True Blue (23 page)

“I know, you’re right,” he said sheepishly.

“But keep a sharp lookout because it only takes one bullet to ruin a perfectly good day.”

“You could’ve stopped with raising families in peace.”

As they headed to the building on foot they passed men and women huddled in tight pockets on low brick walls, sitting on dilapidated playground furniture, or else standing inside darkened crannies of the building’s overhang. All these folks stared at the pair as they made their way to the entrance. Mace kept a brisk pace, though her gaze scanned out by grids, probing gingerly into the shadowy edges before pulling back. As Roy watched her it was like she was using antennae to sense potential threats.

“Okay, are we in imminent danger of dying?” he asked.

“You get that just by waking up every day.”

“Thanks for being optimistic.”

“Reefer, crack, H, Cheerios, meth, Oxy,” recited Mace as they marched along.

“I can smell the pot, but the other stuff?”

Mace pointed to the ground where there were remnants of plastic baggies, elastic straps, snort straws, bits of paper, crushed prescription pill bottles, and even broken syringes. “It’s all right there if you know what you’re looking for. Which apartment does Alisha live in?”

“File said 320.”

They walked inside and the smell of pot, urine, raw garbage, and feces hit them like a wrecking ball. In a low voice Mace said, “Don’t even wrinkle your nose, Roy, we got eyes all around the clock face. No disrespect. Can’t afford it.”

They marched on while Roy’s gut churned and his nose twitched.

“Elevator or stairs?” he said.

“I doubt the elevator works. And I don’t like being locked in little places where I don’t know who’ll be waiting for me when the doors open.”

“Taking the stairs will probably be dicey too.”

“No probably about it. It
will
be dicey.”

She opened the door to the stairs, pushing it all the way against the wall in case someone was lurking there. Her gaze moved up, to the next landing.

“Clear, let’s hit it.”

“What if somebody stops us?”

“Getting jumpy on me?”

“Actually it’s been a real struggle keeping my underwear clean since we left the car.”

“I know you’re the lawyer, but if someone stops us let me do the talking.”

“I have no problem with that.”

“One thing, though, can you fight?”

“With words or fists?”

“Look around, this is not the Supreme Court.”

“Yeah, I can. My Marine brother used to kick my ass on a regular basis until I grew six inches in one summer and started holding my own. Then he taught me the tricks of the trade.”

“Marines are good at that. Might come in handy. Last time I was here I was wearing my badge and I barely got out alive.”

“Thanks for telling me,” muttered Roy.

They reached the third floor and found their way blocked by two enormous men in prison shuffle jeans with the waistbands down to the bottom of their butt cheeks and sporting short-sleeved shirts showing muscular arms so tattooed there was no bare skin left. When they tried to walk around them, the men moved with them, forming a wall that stretched right across the narrow hall. Mace took a step back, her hand sliding to her pocket even as she smiled.

“We’re looking for Alisha Rogers. Do you know her?”

The men simply stared back without answering. One bumped shoulders with Roy, knocking him back against the wall.

Mace said, “Alisha knows we’re coming. We’re here to help her.”

“She ain’t need no help,” said one of the men. He was bald with a neck so thick it seemed like a continuation of his bull-like trap muscles. From down the hall there came the sounds of screaming, the slamming of a door, and then what sounded like shots. An instant later, music started blaring from multiple sources and the screams and shots could no longer be heard.

“So you
do
know her?” Mace continued in a pleasant tone.

“What if I do?”

“There could be some money in it for her too.”

“How much money?”

“Depends on how well our meeting goes. And no, we didn’t bring the cash with us,” added Mace as she spotted one of the guys’ hands flit behind his back.

“Who you from?” asked Baldy.

“Social!” said a loud voice. They all turned to see a woman nearly as wide as she was tall marching up to them. She was dressed in a long jean dress stretched to its absolute maximum. A colorful scarf was wound around her head and her long toes poked out from the sandals she wore.

“You know them?” said Baldy.

The scarf lady clutched Mace’s hand. “Damn right I do. Now get your sorry asses out the way right now! I am not messing with you today, Jerome, and I mean what I say.”

The men moved quietly if grudgingly aside and scarf lady led Mace down the hall while Roy scurried after them, his gaze back on Jerome.

“Thanks,” said Mace.

“Thanks doesn’t come close to cutting it,” Roy chimed in.

“Alisha told me Carmela called a little bit ago and she asked me to be on the lookout for you. But I was taking some laundry down and you got past me. Sorry about those jerks. Barks worse than their bite, but they still bite.”

“Were those shots we heard a minute ago?” Roy wanted to know.

“Just a little disagreement probably. No blood no foul.”

“What’s your name?” Mace asked.

“Just call me Non.”

Non had a key to the apartment and had let them in.

“Alisha!” she called out. “Social’s here.”

There were footsteps in the other room, a door opened, and Alisha Rogers stepped out. A three-year-old boy was riding on her slim right hip. Her hair was long and pulled back and tied with a clip except for a tightly braided ponytail that poked out on the right side of her head. Her eyes were big, her face small, and her lips thin and cracked. At five-three she probably didn’t weigh more than ninety pounds, while the little boy had to be almost half that.

Roy looked down at the file he was holding documenting Alisha’s background. Roy had seen enough while at CJA that teenage mothers did not really surprise him, though he also knew that a child raising a child was never a good thing. Yet it was far better than leaving the little boy in a Dumpster. He had to admire Alisha Rogers for taking that responsibility when some others didn’t.

Non said, “I’m gonna leave you folks to it. Alisha, you need anything I’ll be down in the laundry room.”

“Thanks, Non,” Alisha said, her gaze on the floor as the boy stared at Mace and Roy openmouthed.

Mace stepped forward. “Alisha, I’m Mace and this is Roy. We met with Carmela this morning.”

Gaze still on the floor, Alisha said, “Carmela’s nice.”

“And she was very excited about us meeting with you.”

“That’s a good-looking boy you have there,” said Roy. “What’s his name?”

“Tyler,” she answered. She lifted one of her son’s pudgy fists and did a small wave. When she let go, however, Tyler let his arm drop limply to his side and continued to stare at them, his mouth forming a big O.

“You want to sit down while we talk?” said Mace. “Tyler looks like a load.”

While Roy and Mace sat on a small battered sofa with trash-bag-covered foam, Alisha put Tyler down on the floor and sat cross-legged next to him. She snagged a toy out of the Deer Park box and handed it to him.

“You play, Ty, Momma’s got to talk to these people.”

Tyler plopped down on the floor and obediently started playing with the spaceman action figure from
Toy Story
that was missing an arm and a leg.

Alisha looked up. “Carmela say you folks got something for me.”

“To be part of a study,” said Mace.

Alisha didn’t look happy about this. “I thought it gonna be a job. A real job, you know, with child care and some health benefits.”

“No, that’s right. The study does have a money and training component.”

“How ’bout school?”

“And an education component too. That’s considered critical, in fact.”

“Ain’t got my GED. Dropped out to have Tyler. Went back but couldn’t make it work.”

“We can help with that. You still want to get your GED?” asked Mace.

“Got to if I want to get out of here. Here’s just drugs or Mickey D’s if I ain’t got no school. Can’t take care of Ty good.” She reached out and stroked Tyler’s wiry hair.

As Mace looked at the little boy’s face it struck her that she recognized his features, but couldn’t remember from where. “Let’s go over the details and we’ll see if it’s something you’re interested in.”

“I’m interested in anything that’ll get us outta here.”

“You and Tyler, you mean.”

“And my brother.”

“Your brother?” Mace said questioningly. That had not been in the report.

“He just got back.”

“From where?”

“Prison.”

“Okay. How about Tyler’s dad?”

She hesitated, her gaze darting to the floor.

Mace had seen that same maneuver a million times. The lady was about to lie.

“Dead probably. I don’t know. He ain’t here, that’s all.”

“How about your parents?” asked Roy.

“My daddy’s dead. He sold heroin on the corner a block over from here. My momma left me with my grandma.”

“Why did your mother leave you?” Roy asked.

“Had to. She in prison for killing my daddy.”

“Oh,” said Roy.

“Ain’t like he didn’t deserve it,” she said defensively. “He beat her bad all the time.”

“And your grandmother?” asked Mace.

Alisha’s big eyes became watery. “Drive-by. She just walking down the street with her groceries and got caught between two damn crews. But she got to see Ty born. He got to see his great-grandma.”

“That’s pretty rare,” said Roy. “Four generations.”

“She was only forty-nine when she got killed. My momma was thirteen too when she had me.”

Mace was about to ask another question when the door to the apartment opened. When Mace saw who it was she realized where she’d seen Tyler’s facial features before.

“What the hell you doing here, bitch?” the man at the door screamed.

Darren Rogers, a.k.a. Razor, the guy Mace had pepper-sprayed, stood in the doorway. A moment later the “crappy” semi-auto pistol was pointed right at her face.

“Well, in all fairness, I wouldn’t have if you weren’t pointing a gun at me.”

Alisha stared at him. “Did you do that?”

“Hell no. The bitch just shot me with the shit while I was walking by. I never pulled no gun on her ass till right now.”

Mace turned to Alisha. “He’s also got a .22 caliber revolver in a left ankle holster. And his street name is Razor ’cause, as he told me, he’s so sharp.”

Alisha put her hands on her hips and scowled at Darren. “How she know all that if you just walking by and ain’t pulled your damn gun?”

Darren’s face screwed up in frustration. “How I supposed to know that?”

Mace turned to Alisha. “Is he your brother?”

“Hey, you talk to
me
,” snapped Darren.

“Okay, are you her brother?”

“Yeah, so what?”

“What were you in prison for?”

“Who told you I was in prison?” Darren glanced darkly at his sister.

She said, “Darren, put that gun away before somebody gets hurt. Look at Ty, he’s scared to death.”

Unnoticed for the last couple of minutes, Tyler had crawled into a corner and tears were dribbling down his chubby cheeks. He was holding up his spaceman, apparently as a shield. Darren’s hostile look instantly melted away. “Ah hell, Ty, I’m sorry, little man.” He put the gun in his jacket pocket and hustled over to pick up the child. He held his cheek against Tyler’s and talked softly to the little boy.

“He’s not crying,” said Roy curiously.

Alisha started to answer but Darren beat her to it. “He ain’t crying, ’cause he can’t talk. Can’t make no sounds or nothing.”

Mace looked at Alisha. “Have you had him checked out?”

Tears again filled Alisha’s eyes. “It was ’cause I doing drugs. Ain’t even know I was pregnant. Doctors say that messed up something in Ty’s head.”

“I’m sorry,” said Mace.

Alisha rubbed her eyes. “My damn fault for getting pregnant.”

“You got
raped
, Alisha,” snapped Darren. “This ain’t nothing you did.”

“Raped? Did they catch who did it?” asked Roy.

Darren eyed his sister and then looked away in disgust.

“Alisha?” said Mace. “Did you report the rape?”

She shook her head.

“Why not?”

Darren spoke up. “’Cause the dude what raped her is named Psycho. He got the biggest crew around here. You go to the cops on him, you be dead. That’s why!”

Mace sat back. “I know about Psycho. The guy’s been running his drug and gun op for nearly ten years. That’s a lifetime in that line of work. You’ve got to be real smart and even more dangerous to last that long.”

“But the police can protect you,” said Roy. He glanced at Mace. “Can’t they?”

Darren laughed. “Oh yeah. Sure they can. See, last time the police protected somebody ’round here against Psycho they found his head in a trash bag floating in the Anacostia with a sock stuffed in the mouth. They ain’t never found the rest of him. That’s some damn fine protection, now ain’t it?”

Darren put Tyler down on the floor. “So you tell me what the hell you doing here?”

“How about a chance to get out of here,” said Mace.

“Outta here how?”

“I’m working on a project with a professor from Georgetown.”

“Georgetown! What the hell that got to do with us?”

“I can explain it to you.”

Darren looked like he was about to start shouting again, but then he sat down and motioned at her. “Go on then. Tell me.”

Mace spent the next thirty minutes doing just that, filling in the basics first and then building on that. “The professor’s theory is that to survive on the streets of virtually any large city requires exemplary intelligence, nerve, daring, risk-taking, and the ability to adapt on the fly. Most people require familial support, a bed, a roof, some food, and relief from danger to function properly.”

Darren looked sullen. “Ain’t that bad ’round here. Do what you got to do. We
got
a roof over our heads now. Food to eat. And she
got
family now. And ain’t nobody coming in that door unless they go through me first.”

“But it’s not a normal life, Darren,” pointed out Mace. “You can’t reach your potential if you’re always worried about becoming homeless or not having enough food to eat, or waiting for somebody to put a bullet in your head.”

“I can take care of myself.”

Mace turned to Alisha. “You were selected from the files at Social.”

“Why me?”

“You’ve managed to support a special needs child while getting off drugs and after losing both parents. You currently hold down four part-time jobs while getting Tyler’s basic health care needs taken care of out of sheer persistence and more than a dash of ingenuity. And you did all this while just having celebrated your sixteenth birthday. I’d say that was pretty special.” Mace looked around the tiny apartment. “And you got this place using forged documents that showed you were eighteen and could legally sign a contract.”

Alisha looked frightened. “I had to. After my grandma got killed folks came and took her apartment, kicked us out. After that we was living in a box in an alley off Bladensburg Road. Ain’t no place for a child. And Darren was gone.”

Darren took her hand. “But I’m back now, baby sister. I take care of you and Ty.”

Mace looked over at Darren. She really didn’t know what to do with him. “You can’t take care of them by robbing people. You’ll be right back in prison. Last night if I’d been a cop, you already would be.”

Darren whirled on her. “You just get the hell out of here.”

“When you go back to prison what happens to Alisha and Tyler? Psycho can come right through that door. Then what?”

Darren started to say something but then just stared at the floor.

Mace said, “So there it is, Alisha. That’s the offer.”

“You trust this professor dude?” said Darren suddenly.

“Yes I do. And he really cares.”

“Why the hell he want to help folks like us?”

Choosing her words carefully, she said, “It’s like he’s building his own crew.”

The angry look faded from Darren’s face. “So he be the boss then?”

“Just until you can be your own boss,” Mace replied.

Darren looked at his sister. “This shit sounds too good to be true. What next, some fat guy running in here waving a big-ass check with a bunch of balloons?”

Mace said, “Darren, just to be clear, we didn’t know you were in the picture. I don’t know if the offer extends to you or not.”

Alisha stood. “I ain’t gonna do nothing without Darren coming too.”

“Hold on, hold on, girl,” said Darren quickly. “We got to think this through.”

Mace stood. Roy did too. She said, “You don’t have to make up your mind now. It’s your choice. We have other appointments to get to.”

Darren eyed her warily. “So if Alisha says no, then he just gets somebody else?”

“That’s the plan, yeah. There are ten to start with.”

Alisha said quickly, “When do he got to know?”

“A week.”

Alisha started to say something but Darren turned to Mace. “You tell your boss that Alisha’s gonna do it.”

“With you along, you mean? I’ll have to check on that.”

“No. He ain’t got to worry about me. Just Alish and Ty.”

“Darren!” cried Alisha. “You ain’t know what you saying.”

Darren turned to her. “I take care of myself. Always have.”

“But you ain’t got nobody. The jerks in this building be jumping you already.”

“I said I can take care of myself.”

“But Darren—”

He turned back to Mace. “You tell the man that Alisha be part of his crew. And Ty too. That’s it, no more talking.”

“Okay.” Mace looked over at Tyler, who was watching all of this from the corner. For the first time in a long time, Mace actually felt a lump in her throat. “They have some great doctors at G-town. They can take a look at your son.”

Alisha nodded. “Okay,” she said in a low voice.

Mace turned back to Darren. “I thought I had you figured out. But I was wrong. And I’m almost never wrong about stuff like that.”

“You listen up, anything bad happens to Alisha or Ty, you got me to deal with.” He went into the bedroom and closed the door.

Roy and Mace left the apartment. They hadn’t gone ten feet when Non ran up to them, looking scared.

“You two got to get outta here right now!”

“What’s up, Non?” asked Mace. “Is Jerome on the warpath?”

“I wish it just be him. Psycho found out you were talking to Alisha. He’s coming over here. I think he believes you’re the Five-oh and Alisha told you stuff.”

“Will he try to hurt her?” Mace said quickly.

“I don’t know. But that man is bad news all around.”

Mace grabbed Roy’s arm. “Come on, this way.”

She led him down the hall to a different set of stairs. They fled down them, passing pill poppers, syringe stickers, and one guy fornicating with his lady while smoking a joint.

“What about Alisha and Ty?” asked Roy worriedly.

“I’m trying to call Beth, only I can’t get a damn signal in here.”

They reached the ground floor, ripped open the door, raced down a short stretch of hall, and then ran outside. And stopped.

A dozen men stood there. One of them, the tallest, stepped forward. He had a big smile and his eyes had the look of a man who was used to telling people what to do.

Roy looked at Mace. “Please tell me that’s not Psycho.”

Mace didn’t answer. She just kept her eyes right on the guy coming at them.