Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2) (25 page)

BOOK: Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2)
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Chapter 67
Day Four: 11:35 a.m.

A
ngela and Loretha sat in her office for over an hour, talking about Peaches and the other girls in the house, alternately laughing and crying.

For the third time, Angela checked her smartphone, hoping Dre had responded to one of her many calls and texts.

Loretha pursed her lips. “That’s a tough situation you’re in.”

Angela nodded sadly. “I know.”

“You’ll get her back.”

“I certainly hope so because I don’t think Dre will be able to handle it if he doesn’t. If something happens to Brianna, he’ll kill Shep.”

Loretha turned away and stared out of the window. “That might not be a bad thing.”

They were both quiet for a long time.

“I want to thank you again for your willingness to take Peaches under your wing,” Loretha said. “A lot of people tell me they want to mentor my girls, but few actually mean it.”

Loretha stood up.

Angela stayed put. “You’re putting me out? There has to be somebody else in this house I can mentor? Who else you got?”

“You serious?”

“As a heart attack. And I was serious about helping you start a mentoring program too.”

Loretha seemed to be thinking for a minute. “I do have another girl who could use some mentoring. You briefly met her yesterday. She’s all bravado, but she’s nothing but a baby underneath. I see something in her that you may be able to bring out. She’s Latina, only fourteen. You game?”

“Absolutely.” Angela hopped up from the couch. “Let’s go meet her.”

They walked out of Loretha’s office and up the stairs. Loretha knocked softly on Carmen’s door, paused a second, then walked in without waiting for the girl’s okay.

Carmen was sitting at a small desk, drawing on a scratch pad.

“Carmen’s our resident artist,” Loretha bragged.

The girl looked up at Angela, rolled her eyes, then went back to her work.

“What are you drawing?” Angela asked.

“My new house. The one I’m gonna have if I can ever break out of this prison.”

Angela and Loretha smiled.

“Angela’s your new mentor,” Loretha said. “I’m going to leave you two alone so you can get to know each other.”

Angela sat down on the bed behind the girl.

“So tell me something about yourself?” Angela began.

Carmen turned around. “Look, I don’t even wanna be here and—”

The girl took a long look at Angela. “Uh, I don’t mean to be rude or nothin’, but you look whipped. Your mascara is a mess. You been cryin’?”

Angela stood and examined her face in the mirror on the back of the door.

She tried to wipe the black mascara from underneath her eyes with her fingers.

“Actually, I have,” she replied.

Maybe if she showed her own vulnerability, the girl might open up to her.

“So why you cryin’?”

“One of the girls I was mentoring went back to her pimp. I was hoping I could help her see a different side of life.”

The girl hunched her shoulders and turned back to her artwork. “Y’all need to understand that being in the life ain’t that bad. She’s probably like me. She’d rather be with her Daddy than be stuck up in here. It’s boring.”

Angela knew that now was not the time to try to reason with the girl.

“Also, my friend’s thirteen-year-old daughter was kidnapped by a pimp three days ago. We’ve been trying to find her.”

Carmen turned around and faced Angela again. This time, her face showed sympathy.

“See, that’s crazy. My daddy don’t do that. All his girls wanna be with him. He don’t be kidnappin’ nobody. Who’s her pimp?”

“A guy they called The Shepherd.”

Carmen’s young eyes expanded. “O-M-G! That girl is in big trouble!”

Angela moved to the end of the bed, closer to Carmen. “You know him?”

“I heard of him. One of my wives-in-law, Shareese, used to be with him. She ran away to be with my daddy. The Shepherd makes his girls work like slaves. All he cares about is money. My daddy never makes us do more than five or six johns a day.”

Angela wanted to explain to Carmen the many reasons her
daddy
didn’t deserve her praise. But right now, it was more important to find out if she had any information that could help Dre find Brianna.

“Yeah, I heard The Shepherd was hard on his girls,” Angela said.

“Hard don’t describe it.”

“Do you know where his girls live?”

Carmen shook her head.

“Do you think your—” she could barely bring herself to say the word, “wife-in-law Shareese could help us find out where The Shepherd’s girls live?”

Carmen shook her head vigorously. “No way. We don’t never tell on our daddies. And anyway, Shareese said The Shepherd makes them wear hoods every time they leave the house. They don’t even know where they live. The Shepherd is rich. He has lots of houses and he moves his girls around so the po-po can’t catch ’em. Y’all just better find her before he breaks her down.”

“What do you mean?”

Carmen tapped her index finger against her temple several times. “Get in her head. Your daddy knows how to get into your head and make you loyal. Once they do that, you don’t never want to leave the life.”

Angela swallowed. This world seemed so unreal. She was sitting here talking to a fourteen-year-old about a pimp. Her eyes moistened at the thought of Brianna, a child she’d never met, being repeatedly raped by grown men.

Carmen noticed Angela’s tears and seemed to soften a bit.

“I know one way you might be able to find her,” Carmen said empathetically.

Angela wiped her face with a tissue from her purse. “How?”

“Just make a date.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everybody know The Shepherd don’t have his girls walking the track unless they mess up or mouth off. That’s why they think they’re better than everybody else. Shareese told me he own his own motels in the Valley. His girls just be in the rooms waiting for the johns to show up. He do everything on the Internet. My daddy don’t know how to work a computer that good, but he said he might try to learn one day.”

“So how would I go about making a date?”

Carmen huffed in exasperation. “Just go on MyBackPage.com.”

“What’s that?”

“You really are clueless. It’s an Internet site where johns go to make a date. A dude can put in the city and get a list of girls to go on a date with.”

Angela was stupefied.

“They pay the money on their credit card, then go to the motel and have their date.”

Angela could feel her pulse start to race. “But how would I know I’m getting one of Shep’s girls?”

“Cuz he got his brand tattooed on his girls.”

“Do you know The Shepherd’s brand?”

“It’s the letters S and H with a dollar sign.”

Angela snatched her purse and pulled her iPad Mini from her purse. Her hands shook as she typed in the letters of the website. It seemed to take forever for the page to load. Angela’s shock intensified as she realized what she was looking at. The site did indeed advertise girls for
dates
.

Carmen had joined her on the bed and was looking at the screen too. “If you see a girl’s body and her face blurred out like that, it means she’s probably under eighteen.”

Angela’s mouth fell open as she scrolled through screens and screens of girls with blurred faces.

How could this be going
on?

“You can’t put in no age or nothin’. But say you want somebody with long hair or big tits, you can search for that.”

Angela doubted that she would be lucky enough to find Brianna on this site, but if she could identify one of The Shepherd’s girls and make a date, that might lead them to the location of one of his motels, and possibly, Brianna.

This seemed so incredibly simple. If this fourteen-year-old knew this, why didn’t the police?

“Just put in L.A. and look for one of the young girls with The Shepherd’s brand and make a date,” Carmen directed her. “He might have her working at his motel tonight.”

Carmen had no idea how valuable this information was.

“Y’all coulda found her a long time ago,” Carmen said. “All you needed to do was make a date.”

Still stunned, Angela stared at this womanly child and shook her head.

Out of the mouths of babes.

Chapter 68
Day Four: 12:10 p.m.

T
he Shepherd finally took Freda’s call giving him an update on Clint’s condition. He listened, expressing no sign of emotion or concern.

“I don’t care whether Clint lives or dies,” he said coldly, when Freda had finished. “He betrayed me with his stupidity. Just make sure that girl is on lockdown.”

He hung up without saying good-bye.

The events of the last few hours were not reason for alarm or panic. They dictated calm deliberation. Fools and amateurs panicked. He could not run successful operations by freaking out at the first sign of a glitch.

The Shepherd could not deny, however, that Andre “Dre” Thomas was turning out to be a much bigger problem than he had anticipated. It wasn’t often that The Shepherd underestimated his opponents. Few had ever challenged him over the years. It was his fault for becoming lax, for handing his operation over to men who did not have the appropriate mental acumen. He would fix that.

The Shepherd showered and dressed in black slacks and a white Polo shirt. Black men in the hood were always complaining about being hassled by the cops. If they didn’t want to be harassed, then they shouldn’t dress like hoodlums and speak as if they’d never gone to school.

Standing in the foyer of his great room, Shep surveyed his magnificent surroundings. His intellect and drive had earned him millions. He would not lose this. He would not lose his freedom. He would fix this problem.

He walked outside and spotted a large Italian who was pretending to paint his home. He was actually a bodyguard The Shepherd had hired just in case Andre Thomas was foolish enough to actually come to his neighborhood. He couldn’t believe Clint had actually given up his address.

The Shepherd waved to his neighbor.

“Good afternoon, Bill,” he said to the lawyer who was finishing his mid-day walk.

“Hey, Rodney,” Bill called back. “Beautiful day in paradise, isn’t it?”

The Shepherd laughed. “Yes, indeed.”

Sliding behind the wheel of his Bentley, The Shepherd headed for City Stars. It was over an hour before he arrived at the club. The Shepherd reminded himself to keep his emotions in check once he got inside. A true leader never lost his composure.

It was well past the lunch hour, but the club was still packed with businessmen. At this time of the day, his clientele was mostly white and Asian. These men had jobs that did not require them to punch a time clock. By evening, the club would be all black.

The Shepherd stopped to admire the new girl on stage. He would definitely have to try her out.

He ascended the back staircase to his private office on the second level. He had not taken the time to greet any of the workers whose bills he paid, though they all smiled his way. They knew he was the owner, but little else about him. He preferred it that way.

Large followed him into the office and closed the door. He waited in silence as The Shepherd settled into a red leather chair behind a massive, black lacquer desk. Shep steepled his fingers, then looked up at his underling.

“How did this happen?”

“Uh...the dudes weren’t even carrying. They grabbed Clint and dragged him out the back door before anybody even knew what happened.”

“How many bouncers work here?”

“Four.”

“And where were they?”

“Two dudes started fighting. Everybody went to deal with that.”

“And who do you think set up that fight?”

“I…uh…” Large’s vacant eyes indicated that he’d just put two and two together.

A warrior must take the blame for the mistakes of the
weak.

“Never mind.” The Shepherd inhaled. “You can leave.”

He would deal with the inadequate security of his operation after he had discussed this problem with the one person who was ultimately responsible for this entire ordeal.

The Shepherd took out an untraceable cell phone and dialed.

“You’ve created a tremendous problem for me,” were his first words to the man. There was no need for introductions or niceties.

“What are you talking about?”

“The last girl you gave us did not fit my criteria.”

He could sense the man’s nervousness through the phone line.

“Her uncle is causing problems for me. And if he’s causing a problem for me, he’s also causing a problem for you.”

The Shepherd’s operation had worked smoothly up until now because he targeted the right girls.

The man finally spoke. “She
did
fit the criteria. She didn’t have a mother or father in the picture and lived with her grandmother. I didn’t know about her uncle. It wasn’t my job to check out the whole family tree.”

The Shepherd’s teeth clenched at the man’s lack of respect.

“You must be more careful in the future.”

“You’re going to keep my name out of this, right?”

Shep chuckled. He was surrounded by weakness.

“Just send the girl back home,” the man said. “Leave it at that. We have others in the pipeline.”

“Maybe you should send back that thousand-dollar finder’s fee I paid you.”

That suggestion was met with silence.

“I just don’t want any trouble. Everything has been running smoothly. Just give her back.”

“You must be more careful in the future,” The Shepherd admonished him. “For your safety as well as mine.”

Chapter 69
Day Four: 3:30 p.m.

B
onnie remained in her classroom after the ending bell, hoping to get a few papers graded. She couldn’t concentrate, however, because her mind kept wondering what she was going to stumble onto when she walked into the administration office.

She eyed the clock on the wall at the back of the classroom. Chiquita had been on the job for about thirty minutes. Now would be a good time to find out what kind of
work
Chiquita was really doing.

Bonnie stuck the papers she was grading into a folder and slid it into her oversized purse. She looked around the classroom to make sure everything was in place, then turned out the lights.

Bonnie wanted to talk to Wainright about her suspicions, but figured she should have some evidence before going to him. The hallway outside was deserted and the school was quiet. This was the time of day she liked most.

Her steps slowed the closer she got to the administration office. She knew the staff would be gone. They hightailed it out the minute their shifts ended. If anybody else was still around, she hoped it would be Wainright. She would need a credible witness.

When she entered the office, she did not see Chiquita behind the counter. No one was present.

My goodness! Please don’t tell me that fool has the audacity to be alone with that girl in his
office.

Bonnie reached down and unlocked the latch on the swinging gate that allowed her to enter the area behind the front counter. The door to Principal Ortiz’s office was closed.

So where was Chiquita?

Bonnie peered down a hallway, but did not see or hear any signs of life.

Gathering up her courage, she knocked on the door of the principal’s office.

“Who is it?” he yelled through the door.

Was that rustling inside the
office?

“Ms. Flanagan,” she yelled back.

A full minute passed before Ortiz’s door opened. He stood in the way, blocking her view of the office’s interior.

“Can I help you?” He was not happy to have been disturbed.

“I’m looking for Chiquita Gomez.”

“And why would you be looking for her in my office?”

“She told me she was working in the administration office after school today.”

“Yeah and?”

“So where is she?”

“She already left.”

Bonnie turned to look at the clock on the wall behind her. “School’s barely been out for forty-five minutes. How long did she work?”

“I didn’t have much for her to do today, so she left early.”

You liar. That girl is hiding in your office right now. That’s why you won’t open the
door.

“Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you sure she’s not in your office?”

“Ms. Flanagan, you’re way out of line. I’ve been tolerating your disrespect because you’re a good teacher. But you’re really pushing it. Exactly what are you implying?”

“I’m just wondering why you’d have a student working alone in your office when no one else is around. That seems highly inappropriate.”

“Look, Chiquita has a rough family life. The free lunch she gets at school is the only meal she has on most days. I made up some work for her to do as an excuse to give her a few bucks. She’s a good kid.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“And just what do you believe?”

“I believe there’s something inappropriate going on between you and that child.”

Ortiz’s eyes shot rays of fire into hers.

“Do you understand that I hold your career in my hands, Ms. Flanagan? I could have you out of here just like that.” He snapped his fingers.

“You’d have to have a reason to get me out of here.”

“I could make one up.”

Bonnie wished she’d been smart enough to turn on the tape recorder on her smartphone.

“That would be retaliation.”

“So? Happens all the time.”

“If there’s nothing inappropriate going on between you and that girl, open the door and let me check your office.”

“What you’re insinuating is both outrageous and defamatory. I’m not letting you in my office.”

“You would if you didn’t have anything to hide.”

Ortiz angrily stared her down, then stepped back and flung open the door.

Bonnie stepped inside and to her shock, Chiquita was not in the office. She was about to turn and leave when she remembered the principal’s private bathroom. Without asking, she charged into it. Empty.

“You satisfied now?”

No, I’m not satisfied.

“Okay, fine,” she said. “I was mistaken. I apologize.”

Ortiz’s nostrils flared. “Just like you were mistaken about those missing girls. You can leave now.” Ortiz slammed the door a second after she stepped across the threshold.

Bonnie still wasn’t convinced that nothing was going on. Chiquita probably told Ortiz about their conversation. Maybe that was the reason he sent her home early.

Now Bonnie was even more worried. Ortiz was a fundamentally vindictive man. She wouldn’t put it past him to make up something to get back at her. He practically said he would. To protect herself, she would report the incident to Wainright first thing in the morning.

In the meantime, Bonnie would just have to watch her back. The next time she confronted that pervert, she’d be sure to get his fat butt on tape.

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