by Paige Dearth
Lorraine slumped in her chair. “How do you know none of the girls are Maggie? Did you ask them? Maybe she’s been brainwashed to lie!”
“I know because all of the girls are either Latino or black. There weren’t any white children recovered from the home,” Rae said in an even voice. He knew how Lorraine tortured herself over the possibility that Maggie was still alive. He always made it a point to be sensitive when supplying information to her.
“Oh. Where was the house?” Lorraine asked sadly.
“It was in North Philly. They’re still holding the girls at the police station. I’ve been told they’re all in their early to middle teens. There were four men in the house when they busted in, and they’re all being held for questioning. From the information they’ve gotten from the girls so far, it sounds like these are the four men who forced them into prostitution.”
“I hope all of those sick bastards burn in hell. Is there anything we can do to help?” Rob asked.
“Well, actually, I was thinking that if I can swing it, maybe you could talk to one or two of the girls they rescued. They may be more inclined to tell the parents of a missing girl what they know than they would be to talk to the police. Do you think you’d be up for it?” Rae asked.
“Why us? I mean, talking to the families is one thing, but talking to these poor, innocent girls seems a little out of our league. Were just regular people. How would we know what to say?” Lorraine asked nervously.
“Think about it. Let’s say someday we find Maggie. We know she would have information that could help other people. You would know what to ask her. You’ve been at this for a long time, and from where I sit, there aren’t any other parents who have been as involved as you two have been,” Detective Harker explained.
“He makes a good point, Lorraine.” Rob slid his chair over and put his arm around his wife. “What if we can save just one other child? What if another couple could do what Rae is asking us to do and they said no? Wouldn’t you want them to try if it meant finding more kids? Maybe even our own child?”
Tears dripped from Lorraine’s chin, and she wiped them with a new sense of bravery. “OK, fine. We’ll do it. I just hope we find out something that’s going to help,” she told them.
“Good! I’ll make some phone calls and give you a buzz in the morning,” Rae said. He rose and shook hands with both of them. He pulled Lorraine into him. “If I can make this happen, you’re the one person I think can make a difference. I wouldn’t have asked you if I didn’t believe that,” he assured her.
Lorraine was the kind of woman that people trusted. Her genuine and candid nature made her likeable and easy to engage. She had been great with the families of missing children. She gave them hope for a successful recovery. She was a natural at helping people learn to cope. Lorraine was oblivious to the comfort that she gave to the other parents. But Rae Harker knew all of this about Lorraine.
Lorraine’s unrelenting belief that Maggie would come home made all the difference. Rae just hoped that one day he could make Lorraine’s dream come true.
Chapter Eighty-Three
Two days later, Rob and Lorraine drove to the Philadelphia police station in Center City. Only one girl was willing to talk to the Clarkes. Lorraine’s nerves started to get the better of her when a fifteen-year-old Latino girl walked into the room and sat across from them. The first thing Lorraine noticed was how old the girl’s eyes were. It was as if she was staring into the eyes of a sixty-year-old woman.
“Hello. I’m Lorraine, and this is my husband, Rob.”
“I’m Crista,” she announced. “The police said you wanted to talk to me.”
There were several moments of uncomfortable silence as Lorraine and Crista watched each other closely.
“Your turn to talk,” Crista told her with an attitude.
Lorraine smiled at her warmly. “Well, Rob and I have a daughter named Maggie. She was taken from us over five years ago. We talk to a lot of other parents whose children are missing. I thought maybe you could tell us something that would help us find our daughter.” She smiled as she watched Crista soften just a tiny bit.
“Like what?” Crista asked.
“Well, like maybe you know of other places where girls are being kept and forced to…” Lorraine’s voice caught in her throat.
“Forced to have sex with a bunch of disgusting slobs? You can say it. I’ve been doing it for three years now. I don’t have anything to hide. In fact, I’m good at it,” Crista said.
“Well, I’m sure you did what you needed to do to survive. I respect you for that,” Lorraine told her.
“Oh yeah? You respect me for spreading my legs and giving sloppy blow jobs?” Crista taunted.
“I respect you for doing whatever was necessary to live through your ordeal. Look, nothing you can say will shock us. I understand you’re angry, and I don’t blame you. But we’re angry too. Somewhere out there, our child may be doing the same things you had to do. We just want to help,” Lorraine said in a raised voice. She was beginning to lose her cool.
“Oh yeah? So you’re saying that if your kid comes home, you’re not gonna care about all the shit they made her do? Humph. Bullshit. I never thought my parents would care, either, but I see the way they look at me. I know they hate me now,” she said, her voice rising.
“That’s not possible. A parent can’t hate their own child for something that’s not their fault. I’m certain your parents love you. They’re just confused. It’s hard to imagine someone doing horrible things to your kid. Maybe you have to tell them what you need. What you lived through is unthinkable, and this is in no way a comparison, but it’s not easy to be on our side, either. We sit and pray and wait for news that never comes…”
Lorraine broke down and bawled. Sobs racked her body.
“Is she OK?” Crista asked Rob.
With tears streaming down his face, Rob turned to Crista. “You’re the closest we’ve come to knowing what it would be like to find our own daughter. We were hoping you might be able to help. That’s all,” he explained gently.
Crista sat back in her chair and watched carefully. She wanted to be 100 percent certain that this lady wasn’t fucking with her. Crista and the others had been saturated in paranoia by their pimps. They were always on the lookout for someone trying to set them up and get information they shouldn’t be giving. It was ingrained in her—in all of them. When she was certain, she finally spoke. “OK, so you said your daughter’s name is Maggie, right?”
Lorraine’s head popped up as if she were a turtle coming out of its shell. “Yes, why? Do you know her? Have you seen our daughter?” Then Lorraine reached into her purse and pulled out a picture of Maggie for Crista to look over.
“Nah. I never saw her. But before they moved me to North Philly, they kept me in a house in Camden. There was chick there named Shana. I got pretty close with her, and she was always ranting about some chick named Maggie. She lived with her in Pennsylvania or some shit like that. She said Maggie was kidnapped from some mall. Is that your daughter?” Crista asked.
Lorraine nodded sadly. “Yes, it is. We knew she was held here in Pennsylvania for a while. The police had arrested your friend, Shana, and found out that they had been held together at some point,” she confessed.
“Well, did you know that Shana thought Maggie was special? Bitch was all kinds of jealous of your kid. Apparently, Maggie got the attention of some guy named Myles, who ran the place. Soooo, he dumped Shana and made Maggie his new girl,” Crista said, as if it was completely normal and she thought the information would make the Clarkes feel better.
Rob’s hands were on his lap under the table, and he instinctively curled them into tight fists. It was incomprehensible that some man had made Maggie his new girl. She was only a child. In the meantime, Lorraine made a mental note. Myles was a name she’d give to Detective Harker.
“We didn’t know this, Crista,” Lorraine finally said.
Crista felt the sadness and l
oss of the two grown-ups who sat in front of her. They really did love their daughter; that was clear to her. So she decided to continue. “Well, from what Shana told me, Maggie was one strong bitch. She would read all kinds of books some perverted doctor would bring her. She helped Shana out a couple of times when her customers hurt her real bad. Anyway, Shana said all the other kids loved Maggie. I can’t remember their names, and she talked mostly about Maggie anyways, ’cause even though she said she hated her, I could tell she liked her too. She was just jealous that she wasn’t as smart as Maggie.”
Crista watched as Lorraine and Rob sobbed for the child they loved. Finally, unable to remain silent, Crista blurted, “The last time Shana saw Maggie, she was still alive. Who knows? Maybe she still is.”
“You’re right, Crista. Maybe she is, and someday she’ll come home to us just like you’re home with your parents,” Rob offered.
“Yeah, maybe she’s out there somewhere. Hey, do either of you have a cigarette?”
“No, we don’t smoke, and you shouldn’t either,” Rob added.
Crista looked at him with an amused grin, and he realized how stupid it was for him to scold her for smoking after all that she’d been through.
“I’m sorry, Crista. I don’t mean to preach. It’s the father in me,” he said softly.
“Yeah, I get it. Anyway, is there anything else you wanted to talk about?” Crista asked.
Lorraine shook her head and pulled herself together. “Nope, not right now. But if anything comes up, could we get in touch with you?”
“Sure. My parents said it was OK for me to talk to whoever I needed if it helps put this thing behind me. Ha! They don’t know shit if they think I can put something like this behind me. It’s a part of me now. You know, after a while, it doesn’t seem so bad to be a whore. Guys used to pay a lot of money for me—not that those assholes ever let me keep any of it. Anyways, do you think you could give me your phone number? I kinda like talkin’ to you guys. Maybe you can give me advice on how to handle my parents. I mean, they think I’m the little girl I was before I disappeared. I ain’t nothin’ like that person. I had to leave her far behind if I wanted to live…” Crista’s voice trailed off as she thought of the pretty, sweet girl she once was.
By the time they rose to leave, a bond had formed. Each of them walked away with new insight. As Lorraine walked out of the police station, she touched the small piece of paper with Crista’s phone number on it.
Right before Lorraine got into the car, she turned to Rob. “If Maggie ever comes back to us, I don’t think she’ll be the person we knew. Crista has helped me to see how all the corruption and exploitation changes a child. We need to do more, Rob. We need to start helping these kids make their way back into society. There has to be more we can do.”
Chapter Eighty-Four
Seth felt like he was living in a dream. He had been living with Juju for almost six months, and Maggie was there whenever she wasn’t working, which made him feel as if she lived there too. He and Joey had become close friends.
Seth was working for Rock, and all the exchanges of money and drugs were coordinated through Juju. After a couple of months, Juju talked to Rock. “So, we need you to give Seth some money for his work. I mean, I can’t afford to pay for everything. Maggie chips in a little, but you know Armando is tight with his allowance to the girls,” Juju explained.
“We didn’t have no deal on the boy getting paid. You and Maggie should’ve thought about how you were gonna feed him before ya cut a deal. So, I ain’t cuttin’ no deal wit’ cha now,” Rock told her. “I don’t care if that little shit stain starves to death. He ain’t my problem.”
Juju wasn’t surprised by Rock’s response; she’d expected as much. Plan B was for Maggie to find out if Armando would increase her allowance a little. Maggie wasn’t looking forward to asking him, but she figured it was worth a try. Maggie approached Armando on a rainy Thursday morning. “Hey, Armando,” she sang in a sweeter voice than normal.
“What the hell do you want?” Armando asked defensively.
“I wanted to talk to you about my allowance.”
“What about it?”
“Well, I was wondering if you could increase it. I need to help Juju out with some of the expenses for Seth,” she said honestly.
“Ha! You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me, right? Get the fuck outta my face before I knock the shit out of you. I don’t care about Juju and that little asshole kid of yours.”
Maggie remained silent and angrily left the house. When she walked into Juju’s apartment fifteen minutes later, the two girls looked at each other, and Maggie shook her head.
“You know what? This is a bunch of bullshit,” Maggie said, stomping her foot. “We’re making these jerks a lot of money, and they won’t share any of it with us. This is really pissing me off.”
“Yeah, I agree. We know Rock isn’t going to give me a bigger cut of the profit from selling, and I can’t charge more for my dope to keep more money ’cause I’ll price myself out. My customers will buy from someone else,” Juju said thoughtfully.
Then an idea began to form in Maggie’s head.
“That’s it! I know what to do. I’ll turn a couple of extra tricks a week and just keep the money. You know, nothing big, just two or three tricks would give us enough money,” Maggie said with confidence.
“Um, yeah, that sounds like a shitty idea. Do you know what would happen if Rock ever caught you doing that? It’s happened before, and he found out about it. The girl disappeared, and we never saw or heard about her again. That’s too risky. There’s no way you’ll keep it a secret. They have a lot of people who work for them, and you never know who’s watching you,” Juju warned.
“I would never tell anyone, so there’s no way Rock would ever find out. That girl must’ve told someone what she was doing, and that’s how she got caught. I mean, the new girls would never get away with it, but Armando only cares that I meet my weekly quota. I think the risk is low. We both keep our traps shut, and no one knows any different,” Maggie persisted.
Maggie felt an obligation to Seth, and it was her intent to keep him safe, fed, and loved, just as she had promised him. If it meant taking a small risk to earn a little extra cash, then that’s what she’d do. She told herself that it wasn’t like she was stealing from Armando. After all, it was her body being sold and her skill earning the money. The way she saw it, she was the one who was being robbed, not Rock or Armando. With her mind made up, Maggie assured Juju that everything would be fine.
That very night, Maggie sold herself to one more customer before finishing her shift. When she was done, she went to Juju’s apartment and gave her the thirty dollars. Then she walked back to the house of whores to give Armando her earnings. He took the money and counted it in front of her, something he did routinely with all of the girls. Content because Maggie had earned her quota, Armando walked into the room where the other men sat drinking and smoking.
Well, that was easy, Maggie thought as she stretched out in her “spot” on the dirty living room carpet. Piece of cake.
During the months that followed, Maggie turned a couple of extra tricks each week. This made her capable of earning enough money to help Juju with the expenses. The two girls even were able to stash away a bit of money for the future. Everything seemed to be working as planned, and Maggie was proud that she was able to help all of them.
One Sunday afternoon, while they were eating Chinese takeout in Juju’s tiny apartment, Maggie talked about expanding her profits.
“Look, Juju. No one is even noticing a couple of times a week. It’s really simple; if I just turned one extra trick a day, it would give us extra money. We could save it all and someday get the hell out of this rotten place. No one has noticed me doing it so far, and they’re not gonna notice if I do a couple more,” Maggie explained.
“What happens if you get caught? Huh? What will happen then?” Juju argued, with no chance of winning.
“I w
on’t get caught. I have it all figured out, OK?” Maggie insisted.
Maggie truly believed she could do it without anyone noticing. But Maggie was dead wrong.
Chapter Eighty-Five
Maggie was turning an extra trick every day and, as a result, the girls were able to save a little money. They were even able to buy Seth some secondhand clothes dirt cheap. It was on Maggie’s birthday, when she went back to the house of whores wearing jeans and boots that Juju had bought with some of their savings, that Armando became suspicious. The men who ran the house never gave the girls enough money to buy things on their own. Clothes were bought at rock-bottom prices when the men decided that a few new items were necessary to keep the customers attracted.
Armando may not have noticed had it not been for the younger girls ogling and commenting on the new items Maggie was wearing. But the real giveaway was that Maggie tried to downplay the gifts. Armando pretended not to notice Maggie secretly hushing the others. He knew something wasn’t right, and it all added up to another deception by Maggie. The next evening, Armando secretly followed Maggie. He watched her take johns back into the tall grass of the open field, and he counted them. When she came home that night and handed him her earnings, she was one trick short of his count.
Armando spent the next week watching and counting until he was sure about what Maggie was doing. Only then, did Armando have a private sit-down with Rock. He told him everything he’d found out.
“We can’t have this shit goin’ on. The others will catch on, and before we know it, they’ll all be scammin’ too,” Armando said. “I think it’s time we talk to some of your associates. She’s young enough that we can still sell her or maybe even get a good swap for her.”
“Yeah, that’s not a bad idea,” Rock agreed. “We can’t be havin’ this bitch stealin’ from us. Besides, she’s marketable. I just need some time to get everything hooked up. In the meantime, keep your eye on her.”
As Rock drove back to his house, his thoughts were racing, and he was furious that Maggie had deceived them once again. He’d already given her too many chances. The time for her to go had arrived. Before Rock went into the house where Thelma and Joey were waiting for him, he thought, after I eat dinner, I’m going to make a call to New York; see what that bitch, Maggie, is worth.