Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2) (3 page)

C
lint glanced in the rearview mirror. Brianna was stretched out across the backseat, still knocked out cold, her head resting in Leon’s lap. Leon was alternately snoring and smacking his lips.

The grab had worked precisely according to plan. Clint just hoped it wouldn’t take too long to break in Little Miss Brianna. The girl looked like she had a lot of fight in her.

He punched a button on his cell.

“We should have her on lockdown in a few,” Clint said into the phone. “This one’s real fresh, man. Got them light eyes. She’s gonna bring in some long dough.”

He barked several instructions, then hung up.

Clint was relieved that everything had gone so well. You never knew what could happen when you were snatching a girl in broad daylight. So far, the Facebook scam was working like a charm. His boss was a genius.

Clint smiled to himself. “Mo’ money, mo’ money, mo’ money.”

Leon yawned from the backseat. “How far away are we?”

“A long way,” Clint said. “Just shut up.”

Leon ran a hand over Brianna’s rear end. “This girl is bangin’.”

“Don’t mess with the merchandise,” Clint snapped, eyeing him in the rearview mirror.

“I’m just sayin’.” He stroked Brianna’s face.

A phone began to ring. Leon looked around, then realized the sound was coming from Brianna’s backpack.

“Don’t answer it!” Clint shouted. “Give it here.”

Leon pulled the iPhone from an outside pocket on the backpack and tossed it to Clint. The caller ID read
Uncle Dre.
He turned it off, then placed it on the console between the seats.

“I’m hungry,” Leon complained. “We need to hit a drive-thru.”

“We ain’t stoppin’. I ain’t about to risk nobody seeing that girl tied up in the backseat.”

Clint shook his head. His cousin was such a screw-up. But what did he expect from a crack head? His boss would have a big problem with Clint having brought someone into the operation without his personal approval. Hopefully, he would never find out. This was the second and last time he planned to use Leon. His regular cohort, Darnell, had to make a run to Oakland to pick up some new girls. Clint didn’t want to reschedule “Jaden’s” hookup with Brianna. Leon had worked out okay on a last-minute grab a couple of weeks ago in Inglewood. So Clint had called on him again.

It took close to an hour in rush-hour traffic before the SUV exited the Harbor Freeway at Gage. Clint drove a few more miles and slowed when he reached a yellow house that was little more than a shack. Except for a group of boys strolling along the sidewalk, the street was empty. Clint hit a button opening the electronic gates, then steered the Escalade down a short driveway and parked on the grass behind the house.

Leon hopped out first, followed by Clint. Leon bounced on his tip toes as Clint pulled a money clip from his front pocket and peeled off fifty bucks.

“You can go now.” Clint shoved the money into Leon’s hands.

“Thanks, cuz!” Leon gazed excitedly at the bills. “When you gonna need me again?”

Never.
“I’ll let you know. Just make sure you keep your big mouth shut.”

Leon was already trotting back down the driveway. Clint knew exactly where he was headed. To get high at one of three neighborhood crack houses.

After first opening the back door to the house, Clint easily collected Brianna’s limp body from the backseat and hurled her over his shoulder.

The house was stuffy and night-time dark, even though it was still morning. Every windowpane in the place had been painted black. He flicked on a light switch in the kitchen and marched down a narrow hallway. He stopped outside the second bedroom on the west side of the house. Using a single key, he unlocked the three deadbolts on the door.

Inside, a low-watt bulb hanging from the ceiling provided minimal light. A naked girl with wild blonde hair sat huddled in a corner hugging her knees to her chest. Her face was clear and smooth, but her chest, arms and legs bore red, black and blue markings that stood out against her white skin. The filthy mattress where she sat was the only piece of furniture in the room.

“I brought you some company,” Clint announced. He dumped Brianna on the mattress next to the frail girl.

“If you’re ready to act like you got some sense, I’ll bring you something to eat.”

The girl, who looked to be close to Brianna’s age, didn’t respond.

“Well?” Clint said.

“Yes,” she mumbled. “I want something to eat.”

“Okay then. You better get with the program. Next time, just do what I tell you or I’ma beat your ass again.”

He pointed toward Brianna.

“When the new girl wakes up, you tell her the deal. Let her know that if she plays along, everything’ll be fine. But if she plans on being hard headed like you, life is gonna be rough.”

A
ngela and Candace sat facing each other in a booth at the California Pizza Kitchen in the downtown Wells Fargo complex. Angela mindlessly stabbed her Cobb salad with a fork. Candace ignored her Thai chicken pizza. They hadn’t exchanged a word in over ten minutes.

Diane Morris slid into the booth as Candace moved over to make room for her.

“I tried like hell,” Diane said in a breathless rush, “but I couldn’t get to court in time.”

Diane was Shenae’s social worker. She wore her hair in long braids and had a fondness for African clothes and jewelry. The three women had bonded over their efforts to help Shenae and several other young trafficking victims.

Diane turned from Angela to Candace.

“Uh-oh. Based on your dreary faces, I guess things didn’t go well in court this morning. How’d she do?”

Angela forced a smile. “After a short meltdown, Shenae actually did great. Even when Melvin’s attorney tried to attack her on cross, she didn’t back down.”

“Okay, then,” Diane said, treading lightly, “Why do you two look so sad? The jury didn’t believe her?”

“They believed her,” Candace said. “They came back with a guilty verdict in just over an hour.”

“Then why the doom and gloom? We should be celebrating. There’s one more pimp off the street.”

“Let’s see,” Angela said, laying down her fork, “let me give you three reasons
not
to celebrate. One, Melvin will probably be out of jail in about nine months or less exploiting a whole new stable of girls. Two, one of Melvin’s homeboys told Shenae outside the courtroom that he was going to kick her ass for
lying on the witness stand
. And three, Shenae’s social worker just called to give us the news that she’s got syphilis.”

Diane propped an elbow on the table and cupped her forehead. The table fell silent again.

“And just for good measure,” Angela said, “I’ll throw in a fourth reason: I have another dozen clients just like Shenae.”

Candace swung her head from side to side.

“Even when we win, it feels like we’ve lost,” Angela muttered.

Diane was always one to look for the bright side. “The tide is changing,” she said. “The criminal justice system is finally waking up. Every other week I read something in the newspaper or see something on TV about human trafficking. What we do is important.”

“I know it’s important,” Angela said. “I just wish it wasn’t so heart wrenching.”

“I say we change the subject,” Candace proposed.

Diane smiled. “I second that.”

“I have a date with Dre tonight,” Angela blurted out. She stuffed a forkful of salad into her mouth and started chewing so she wouldn’t have to speak.

Her two friends didn’t utter a word.

“Go ahead,” Angela prodded. “Say what you have to say.”

Diane was never one to hold her tongue. “So you guys are getting back together?”

“I never said that.” Angela paused. “But what if we were?”

Diane picked up the menu and started studying it. “I guess that’s your business.”

“You guys went through a lot,” Candace said gently. “Just make sure his past is really in the past before you get involved with him again.”

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll be sure to do that.”

“Girl, don’t give us attitude,” Diane said, lowering the menu. “We’re just looking out for you.”

Angela finally smiled. “I know.”

Andre “Dre” Thomas had been there at a time when Angela had needed him most. If he hadn’t stepped in to protect her, she might not be alive today. The media attention surrounding the stalking situation with her ex, as well as a case that had spiraled out of her control, prompted Angela to resign from her job as a federal prosecutor. For the time being, she was handling the defense practice of a friend who had to leave town to tend to her dying mother. Angela would figure out her next career move later.

Learning of Dre’s drug-dealing past had been a blow that still left Angela reeling with uncertainty. For months, she had hoped her feelings for him would fade. They had not. There was far more than a physical attraction between them. Dre made her feel safe, strong and worthy.

Truth be told, Angela didn’t just want Dre Thomas back in her life. She needed him in her world.

B
rianna’s eyes fluttered open and she took in the unfamiliar surroundings. The room was close in size to her own bedroom, but that was the only similarity. She was lying on a bare, damp mattress. A strong, putrid smell made her want to puke. The dirty gray walls and faint lighting reminded her of a horror movie.

She tried to lift her head, but she was so woozy, her first attempt failed. Gripping the edge of the mattress, she finally managed to sit up.

“Are you, okay?”

Brianna jumped at the sound of the soft voice behind her. She looked over her shoulder at the naked white girl sharing the mattress with her. Her sad eyes were bleary and her hair looked as if she’d just run through a wind tunnel.

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know.” The girl started to whimper.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Where are your clothes?”

“They took ’em. They’re gonna take yours too.”

“Who?”

The girl hugged her knees and sniveled. “I don’t know.”

“What’s your name?”

“Kaylee.”

“How long have you been here?”

The girl began to rock. “I don’t know. It seems like a long time though.”

This didn’t make any sense. “Where do you live?”

“In Oakland.”

“Oakland? That’s a long way from here,” Brianna said, although she didn’t know where
here
was. “This is L.A. How did you get here?”

“I met this guy named Jaden on Facebook. I told him how my foster mother beat me for talking back. So Jaden said I could come live with him and his brother. He was supposed to pick me up in downtown Oakland. But when I walked up to the car, a man grabbed me and put a nasty-smelling rag over my mouth. When I woke up, I was in a room with a bunch of other girls.”

Brianna gasped.

“They brought you all the way here from Oakland?”

“Not at first. They kept me there for a while.”

“You need to call somebody to come get you.”

“Like who? Don’t nobody care about me. And anyway, if I did have somebody to call, they wouldn’t let me. They not gonna let you either. This is like a prison.”

“I’m getting out of here!”

Brianna crawled across the mattress toward the wall and struggled to get to her feet. To keep her balance, she palmed the wall until she made it to the door. But there was no doorknob. Just a hole where a doorknob should have been. She pounded on the door with both fists.

Kaylee ran over and tugged on her arm. “Stop it! You can’t do that! They’re gonna beat you just like they beat me.”

Brianna eyed the bruises all over the girl’s body. She pointed in distress at a red splotch of skin just below Kaylee’s collarbone. It looked as if she’d been burned.

“What happened to you?”

Kaylee’s eyes followed Brianna’s. “It’s a tattoo. They put it on all the girls. They’re gonna do the same thing to you too.”

“No they’re not!” Brianna cried. “Where’s Jaden? Does he know these men?”

“You so stupid! There ain’t no Jaden. They tricked you just like they tricked me.”

“What? What are you talking about? Why would they do that?”

The girl buried her face in her hands and fell back onto the mattress.

Brianna kneeled next to her. “What’s going on?” Brianna shouted. “Tell me!”

“They gonna make us have sex with men,” the girl blurted out. “For money. That’s what they made me do in Oakland and now they gonna make me do it down here!”

“What are you talking about? They can’t do that.”

“Yes, they can.” The girl rocked back and forth as she cried. “They already have. A real nasty-looking man tried to have sex with me yesterday and I scratched him. That’s why they beat me and threw me in here. We have to do what they say!”

“I’m not doing that!” Brianna cried, her anger squashing her fear. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“You don’t have a choice. They’ll kill you if you don’t.”

“Yes, I do have a choice!”

Parallel tears rolled down Brianna’s cheeks as she tried to comprehend what was happening to her. She was still a virgin and proud of it. She wasn’t having sex with anybody. This had to be some kind of sick joke.

“I’m not staying here,” Brianna declared through her tears. “My Uncle Dre’s coming to get me. You just wait and see.”

D
re stared across the table at Angela, an eager smile stretched across his lips. From the second he’d knocked on her door at exactly seven that evening, he’d been trying to tamp down his excitement. Unfortunately, he couldn’t help himself.

He could tell by her furtive glances around the restaurant that Angela was impressed with his selection. Café Del Rey had a chic, relaxed vibe and the added plus of being able to gaze out at the boats docked along the marina.

“It’s good seeing you again,” he said, taking a sip of his Pepsi.

She was still as fine as ever. Dre liked her pert nose and natural spiral curls. Her low-cut coral sweater matched the color of the blush that highlighted her cheekbones.

“Same here.”

Angela’s words came out flat, nonchalant. But then she cocked her head and smiled with those lips. Those full, soft lips that he hadn’t been able to kiss for three months.

Dre had started to believe that Angela didn’t intend to see him again. Ever. But his heart knew better. Despite all the drama that had gone down, there was still something special between them.

“So how’s the law business?”

Angela tinkered with her napkin. “I’m handling a lot of juvenile cases now,” she said. “It’s kind of depressing at times. What about you? How’s
your
business?”

Dre stiffened and palmed his glass with both hands. That was a dig. The kind of dig black women knew how to fire off with the skill of a sharpshooter.

“You know I’m not about that anymore.” He smiled so the hurt wouldn’t show on his face. But the edge in his voice gave him away. “I quit dealing before we broke up.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

Dre turned away and gazed around the restaurant. It hadn’t been like this before. Bland conversation, long gaps of silence, the air so thick with tension you could hardly stand to breathe it. He should just ask for the bill and take her prissy ass home. Only Dre didn’t want to take her home.

“So what kind of juvenile cases are you handling?”

“Most of my clients are minors charged with soliciting prostitution.”

“Any dude who’d mess with a child is sick.”

“Absolutely. These girls are victims, but they’re treated like criminals. The johns only get a slap on the wrist and the pimps rarely get prosecuted because the girls are too afraid to testify against them. But one of my girls did really well in court today. I’m proud of her.”

Dre’s smartphone vibrated. He ignored it.

A waitress with bright-pink lips and matching nail polish walked up to the table. “How are you guys doing tonight? Have you had a chance to peruse the menu?”

They both listened as the woman recited the specials. Dre ordered chicken piccata. Angela chose the grilled tilapia.

“How’s your son?” Angela asked.

Dre beamed. “Growing up way too fast.” He pulled his smartphone from his pocket and showed her a picture. “This is Little Dre and my niece, Brianna.”

“Wow,” Angela said. “Both of them look just like you. She has your hazel eyes.”

“Yep. She’s more like my daughter than my niece. Smart as a whip too. She wants to be a lawyer. Maybe I can bring her down to your office and you can talk to her sometime.”

“Sure.”

He swiped through a few more pictures.

“Who’s that?” Angela pointed to a woman pictured with Dre and Brianna.

Dre smiled. “That’s my sister, Donna. I’m taking them all to a Lakers’ game next week. Why don’t you—”

The smartphone vibrated again. This time, he read the screen, then placed it face down on the table.

“My sister, Donna,” he explained with a shrug. “She can wait.”

Angela arched a brow and gave him a
yeah-sure-it’s-your-sister
smile.

Dre frowned. “You don’t believe me?”

Angela responded with a hunch of her shoulders.

“I’ve never lied to you.”

Angela chuckled. “Depends on whether we’re talking about a straight-out lie or a lie by omission. Like your never telling me you were a drug dealer.”

“An ex-drug dealer,” Dre corrected her. “And I did plan to tell you.”

He scratched his jaw. He didn’t like being judged.

“If you’re still trippin’ about everything that went down, then why’d you come tonight?”

Angela waited a long beat. “Because I missed you.”

Dre smiled at the first green light of the evening and exhaled the anxiety right out of his body. He leaned in over the table. “Angela, I—”

The loud vibration of his smartphone cut him off a second time.

He grimaced. “My sister’s a drama queen. Whatever she wants can wait.”

“Sure it’s your sister.” Angela clasped her hands and set them on the table. “Guess I’m not the only woman who misses you.”

“I’m not seeing anybody. I haven’t been with anybody since you.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s the truth.”

Angela propped her right elbow on the table and extended her palm. “If that’s really your sister, then let
me
return her call.”

Dre briefly looked away.

He had babes jockin’ him every day of the week. He didn’t have to take this crap. Still, he turned back to her, picked up his smartphone and placed it in her outstretched hand.

“Go ’head. Knock yourself out.”

Angela redialed the last incoming number.

As she raised the smartphone to her ear. Dre locked his arms across his chest and leaned back in his chair.

“I’m a friend of Dre’s,” she said, her eyes on him. “He asked me to return your call.”

Dre’s lips angled into a smug smile as he waited for her doubt to fade. But in seconds, Angela’s expression went from skeptical to distressed. Her eyebrows fused into a single line and when she pressed the palm of her free hand flat against her chest, Dre sprang forward.

Knowing Donna, she might think it was funny to pretend that she was his woman, not his sister. If she did that, he’d never get Angela to trust him again.

“Hold up. What’s she saying?”

Angela raised her hand, quieting him.

Dre waited a few more seconds, but couldn’t take it. As he reached across the table, ready to take the phone, Angela thrust it into his hand.

“You better talk to your sister.” Angela’s voice echoed the same level of panic that now filled her eyes. “Brianna didn’t show up at school today and nobody can find her.”