “You got any makeup to spare?”

  I moved a few things around in my purse, found a lipstick, and handed it to her. She shoved it in her pocket, then we looked at Terri.

  “What? I don’t really carry any makeup.”

  I smirked. “Not surprising, I guess.”

  “Later, Five-O.” Candy slipped out of the car and shut the door.

  I motioned for Terri to roll her window back down, then I leaned over and hollered, “Call that number, Candy, if you want us to help you. Don’t worry about what other people think.”