by HD HOTEP
When the two of them reached Sadie’s Jag, Sadie caught Lacy glancing at her with an odd look in her eye. A fleeting expression that disappeared almost as quickly as Sadie had noticed it. The two of them got into the Jag and Sadie pulled off.
“Why didn’t you call?” Sadie asked seriously.
“After I couldn’t make bail, I just toughed it out. I’m not new to any of this stuff Sadie. I’m a big girl,” she said with a smirk.
“Were you questioned?” Sadie asked.
“You know I was. I told them that I was just tryin to make some extra money for myself. They pressed me to say some other shit, but I’m not going for that shit,” Lacy said. “They kept putting off my court dates, hoping I’d hate the jail so much that I’d start tellin them all sorts of shit. All I got was a fine. And the trick I got caught with paid it.”
Sadie knew Lacy had been held for a long time for a little caught-in-the-act freak session for money. She also found it strange that she hadn’t called anyone since May. These things she kept to herself.
“Have you spoken to Sandie?” Sadie asked.
“No, not since before I got knocked,” she said. “Why? Where is she anyway?”
“She no longer works for NuShu’s.”
***
Gabriel rode beside Sadie, stone faced and saying nothing. He hadn’t said a word since he’d picked her up in the Signature Series Lincoln, chauffeured sedan. He’d been staring straight ahead the entire trip.
Sadie didn’t mind his silence. She’d grown to nearly despise his conversation and him as a person in general. However, his silence was about as abnormal as a gold fish driving a school bus. She knew something was wrong. Maybe the stock market had crashed. Maybe he’d lost his entire life savings. Maybe he’d bet his private parts on a stock that had gone up in smoke, she thought with a smirk.
“What’s wrong Honey?” she asked, placing her hand on his thigh.
Slowly, he turned his head and gave Sadie a look of disgust before returning his gaze to nothing in particular in front of him.
“After dinner, I’d like to have a word with you,” he stated, robotically.
***
Gabriel slid the DVD into the player and stared at Sadie as the monitor came to life. The words ‘Ms Oktapussy’ displayed boldly on the screen. And soon, short excerpts of Sadie, at a much earlier stage in life, participating in numerous sexual acts with different men engulfed the screen. The cheap hook music characteristic of such movies blared into the room, followed by exaggerated moans by ‘Ms Oktapussy’.
Sadie sat watching the movie. It brought back many memories. She watched her much younger self in action, admiring her own work. Gabriel cut if off.
“What in hell is this Sadie? What on earth is this shit?” he roared.
Sadie glanced up at him from the love seat. Gabriel was certainly a character. She took in his contorted, old face. His obvious dismay. It was difficult for her to take him seriously.
“It’s pornography Gabriel. And why are you raising your voice?” Sadie asked, unruffled.
“I thought we had an agreement. Sure, you’re taking your sweet little time making up your mind, but I was under the impression that you were MY personal escort. You and me, Sadie. And you’ve got pornographic movies floating around? Old movies, new DVD’s? Who the hell are you, Sadie?”
“First of all,” Sadie said, rising to her feet, “you don’t take that tone with me. Second, your impression was wrong. And third, I’m a seasoned whore Gabriel. And I’m a damn good one. One who no longer requires the company of the likes of you. This ‘date’ is on the house. You’ll be receiving a full refund in the mail. Because it’s over as of this second.”
Sadie grabbed her Fendi hand bag and strutted toward the door.
“Get back here, you stinking little bitch,” Gabriel barked. “I’ll have your snotty little ass fired. Get back here!”
Gabriel didn’t pursue her. She left with her head held high.
“… They’re all tricks…”
***
Madelyn had yet to be found. Sadie didn’t know what to make of her disappearance. Cricket, Sadie’s ‘advanced porn’ connect, also had been missing in action for quite some time. And Sadie’s ‘thirsty’ clientele in that department were all over her like maggots on rotting flesh.
“Where are you Cricket?” Sadie asked herself as she was whisked from her production studio en route to NuShu’s Escorts, Inc. Lacy sat beside her in her chauffeured sedan. She stared at Sadie with a twinkle in her eye, a slight smile seconds from her lips.
“I’ve never seen you like this before Sadie. But I know that look,” Lacy said.
“Yeah,” Sadie said, lighting up a Virginia Slim. “It’s the look of stress and frustration.”
“No Sadie. It looks more like you’re in love,” Lacy said with a full blown smile now spreading her high yellow face.
Sadie stared straight ahead, then glanced out the window of the vehicle. She was afraid her facial expression would betray her. She’d been spending LOTS of time with Moe. She’d talked to him until 2AM the previous night. She’d begun calling more regularly and he’d begun to answer, even leaving her messages when she missed his calls. Her heart had begun to flutter at the thought of him.
“What are you talking about Lacy?” Sadie asked, an unconvincing serious expression on her blushing face.
Lacy just continued to smile at her friend. “Sadie… in love. That is truly amazing… Who, Sadie? Tell me.”
***
Sadie stepped into the Starbucks and took a seat. Soon, an unimposing gentleman took a seat beside her. Sadie breezed through a Vogue magazine for several minutes. The gentleman glanced through a newspaper.
“Cricket got into a shoot-out with the police not long ago. He was shot a few times. He’s on lock,” the gentleman said, his eyes never leaving the paper.
Sadie took in what she was hearing. She was still taking it all in when the gentleman got up and left.
Damn, Sadie thought. Now what?
Chapter 18
Enough
July, 2014
“I must be honest, I’ve only been here on two other occasion,” Sadie said, allowing her date for the evening to hold her limp hand.
She was dazzling in a white chiffon cafton with crystal beading by Naeem Khan, platform sandals by Jimmy Choo, and pearl Mise en Dior necklace and a silver of a watch by Cartier.
Sadie, Lacy, and Star made stunning, overdressed arm pieces for the three upscale and horny gentlemen they were escorting to the Kennedy Center on this evening.
“Well, you’re going to enjoy this,” Sadie’s date responded, his back stiffer than a concrete wall.
The title of the performance was French for ‘The Bat.’ And Sadie was already enjoying herself, the center of attention. She felt sexy, glamorous, like a local celebrity even. She’d been forced to sleep in filthy hallways as a child. Her mother’s death had never ceased to haunt her, and her mother’s teachings had never ceased to influence her behavior. She’d come so far from her meager beginnings that her past, though always a part of her, had become the equivalent of a fleeting dream upon awakening. Sadie was experiencing her personal American dream.
The small group ordered $10 finger sandwiches and equally overpriced drinks. Sadie indulged herself with a sparkling flavored water.
“There is a very touching part of this opera. And though it’s sung in Italian, you’ll still feel it. They put on such a sensational performance,” Lacy’s date added.
“I can’t wait,” Lacy said, eyeing her date seductively.
“I also can’t wait until the show is over,” he whispered into her ear, sparking a knowing giggle from Lacy.
“Beatrice Miller, Lacy Jackson, Star Hendricks! You are under arrest. Please don’t make any sudden movements. Keep your hands where we can see them… Excuse me gentlemen,” the FBI agent roared, quickly clutching the women’s wrists.
Several additional FBI agents stormed the lobby
of the Kennedy Center, closely followed by a few news reporters, startling the guests.
Sadie’s eyes grew huge. She gave the officers an indignant look. Lights flashed in her eyes and face as she and her companions were apprehended, cuffed, and swiftly ‘escorted’ out of the lobby, an agent on each side of each woman. Sadie held her head down as she was transported to the awaiting car in front of the Center, her heart pounding.
“You are under arrest for…”
***
The condos, the cars, the glamour, the top-of-the-line wardrobes. The money and the comfort, possibly gone within hours was a disheartening occurrence. It was painful, emotionally and mentally. Sadie had sat in her cold, filthy cell in the DC Jail wearing an oversized jumpsuit and Peter Pan slippers. She wore oversize ‘bloomers’ and a cheap used bra. It had been 3AM when she’d arrived in her cell.
She hadn’t been picked up by the police department, but the FBI, the Feds! She’d been interrogated, disrespected, stripped of everything, and thrown into hell. She’d received an indictment days later: 227 counts, including conspiracy to distribute illicit sexual materials, murder, rape, fraud, money laundering, RICO, and more. Beatrice Miller, AKA Sadie Whyte, was hailed as running the biggest sex for hire operation in DC’s history. Her bank accounts had been frozen. Her assets had been seized. And it had been made clear to her that there were over fifty informants ready and willing to testify against her in a court of law.
“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about,” she’d said during her initial interrogation.
“Tell it to the judge,” an agent had responded, staring at Sadie as if he’d like to spit in her face.
Sadie found that almost all of her ‘girls’ had been rounded up and incarcerated at about the same time. Currently, she sat awaiting the verdict of her bond hearing at the US District Court House.
“…granted,” the judge concluded.
“Objection! I object!” the prosecutor screamed.
“On what grounds?” Judge Wintry said, bored.
“This woman is accused of conspiring to have people murdered in the first degree, mass prostitution, and money laundering. Just these charges in and of themselves make it clear that she’s definitely a flight risk. She should be held WITHOUT bond, your Honor.”
“Over ruled. The nature of one’s charges alone does not necessarily constitute the risk of flight on that person’s part-”
“But, Your Honor-”
“That’s enough,” Judge Wintery exclaimed. “A one million dollar bond with an accompanying mandatory closely monitored house arrest.”
***
Sadie sat in her condo watching the news. An anonymous firm had paid her bond. She’d seen the headlines pertaining to her case. Her life had been shredded in what seemed to be moments. She saw the highlights of her life soaring through her mind like scenes from a box office smash. The laughter, the mock fame, the successes, and the failures. Her entire life had been a crime full of victims. She’d been victimized herself on many occasions. But the reality now became quite plain that Sadie was seen in the eyes of legitimate America as scum of the earth.
She sat, staring at the news, her eyes focused on things not on the TV screen.
“… You’ve got to understand, it’s all a game…”
“Sadie had grown tired of playing the games some time ago. It wasn’t all a game. And the one she’d been playing for so long hadn’t ended soon enough, it seemed.
“I want to be real with people… with myself…”
“…You got to pay to play baby…”
The selfishness of it all. The inconsiderate nature of her whole attitude. The things an intelligent, beautiful woman had chosen to do with her life, for a living. These things in light of Sadie’s current situation infuriated her. She stared at the floor, numb. Her phone rang, startling her out of her day dreams.
“Hello,” she said lifelessly.
“Hi baby,” Moe spoke into the phone.
“Moe,” Sadie answered, heart jumping. “What are you doing calling me?”
“Oooooooo, I see that beautiful smile through the phone. You know I’ll NEVER leave you, Sadie. I PROMISE you that,” he said with emphasis. “I love you, Sadie.”
“Oh Moe, I love you too. And even though the world knows my name is Beatrice, you insist on calling me Sadie,” she said, warm all over.
“You’ll always be my Sadie. I don’t care what they say about you.”
“Moe, you know all my calls are being monitored. And I don’t want them getting any ideas about you. Thank you so much for calling me. I love you, Moe. I always will,” she said, glancing downward.
“I’ll always love you too, Sadie. You’re not alone. Know that, OK. Be strong, Baby,” Moe said.
“OK,” Sadie said, tears welling up in her eyes before disconnecting the phone call.
Chapter 19
Queen Sadie
August, 2014
“Beatrice Miller, also known as Sadie Whyte, was believed to have run a multimillion dollar sex-for-hire organization. NuShu’s Escorts, Inc is believed to have trained its high-class escorts to solicit money for sex from its clients. The company charged an average of $2,500 to $8,000 per date and allowed its clients to write off such trips as ‘business expenses’, complete with ‘business related’ receipts. At its peak, the company allegedly made up to 200 thousand dollars per week.
Beatrice Miller was also implemented in the alleged mass distribution of the heinous ‘date rape’ and ‘snuff’ movies, where women were violated live on camera. The distribution of this illicit material allegedly netted Ms. Miller 250 thousand to 1 million dollars per quarter,” the anchor woman reported with what might have appeared to be glee.
“Well, this may appear to be a very intricately woven and complex case, but it’s not. It’s very cut and dry. First of all, Sadie Whyte does not exist. So, Ms. Miller passing for so long as this fictitious person tarnishes her credibility from the beginning. I think the prosecution may begin with such an obvious issue, since it can easily be related to by the public. Secondly, Ms. Miller’s background is wrought with aliases, fraud schemes, theft, prostitution; the list goes on. If certain people who were in the know were to tell the jurors what they know while under oath, I don’t believe Ms. Miller would stand a chance. That is, if of course, the allegations against her are ultimately verified and proven to be true,” a legal analyst stated, live.
“This is the absolute, most atrocious, heartless, and despicable kind of crime. Anyone who is capable of mass distributing the kinds of murderous filth that is on date rape movies deserves to be dealt with in the most serious fashion. People who are capable of involving themselves on any level with such society-destroying activities are unfit to be amongst those who’ve adopted American values. This type of material is barbaric, cold blooded and sick,” an activist stated.
Blurry scenes from the violent movies played repeatedly on TV sets across America. No news channel ignored the story of the ‘Notorious Sadie Whyte’. Her face wasn’t spared from any TV screen. Footage of Sadie’s initial arrest was imbedded into the public’s minds.
Sadie’s trips back and forth to court became media circuses, full of aggressive paparazzi and confusion. During such trips, Sadie was cursed. She received numerous death threats. People threw things at her.
“You dirty bitch!”
But ironically, she was also admired and even revered. She was idolized and praised. One of her earlier ‘Ms Oktapussy’ movies from 1995 went viral, selling 1 million copies and 2.5 million downloads. Her recent adult movies became collector’s items. A ‘Sadie Whyte’ sex toy collection sprouted from out of nowhere and blew up like the bank accounts of NuShu’s escorts at an earlier time. The AVN porn awards invited one of Sadie’s representatives to be presented with an award for XXXTra Productions’ hottest selling movie.
A group of men and women started a ‘Free Sadie Whyte’ campaign, quickly raising more than $150,000.
Sad
ie sat in her condo, staring at the card sent to her by Maurice Garrett. It was oversized and beautiful. Though Sadie had numerous cards all over her condo, this one, by far, was the most valuable to Sadie. It seemed funny how the tides had turned. Ironic the way things tended to happen. It was as if she’d been untouchable, invisible to the problems of the world. She’d never been caught for a serious crime in her life. But now, she couldn’t even comprehend the possible consequences of her actions. And the fact that she was sitting on enough cash to make millions of Americans smile, her hidden wealth would do nothing for her inside a Federal prison for the rest of her life. All her ‘girls’ were also in prison or on house arrest. Never would Sadie be able to maneuver through a crowd just another pretty face. She’d become a household name. The scourge of the escorting industry. The wicked witch of porn. And an idol to those who’d formed a cult around the allure of her very existence.
She stared at the card, wishing things had been different. Wishing she’d let it all go long ago. Wishing she’d learned how to live a ‘normal’ life. A life of “…throwing all that stuff on the floor, letting your hair down… Forgetting the makeup and material things… Just … really being you?” Sadie wished she’d learned such valuable lessons at an earlier point in time. She wished she’d met Moe years ago. She wished she could literally turn back Father Time’s ever ticking hands. But she knew she couldn’t.
Sadie smiled at the card, her mute television set bouncing numerous shades of light around her room. She glanced out her window, ignoring the hundreds of gifts lining her walls. She focused on the group of people marching to and fro in front of her home, picketing.
“She should not be free!”
“She should not be free!”
“She should not be free!”
And Sadie agreed with them when she really thought about it. Maybe I shouldn’t be free, she thought. She’d been violated in the worst ways during her youth. She’d witnessed her mother being violated in the worst way as a young child. And then, years later, she’d indirectly participated in the same types of activities. And she’d known better. She’d just been too greedy and self-centered to go with her first mind.