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Authors: J.P. Bowie

Tags: #General Fiction

A Portrait of Emily (24 page)

BOOK: A Portrait of Emily
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“Well, take it easy my friend. We’ll find Thomson, don’t worry.”

An hour later, the call he was waiting for came through on his cell phone.

“Mr. Stevens?” The oily voice made Jeff shudder despite himself.

“You got him.”

“You will be at the Pembroke on Orchard in Costa Mesa, room two twenty-two, at exactly seven o’clock tonight. You will give the fifteen hundred dollars to the man who brings you what you have asked for. You will be left alone for exactly one hour then he will return and reclaim the gift. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

The line went dead and Jeff sat for a long moment looking at his phone. So, it had begun. No turning back now. He dialed McKenna’s number to give him the details of the meeting place and time.

“Right, here’s what we’re going to do,” McKenna said smoothly. “You show up as arranged, give him the money, and take the girl into the room. We’ll have our man take photos of the transfer and we’ll make the arrest as the pimp leaves.”

“What happens to the kid?” Jeff asked.

“We’ll find out where she lives and make sure her parents or guardians are contacted so they can come get her. We’ll have a woman police officer and someone from Child Services there to help her. Don’t worry, she’ll be okay. With any luck, we’ll get enough information to put this one out of business permanently.”

“I sure hope so,” Jeff said. “
And
get a lead on the Hastings murder.”

“That too. Okay, Stevens. Just do your bit and it should go down real smooth.”

§ § § §

Anthony was pleased his mother had agreed to visit her sister for a few days. He’d been surprised when she had insisted on making the arrangements for that very day. He called the airline and made a reservation for a flight leaving late afternoon. He needed time away from her too. There was not much more he could do for her. She needed someone new on whom to vent her anger and frustration, and her sister might be able to talk some sense into her. After all, she had to know the story, or at least part of it.

He was looking forward to his much delayed date with Justin. He frowned as he remembered the conversation with Jeff. Surely there was no possible danger in going to LA tonight? It was just speculation on Jeff’s part after all. There was no proof that Joey’s ex boyfriend had anything to do with the murder, and if he had he would probably be long gone from LA. Besides, like he’d told Jeff, he could handle himself in a fight. Military school had taught him the art of self defense and he was good at it. He’d be fine. Nothing to worry about.

“Are you ready, Anthony?” His mother stood in the doorway of his bedroom, suitcase in hand.

“Yes.” He picked up his leather jacket. “You look nice, Mother.”

Patricia smiled demurely under her son’s flattery. He took her case and carried it downstairs to the car. Taking her to the airport in LA worked out well with his plans for the evening. He didn’t know if Justin would ask him to stay over. He kind of hoped he would, but if not, he could wait.

“You seem preoccupied dear,” Patricia said as they drove away from the house.

“Do I? Just thinking that so much has happened in the last few days I guess.”

“I’m not sorry to leave it all behind for a while. Ever since I told her Charles was murdered, your Aunt Harriet has been in disbelief over the horrors I’ve been continually subjected to.”

Anthony grimaced, wondering what version of the story his mother had told her sister. Whichever one, he knew Emily would not come out of it well. He had given up trying to make his mother be reasonable and recant the accusations she had made against her daughter. She had deluded herself for so many years she was not about to face the truth now. He glanced at her as she sat looking straight ahead, her face composed and serene, as if not one event of the past few days had affected her in any way.

“What will you do with yourself while I’m gone?” she asked.

“See a few friends, go to a movie—look for a job. Not necessarily in that order.”

“What kind of job?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking of a career in law. I’ve talked to Johnny and he was pretty encouraging, so I thought I’d enroll in a law school next semester and go from there.”

“But that will take you away from home again.”

“Not necessarily. We’ll talk about that when you get back. Right now, forget about everything and relax with Aunt Harriet.”

For the rest of the ride she was quiet, and Anthony let her be lost in her own thoughts, bizarre though they might be.

Forty minutes later he was watching her pass through the Security gates at the airport, and he breathed a sigh of relief as he waved her goodbye. He still had plenty of time to get to the restaurant in West Hollywood that Justin had chosen for their first date. As he drove north on the freeway, he experienced a subtle thrill in the pit of his stomach as he realized just how much he was looking forward to this evening. Justin’s blond good looks and ready smile had reminded him of Mark. He had immediately felt at ease with this stranger as they talked in the bar, and each time they had spoken on the phone he had felt the rapport between them deepen.

Of course, it was early days yet, and there was so much to find out. All he really knew about the man was that he worked for a publicity agency, that he was easy to talk to—and smokin’ hot. As he pulled into the restaurant parking lot, he saw Justin getting out of his car. Anthony beeped his horn as he pulled in alongside him.

“Great timing,” Justin laughed, taking Anthony’s hand in a strong grip. Anthony grinned at him, delighted that his memory had not played tricks. Justin was every bit as hot as he remembered, and Anthony felt himself get hard under that warm smile.

“Are you hungry?” Justin guided him to the restaurant door, a hand on Anthony’s shoulder.

“Always,” Anthony replied.

“You’ll like this place. The chef’s a friend of mine from high school.”

“Great.”

They were seated immediately and after the waiter had left with their wine order, Justin said, “I’m so glad we finally got to do this.”

“Me too. It’s the one bright spot in a bitch of a week.”

Anthony had clued Justin in on some of the events over the phone and Justin’s concern for Anthony’s well being was evident as he listened to his new friend recount his mother’s strange behavior toward her daughters. If he thought Anthony’s family sounded somewhat bizarre, he did not mention it. He simply listened attentively as Anthony poured out his heart. At one point, he gently rubbed Anthony’s wrist with his fingertips as if to comfort him and Anthony was thrilled at the intimate contact.

“Jeez,” he said as he sipped his glass of wine. “I’ve done nothing but bend your ear about my family since we sat down. I’ll shut up now so you can tell me about you.”

Justin chuckled. “Hey, compared to you, I’m a boring fella. Nothing much going on in my family, at least, not that I know of. My dad died two years ago—cancer.” He paused for a moment. “That was rough,” he continued, clearing his throat. “Mom lives in Pasadena and my sister—she’s married with two kids. She lives in Oakland. Her husband’s an architect for the city. That’s it.”

“Are you close to your family?”

“Very. Mom and I talk all the time on the phone. I told her I had a date tonight and she already wants to meet you. She’s just started seeing an old school boyfriend. His wife died a few years ago. She was real happy I had a date.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’ve been out to my family since I was a kid. Mom always wants to hear what’s going on in my life—‘course, I give her the censored version,” he added, winking at Anthony.

They sat back as their food arrived along with Justin’s chef friend, Robert, whom he introduced to Anthony. After a few friendly exchanges they were left alone to enjoy their meal and each other’s company. Anthony could not remember enjoying an evening like this since Mark died.
Careful
, he told himself in the middle of his euphoria.
Don’t expect too
much
,
too soon.

§ § § §

Jeff paced the floor of the hotel room, anxiously anticipating the knock on the door that would herald the arrival of the girl and her procurer. He was hating this. He wanted it to be over and the creeps in charge of this vice ring in jail. The phone in the room rang suddenly and he jumped involuntarily. He recognized the oily voice.

“We’re on our way up. Do you have the money?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” The line went dead and Jeff replaced the receiver. He picked up the envelope containing the fifteen hundred dollars that McKenna had given him earlier with the wry admonition—“Don’t go spending it on anything I can’t get approval for.”

A few moments later came the knock on the door. Jeff strode over and opened it. A young girl was pushed toward him by the man he had spoken to in Benny’s Bar. His hand was outstretched to receive the money.

Jeff, resisting an urge to pull the man into the room and beat him to a bloody pulp, handed him the envelope.

“One hour,” the man said then left.

Jeff closed the door and turned to look at the girl. She appeared dazed but managed a little smile, then went to sit on the bed. She began unbuttoning the front of her blouse.

Jeff walked quickly over to her. “You don’t have to do that, sweetheart.”

She put her small hands on his face, looked at him with big questioning eyes, then reached up to kiss him.

“It’s all right,” he whispered. “You just sit there. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He could tell she had been given some drug to make her acquiescent. Valium probably, he thought as she looked at him with an unfocused stare.

“Please,” she whimpered. “They’ll beat me if you don’t like me.”

Jeff put his arms around her. “No one’s going to beat you ever again sweetheart, believe me.”

Just then the door crashed open and a man, brandishing a gun, rushed into the room. “Get away from her, you bastard!” he yelled at Jeff who leapt to his feet away from the girl, taking her out of the line of fire.

“That’s right, pervert!” The man’s face was contorted with rage. “Stay away from her.” He glanced at the girl. “You all right, honey?” The girl nodded then looked anxiously at both men. “He’s not going to touch you now.” The man, who looked strangely familiar, waved the gun in Jeff’s face.

Jeff’s eyes narrowed as he stared at the man
. Where the hell do I know you from
?

“You’re through molesting little girls, buddy,” the guy snarled.

“Wait.” Jeff held his hands out to show he wasn’t armed. “You’ve got this all wrong. I’m a private detective. The police are waiting downstairs to arrest the guy who brought her here.”

“You take me for a fool? I saw you in the bar making your little arrangement for tonight. I’ve been tracking these guys for days, ever since my daughter came home to me with her face all smashed up by one of your type. You disgusting perverts. I’m going to stop you
and
them from harming any other innocent kid—just like I stopped the other guy.”

The other guy?

“You don’t understand—this is a police operation. You’re getting in the way.” It was then Jeff recognized the man as the loner in the Bernie’s Bar. The one who had looked at him with such loathing. “Hey, that’s right, you were in the bar the other day. You saw me make contact with these sleaze balls. It was a set up—”

“Shut up! You’re not talking your way out of this. Get out of the room,” he told the girl. “Wait for me in the lobby. I’ll be down soon as I take care of this piece of garbage.”

The girl appeared to be close to tears. “He’s a nice man. He promised he wouldn’t hurt me.”

“Do what I
say
,” he snapped, his voice quivering with nerves.

Jeff took the opportunity that the man gave him when he looked away for a moment at the girl. Jeff lunged at him, grabbing for the gun. They fell to the floor, the gun going off with a deafening roar. The girl screamed and ran from the room as Jeff and the man wrestled grimly in silence. Jeff succeeded in getting on top of his assailant and, sitting astride him, pinned his hands to the floor.

“Listen to me,” he panted. “I’m working with the police. I told you this is a set up to catch these guys in action. You walked right into the middle of a police operation.”

The man looked up at him, bewilderment spreading over his face. Jeff could tell he finally believed him. He stopped struggling and lay limply, tears seeping from his closed eyes.

“They almost killed my baby. I had to stop them…”

Jeff took the gun from the man’s hand then jumped to his feet as McKenna and Sharpe burst into the room at that moment.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jeff replied. “Did you get the girl?”

“She’s in the lobby being looked after. Who’s this guy?”

“Says his daughter was beaten by someone using this prostitution ring. You better ask him for the details.”

Sharpe pulled the man to his feet none too gently. He slipped his hand into the man’s inside pocket and pulled out his billfold. “Jack Feldman.” Sharpe read the man’s ID. “What’s your story, Mr. Feldman?”

Feldman remained silent, his head bowed.

“Read him his rights,” McKenna said. “We’ll take him down for questioning.” He turned to Jeff. “You did good, Stevens. We got good pictures and we arrested the guy as he was leaving. With yours and the girl’s testimony we should be able to nail him and get the names of the others involved.”

Jeff breathed a sigh of relief. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I think I’ll head home.”

“Fine. Stop by the station tomorrow and we’ll take care of the details.”

McKenna and Sharpe led Feldman to the door and Jeff followed them to the elevator. In the lobby, he saw a policewoman sitting with the girl. He went over to them and knelt by the girl’s side.

“How are feeling, sweetheart?”

Her eyes appeared less dazed now. “Thank you for being so nice to me,” she said, and Jeff’s heart broke just a little as she hugged him.

The policewoman stroked the girl’s hair. “We’re trying to locate her parents,”

“What’s your name, little one?” Jeff asked.

BOOK: A Portrait of Emily
5.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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