“I’ve made some arrangements,” Karen replied. “Have you got someone who can give you a ride somewhere local?”
Tonya sighed in frustration. “Bitch, the house I stayed in last night got raided. If I hadn’t spent half the night on a roof my ass would be locked up too. No, I ain’t got no fucking ride. You interested in this baby or not? If not, I’ll find someone else.”
“Just relax, Tonya,” Karen said. She didn’t sound angry at all. Perhaps she was used to being cursed at, used to the temperament and histrionics of drug abusers. “Is there a place I can meet you?”
“There’s a convenience store about a mile from here.” Tonya described the location.
“I think I can find that but I’m about an hour away.”
“Well hurry,” Tonya said. “It ain’t safe for me to be out in public. I’ve got warrants. Someone recognizes me walking up the road and I’m busted.”
“One hour,” Karen assured her, hanging up the phone.
Tonya rolled her eyes at the phone as she hung it up. Standing there, she noticed a picture on the wall. It didn’t appear to have been moved. She knew it covered an old flue from a long-gone woodstove, and she also knew what was kept inside that flue. She'd been in the kitchen before when goodies were stashed there.
She took the picture from the wall and tossed it onto the floor. Behind it was the kind of decorative tin insert people used to cover abandoned flue pipes. She got her fingernails behind the insert and pulled it from the flue. Inside the clay pipe was a bag of pills.
Tonya grinned. She was aware this wasn’t the only stash in the house. It wasn’t even the biggest, but the police must have found those or they wouldn’t have made any arrests. She extracted the bag and studied it. She recognized the pills it contained. This would be enough to get her through a week or two if she didn’t sell any.
With an hour to kill, she drained the beer she was drinking and grabbed a few more from the fridge. She went to the back porch, out of sight of the driveway and the road, and sat down on the cool concrete steps. Though it wasn't as good as snorting one, she popped one of the pills and washed it down with a swallow of beer. She lit a cigarette from a pack she found inside and enjoyed this small moment of peace and good fortune in the maelstrom of her life. By the time she finished the beer, it would be time for her to start walking.
22
Hilltop Beer and Gas
Washington County, Virginia
When Karen drove into the convenience store parking lot she had to cruise around for a moment before she spotted Tonya. The woman was sitting on a concrete parking block behind a dumpster, hidden from the road and the fuel pumps. When Karen finally saw her, she stopped and honked the horn, waving out the open window.
Tonya flipped a cigarette into the grass, then staggered slightly as she got to her feet, lurching to the side like the Earth had moved unexpectedly beneath her feet. Though it was barely 10:30 in the morning, Karen suspected Tonya was already drunk or high. With a shake of her head, Karen touched the button to unlock the doors and waited for Tonya to climb into the passenger seat.
“Damn, what a morning,” Tonya said a bit too loud as she awkwardly struggled to get inside. “Nearly got my ass busted by the law already. Nearly fell off a roof. The world is a dangerous place.”
Karen raised an eyebrow, a sign of the loathing she felt for people who took no responsibility for their lives. She hated weakness and she felt it was their own personal shortcomings that put most of her clients in this situation. They did it to themselves. “It’s all about decisions,” she reminded Tonya in the sing-song voice of an adult speaking to a child. “Make smarter decisions and you might not find yourself in those kinds of situations.”
Tonya curled her lip into a sneer. She held just as much contempt for women like Karen, always looking down their noses at her. She saw it anytime she dealt with the normal everyday world —cops, nurses, doctors, probation, even people in stores. They all looked at her like she was carrying something contagious. She hated it.
“Bitch, don’t you try to act like you’re some real counselor with me. I’m onto you. You ain’t no better than me so don’t be acting all high and mighty.”
Karen bit her tongue. Tonya was right. That was exactly what happened, the counselor in her had tried to come out, and Karen should know that counseling was a lost cause with Tonya. She wasn’t changing for anyone. She was a lifer. Drugs were her gig and she was never going to be anything other than what she was right now.
And for as much as Karen despised women like Tonya, they were going to make her a rich woman eventually. Karen only had this job because there were women willing to do anything to stay high. They’d sell themselves, sell their children, steal, or do absolutely anything you asked them to do because nothing was more important to them than staying high.
“I apologize,” Karen said, reeling it back in. “It sounds like you had a crazy morning.”
Tonya nodded. “Girl, I did but things are looking up. I had some cereal and got a few beers in me.”
Karen fought back a smile as she processed this. Was that all it took to make the day a little better? Some cereal and a few beers? Maybe that was what Karen was doing wrong in her life. Perhaps she was unnecessarily complicating things.
“Tonya, I’ve made arrangements for you. I’ve got a place you can lay low until the baby is born without any questions. I need to send the doc to take a look at you. We need to make sure you don’t have any complications that could endanger the baby.” Karen specifically didn't mention any complications that could endanger Tonya. She was of no consequence really, merely a vessel.
Tonya frowned at that. “I don’t like doctors. They’re always talking down to you and poking their nasty fat fingers where they don’t belong.”
“And a dead baby is worth nothing to any of us,” Karen retorted. “If we’re going to shelter you, the least you can do is allow a doctor to check you out.”
“When do I get my money?”
Karen sighed. It was always money with these people. “When we get the baby.”
“Can I get an advance? A little something upfront? I got expenses.”
Karen shook her head. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want you getting a pocketful of cash and disappearing on me, or doing something that might harm the baby. We’ll take care of your basic needs so you won’t even need money. Then, once the baby is born, you’ll receive your cash.”
“How much cash? We ain't agreed to nothing yet.”
Karen hated this part. She’d prefer their company have someone else who could negotiate these arrangements but they didn’t. She was the one person who knew how these purchases worked. “I can offer you ten thousand dollars.”
Tonya snorted. “Ten thousand is not a lot of money. Hell, I could blow through that in a good month and not have a damn thing left. A clean baby with no birth certificate should be worth more than that. I don’t think I could sell it for less than...say fifteen thousand.”
Karen could hear the uncertainty in Tonya’s voice, the hint of concern that maybe she was asking too much and might blow this deal if she wasn’t careful. Karen walked a fine line too. She had to make Tonya feel like she was getting a good deal, yet not respond so quickly that Tonya thought she might be willing to go higher. Karen sucked in a breath and released a dramatic sigh. She had to make it look good, like Tonya was getting the best of her. “I think I can do that. I can do fifteen.”
Tonya grinned broadly and settled in her seat like a satisfied child who’d gotten her way. She was practically giddy with excitement. Karen was too actually, though she hid her cards better. She’d already told Harrison that she might need thirty-five thousand to secure this child. Harrison, used to the prices in more urban markets, didn’t understand that the people who came into Karen’s clinic were less sophisticated and would often settle for less money. That twenty thousand dollar difference between what he gave Karen and what she gave Tonya would go
straight into Karen’s secret retirement fund. Retaining a little extra on every transaction was amassing her a hefty nest-egg.
Karen had no compunction against stealing from Harrison. After all, what had he stolen from her over the years? Sure, he'd sent her to college and set her up in this position, but it was only because of what she could do for him. Before that, when she'd first began working for Harrison, it was under much different circumstances. She'd been a teenage runaway then and had become ensnared in Harrison's network.
She'd lost her virginity to him when she was thirteen years old. After that, she'd been a party favor that he used to entertain his friends and associates. Sure, she had her freedom and some money in her pocket now, but her loyalty came at a price. She would take every opportunity to skim a little off the top. When she had enough money saved up she'd use the tricks she learned from Harrison to disappear. At thirty-five, she'd start her life over again in a new place, with a new name.
“Where are you taking me?” Tonya asked, pulling Karen from her thoughts.
“I’m taking you up the interstate to a truck stop, where you’re going to catch a ride south on I-77 with a truck driver. He’s being paid to not ask questions so don’t get all chatty with him. He doesn’t need to know your life story. He doesn’t need to know anything about you and you should keep it that way. He’ll get you as far as Winston-Salem, North Carolina.” Karen reached into her shirt pocket, removed a folded sheet of paper, and handed it over to Tonya. “I took the liberty of writing this all down. I didn’t figure you’d be able to remember it all.”
“You’re such a bitch. I ain’t stupid,” Tonya snapped.
Karen sighed. “I don’t think you’re stupid, Tonya, it’s just a lot to remember, so don’t lose that. The truck driver is going to take you as far as a truck stop just outside Winston-Salem. He’ll tell you when it’s time to catch your next ride. At the truck stop, you need to look for a 1989 Winnebago with North Carolina tags. They’ll be flying a Tar Heels flag to make it easier to spot them.”
Tonya’s face crinkled in confusion. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?”
“A Tar Heel flag.”
Karen tried not to react to Tonya’s question. She had to remind herself that there had been a time in her own life when she’d been less sophisticated. Tonya was responding from her own particular set of experiences and they probably didn’t involve much college football. “The Tar Heels are a college football team in North Carolina. Look for a light blue flag with letters on it.”
Tonya nodded. “Oh, okay. Football. Light blue with letters. Got it.”
“Yeah, just knock on the door. They’ll be expecting you. They may have some other folks with them so don’t be surprised if there are already people in the camper when you get there. They’ll be taking you to a farm a little farther south. They use a lot of migrant labor down there so they have dorms and campers set up for folks to stay in. They provide meals.”
“What’s migrant labor?”
“People that travel around the country helping on different farms.”
Tonya appeared uncertain. “Are they illegal aliens?”
“Why do you care?” Karen asked.
Tonya shrugged. “I guess I don’t. Just ain’t been around a lot of illegal aliens.”
Karen didn’t figure the illegals had been around many folks like Tonya either, but she kept that to herself. “It’ll be fine. Everybody has a past and minds their own business. That’s what you need to do too. Don’t get involved with other people down there. Keep to yourself.”
“I can do that but I'll need more than a bed and food if I’m gonna hide out until this baby comes. I’m using to partying every day. I need a little buzz. I’m going to need weed and beer. Hell, something. I can’t just hide out in the country and do nothing. I’ll go nuts.”
Karen reminded herself to be patient. She paused a moment before she spoke. “Listen, I can’t get you those things. I don’t buy drugs for myself and I’m sure not going to buy them for you. That’s not my department. You’ll just have to figure that out for yourself.”
“And how am I supposed to pay for anything if I don’t have money?”
It was on the tip of Karen’s tongue to suggest that Tonya could probably pay for her needs the same way she’d always paid for them, but she held her tongue. She shouldn’t assume that Tonya prostituted herself, though it was highly likely she did. As much as Karen hated to, she was probably going to have to advance Tonya some money to keep her happy. “I suppose we might be able to work out some allowance arrangement.”
“Fuck a damn allowance,” Tonya said. “I want an advance on my fifteen grand.”
“Would a couple of hundred dollars make you happy?”
Tonya was getting agitated. “For a couple of days it might, but this ain’t high school. I got a professional-level habit to support.”
Karen stewed. She needed to figure this out. It was her job. Harrison expected if there were issues or complications, she’d deal with them. That’s why he paid her well. “Look, we’ll have to stop at the office. I’ve got money there. If it makes you happy I’ll give you a three hundred dollar advance for now, but that’s the best I can do. And you better not disappear with it.”
Whenever Tonya got what she wanted it was like someone flipped a switch. Suddenly she was happy again. It was a reaction typical of people with low impulse control. “That’ll work. I’ll be looking for another three hundred next week.”
Karen didn’t reply and Tonya picked up on her hesitation. “Listen, if I don’t get that money I’ll have to go out in the community looking for a buzz. Who knows where I might end up?”
“Fine!” Karen snapped. “You’ll get three hundred next week too.”
Tonya said nothing else, gloating at the small successes she’d achieved. She wasn’t used to being in a position of power in negotiations and she relished the feeling. Karen was irritated but knew she shouldn’t be. This type of interaction came with the territory. This was how drug users were. Most of them were fairly simple and tended to respond with the emotional maturity of children. She should know better than to get angry at them.
23
Glade Spring, Virginia
It was late morning when Ty pulled his truck off the road down the street from the suboxone clinic. Though he’d been eager to get started, he wanted to give the morning traffic time to thin out. Even in a rural community, people were heading to work, farmers heading to the feed store, and people out running errands. He figured the fewer people who saw him, the less likely it would be that anyone questioned what he was doing.
He turned his emergency flashers on and placed an orange cone at the front and rear of his truck. He got out his clipboard, perched the safety glasses on his nose, and cocked the hardhat on his head. He hung a small gym bag over his shoulder and walked along the gravel edge of the road, looking around with an authoritative demeanor. Going undercover was about attitude. Ty belonged there. He had official business. No one would bother him.
To someone passing by, Ty could have been a contractor with a public utility—the gas company, the power company, the phone company, or an internet service provider. He could be a contractor with the highway department or a paving company. He looked around with great interest, scribbling notes on the single sheet of printer paper that he’d clipped onto the clipboard.
Occasionally he used his cellphone to take a picture like he was documenting something relevant. Most of the pictures were nothing in particular. Taking them was more about being in character than photographing anything useful. He kept all his attention directed at the side of the road opposite the clinic, not wanting to give the clinic staff any reason to be concerned about his presence.
As he walked along the shoulder he gazed into the weeds beyond the ditch like he was looking for something. There was a strip of woods across the road from the clinic, an undeveloped lot separating a bank from a tire shop. Ty hadn’t researched who o
wned the lot but he was hoping he could access it without drawing the ire of the property owner. If he acted fast enough maybe no one would notice. He stepped off the shoulder and pressed into the tall brush.
Finding a spot with a view of the clinic entrance, he quickly set up one of the cellular trail cameras. He’d activated and charged it last night before installing a high capacity memory card. When he had it securely strapped to a tree, he crouched down beside it to check the view. Seeing that a few twigs were obscuring the sightline between the camera and the clinic, he discreetly walked along that line, snapping the twigs out of the way as he went.
Wanting to place the second camera in a position that might allow him to see the back parking lot of the clinic, Ty walked a little further down the road and reentered the woods. As he was scouting for a second camera position, trying to get a good view, a white Cadillac Escalade pulled into the employee lot and parked. This was the first activity Ty had seen in that lot since arriving so he dropped to his knees and pulled a small set of binoculars from his pocket. Fully aware that the bright safety colors he was wearing offered no camouflage at all, Ty tried to minimize his moments and not draw any attention to himself.
A frumpy woman in a tight business suit got out of the driver’s side, pulling an identification lanyard over her neck as she stalked to the back door. As soon as she was inside the building, the passenger door of the vehicle swung open and a second woman got out. She was wearing shorts and a tank top, both stretched tight from an obvious late-stage pregnancy. The woman leaned against the grille of the Escalade and lit a cigarette.
Ty assumed the woman had waited until the employee was inside so she wouldn’t fuss at her for smoking while pregnant, but that must not have been the case. When the employee came out a few minutes later, she spoke with the pregnant woman, who continued to casually smoke. The pregnant woman extended her hand, palm up, and the employee counted out some cash into her hand. Through the binoculars, Ty could see the pregnant woman grin as the stack of cash grew.
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