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

by Pamela Samuels Young

“I love you boy, and I’ve been praying to God that you don’t do something stupid and end up back in jail.”

  “I won’t, Mama,” Dre said.

  Not unless that’s what it takes to bring Brianna back home.

  Chapter 66

  Day Four: 10:45 a.m.

  Freda paced up and down the hospital corridor, her smartphone pressed to her ear.

  She was trying to reach The Shepherd to give him an update on Clint’s condition, but he was deliberately ignoring her calls. When Shep had called her earlier to report what had happened at the club, Freda couldn’t believe it when he started ranting about Clint being an idiot. This wasn’t Clint’s fault.

  A nurse walked past, looking her up and down. Freda was wearing a slinky, silver T-strap dress that looked more like a top than a dress. She wasn’t wearing a bra and her nipples stuck out like headlights. Her bright-blue eye shadow matched the large flower she’d pinned in her hair.

  “You got a problem?” she said to the nosy nurse.

  “Ma’am, we don’t permit cell phones in ICU.” The woman pointed at a sign on the wall.

  “I know that.” Freda shoved her smartphone inside her purse. “I can read.”

  A young Asian man in green scrubs approached from the far end of the hallway and slowed near Clint’s room. “Are you Clint’s doctor?” Freda asked.

  “Uh…yes, I am.” The man was having trouble keeping his eyes on Freda’s face.

  “Can you tell me how he’s doing?”

  “Are you a family member?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes. I’m his wife.”

  “Your husband suffered a very brutal beating. He uh…” The doctor seemed to lose his train of thought.

  Freda put a hand on her hip. “Can you please take your eyes off my titties long enough to tell me whether Clint is going to live or die?”

  The doctor’s face turned crimson.

  “Oh, uh…he’s got several broken bones and he suffered severe damage to his internal organs. He’s no longer critical, but still very serious. The police are going to want to talk to you.”

  Freda didn’t want nothing to do with the police. If they started sniffing around, they might stumble upon something they didn’t need to know. She had to leave before they got there.

  “Is Clint able to talk to me?”

  “I’m afraid not. He’s conscious but his jaw was broken, so his mouth is wired shut. And he really does need to rest.”

  “Can I see him anyway? I won’t stay long.”

  The doctor stole another quick look at her chest. “Uh, sure.”

  She entered the room and grew frightened by all the beeping lights. Clint’s face was a big, swollen ball. His eyes were bloody slits.

  “Oh my goodness!” Freda hadn’t been all that close to Clint, but she didn’t want to see him like this.

  She walked closer. “Can you hear me, Clint? If you can, just lift a finger.”

  Clint raised the index finger of the hand closest to her.

  “You’re gonna be okay,” she said stroking his head. “Shep’s gonna get whoever did this.”

  Though Brianna’s uncle hadn’t been one of the men who entered the club and kidnapped Clint, they’d known immediately that he was responsible. This was Shep’s fault as far as Freda was concerned. They should’ve given Brianna back the minute they learned about her uncle. Now they were in the middle of a street war. And for what? They had dozens of girls like Brianna.

  A single tear rolled from the corner of Clint’s eye back toward his hairline.

  “That little heffa,” Freda seethed through clenched teeth. “I hope Shep makes her ass pay.”

  Chapter 67

  Day Four: 11:35 a.m.

  Angela and Loretha sat in her office for over an hour, talking about Peaches and the other girls in the house, alternately laughing and crying.

  For the third time, Angela checked her smartphone, hoping Dre had responded to one of her many calls and texts.

  Loretha pursed her lips. “That’s a tough situation you’re in.”

  Angela nodded sadly. “I know.”

  “You’ll get her back.”

  “I certainly hope so because I don’t think Dre will be able to handle it if he doesn’t. If something happens to Brianna, he’ll kill Shep.”

  Loretha turned away and stared out of the window. “That might not be a bad thing.”

  They were both quiet for a long time.

  “I want to thank you again for your willingness to take Peaches under your wing,” Loretha said. “A lot of people tell me they want to mentor my girls, but few actually mean it.”

  Loretha stood up.

  Angela stayed put. “You’re putting me out? There has to be somebody else in this house I can mentor? Who else you got?”

  “You serious?”

  “As a heart attack. And I was serious about helping you start a mentoring program too.”

  Loretha seemed to be thinking for a minute. “I do have another girl who could use some mentoring. You briefly met her yesterday. She’s all bravado, but she’s nothing but a baby underneath. I see something in her that you may be able to bring out. She’s Latina, only fourteen. You game?”

  “Absolutely.” Angela hopped up from the couch. “Let’s go meet her.”

  They walked out of Loretha’s office and up the stairs. Loretha knocked softly on Carmen’s door, paused a second, then walked in without waiting for the girl’s okay.

  Carmen was sitting at a small desk, drawing on a scratch pad.

  “Carmen’s our resident artist,” Loretha bragged.

  The girl looked up at Angela, rolled her eyes, then went back to her work.

  “What are you drawing?” Angela asked.

  “My new house. The one I’m gonna have if I can ever break out of this prison.”

  Angela and Loretha smiled.

  “Angela’s your new mentor,” Loretha said. “I’m going to leave you two alone so you can get to know each other.”

  Angela sat down on the bed behind the girl.

  “So tell me something about yourself?” Angela began.

  Carmen turned around. “Look, I don’t even wanna be here and—”

  The girl took a long look at Angela. “Uh, I don’t mean to be rude or nothin’, but you look whipped. Your mascara is a mess. You been cryin’?”

  Angela stood and examined her face in the mirror on the back of the door.

  She tried to wipe the black mascara from underneath her eyes with her fingers.

  “Actually, I have,” she replied.

  Maybe if she showed her own vulnerability, the girl might open up to her.

  “So why you cryin’?”

  “One of the girls I was mentoring went back to her pimp. I was hoping I could help her see a different side of life.”

  The girl hunched her shoulders and turned back to her artwork. “Y’all need to understand that being in the life ain’t that bad. She’s probably like me. She’d rather be with her Daddy than be stuck up in here. It’s boring.”

  Angela knew that now was not the time to try to reason with the girl.

  “Also, my friend’s thirteen-year-old daughter was kidnapped by a pimp three days ago. We’ve been trying to find her.”

  Carmen turned around and faced Angela again. This time, her face showed sympathy.

  “See, that’s crazy. My daddy don’t do that. All his girls wanna be with him. He don’t be kidnappin’ nobody. Who’s her pimp?”

  “A guy they called The Shepherd.”

  Carmen’s young eyes expanded. “O-M-G! That girl is in big trouble!”

  Angela moved to the end of the bed, closer to Carmen. “You know him?”

  “I heard of him. One of my wives-in-law, Shareese, used to be with him. She ran away to be with my daddy. The Shepherd makes his girls work like slaves. All he cares about is money. My daddy never makes us do more than five or six johns a day.”

  Angela wanted to explain to Carmen the many reasons her dadd
y didn’t deserve her praise. But right now, it was more important to find out if she had any information that could help Dre find Brianna.

  “Yeah, I heard The Shepherd was hard on his girls,” Angela said.

  “Hard don’t describe it.”

  “Do you know where his girls live?”

  Carmen shook her head.

  “Do you think your—” she could barely bring herself to say the word, “wife-in-law Shareese could help us find out where The Shepherd’s girls live?”

  Carmen shook her head vigorously. “No way. We don’t never tell on our daddies. And anyway, Shareese said The Shepherd makes them wear hoods every time they leave the house. They don’t even know where they live. The Shepherd is rich. He has lots of houses and he moves his girls around so the po-po can’t catch ’em. Y’all just better find her before he breaks her down.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Carmen tapped her index finger against her temple several times. “Get in her head. Your daddy knows how to get into your head and make you loyal. Once they do that, you don’t never want to leave the life.”

  Angela swallowed. This world seemed so unreal. She was sitting here talking to a fourteen-year-old about a pimp. Her eyes moistened at the thought of Brianna, a child she’d never met, being repeatedly raped by grown men.

  Carmen noticed Angela’s tears and seemed to soften a bit.

  “I know one way you might be able to find her,” Carmen said empathetically.

  Angela wiped her face with a tissue from her purse. “How?”

  “Just make a date.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Everybody know The Shepherd don’t have his girls walking the track unless they mess up or mouth off. That’s why they think they’re better than everybody else. Shareese told me he own his own motels in the Valley. His girls just be in the rooms waiting for the johns to show up. He do everything on the Internet. My daddy don’t know how to work a computer that good, but he said he might try to learn one day.”

  “So how would I go about making a date?”

  Carmen huffed in exasperation. “Just go on MyBackPage.com.”

  “What’s that?”

  “You really are clueless. It’s an Internet site where johns go to make a date. A dude can put in the city and get a list of girls to go on a date with.”

  Angela was stupefied.

  “They pay the money on their credit card, then go to the motel and have their date.”

  Angela could feel her pulse start to race. “But how would I know I’m getting one of Shep’s girls?”

  “Cuz he got his brand tattooed on his girls.”

  “Do you know The Shepherd’s brand?”

  “It’s the letters S and H with a dollar sign.”

  Angela snatched her purse and pulled her iPad Mini from her purse. Her hands shook as she typed in the letters of the website. It seemed to take forever for the page to load. Angela’s shock intensified as she realized what she was looking at. The site did indeed advertise girls for dates.

  Carmen had joined her on the bed and was looking at the screen too. “If you see a girl’s body and her face blurred out like that, it means she’s probably under eighteen.”

  Angela’s mouth fell open as she scrolled through screens and screens of girls with blurred faces.

  How could this be going on?

  “You can’t put in no age or nothin’. But say you want somebody with long hair or big tits, you can search for that.”

  Angela doubted that she would be lucky enough to find Brianna on this site, but if she could identify one of The Shepherd’s girls and make a date, that might lead them to the location of one of his motels, and possibly, Brianna.

  This seemed so incredibly simple. If this fourteen-year-old knew this, why didn’t the police?

  “Just put in L.A. and look for one of the young girls with The Shepherd’s brand and make a date,” Carmen directed her. “He might have her working at his motel tonight.”

  Carmen had no idea how valuable this information was.

  “Y’all coulda found her a long time ago,” Carmen said. “All you needed to do was make a date.”

  Still stunned, Angela stared at this womanly child and shook her head.

  Out of the mouths of babes.

  Chapter 68

  Day Four: 12:10 p.m.

  The Shepherd finally took Freda’s call giving him an update on Clint’s condition. He listened, expressing no sign of emotion or concern.

  “I don’t care whether Clint lives or dies,” he said coldly, when Freda had finished. “He betrayed me with his stupidity. Just make sure that girl is on lockdown.”

  He hung up without saying good-bye.

  The events of the last few hours were not reason for alarm or panic. They dictated calm deliberation. Fools and amateurs panicked. He could not run successful operations by freaking out at the first sign of a glitch.

  The Shepherd could not deny, however, that Andre “Dre” Thomas was turning out to be a much bigger problem than he had anticipated. It wasn’t often that The Shepherd underestimated his opponents. Few had ever challenged him over the years. It was his fault for becoming lax, for handing his operation over to men who did not have the appropriate mental acumen. He would fix that.

  The Shepherd showered and dressed in black slacks and a white Polo shirt. Black men in the hood were always complaining about being hassled by the cops. If they didn’t want to be harassed, then they shouldn’t dress like hoodlums and speak as if they’d never gone to school.

  Standing in the foyer of his great room, Shep surveyed his magnificent surroundings. His intellect and drive had earned him millions. He would not lose this. He would not lose his freedom. He would fix this problem.

  He walked outside and spotted a large Italian who was pretending to paint his home. He was actually a bodyguard The Shepherd had hired just in case Andre Thomas was foolish enough to actually come to his neighborhood. He couldn’t believe Clint had actually given up his address.

  The Shepherd waved to his neighbor.

  “Good afternoon, Bill,” he said to the lawyer who was finishing his mid-day walk.

  “Hey, Rodney,” Bill called back. “Beautiful day in paradise, isn’t it?”

  The Shepherd laughed. “Yes, indeed.”

  Sliding behind the wheel of his Bentley, The Shepherd headed for City Stars. It was over an hour before he arrived at the club. The Shepherd reminded himself to keep his emotions in check once he got inside. A true leader never lost his composure.

  It was well past the lunch hour, but the club was still packed with businessmen. At this time of the day, his clientele was mostly white and Asian. These men had jobs that did not require them to punch a time clock. By evening, the club would be all black.

  The Shepherd stopped to admire the new girl on stage. He would definitely have to try her out.

  He ascended the back staircase to his private office on the second level. He had not taken the time to greet any of the workers whose bills he paid, though they all smiled his way. They knew he was the owner, but little else about him. He preferred it that way.

  Large followed him into the office and closed the door. He waited in silence as The Shepherd settled into a red leather chair behind a massive, black lacquer desk. Shep steepled his fingers, then looked up at his underling.

  “How did this happen?”

  “Uh...the dudes weren’t even carrying. They grabbed Clint and dragged him out the back door before anybody even knew what happened.”

  “How many bouncers work here?”

  “Four.”

  “And where were they?”

  “Two dudes started fighting. Everybody went to deal with that.”

  “And who do you think set up that fight?”

  “I…uh…” Large’s vacant eyes indicated that he’d just put two and two together.

  A warrior must take the blame for the mistakes of the weak.

  “Never mind.” The Sheph
erd inhaled. “You can leave.”

  He would deal with the inadequate security of his operation after he had discussed this problem with the one person who was ultimately responsible for this entire ordeal.

  The Shepherd took out an untraceable cell phone and dialed.

  “You’ve created a tremendous problem for me,” were his first words to the man. There was no need for introductions or niceties.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The last girl you gave us did not fit my criteria.”

  He could sense the man’s nervousness through the phone line.

  “Her uncle is causing problems for me. And if he’s causing a problem for me, he’s also causing a problem for you.”

  The Shepherd’s operation had worked smoothly up until now because he targeted the right girls.

  The man finally spoke. “She did fit the criteria. She didn’t have a mother or father in the picture and lived with her grandmother. I didn’t know about her uncle. It wasn’t my job to check out the whole family tree.”

  The Shepherd’s teeth clenched at the man’s lack of respect.

  “You must be more careful in the future.”

  “You’re going to keep my name out of this, right?”

  Shep chuckled. He was surrounded by weakness.

  “Just send the girl back home,” the man said. “Leave it at that. We have others in the pipeline.”

  “Maybe you should send back that thousand-dollar finder’s fee I paid you.”

  That suggestion was met with silence.

  “I just don’t want any trouble. Everything has been running smoothly. Just give her back.”

  “You must be more careful in the future,” The Shepherd admonished him. “For your safety as well as mine.”

  Chapter 69

  Day Four: 3:30 p.m.

  Bonnie remained in her classroom after the ending bell, hoping to get a few papers graded. She couldn’t concentrate, however, because her mind kept wondering what she was going to stumble onto when she walked into the administration office.

  She eyed the clock on the wall at the back of the classroom. Chiquita had been on the job for about thirty minutes. Now would be a good time to find out what kind of work Chiquita was really doing.