Wild Captive

by Tripp Ellis

  JD frowned, then confidently said, "You know he's got a stash in his house."

  "Maybe, maybe not."

  "I say we do a knock and talk. See if we can get him to invite us in. Once we are inside, maybe we can find something?”

  It was just about then when Edgar stepped out the front door, locked it behind him, then walked around the driveway and hopped into his car. He drove a red Ford that had a hood that looked like someone had left the wax on for too long and couldn't get it off.

  He backed out of the driveway, dropped the car into gear, and took off down the street.

  JD followed.

  We kept our distance as we tailed him.

  He twisted his way over to the seedy side of town and pulled up to a crack shack on Dowling Street. I didn't much care for being in this neighborhood during the day, much less at night. Life wasn't worth a nickel on the streets. I'd seen bodies carved up in the pieces, and innocent bystanders mowed down with stray bullets.

  It wasn't pretty.

  Several cartels and local gangs operated in the area. Law enforcement would stamp one out, and another would pop up. It was a never ending game of whack-a-mole.

  "Let me guess, he's visiting his sweet aunt?" JD said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

  Edgar knocked on the door. A moment later someone pulled open the door, and he was allowed to enter. He didn't stay long—10 minutes tops. Then he trotted to the street and hopped into his car.

  "I guarantee he's got possession of an illegal substance now. We could pull him over for a minor traffic violation?" JD suggested.

  "In a red convertible Porsche?" I said with a skeptical glance.

  "I'll pull alongside him, and you flash your badge. Sounds like fun."

  "I'd rather see where he's going."

  We followed him as he twisted through the city streets to the Sand Comber Motel. It was a seedy little budget joint that was big with hookers and drug dealers. There were a few legitimate tenants looking for a budget alternative to the ritzy five-star hotels on the beach. The complex was laid out in an L shape. There were two stories, and a small office up front. A decrepit archway guarded the entrance with neon signage that buzzed at night with flickering bulbs.

  We pulled to the curb across the street and watched Edgar park his little red beater. He climbed out and hurried to room #15. He slid the key into the slot, opened the door, and disappeared into the dingy motel room.

  "What do you suppose he’s doing in there?" JD asked, knowingly.

  We watch for a while, and it wasn't long before another car pulled in the parking lot, a man got out and strolled to room #15. He knocked on the door, and Edgar opened it. The two men shook hands, a lot of green was exchanged, and Edgar stepped out of the room, and the man entered.

  It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what was going on.

  I nodded to JD. It was time to make our move.

  37

  Edgar had no idea what was about to happen. He leaned against his car, smoking a cigarette. JD and I creeped up behind him, our weapons drawn.

  "Deputy Sheriff!" I shouted. "Put your hands behind your head and interlock your fingers."

  JD moved toward him and slapped the cuffs around his wrist, then bent his arm behind his back and clamped the other cuff tight.

  "Man, what the fuck is your problem? I ain’t do nothing."

  JD dug into Edgar’s pocket and found a large stash of heroin. "Look what we got here," he said, dangling it in front of Edgar. He tossed the evidence onto the hood of the car.

  "Let me guess, that's not yours?" I said. "You don't know where it came from?"

  "You can't just search me like that. You need probable cause!"

  "I've got it. I have a reasonable suspicion there's a crime in progress.

  JD pulled the hotel key out of Edgar's other pocket and tossed it to me. "Why don't you go see what kind of entrepreneurial endeavor he's running out of this motel."

  JD kept an eye on Edgar while I advanced to the room. I slipped the key into the lock and twisted the handle and pushed open the door.

  A man bounced up and down on the bed atop a young girl.

  They weren't playing twister.

  He pulled a sheet around himself and scampered to a corner. "What the hell is going on?"

  "County Sheriff!" I yelled. "On the ground. Now!"

  He tumbled to the floor, face down, his bare ass flashing the ceiling. I could have gone my whole life without seeing that.

  The girl looked terrified. She sat up in bed, covering herself with a comforter. I recognized her from the rehab facility.

  It was Violet's friend, Penelope.

  Her eyes were glassy, and she looked out of it. There was a spoon and a needle on the nightstand. It was clear that Edgar had fixed her up before pimping her out.

  Edgar had been leveraging his position at the rehab facility to induce these girls into prostitution, providing access to their drug of choice. I was sure he had something to do with the disappearance of Violet.

  Rage boiled within me, and my body tensed.

  I called Sheriff Daniels and requested additional officers.

  Before long, the parking lot was bathed in red and blue lights.

  EMTs evaluated Penelope and gave her medication to counteract the narcotics.

  She sobbed as she sat on the edge of the bed, her mascara running. She confirmed all of my suspicions about Edgar, and she came clean about everything she knew regarding Violet. "I know he had something to do with her going missing. It's so hard, you know. You can get past the withdrawal symptoms, but the cravings never go away. Edgar made it available. He preyed on good-looking girls that he thought he could control. You're in the program, then, all of a sudden, you're strung out again. Once he got his hooks into you, then he'd start withholding unless you agreed to do things for him. It just kept escalating. Of course, I didn't have any money, so I had to work off the drugs he gave me. It was a never-ending cycle."

  "Aren’t you randomly tested in the facility?" I asked.

  She nodded. "Yeah, but there are ways around that. Edgar saw to it we would never fail a test. He said we could make money doing this, and that he'd split the profits."

  "He had his system down, didn't he?" JD said.

  "What about Violet?" I asked.

  "He was using her too. Then one day she was gone. He never said what happened to her, or where she went. I tried to find out, but he wouldn't tell me anything. He threatened to cut me off completely if I said anything. I'm in here as part of a court ordered rehabilitation program. If I get caught using, I go back to jail."

  She burst into sobs again. "I guess that's where I'm headed," she cried.

  I exchanged a look with JD and Sheriff Daniels. The girl had been through hell and back, and there wasn't any need to pour salt on the wound.

  "I'm sure if you cooperate with the prosecution, the DA will make an exception for you," I said. "Will you testify against Edgar?"

  She nodded. "I'll do anything to see he goes down for this. He's ruined too many people's lives. I don't want that to happen to another girl, ever!"

  38

  "Where's Violet Scarpetti?" I asked. My tone was ferocious, and I snarled at him like a rabid animal. I wanted to beat this man senseless and make his face look like a pepperoni pizza. Somehow, I managed to restrain myself, for the time being.

  "I don't know nothing about her," Edgar replied.

  He sat in a chair, handcuffed in a small interrogation room down at the station.

  I leaned against the table in front of him like a demon. "Right now we've got you on possession of a controlled substance, compelling prostitution, and multiple other felony charges. You're going to go away for a long, long time unless you start talking."

  He knew he was in deep shit.

  "You're not too bright, are you?" I said. "You really haven't thought this whole thing through."

  A quizzical look twisted on his face.

  "Do you know who Violet
Scarpetti is? Do you know who her father is?"

  His cautious eyes tried to figure out where I was going with this.

  "Tony Scarpetti is the kind of guy that makes a few phone calls, and scumbags like you stop breathing. If he thinks that you facilitated his daughter's disappearance, how long do you think you're going to survive in prison? I mean, with the possession charge, compelling prostitution, and human trafficking, I think you're looking at a minimum of 30 years."

  "I don't think you’ll make it past the first week," JD said.

  "I don't either. You'll end up with a shiv in your back the first day you step into the yard."

  Edgar's eyes widened, and he fidgeted nervously.

  "Think you'll be safe in protective custody? Think again. The Mafia can hit anybody anywhere. So, by all means, clam up. Don't say a word. See where that will get you."

  Sweat sprouted on the man's forehead. His eyes flicked between us for a moment. "Okay. But I want a deal. If I talk, no jail time."

  "If you talk, and we get Violet back alive, and in one piece, I'm sure we can come to an acceptable arrangement."

  I couldn't speak for the DA.

  "I want it in writing," Edgar demanded.

  Edgar wasn't as dumb as he looked.

  I stepped into the hallway and conferred with Sheriff Daniels. We called the DA and explained the situation.

  "I can agree to that, if he gives us some bigger fish,” the DA said. “It's conditional on the safe return of the girl, and he's got to flip on his narcotics connection. He loses his ability to work in the health industry, or any industry where he could exercise influence over vulnerable populations. One slip up, and he will face the full charges of his crime. I'm not too worried about it, a guy like that can't keep his nose clean. So, I'll get him one way or another."

  I went back to the interrogation room and pitched the deal to Edgar, and he took it.

  "It started out small,” Edgar said. “First, I had the girls doing favors for me. Then I started monetizing their talent. A few hundred here, a few hundred there. Then I met a guy who had real connections. That's the guy you want. He offered me $25,000 for Violet."

  "And you sold her to him?" JD asked.

  Edgar nodded.

  "Where can we find this connection of yours?" I asked.

  Edgar shrugged. "I can give you his name and his phone number. That's all I know. We met a few times at the motel to transact business."

  "How many times have you done this?" I asked, my jaw tense.

  "Our deal was for Violet. That's all I'm saying. Unless you're offering me immunity on everything?"

  "I'll check with the DA about that. In the meantime, give me this guy’s name, description, and contact information."

  "The guy’s name is Bennett. That's all I know. Short, stocky, dark hair, dark eyes, tanned skin. Looks like he spends a lot of time in the gym."

  Edgar gave me Bennett's cell phone number.

  "Great, you're going to set up a meeting."

  Edgar's eyes widened. "Me?"

  "Yeah, you. You're going to call him and tell him you've got another girl."

  "Aw, man. I just told you everything I know. I don't want to get involved in a sting operation. You're going to have me making all kinds of enemies."

  "Welcome to the life of a confidential informant."

  39

  "No. Absolutely not," Denise said.

  "Why not?" I asked.

  The three of us stood in the conference room, the florescent overhead lights bathing the room in a pale glow. We huddled by the mahogany table surrounded by black leather chairs.

  "Because… It's not that I don't trust you. I just don't like the idea of being bait."

  Denise's smoldering good looks would be more than enough enticement to get Bennett's interest.

  "You could be saving countless girls from a similar fate," I said, laying it on thick.

  Her eyes narrowed at me. "Don't try to guilt trip me."

  "You're a trained, law enforcement professional. Would you rather JD and I found a civilian?"

  She scowled at me. "Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

  I shrugged innocently. “All I need is a picture of you in civilian clothes. Something cute and sexy." Then I added, "With pigtails."

  She continued to glare at me.

  "What?” I said, innocently. "You could pass for 19 or 20, in the appropriate attire."

  "You just want to see me out of this uniform," she said, flatly.

  Goddamn right I did.

  "It's for a good cause," JD added.

  "I don't have to do anything other than a picture, do I?"

  I shook my head. "Not if you don't want to. I mean, you could come to the sting with us. I can guarantee your safety. You wouldn’t be out of our sight at any time."

  She folded her arms and arched an eyebrow.

  "I swear, I won't let anything bad happen to you."

  She thought about it for another moment, then exhaled. "Fine. What do I have to do?"

  "I've got Edgar's cell phone right here," I said, holding up the device. "I'll take a few photos, send them to Bennett, and schedule a meeting at the Sand Comber Motel."

  "What do you want me to wear?"

  "Well, you're supposed to be a young girl with a drug addiction. We need to entice Bennett with your… exceptional talent."

  Her eyes narrowed at me.

  "How about a bra and panties?" I suggested.

  She dropped her jaw. "No!"

  "Come on. What's the big deal? It's like wearing a swimsuit."

  "No. It's not like wearing a swimsuit. Besides my bra doesn't match my panties today."

  "I don't think Bennett will care."

  JD added, "I don't think any guy would care."

  "I am not sending a picture of me half naked to some random dude’s cell phone."

  JD rolled his eyes. "Like you've never done that before."

  She glowered at him. "No. I have not."

  "You've never texted a boyfriend a sexy picture?" JD asked, incredulous.

  "That's none of your business."

  JD grinned victoriously. "See."

  "You two have taken the sexual harassment seminar, right?"

  "Nobody's harassing anybody,” JD said. “We're just trying to save young girls from the horrific fate of sex trafficking."

  Her eyes narrowed, and she growled at JD. "I swear to God, you two can spin anything. How is it that I feel like the asshole because I don't want to send explicit photos of myself to some pervert?"

  "You're right. It was totally inappropriate of us to ask," I said. "I'm sure we can find somebody else. I'm sorry if we offended you."

  I turned to JD. "Come on, I think I have somebody in mind."

  He looked at me curiously as we headed for the door.

  "Wait! I'll do it,” Denise sighed. “On one condition…"

  "Name it?" I said.

  "No. I'll name it later. That's my condition. I do this for you, and you do something for me at an unspecified date sometime in the future."

  "That’s sort of open-ended, isn't it?"

  "Take it or leave it."

  40

  Denise did her makeup in the bathroom mirror. We had rented a room at the Sand Comber Motel, and Denise was dolling herself up for our impromptu photo shoot. She wore a cheap white hotel bathrobe while she applied her makeup.

  We had rented connecting suites, and JD babysat Edgar in the next room.

  I sat on one of the double beds, waiting for Denise to finish. I worried it might take all afternoon. "It doesn't have to be too good," I said. "We’re not shooting the cover of a magazine."

  "If you are sending half naked photos of me to some guy, I'm going to look good. You never know… these photos could get leaked. If I'm gonna have to live the rest of my life with these photos available on the Internet, they're going to be hot."

  “I have no doubt they’ll be hot.”

  A few moments later, she finally stepped out
of the bathroom. She untied the robe, and let the garment slip from her shoulders, dropping down her svelte body, past her toned thighs, over her sculpted calves, pooling around her ankles.

  I swallowed hard.

  She stood in the seedy motel, wearing nothing but a matching set of underwear—black bra and panties. We made a stop by her house on the way to the motel so she could get something nice, in her words.

  Her eyes smoldered. "What do you think?"

  My jaw dropped, my eyes widened. The oxygen rushed out of the motel room. I couldn't breathe for a moment. My heart pounded in my chest.

  Damn, she looked good!

  What did I think?

  She knew the answer before she asked.

  I thought she looked amazing. A vision sent from heaven. A sultry vixen that could inspire a man’s obsession. Those legs could launch a thousand ships. Send battalions into battle. Kingdoms would rise and fall because of a woman like that.

  "Where do you want me?" she asked, adding insult to injury.

  I stammered. "Um, just get on the bed."

  I could barely get out the words.

  I took Edgar’s cell phone and launched the camera app.

  Denise crawled on the bed and posed herself.

  "That's great, arch your back a little bit. Now give me a drugged out, smoldering, sexy, innocent, naughty look."

  She rolled her eyes, then complied. I snapped a few photos as she changed positions. Denise worked the camera like a professional model.

  "Is this good? Is this what you want?" she asked in a breathy, baby doll voice.

  I swallowed hard again. "Um, yeah, that's great."

  I kept thinking about JD’s suggestion that we should become professional photographers.

  I kept clicking photos, even though I already had more than enough. Denise was in a groove and didn't seem like she had any intention of stopping. Who was I to interrupt her?

  She slid around the bed provocatively.

  I was envious of the sheets.

  I kept taking pictures as fast as the camera would snap them. I coached her into different positions, angling her body in sublime ways. She smoldered into the camera, looking like she was on the brink of orgasm. The girl knew how to work the lens.