LUCY: The Complete Lucy Kendall Series with Bonus Content (The Lucy Kendall Series Book 5)

by Stacy Green

  The only way to find out was to ask Senator Coleman himself.

  18

  About thirty minutes away from the city, stately King of Prussia was close enough for the politicians to still call themselves Philadelphians but far enough away from the grit and grime to live the quiet life. The drive gave me time to get my raging thoughts straight and form a plan. I needed to stay on the Senator’s good side if I wanted his help. Going at him with anger and threats wasn’t the right approach. He’d want his power to be validated, respected. Sugar gets a person a lot more than spice.

  His office was on the second floor. The elevator ride seemed suspended in time, mocking me. Finally the gray doors opened with a ding, and I stepped into the Senator’s lobby.

  “Ms. Kendall.”

  Seconds passed before I remembered the aide’s name. I gave him the smile I knew men loved. “Jake. How are you?”

  He ran his hand through his hair, his embarrassed gaze flickering to his desk and back to me. “You remembered my name.”

  “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “A lot of people don’t,” he said. “Aides come and go. There are so many of us, we blend into the scenery.”

  Another bright smile and a lean on the side of his desk. “Sometimes that’s a good thing.”

  He looked as nervous as an ally cat. “So, uh, how can I help you Ms. Kendall?”

  “Please, call me Lucy. Is the Senator in?”

  Jake’s cherub lips hinted at a frown. “Well, yes, but you don’t have an appointment.”

  “I know.” I leaned forward as though we shared a secret, letting my hair fall around my shoulders. Jake blushed. “But he and I are working on something very important, and it’s vital I speak to him in person.”

  Jake glanced at his boss’s closed door. “I can ask if he’ll see you.”

  “Please.”

  He picked up the phone, still blushing to the roots of his hair. “Yes sir. Lucy Kendall is here. Do you have time to speak with her?”

  I leaned closely again, resting my hands on the desk. My hair brushed against Jake. Even his arms turned scarlet. “You were? All right. I’ll send her in.”

  He hung up the phone, smiling weakly. Poor kid probably spent his life feeling invisible. “He’s been expecting you. Go on in.”

  The door closed behind me with a loud click. Senator Coleman remained seated behind his impeccable desk. We eyed each other, the silence brewing tension until my chest felt like bursting.

  “What happened to the phone?” My calm tone did nothing to ease the intensity steaming the room.

  Senator Coleman sighed, reaching for a large, stainless steel coffee mug. Circles smudged the skin beneath his eyes. “Good question. Have a seat.”

  I wanted to remain standing, but doing so was a direct challenge that would force this man to look up to me as we spoke, a position he wouldn’t like.

  I sat.

  “I sent the phone to a former forensic computer specialist. He still consults for the state police, so he’s up on the latest technology.” Coleman took a drink of coffee and then glanced around the room. “I’m sorry, I haven’t offered you any. Would you like Jake to get you some coffee? It’s strong.”

  “No thank you. The phone?”

  “Yes,” he said. “I don’t understand all the technical details, but evidently a program was set to wipe the phone clean after too many login attempts. He was going to try to recover data from the SIM card, but then I received the phone call from Detective Beckett. I handed the phone over to them.”

  I tried not to let my anger bleed into my words. “I knew about the program, and we were able to get around that. I would think any computer specialist would be able to as well.”

  The Senator’s smile was wry. “You’d think so. At any rate, I did tell the detective you’d been to see me. Of course I couldn’t withhold any information from him.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. But because the phone is now worthless, I had to give him the name of the girl I intercepted at the Rattner. Without the phone, my story looks like bunk. But I really need to get to the girl first. I don’t want her to think I sold her out, and I’d like to prepare her for Detective Beckett.”

  I hoped staying on the Senator’s good side was worth the risk of sharing information. It was my best chance at getting inside information from his task force.

  “Her name is Riley, correct?”

  My mind turned into a white sheet.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not following you.” His attempt at humor fell flat. “My task force received a tip about underage prostitution at the Rattner Hotel, and one of the members was following up when he saw you speaking with the girl. He caught her first name and gathered she was part of a larger group. He also heard you give her your name. That’s the reason I took your original meeting.”

  “You told me you weren’t looking into prostitution.” Now the idea of Senator and Preacher choosing Ward 8 as a favorite place seemed even less coincidental. He’d known about me in advance. What else did he know?

  “We’re not. But like you, the informant thought there was more going on. You know how it works–a lot of these girls think they’re in love with this guy, he’s all wonderful. And then he either manipulates or forces them into sex for money, and after that he’s got them where he wants them. And the legal line between prostitution and trafficking can be pretty gray. But my guy’s been canvassing the area around the Rattner, and he’s got some leads.”

  “Why didn’t you give Riley’s name to Detective Beckett?”

  Coleman tapped his fingers on the steel mug. “I felt our task force could handle things better. You know the situation is delicate with these girls. Depending on the vice officer, at the very least, a threat of arrest will be made. She probably won’t give up the pimp, and going to jail won’t help her.” His oily smile returned.

  “That’s why I need to find her before Detective Beckett does. He’s a good guy, and he’ll try to do right by her, but it will only make the situation worse.”

  “That’s why I planned on contacting you,” Coleman said. “We’ve got a lead on where she’s at, and I think you can help us get close to her. The police might push her farther away, and that’s the last thing we want. This ring, however big it is, needs to be handled with absolute care.”

  I suddenly had the very unsettling feeling of pulling the string of Pandora’s box. “Why are you suddenly convinced this is actual trafficking and not prostitution? You said it can be a gray area when it comes to the law. Something changed, and I’d really like to know what. If we’re going to be working together, I think I deserve access to all your information.” The hypocrisy of my request almost made me smile.

  Coleman seemed to be deciding how much he wanted to share. “A tip came in. I was just informed about it yesterday, but a couple of days before you came to see me, a young boy no older than thirteen was seen arguing with Sarah Jones and an unidentified black male behind Exhale Salon. It was past midnight, the boy seemed very scared, and kept saying he wanted to go home. He was ushered into an SUV with the man and left. Sarah went back inside.”

  My heart hammered against my ribs. “Why didn’t the person call the police? Why didn’t you?”

  “At first the tipster thought she was making a big deal out of nothing. But when she couldn’t let it go, she decided to call us. She’s had some sour dealings with the police and decided the task force’s tip line was the better option.”

  I didn’t know if I was mad or understanding. As many issues as I had with our legal system, I knew most cops did their best to do the right thing. But their hands were just as tied by the system as everyone else’s.

  “The bottom line is that my task force and its officers have more outreach and more power than the police do,” Coleman continued, echoing my own excuses to Todd. Hearing them from him sounded far less convincing. “The FBI is slammed with more kinds of trafficking cases than they can count. The best thing for Riley and any
other children involved is for my people to find them. Bring whoever is behind this to public justice.”

  Bells clanged in my head. “You want the glory. This is a multi-state thing, probably the biggest uncovered yet. And you want to be the one who brings them down.”

  He shrugged. “Wouldn’t you? And it’s an election year.”

  No matter the good intentions, men like Coleman were politicians through and through. Not to mention his presence at the speakeasy and the ridiculous incident with the phone. I didn’t know if Senator Coleman was involved with the ring or operating with an agenda I’d yet to uncover, but I knew he wasn’t a man I could trust. “What about justice for Sarah?”

  “I’ve given the police everything pertinent to Sarah’s involvement, including your notes. And now they have Riley’s name.” A clang of disappointment in his voice.

  “I had no choice now that your people screwed up the phone.”

  “I’ve been told you have a rock solid alibi.”

  “You checked my alibi when you heard I was a suspect.”

  “I like to make sure my associates have clean records.”

  I let the information sink in. Exhale had a lot of powerful clients, one of which was clearly leaning on the Philadelphia Police Department. Senator Coleman’s name never appeared in the appointment book, but what about his wife? She was a highly successful commercial real estate broker, operating under her own name. I just couldn’t remember what it was. I’d have to get Kelly on it, but I doubted she could get into Exhale’s system now.

  Good thing I still have a copy of the key to the back door. I turned my attention back to the Senator.

  “Fine. But I need to find Riley and fast. Can you help me?”

  Ten minutes later, I walked out of Coleman’s office in a daze. The informant–a man the Senator assured me was a highly experienced member of his task force–would call me soon. Together we’d approach Riley. Apparently the informant hadn’t been able to get close to Riley, but he and the Senator believed that with my help, they could.

  “Are you all right?” Jake asked shyly. He reminded me of the geeky kid with the heart of gold who was always picked last for gym class.

  “Yes,” I managed. “Just processing some information.”

  Jake laughed. “Senator Coleman’s good that way. He likes to spring things on you. Like being thrown in with the wolves.”

  I tried to smile at the cliché, but it felt wrong. “That’s about how I feel.” I pushed the button for the elevator and willed it to hurry. I couldn’t make idle conversation.

  My feet couldn’t move fast enough when it finally arrived. “Take care, Jake.”

  “You too, Lucy.” He stood up from his desk, his expression tight with worry. “Remember the wolf likes to hide in sheep’s clothing.”

  As the elevator doors clanged shut I acknowledged the shiver trickling down my spine, filing Jake’s words into my growing concern about the Senator’s motives. I’d waded far too deeply into the web of suspicion to change course now.

  19

  I brought my gun to meet the informant. Senator Coleman had assured me this man was a retired law enforcement officer who knew his way around the streets and was very observant and careful. None of those things made me feel any better about sitting in a car for hours with a cop.

  John looked the part too. He didn’t give me his last name, his expression was permanently grim, and the stress creases in his forehead looked like craters. He kept the heater on and his knit cap pulled low over his ears, his coat zipped. Ready to jump out at a moment’s notice.

  After nearly an hour of silence with the exception of the occasional idle chit-chat, I was still trying to figure out who I was more leery of: the Senator with his agenda, the surly investigator sitting beside me, or Todd Beckett and whoever was breathing down his neck.

  “So you saw the exchange with Riley and the client at the hotel?” I broke the silence before my head burst.

  John gave me a cursory glance. “Yep.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  He expanded to an incredulous stare. “Really? Aren’t you a P.I.?”

  “Right.” Even my neck flamed. “You didn’t want them to see you.”

  “Smart girl.”

  Boiling with embarrassment, I tried again. “But Riley left when my friend showed up. Surely by then you knew I was on your side.”

  “I never count on anyone being on my side.”

  “Nice attitude to have.”

  “Keeps me alive.”

  I rested my head against the back of the seat and tightly crossed my arms, jamming my fists under my armpits. “Were you an undercover officer, then?”

  He jerked a nod. “During the nineties, yeah. Vice and narcotics.”

  “Police don’t rely on undercovers as much anymore,” I said. “Too expensive.”

  “Informants are better. A rat is a rat is a rat.” This time he attempted a grin.

  “After years of being on the good guys’ side, you don’t mind trolling with the rats?”

  “Not if it’s for a good cause.”

  We fell silent once more. I watched the street hoping for a sign of Riley. Parked in a strategic lot that gave us a nice view of both sides of the street, we were just a few blocks down from the Rattner and a two-minute walk to the subway station where she’d met up with Preacher. John had spent days following first Preacher’s and then Riley’s movements, resulting in our supposed prime position.

  “So how did you guys find out about Preacher?” I asked the question that had bothered me since meeting with the Senator. I had no intention of telling either man about my private conversation with Preacher or my invitation for a call girl tryout. The Senator informed me they believed him to be close to the head of the organization, and I admitted Sarah had told me as much. But that’s where I left it.

  “We got a lead on him a while ago.”

  He’d bite off his own tongue before he’d reveal his source, so I tried a different track. “What exactly do you know about the guy?”

  John’s mouth twitched, his eyes shooting to my side of the car before focusing back on the street. “His real name is Roderick Reed. Lives in a shitty place in Strawberry Mansion with his mother and another female believed to be his sister. No priors, which is shocking. Attended CCP for a semester and then dropped out and came back to the ghetto.”

  “Roderick, huh? No wonder he goes by Preacher.” Community College of Philadelphia had multiple locations and tuition was relatively affordable, but I wasn’t surprised Preacher had gone back into the Strawberry Mansion fold. It’s hard to escape when family is left behind. “Any idea where the nickname came from?”

  “Nope. Probably gave it to himself for some asshole reason.” John leaned forward and peered at the busy sidewalk. “That’s one of the kids I see with Riley a lot. He’s older and got a real attitude problem. The one in the blue cap.”

  Immediately I spotted the boy in the blue cap. “I saw him with Preacher in Strawberry Mansion,” I blurted out.

  “What were you doing in Strawberry Mansion?”

  My turn to smile. “I’ve got my sources too. He and Preacher and another kid were hanging out on a corner. Preacher wasn’t dressed in his business suit and tie. He was dressed like this kid, and he wasn’t the leader. The short kid was.”

  “Interesting.”

  “You have any idea who this boy is?” I asked as blue cap passed us.

  “No details. But I’m guessing he’s a P.I.T.”

  “A what?”

  “Pimp in training.”

  Two lives. Preacher was lower on the totem pole in his neighborhood, likely dragged back by family pressure or duties. He hadn’t been able to rise to a leadership position with the boys he likely grew up with, so instead he took one with the man selling kids for sex. Instead of being another wannabe tough guy waiting on a rap sheet, Preacher was a bona fide business man in a four-hundred-dollar suit and all the power he’d been denied by
his socioeconomic group.

  Two lives, two different roles. One very good actor. A spark of admiration dredged its way up for Preacher. He knows how to play the game.

  “When I first talked to the Senator, he didn’t seem as interested in what was going on at Exhale because it looked more like clear cut prostitution. What changed?”

  John pushed his hat back, revealing a large forehead and thinned hair. “Your intel was good. Matched up with a couple of other tips I’d received but hadn’t been able to act on.”

  “So what’s your take on this operation?”

  “Hard to say. Some of these kids, like this Riley, are probably runaways from bad lives. Preacher does what every pimp does: makes himself the hero and latches on to her. Maybe she says no to selling herself for sex, maybe not. But,” he glanced at me, “after the tip about the young boy behind Exhale, it’s looking like a lot more than local prostitutes.”

  “As if that’s a minor thing we should all ignore.”

  “I know it sounds shitty,” John said. “But we have to pick our battles, and after decades of watching these girls go back to their pimps no matter what I say or what a counselor tries to tell them, no matter what kind of shelter or safety we offer them, you get pretty jaded.”

  I craned my neck to see the boy disappear around the corner. “Where do they live?”

  “Isn’t that the big question?” John said. “I’d hope they were all together in some sort of subsidized place or maybe a hotel, but that doesn’t appear to be the case. I think they’re carefully parsed out. Finding a nest is looking like a small miracle.”

  “A nest? You sound like they’re parasites.” The term was better suited for the pedophiles paying to have sex with them.

  “Bad word choice. But it sure would make the job easier.”

  “How do you raid without going through the proper legal channels?”