by Coulton, JC
There are a few things I’m not so good at—self-love and self-acceptance, for starters. I tend to believe it’s my fault when a man leaves. It doesn’t enter my mind he might have to go to work, or something else perfectly normal to do. I end up thinking it’s me, and that it’s always going to be me.
The truth is, I’m just being indulgent with this train of thought. It’s easy to be the victim when I don’t want to face reality. I should snap out of it. On a more practical level, I’m happy he’s not here to be awkward with.
Chapter Eight
Carrie
I’m down in the mezzanine restaurant having lunch later that day when my phone rings inside my bag. It’s Agent Cooper. I’m confused. Somewhere along the line, he’s taken the time to program himself into my contacts, because I certainly didn’t put him there.
I wonder when he did that. Maybe when I went to the bathroom, or when I was smoking on the balcony? I can’t figure it out. Being an FBI agent suits him. I can only imagine what he’s like with actual criminals.
I answer the phone. “Agent Cooper, how are you?”
“I’m well. How are you, Carrie?” His brief, no nonsense answer matches my professional tone, and I like it.
“I’m downstairs having breakfast.”
“My apologies for disturbing you. I wanted you to know that I spoke to my superiors about you and there’s a possibility that you can help us with this case. Possibly, a lot more than Detective Anderson may have thought viable. I understand you’ve got some experience with the woman they call Neon Lips?”
My mind wanders to the stalking that night after leaving Jessup’s club, to Blake’s album, and then her call, before I begin to relate back what I know about Neon.
“I think she has something to do with the prostitution ring. Blake told me she’s a pimp of sorts, running girls for various gangs. Personal experience with her, though? I can’t claim that. I have never formally met her, or seen her face to face.”
“Carrie, before we go any further, you need to know some things about Detective Anderson. I know you’ve been friends for some time, so please don’t let this upset you.”
I feel my breath hitch in my chest. I can tell already it’s something bad.
“Just tell me.” I say it quickly, putting my fork down.
“Carrie, Blake Anderson has more than one connection to the ring of people who we think have April.”
I wait with baited breath while he continues.
“We have reports that Blake and Neon Lips, otherwise know as Erica Morgan, have been meeting as recently as yesterday near your hotel. She’s a major suspect in more than one missing person’s case, and has been under surveillance for some time. It wasn’t until yesterday that we spotted her with Detective Anderson, when they met in his car.”
“Further to that, our investigation has uncovered that she and Detective Anderson have an existing connection. Before she got into the management game, she was a working girl herself. They dated a few years back, but when Blake couldn’t save her—or convince her to get out of the game—he let her go.
“Despite that, they’ve kept a connection over the years. On more than one occasion he’s looked past leads on cases that could implicate her. They clearly have an agreement that you’re not privy too, Carrie.”
“Thanks for letting me know Agent Cooper.” My voice is calm and cold like it always gets when I’m hurting. I learned to shut down many years ago, and I do it again now.
I hear him pause. “Carrie, I’m not telling you this to cause you any pain. You need to know, because it means you hold a unique position of power now. The bureau wants to talk more with you about how you can help us with the investigation. If you’re willing that is?”
I don’t answer. All I can do is listen.
“It could mean learning more about Blake than you had bargained for, but your help could very well save the life of your friend. Shall I tell the team that you’re willing to discuss it?”
I look down for a second at my eggs. I was right! I knew something was up, but this is the last thing I expected. My world starts to crumble around the edges. I’ve loved this man for years. He may have been staying with me, and using my body, but he’s also been seeing Neon. And now, to learn he’s potentially helping the people who have April? I feel betrayed and rejected, but more than anything else, I feel angry.
If this weren’t coming from the FBI, I wouldn’t believe a word of it. But it is, and I feel like such a fool. Of course it couldn’t be real. Nothing is ever real for me. Nothing is true. I can’t rely on any man to care for me. If I don’t look after myself, no one else will.
Tears are rolling down my face. I pay no attention to the worried looks the waitresses are giving me. It’s the shock of it more than anything. I’m shaking. He’s been betraying me and breaking the law he talks so passionately about. But most of all, he’s left April in danger.
I should have known my bad boy would never turn into a prince charming. That old saying about a leopard changing his spots must be true. Sure enough, those spots can fade, but the devil stays behind, waiting for prey.
There’s nothing else I can do now. What I want to do is shut it all off, and get on with my meltdown. But with all the will I have left in my body, I squash down the feelings. Now is the time to stop listening to my heart, and start taking action. My inner monologue sounds like it’s coming from a drill sergeant right now. I’ll think about kindness and compassion for myself later on. For now, I need to get back to what matters. Getting things done.
“Yes Agent Cooper. I’m interested. Please tell the team I’m willing to discuss whatever you feel I can help with.”
There’s silence for a second on the end of the line.
“Carrie, are you sure? I have to raise this request as it comes from my superiors, but because of the potential risks, I would advise you against it. Your safety would always remain a paramount priority, but you need to know that even as an observer—which is the extent of involvement we’re talking about—helping the FBI this way, you may be in situations where not everything is predictable.”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get her back, but you have to be honest with me. I need to know everything. I want the whole truth, Jason.”
“Carrie, we will provide the information we can share. I appreciate your decision in wanting to help. I’m not sure how much Blake has shared with you. I’ll start with what we know about the business structure of the organization we suspect has April.”
I look around the restaurant. Tears are still on my face. If anyone knows I’m talking about an active criminal investigation they don’t show it. It feels so surreal to me, but for many others, it’s their everyday real life. I need to get used to the fact that I live in this world now.
If the FBI thinks I can do something, I’m sure I can. I’m naturally curious, and I notice what’s happening around me. It’s why I wanted to become a reporter. I feel quietly confident. Blake fucking Anderson and his little girlfriend are going to have no idea what’s hit them.
“Tell me what you know about Blake and Neon Lips,” I ask.
I pull my laptop from my bag. I’m ready to take notes one everything he has to say.
“As I said, they met when she was first a working girl. They were both seventeen. He picked her up off the street one morning when she’d been beaten by a client. It’s likely she played him, but then again, there was a mutual benefit, I’m sure.”
He pauses and I can’t help wincing a bit. Of course they were sleeping together. That’s what you do with hookers. I need to let go of my old perceptions of Blake. He may be the boy I wanted in high school, but his behavior paints a different picture in adulthood.
“Back then, Erica Morgan wasn’t known as Neon Lips. She was just young and hurting after having been beaten up. She gave Blake the perfect stray waif to look after. He already had his sister, as you know, but he could never resist this girl.
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“He had her stay with a friend, who was later arrested for drug possession, and possession with intent to sell. Basically, his friend was a middleclass drug dealer to yuppy clientele at the local night clubs. Blake is suspected of visiting her often, possibly daily. Eventually, they allegedly used together. As you know, he was a big drinker, but we have reason to believe his habits went beyond the bottle until she was well enough to work the streets again.
“It was a relatively harmless reciprocal arrangement, until the there was some type of disagreement between Blake and the dealer. It led to a violent argument and fight that nearly landed the three of them in prison. It was the first, but far from the last time that Erica Morgan ran into the police.”
“Erica played at least a dozen different criminals in various scams over the next couple of years. The scam always worked the same way, and it wasn’t long before she had a stronghold over one of the local pimps. By then, Erica was only working occasionally, but this new hookup meant she could align herself with the next level bosses, hence her ascent into management.
“Several violent episodes had soured her attitude to running the girls and the game the traditional way. After that, there was nothing stopping her from recruiting girls and driving them so hard they burned out. The opposite of compassionate, she quickly got a reputation as a ferocious but well-paying pimp. Her girls could do whatever they wanted on the job, as long as they delivered the cash back to her.
“She made sure all her girls developed a drug habit. It meant she had more control, and the girls could turn clients on to drugs as well. It’s the one thing that makes her different from the others. They avoided girls with addictions, but Erica preferred them.
“That’s when they started to call her Neon Lips—always ready with the kiss of a needle. The main girls would visit her at the beginning of each shift for their dose, and a talk on who they were supposed to target. These longstanding workers under Neon would recruit new girls without much effort. It’s an attractive solution on the street, for many newbies. Nightly shots and an unending supply of clients are tempting for any drug-addicted sex worker.
“Neon eventually invested in several run-down apartment complex. This is where the top girls in her stable stayed. All kept neatly under her control. She basically owned them, housed them and fed them drugs, until they couldn’t perform anymore. After that, they disappeared. Only to be quickly replaced by the next girls in line; or those they pluck off the street.”
I’m shocked at everything he’s told me. “So, if that’s what happens to every girl who joins her willingly, what about the ones taken against their will?”
He knows my question refers to April. There’s no way a smart girl like April would have gone along with a plan like this.
“Carrie, a couple of years ago, Neon got some extra backing. Blake had long cleaned himself up and was out of the picture by then. He was into his rookie years on the force. During that time, according to a source within Neon’s organization, they had little or no contact.
“She has built a larger and more profitable business through her latest racket. With a team of thugs and a fleet of cars, she’s able to feed fresh, unsuspecting woman across the boarder to Mexico, and then on to the world.”
“How likely is it that she has April?” I ask.
I sense he’s avoiding my question. He still hasn’t said what Neon could have done to her.
“Well, although we have no evidence of April’s exact location, and no record of her leaving the country, we do know Neon is a game player. If she has any idea of the history between you and Blake, she may have purposely kept April close.”
I don’t know whether this something to be relieved about or not.
“So are you saying you suspect Neon has April, and is keeping her in town to take out some form of revenge on Blake Anderson, or me?”
Chapter Nine
Carrie
I brace myself for what this man is about to tell me on the phone.
“Carrie, I hate so say it, but yes—that’s exactly what we suspect is going on. We think Neon’s play is to manipulate Blake into giving up his position on the force, and bringing him in to join her team. Or worse, she may convince him to stay on the force and play both sides.”
I shake my head. Of course something this twisted is going on. Of course! My life is crazy. It’s almost like a children’s story gone wrong. The evil witch tries to get back her handsome prince, and a young maiden gets lost in the process. Only it’s a modern day nightmare of a fairytale—with needles and blood diseases and prostitution and death.
“What do you want me to do about it, Jason? What could I possibly do? She’s obviously twisted up enough already. Surely adding me to the mix is not good?”
“You’re already involved, Carrie. You were there during the attack, and you got away. You’re close to Blake as well. You said yourself she phoned and threatened you.”
“And if you have all this information why can’t you organize a raid on her apartment buildings and be done with it?” I ask.
“It’s never that simple, Carrie. Many of these victims are so addicted to drugs, they cover for Neon. They say she’s their friend; that she’s not a pimp, and they go so far as to say they are with her of their free will. It’s the drugs. We need hard evidence to bring her down. We need to witness the transactions. And that’s where you come in.
“We want you to use your relationship with Blake to draw Neon out. We also want you to accompany us to point out whether April is one of the women she’s pimping from her apartments. We are not looking for you to engage Neon directly. Not on your own. Other than a few private conversations with Blake, on the phone or in person, you will not be in physical contact with Neon or anyone else. I’ll give you more details when we meet in person.”
“I have to ask. Is this about Neon or Blake?” I can’t believe I’m still thinking of protecting him after everything that’s been said. I don’t want to throw Blake under the bus. Still, I want to know.
“Blake’s loyalties are still unclear. He won’t know about the operation at all. Although he may show up, you’re going to have to lead the charge in compelling him to go to Neon.”
I’m starting to think Jason is giving me tidbits and not the big picture. He continues to avoid my questions about Blake, and coming to think about it, he isn’t saying much about April either. This tacit avoidance makes me even more uneasy.
Fear surges around the joints in my fingers as they hold the phone. It swirls into my chest and I can barely breathe. This is real fear. If they don’t know whether Blake will protect me, there’s no guarantee April will be safe after I poke the sleeping bear that is Neon.
I’ll be walking into a situation which could hurt me emotionally, and it may hurt April physically. Am I really strong enough to be in the same area code as Blake’s ex-girlfriend, April’s attacker and Blake himself, if it comes down to it? I have no idea. Jason is saying one thing, but my gut is telling me I may be agreeing to take a massive risk.
“Agent Cooper, how much of everything you’ve told me is grounded in evidence, and how much is speculation?”
“Carrie, all I can ask is for you to trust that we’ve come to these findings through a thorough investigative process. Can you do that? Do you trust me?”
Trust. There’s that word again. I hate the word just as much as the act of giving it to yet another man. Still, what choice do I have? This operation he’s looking to undergo gives me more involvement than anything Blake ever offered. I have a chance to help find April, so for the moment, I have to try out this trust thing again.
“I think so.”
“Good, trust is a habit, it’s a muscle. When you use it, it gets stronger. You might be afraid, but I will help you get through this, okay?”
His voice is so calm and self-assured, I can’t help feeling better. If I trust him, I could be heading into one of the most dangerous situations I’ve ever been in. There’s a decision to be made.
“Okay. Yes. I’ll do it.”
We set up a time to meet before I hang up the phone. The notes on my laptop suddenly look incredibly detailed. I begin to see everything in extreme close-up, the way our sight focuses in when the adrenalin is pumping. The pixels of the screen almost throb in the light reflected off a mirror behind me. This is one of those moments in time where my life is about to change forever. Knowing this and then making the decision to go ahead anyway is on me.
A birthday notification pops up in my email box. Without Facebook, I probably wouldn’t remember anyone’s big day, so I head on to the site, make the appropriate encouraging comments, and end up distracting myself with some memories from the past. Looking through photos makes me melancholy.
It’s a sad day when your history seems so far away. Even the photos of me from a few weeks ago look like a different person. My happy smiling face looks foreign. If that girl had any idea of what she’d face less than a month later, she would never have left Iowa. Life just falls down around us sometimes. There’s no warning.
I pay the waitress and head back to my room. For a moment, I cry. I know it’s not productive, but I can’t help myself. A dark mood has settled over me. It has everything to do with finding out about Blake’s lies. Who knows if anything he’s told me is the truth.
I picture my heart inside my chest. Instead of healthily beating, it’s a shriveled up prune, black and rotting. Somehow, it’s still keeping me breathing, and seeing every detail in the fabric of the comforter on my bed.
This is where the rubber hits the road. If I’m serious about helping April, now is the time to do something. Who would have thought my pre-teen detective fantasies would become a reality. The irony is ridiculous. I’ve never been more scared in my life.
The idea of manipulating Blake to get in front of to his ex; trying to turn them against each other; and entrapping her or the both of them for human trafficking; and saving my best friend in the process—well, it’s horrific.