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

by Pamela Samuels Young

  At least she’d finally gotten up the nerve to call the police. After being bounced around, she landed the ear of a detective who was familiar with the case. But once he heard that she wasn’t a family member and that she didn’t have any evidence to back up her suspicions, he rushed her off the phone.

  Bonnie parked her Ford Escort in front of the modest home on Magnolia Street. Locking her car door, she marched up the driveway and rang the doorbell. When no one answered, she knocked softly on the door. Again, no response. Just as she was about to knock again, the door opened, but just a crack.

  A gray-haired woman peered out at her.

  “Yes?” the woman said. “Can I help you?”

  “Is Ms. Walker home? I’m Bonnie Flanagan, Brianna’s teacher. I just wanted to know how she was doing and whether she’s heard anything about Brianna.”

  “Not a word,” the woman said, opening the door wider, but not asking her in. “And Donna’s not doing too good. She’s not even here. She constantly walks the streets putting up posters and asking people if they’ve seen Brianna. She’s out there with my son Anthony now. I’m scared she’s losing her mind. And I’ve been praying to Jesus that I don’t lose mine.”

  The anguish that plagued the woman’s face gave Bonnie a chill.

  “Is Brianna’s uncle here?”

  The woman shook her head.

  Bonnie hesitated, uncertain about whether she should tell this woman what she knew.

  “Well, please tell them I came by.” She opened her purse. “Could you give them my number?”

  The woman took Bonnie’s business card.

  “Why don’t you head on up to the shopping center at Rosecrans and Central. You might find Donna down there putting up posters of Brianna. I’ve told her that she’s just gotta have faith. Jesus will bring Brianna home.”

  Bonnie left and drove north on Wilmington Avenue, then made a left onto Rosecrans Boulevard, hoping to spot Donna. As soon as she pulled into the shopping center parking lot, she saw her.

  Donna Walker was wearing jeans and a light sweater. She was standing at the bus stop, taping a poster to the side of a Plexiglas enclosure. Bonnie saw a man across the street doing the same thing.

  She parked a few yards away near a Chinese takeout restaurant. Before getting out of the car, she cautiously checked her surroundings.

  “Mrs. Walker?” Bonnie said softly as she approached.

  Donna whirled around, apparently startled to hear her name being called.

  “I’m Brianna’s English teacher. I remember you from the last parent-teacher conference.”

  When she got closer, Bonnie could see that the poster had a color photograph of Brianna above the words, Help me find my missing daughter. It listed Brianna’s name and a phone number.

  Donna rushed up to her, invading her personal space. “Have you heard something?”

  “No,” Bonnie said. “Not about Brianna. But I do have some information to share with you.”

  Donna’s eyes expanded.

  What Bonnie was about to do would make life rough for her at work. Once Donna heard this information, she’d probably run straight to the police. Manuel Ortiz wouldn’t like it that she had disobeyed his direct order. But Bonnie couldn’t live with herself if she didn’t do everything in her power to bring Brianna home. Once the police started connecting the dots regarding the other missing girls, it might lead to something helpful.

  She paused to take a breath.

  “Your daughter isn’t the first student at Maverick Middle School who recently disappeared,” Bonnie said, resting her hand on Donna’s forearm. “She’s the fourth.”

  Chapter 40

  Day Two: 8:05 p.m.

  Dre and Clint remained locked in a silent standoff.

  “Look, man,” Clint finally said, as if he were doing him a favor, “I know my boss. I’m just trying to help you out. When I hit this button and connect you with Shep, if you keep talking all that ying, yang, all bets are off.”

  Dre couldn’t remember the last time he’d been faced with such a difficult task. He wasn’t a violent person. Despite more than a decade of dealing drugs, he’d never had reason to want to kill anyone. But remaining in his seat right now, facing the man who knew his niece’s whereabouts was tough.

  “We didn’t come here to chitchat with you,” Mossy said, speaking for him. “Let’s do this.”

  Clint set the iPad on its side, landscape style, then pushed it further away so they could both see the screen. He tapped a few buttons and in seconds a face appeared.

  The Shepherd was nothing like Dre had expected. He was clean-shaven, with no distinguishing features except for a faint scar above his left eyebrow. Dre couldn’t tell whether he was tall or short. He couldn’t have been more average-looking.

  “Thanks for dropping by,” Shep began. “So what can I do for you?”

  Dre’s right knee began to bounce again and he could not make it stop. Keep it together, he told himself.

  “You know why I’m here,” Dre said. “Where is she?”

  “Safe and sound,” Shep said.

  “Where?”

  “With me.”

  “I want her back.”

  “Okay.” Shep yawned as if he was bored. “What are you prepared to pay?”

  “Pay? You must be out of your mind,” Dre seethed.

  “Temper, temper,” Shep said. “I’m a businessman and I’m here to conduct business. I need a return on my investment.”

  Dre looked at Clint, then at the bouncer, who took a step closer to the stairs as if signaling him not to do anything stupid. Dre noticed that a second bouncer had appeared.

  “What investment?” Mossy asked. “You kidnapped her.”

  “I’ve already put in time and money. If you want her back, it’s going to cost you twenty-five grand.”

  Dre made eye contact with Mossy.

  Hold it together, Dre told himself.

  “I ain’t got twenty-five grand,” he said.

  “Yes, you do,” Shep said from the screen of the iPad. “I understand that you were a pretty successful drug dealer, Businessman. Wasn’t that your name on the street?”

  “You must be crazy,” Mossy said. “You really don’t wanna mess with us.”

  Clint turned the iPad around, so that The Shepherd could see Mossy.

  Shep laughed. “So you’re threatening me?”

  “Yes,” Dre and Mossy said simultaneously. “We are.”

  “I don’t think you have anything to threaten me with. You ain’t going to the police because once they look up your sheet, they might just arrest you. So if you want your niece back, you need to figure out a way to come up with some cash. And if you are stupid enough to go to the cops, you’ll never see that little girl again. I promise you that.”

  “How do I even know you have her?” Dre asked.

  “Tell you what, give me a call when you get my money together and I’ll email you a picture. Will that work?”

  Neither Dre nor Mossy responded.

  “So how much time do you need to get my money. Two days? A week? The longer you take, the more johns she’ll have to service.”

  In an instant, Dre grabbed Clint’s glass and pounded it into the iPad, shattering the screen. By the time he reached for Clint’s neck, one of the bodyguards had dived across the table and pressed a gun to his head. Dre froze.

  The other bouncer had Mossy’s arms locked behind his back and was tugging him toward the rear of the club.

  With the music so loud and everybody’s focus on a different girl who’d taken the stage, no one seemed to notice the commotion. Not even Apache.

  “Get the hell outta my establishment,” Clint said, jumping out of the booth.

  “I’ma get Brianna back,” Dre yelled over his shoulder as the bouncer forced him out of the booth and in the same direction that Mossy had been taken. “And after I do, I’m comin’ back for your ass!”

  * * *

  Dre and Mossy were hustled past
the men’s room toward an emergency exit door. The two goons kicked the door open and hurled them into the alley.

  Mossy got to his feet and dusted himself off, noticing a big tear in the knee of his slacks. Dre landed on his hands and was bleeding from a piece of glass. He pressed his thumb against the cut in an effort to stop the bleeding.

  Dre slowly got to his feet. His body was so consumed with anger he could barely steady himself enough to walk.

  Neither man spoke as they walked down the alley.

  “We’re going to get her back,” Mossy said finally. “But these are some cold-ass cats.”

  “If we can’t get to The Shepherd,” Dre said quietly, “then I wanna take Clint down. Make him talk. He knows where Brianna is. We can get Shep’s ass later.”

  Mossy thought for a moment. “That might not be a bad idea. But we’re going to need some manpower to pull that off. And not your crazy-ass cousin.”

  This was the first time he’d thought about Apache since they’d walked into the club. He was probably inside getting a lap dance now.

  “I need you to get some guys together,” Dre said. “Call Gus, Terrell and Bobby and tell ’em the deal. I’ll call my brother too. Have ’em meet me at my place.”

  Dre pulled out his smartphone to call Apache, but it rang just as he was about to dial. The caller ID flashed Angela’s name. He didn’t want to deal with her right now, but answered her call anyway.

  “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Did you meet with The Shepherd?”

  “Naw. Just one of his guys.”

  “So did you find out any more information about Brianna?”

  Dre couldn’t tell Angela what he was about to do. She wouldn’t understand.

  “No,” Dre lied.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Me too.”

  They both held on to the silence for a few seconds.

  “I just spoke to Loretha,” Angela continued. “She’s willing to talk to you.”

  That news gave Dre a lift he desperately needed.

  “She’s sorry about putting that gun to your head, but she thought you were a pimp coming after one of her girls. She suggested that we meet at the Denny’s on Sepulveda. She can meet us in a couple of hours. “

  “A couple of hours? I don’t have that kind of time.”

  “The woman who helps her out at Harmony House won’t be home for a while,” Angela explained. “She can’t leave the girls there alone. Why don’t you come over here until then. Have you even had any sleep since this all started?”

  “I can’t sleep,” Dre said. “Not until I find Brianna.”

  Dre hung up and told Mossy about his plans to meet with Loretha.

  “I’m heading over to Angela’s,” Dre said, tossing Mossy the key to his apartment. “Call Apache and tell him what went down. Then I need you to round up the guys for a meeting at my place.”

  Chapter 41

  Day Two: 9:45 p.m.

  After making Brianna clean up the mess she’d made by puking all over the floor, Freda stormed out of the room. She’d returned two hours later and was still in the midst of her lecture.

  “You’re making this harder than it has to be!” Freda said, disgusted. “It ain’t that bad. You know how many tricks I turned in my day?”

  Brianna pressed her face into the mattress and sobbed. She was so afraid, but she would not let this evil woman know it. Her Uncle Dre was going to find her. She was sure of that.

  “I told you, I’m not being no hooker and you can’t make me be one.”

  Freda scowled at her. “Before you start professing what you will and will not do, you need to understand something. If you don’t start cooperating, your mother is going to get the same kind of beat down Clint gave you. Do you understand?”

  “You can’t do anything to my mother!” Brianna yelled. “My uncle will kill you!”

  “You don’t think so?” She crossed the room and retrieved a large leather bag from the bed and started fishing around in it. “I have another video for you to watch.”

  Freda pulled out her smartphone, hit several buttons and held it up for Brianna to see.

  “Pay close attention, little girl. I think there’s somebody on this video you might recognize.”

  The video was taken outdoors, during daylight hours. Brianna’s face went numb when she saw her mother leaving their house. They were watching her mother!

  Brianna felt something press hard against her chest and she could barely breathe.

  The camera moved in closer. Her mother looked so sad. As sad as Brianna felt right now. Brianna was certain she was about to throw up again.

  The camera followed her mother as she walked up Magnolia Street, past her friend Sydney’s house. She had a bag hung over her shoulder and she was holding it tight. When Donna got to the end of the block, she walked over to a thick telephone pole. She reached into the bag and pulled out a piece of paper and stapled it to the pole.

  There was suddenly sound.

  “Ma’am, did you lose your pet?” Brianna couldn’t see the male voice speaking to her mother and she had no idea where the camera was.

  Donna turned around and Brianna saw her mother’s sad eyes again. Brianna was so sorry that she had disobeyed her mother and gone onto Facebook. She’d always thought her mother was paranoid when she talked about child predators on the Internet. But her mother had been right. If only she had listened to her mother, she’d be home right now.

  “Somebody took my baby,” Donna sniveled.

  The camera moved closer and zeroed in on the poster. It showed Brianna’s most recent school picture.

  Tears streamed down Brianna’s cheeks now.

  “Ma’am, that’s a shame,” the male voice said. “Give me one of those posters. I’ll take a picture of it and have my son put it on his Facebook page.”

  Donna gladly handed him one. “I’d really appreciate that,” she said weakly.

  Her mother seemed to be in a trance. Without saying good-bye, she crossed the street and began taping another poster to another telephone pole. The camera followed her for a while longer as she walked down the street, stopping to put Brianna’s picture on a gate, a bus bench, even a city trash can.

  Freda shut off the smartphone.

  “One of Shep’s guys took that video,” she said. “He was the one talking to your mother.”

  Brianna felt like she was about to have a real asthma attack.

  “You see how close he got to your mother? He could’ve snatched her off the street easier than we snatched you. If you don’t start acting right, the next time we follow her, she’s going to get a beating worse than the one you got. I’ll show you that on tape too.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Brianna cried. “You’re evil!”

  “Don’t take it personal. This is all about the money. We’re counting on you to make us a whole lot of it.”

  Brianna could not let them hurt her mother. “If I do what you want me to do, can I go home?”

  “We’ll see,” Freda said with a wink. “But if you don’t do what we tell you to do, you won’t have a mama to go home to.”

  Chapter 42

  Day Two: 11:05 p.m.

  Dre and Angela had been sitting in a booth at Denny’s for about fifteen minutes.

  “You sure she’s coming?” His eyes had been pinned on the entrance from the second they’d arrived.

  “She’s coming,” Angela said. “Just relax. She probably had an emergency with one of her girls. If she’s not here in a few more minutes, I’ll call her.”

  Dre took a bite of the hamburger he’d ordered. He still had no appetite, but knew he needed to get something into his system besides caffeine.

  His eyes darted back to the door. “Is that her?”

  A petite woman with dreadlocks had just entered the restaurant. She was wearing jeans and a heavy military-type jacket. Angela held up a hand, waving her over.

  Dre couldn’t stop star
ing. He was both surprised and embarrassed that a woman no taller than Brianna had gotten the jump on him. He could tell that Loretha Johnson had been a very attractive woman in her day. He pegged her to be in her early thirties, but she had a frayed look about her. The streets had definitely taken its toll. It wasn’t just the crow’s feet or the coarseness of her skin. It was as if a bubble of exhaustion encased her.

  Loretha eased into the booth, placing Dre in the middle.

  She smiled sheepishly. “Sorry about our little confrontation. I’m like a mother bear when it comes to my girls.”

  “No prob,” Dre said. “I’m just glad that gun didn’t go off.”

  “I know how to handle a weapon,” Loretha said confidently. “The only way it would’ve gone off is if you’d tried something. I definitely would’ve shot you.”

  She turned to Angela. “I’m not supposed to have a gun in the house with the girls, but I’ve had a couple of pimps come knocking before and I refuse to go unprotected.” She smiled. “So, I won’t mention that little incident again if you don’t.”

  “No problem,” Angela said. “That’s enough talk about guns. We have a problem and we hope you can help.”

  After a waitress poured Loretha a cup of coffee, Dre began by telling her everything that had happened to date. He stopped short of mentioning his virtual meeting with The Shepherd, fearing that information would upset Angela.

  “I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare that won’t end,” he said.

  Loretha sighed heavily. “You are. What’s going on out there in the streets today is nothing like it was in my day. The girls are getting younger and younger. And now that the gangs are in on it, it’s big business.”

  “But how can they be bold enough to just snatch a kid off the street and turn her out without fearing that her family’ll come looking for her?” Dre asked.

  “The girls they typically target don’t have much of a family in the first place. How many times have you seen news coverage about a missing brown or black girl from Compton or Watts on TV? Our kids don’t get media coverage when they go missing. These girls are society’s throwaways. But I have to say that I am seeing cases where they’re snatching girls from nice neighborhoods who don’t fit this profile. The so-called guerilla pimps are getting bolder because the risks of getting caught are low and the financial rewards are extremely high. And then you have the romeo pimps who don’t have to snatch them. It’s easy for an impressive-looking guy all dressed up in jewelry and fancy clothes to gain a girl’s trust.”