The People vs. Cashmere 2

by Karen P. Williams

I chuckled and looked at him. “I guess anything is possible.”

  He blew a kiss my way, turned, and got in his car. I walked toward my house.

  When I got inside, I saw my mother sitting on my couch and the smell of weed in the air.

  “Why are you smoking in my house?” I demanded.

  “Because I needed something to take the edge off ’cause that little bitch! Let me tell you, I’m done with her.”

  “First off, you way out of line. I don’t care what she does, Mom, don’t call my child a bitch.”

  “Hell she called me one! I never thought my grandbaby would do that.”

  “It’s the drugs and she knows stuff that makes her hate me, you, the world! Anyway. Where is she?”

  “In her room. I been guarding this living room like a damn pit bull to make sure her ass don’t get out!”

  I took a deep breath and headed up the stairs. When I got to her door, I took a deep breath, not even knowing where I was going to start. But what I did know was that I had to fix this. One thing was that I was going to find out what type of drugs she was using, put her in detox, then go from there.

  I knocked on her door. “Dom?” I waited a few seconds for her to answer. I was met with silence.

  Maybe she is ’sleep, I thought. I opened the door and stepped inside. Panic hit me. My heart slammed into my chest. Her room was empty. “Shit!” I ran out her room, yelling, “Mom!”

  “What?”

  I rushed down the stairs. “She is not in her room. Goddamn you, Mama, you were supposed to watch her!”

  “I have been! Maybe she’s in the bathroom. Calm down!”

  I rushed back up the stairs and ran down the hall and burst into the bathroom. It was empty. Anxiety continued to pulse through me until I was sick to my stomach. I became nauseated and wanted to throw up at the thought of my child being missing. I searched the whole house and still did not find her. My mother followed me but she was more helpless than I was.

  “I don’t know how she could have snuck out. I swear on my dead mother’s life I was watching her,” my mom said in a distressed voice. Tears started sliding down her face. “I don’t want my grandbaby missing I swear to you. I haven’t left the house. All I did was use the bathroom. Maybe she snuck out then.”

  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I yelled covering my face with my hands. I had to think of something. I knew who could help me. Well I hoped he could! My heart continued to pound. I wished Caesar hadn’t left. I pulled out my cell phone and called him. As soon as he answered, I blurted, “I need you now. Please come back to my house!”

  Approximately five minutes later I could hear the sirens on his car as they pulled into the driveway. I rushed to the door and opened it as he had a balled hand up to knock.

  “Come in!”

  He stepped inside quickly. “What’s wrong?”

  “Dominique is missing.” I started sobbing. “I don’t know where she is.”

  “Calm down, baby.” He wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Didn’t you put a GPS on her phone? We can easily find her that way.”

  “Oh yeah.” But as soon as that hope hit me it deflated. “I took her phone back.”

  “Okay. Let me make a few phone calls.”

  I listened to Caesar call some officer, I assumed, because he told them to put out an APB and he even texted him a picture of Dominique.

  “Where do you think she is?”

  My mom said, “Maybe the strip club. You found her in the Barbary Coast.”

  “Come on. Let’s go check,” Caesar said.

  We both rushed outside to his car. Once inside he put on his sirens and we flew down the street.

  Chapter 32

  Cashmere

  We both came back to the house empty-handed and my heart was heavy. Dominique wasn’t there. A check with the patrol officer Caesar had contacted revealed she was nowhere to be seen. They continued to look though he had told me.

  I walked through the door being supported by Caesar because I was so distressed it seemed that my energy was leaving me.

  Once we made it inside the house my mother rushed up to us. “I’m trying to get in contact with Hank so he can help but he not answering. Did you find her?” My mother asked.

  “No.”

  “Show me her room,” Caesar said.

  We rushed up the stairs and once there he said, “Does she have a diary or anything like that?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Well start looking. Maybe we can find something.”

  I started going through my daughter’s backpack, her drawers, but found nothing. Caesar was searching in her closet. I went to her laptop and tried to log on to her Facebook but since I didn’t know her password I was unable to log on. It was the same for her Twitter and Instagram. In rage I snatched up the laptop and threw it.

  Caesar was looking under her bed and turned around when he heard the loud crash of the laptop hitting the wall. He stood to his feet and grabbed me by my arms. “Baby. Calm down.”

  I shook my head and tried to snatch away, but he wouldn’t let me. “Baby, look at me.”

  I did and tears ran down my face.

  “We are going to find her. Something, some type of clue, is in this room. Thing is it is probably going to be in a spot you least expect, baby.”

  I nodded.

  Caesar knocked her blankets and sheets off of her bed. I tossed the teddy bears and throw pillows to the floor. I grabbed the pillow Dominique used to sleep on. It was covered in a silk pink pillowcase. I could see smudges on it. It made me want to cry all over again. I just wanted my baby back. I pressed the pillow to my face and could smell her scent on it. Shit seemed so alive, like she was right here. Crazy part was as alive is it felt she could be lying somewhere dead, murdered or OD on drugs. Something crinkled in the pillowcase. My eyes narrowed and I grabbed the edge of the pillowcase so the pillow and whatever else was in it would fall to the floor.

  They were letters wrapped in a rubber band.

  My eyes scanned one of the letters quickly.

  Lord, when I say my knees got weak and I thought I was going to pass out when I saw two words . . . Black Mitchell.

  Caesar was speaking to someone on the phone and I sat on the couch with my hands covering my face in tears. Every time I thought I was done crying the tears came again and again. I could not believe that that motherfucker had been in contact with my daughter. But how? How did he know about her and how in the hell did she find out about him? When I saw his name on those envelopes I seriously thought the room was spinning.

  In the letters he basically told my daughter about the ho game. He gave her tips, all the tricks of the trade. He was basically pimping his own daughter out from prison. Man, when I say I hated that man . . . If I could have killed him I really would. No one would be able to stop me from making his heart stop beating if I had the chance. That was the scary part. If I could take his life, first opportunity I got I was going to. He had destroyed my baby. Corrupted her and made her hate me. Made her what I was once. “And she didn’t have to. Shit didn’t have to be this way,” I cried miserably.

  “I don’t know why the fuck you won’t answer your gotdamn phone! My granddaughter is missing! I need you, motherfucker, and you once again are missing in action!” My mother was raging into her cell phone. She ended the call and sat down next to me in frustration. Her eyes were moist with tears. Her tears were a combination of pain from her husband being missing in action again and for Dom. I knew it had to bother her too.

  “I’m sorry, Cashmere. I wish I could be more help to you.”

  I didn’t respond. Part of me would always blame my mother for this shit. ’Cause if she hadn’t abandoned us after my father’s accident maybe just maybe we wouldn’t be here, despite my aunt’s talk of that shit being my and my sister’s destiny. At the moment I honestly had no energy to hate my mother, rage at her, or take it out on her. Because I felt like I was going to collapse, my heart was thudding violently in my
chest. I just kept my eyes closed as hot tears continued to pour down my face.

  Caesar had two patrol cars out looking. Two of them were off shift and did it just to help him out. He went a step further and called someone he knew was a private investigator and they were talking in the corner of the living room. First thing he wanted to know after reading the letters was did I find any envelopes so he could trace an address on there. But there were none found.

  I felt a hand over mine. It was my mother. She was sobbing and whispering, “This is all my fault. I wish I had killed that bastard when I had the chance.”

  You preaching to the choir, I thought. “I’m going out to look for her. It makes no sense to just sit around.” I grabbed my keys and my phone and walked toward the door.

  “I’ll go look in my car too,” my mother suggested.

  I didn’t respond but I figured her looking too wouldn’t hurt.

  I ended up driving for hours and hours and no matter how long I was out there, there was no sign of my child and my tears just would not stop pouring down my face. I even went to ho strolls asking if they had seen Dominique. I showed them pictures of her and even offered money. I went back to the strip clubs and even to my neighbors. My tank of gas went out, but still, I kept driving. When my truck threatened to stop I filled it up again and continued to drive around. And still nothing.

  I did it all that night. Went home, rested for a couple hours, and then went out looking again. For a total of three days my child was missing. And I had no idea where she was. Caesar and my mother continued to help. And the investigator still had nothing. I stared into space as I sat on the couch. Caesar had met me back at the house and my mother was also there.

  Just then my phone chimed telling me I had a text message. I opened the message and my eyes narrowed at a number I didn’t recognize.

  It’s me, Mom. This text message is to let you know that I’m not coming back. If you don’t know by now I know that my dad is Black Mitchell. Shame on you, Mom, for keeping it from me after all these years. Well he is finally free and I’m living with him. Don’t bother trying to look for me. You won’t find me so it will be a waste of your time. And if by some miracle you were to find me it doesn’t matter because I won’t go with you willingly. And if you force me I’ll run away again and again. I love my father and he loves me right back. I’d rather have this life than the fake one you offered. A home with no love. Yours just wasn’t enough for me. I always felt empty inside. And now my daddy makes me whole. You can always have some more kids with that police officer. Bye.

  Okay that’s when the walls around me appeared to be closing in. I felt weak, hot, clammy. I stood to my feet and my knees wobbled.

  “What wrong?” my mother demanded.

  My knees gave in and I collapsed to the floor. The last thing I heard was my mom yelling my name at the top of her lungs before everything went black.

  I felt something cold on my forehead. When I opened my eyes my mother was standing over me while Caesar was on the phone. I sat up quickly.

  “Caesar, she’s up,” my mother said.

  Caesar looked up, put up a finger and continued with his phone call.

  Thoughts of the text came back to me making me moan. “Mom, is this shit going on real? Did—”

  “Yes and yes. According to Caesar that Black bastard is out of jail. Matter fact, he was released three days ago.”

  This all seemed like a nightmare. Everything from start to finish. Losing my husband, Dominique stripping and having sex with other boys, and now this. The unbelievable just happened: my child ran off to be with her father, my old pimp. My world was so fucked up right now. If I couldn’t make this shit right I was going to kill myself. I might as well be dead if my child was gone. But how did she know about Black being her dad? How in the fuck did she know he was locked up and how to get to him? My aunt couldn’t have taken her to see Black and she knew nothing about getting into the lifestyle. Someone else was involved and they helped Dom enter the lifestyle. I put two and two together based off one of the letters; someone named Sunshine was on there. I didn’t know who that was but the investigator read the letter and held on to it.

  Caesar ended his call and strode over to me. “Okay. Here’s what I know. Black Mitchell was released to a halfway house in Oakland two months ago. He was released from the halfway house three days ago. The systems weren’t yet updated and the last time I ran his rap sheet it showed he was still incarcerated.”

  “I told her,” my mom said.

  “How the fuck?” I demanded.

  “He was locked up for thirteen years, he had very minor priors, and he was released for running a good prison program.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes briefly.

  “Question: I traced the number on the text message. I was able to get the name and address of a Meka Stanton. It’s a crazy coincidence because I’m supposed to question her on the case I’ve been working on with the young girl, Patrice Wilson. She stays in Compton. Do you know her?”

  Chapter 33

  Cashmere

  Compton, CA, eighteen years ago:

  After the officer freed me once he got what he wanted he shoved me out of his car on to the pavement, got in his car, and drove off. “Fuck you!” I winced at the pain of my knees slapping against the hard, cold concrete. I was still drunk out of my mind and the X pill was still kicking in. I lay there for a moment and could hear his tires screeching against the ground as he sped away.

  A few seconds later I heard, “Cash!”

  “Who the fuck is it!” I yelled.

  “Your sister, dumbass.”

  I looked up as Desiree came out of the shadows. She helped me to my feet. “Man, that horny-ass po po did a number on you.”

  “You mean you saw it?”

  “Yeah, I was right there.”

  “Well why in the fuck didn’t you help me, bitch? Do something.”

  “Was I supposed to go up against a bullet?” But the gleam in her eyes made me feel like she enjoyed the shit. Like she wanted to see me suffer. I just didn’t get it.

  “If it were you nothing could ever stop me from protecting you. I hate you sometimes I swear,” I said miserably. I was angry about the fact that my sister seemed to want me to suffer when I never ever wanted that for her. Her pain was my pain. But for some reason it just wasn’t the same.

  “Okay let that shit go. It’s over with. He fucked! So what he’s a cop? Just add him to the list of all our other men. Now listen I need you to come on and let’s make this money.”

  I stood to my feet and adjusted my clothes. “What?”

  ‘Meka is at the hotel down the street. She got a high roller and nigga is feeling real freaky. He want some more bitches and he paying up, little sister.”

  I had been working all day and just wanted to go to sleep. “I’m tired. And Black didn’t tell me to go there,” I protested. My sister was once again getting me involved in some mess.

  “Don’t matter ’cause he told me to tell you, little sister, so just shut the fuck up. You been on the block all day and he a little pissed with you. So if I were you I’d advise you to make it up to him by making this paper.”

  “Fuck Black Mitchell!”

  She shoved me forward and flinched at me. At the moment I was too weak to fight back. “You know what, I’m not going to let you piss me off. There is too much money to be made so come the fuck on! You’re going! You don’t want to piss Black off and he beat your ass again.”

  True enough I didn’t because the beating he put on me earlier still had me sore and bruised up. I shook my head at my sister. She was always anxious for a job. She was on drugs so bad that the amount Black supplied her with just wasn’t enough for her anymore.

  After the short trek, when we got to the hotel room and knocked Meka let us in. She was a year younger than my sister and had been working for Black since she was twelve years old. I was surprised that she hipped us to this since all the time she acted like she hate
d my guts.

  She unlocked the door for us and stepped aside so we could enter. She was ass buck-naked. We slipped in and she locked the door back. There was music playing and a guy was lying on the bed in his boxers.

  “Y’all ladies just in time; y’all can join me in an ass-shaking contest. And he tipping,” Meka said giggling.

  “No problem with me!” Desiree stripped down and joined Meka. They both put their butts in his face and started dropping it low, flapping their asses up and down to the music. The dude loved every minute of it and started slapping them on their asses. Dollars flew everywhere.

  “Is this money bonus?” Desiree asked.

  “Yes, baby, go ahead and get that. Trust there’s more. I’m real paid.”

  As they giggled and retrieved the money, he got on his knees in the bed and commanded that they both kiss on him.

  I looked away in disgust as they did, forgetting I was in the room. I was so tired of this shit. So tired of this life. I wanted out so bad. Maybe killing myself would be the only real way.

  I started sliding a finger up and down my arm pushing one of my nails in deeper as I got toward my vein.

  A few moments later, I heard him moan. “Get me ready,” he ordered. I heard jerking and him moaning again.

  “Who you want first, daddy?”

  “I want her over there first.”

  Then as if all of a sudden they remembered I was there, Meka and Desiree looked at me.

  Of course Desiree looked mad that he requested me first. And Meka always looked at me like she wanted to fuck me up, which I was cool with ’cause I always knew she didn’t want to see me because I would have beat her ass for sure. But I had no energy to do that right now. And I didn’t want no part of this man. No matter how handsome he was or how much money he was tossing around I didn’t want it and I didn’t want him. I didn’t want him to touch me period. But hell when did my young ass ever have a choice in this? Us girls, we never did. Why couldn’t someone rescue me from this life?