Thread of Hope jt-1

by Jeff Shelby

  I held a hand up to him and turned to her. “I’ll be outta here in just a minute.”

  She nodded and disappeared.

  “I’m fine,” he said. “You can stay.”

  “Finish the story,” I said.

  Annoyance flashed across his face.

  “She was with some guy, older than both of us,” he continued. “There were drinks in front of each of them. He had his arm around her and she was trying to act natural, but you could see she was uncomfortable.” He stared across the table at me. “I knew it was one of two things. She was either dating this guy in some sort of weird-ass relationship or he was paying for her. It was obvious. Hotel bar, near the airport, you know what I’m talking about.”

  I did. San Diego wasn’t Vegas, but there was enough high-end prostitution to go around. Expensive hotels near the airport and downtown were prime targets and while maybe the men thought they were being discreet, anyone with a brain could add it up correctly.

  Chuck lifted one of his hands and flexed his fingers slowly, wincing. “They didn’t see me. So I walked around the bar-it was one of those square deals in the middle of the room-and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned around and nearly fainted. She couldn’t even speak.” He brought his hands back to the table. “The guy immediately panicked, couldn’t get away fast enough and I let him go. I walked Meredith outside.”

  “You let the guy go?”

  “I was more worried about her than some piece of shit john.”

  “Okay.”

  Chuck glanced at me, then continued. “I took her to my car and she cried for about fifteen minutes. When she was done, I asked her what the hell she was doing. It wasn’t a weird-ass relationship. He was paying for her.”

  My gut bounced. An eighteen-year-old girl turning tricks. She wasn’t some runaway or drug addict. Meredith was a kid from an unbelievably wealthy home with seemingly every opportunity in the world. It was ridiculous.

  “She told me about the dance from last year, that’s when it started,” he explained. “She said she didn’t intend for it to go beyond that one time, but it was a ton of money and whoever she’s working for kept pressing her into service. I’m not sure how, but I can imagine.”

  I could, too. Most threats would be enough to scare an eighteen-year-old girl into doing something she didn’t want to do.

  “I lit into her,” Chuck said. “I was furious. But all I was doing was scaring her more. I asked her a ton of questions, but couldn’t get much out of her. Whoever is controlling her has her wound pretty tight. I told her I was going to tell her parents and she just absolutely lost it. Worse than when we first walked out of the hotel. She begged me not to.” He looked away from me, taking a couple of deep breaths. “There was something in how upset she was. I’m not sure what it was. But it wasn’t just that she didn’t want me to tell her parents so she could avoid getting in trouble. There was something else there that I couldn’t get out of her. So I made a deal with her.”

  He took another deep breath and I could see he was laboring. “I gave her a week to get out and to tell her parents. I’d keep my mouth shut, but she had to get out. At first, she wouldn’t agree and I told her then that we were driving to her parents to tell them. Finally, she agreed.” A small smile appeared on his face. “And it was almost like she was relieved, like she was glad it wasn’t just her secret anymore and that she was being leveraged.” The smile evaporated. “So I drove her home. As she’s getting out of the car, she tells me thanks and makes me promise again. I promise again. She looks at me kind of funny, then says ‘No one’s ever kept a promise for me.’”

  His eyelids were sagging and I knew he was on the verge of drifting off. “I know how stupid it sounds, Joe. But that got me. I think there’s a lot of shit in her life and I was trying to be solid for her, be someone she could count on. Stupid.”

  I agreed. It was stupid. His heart was in the right place, but his head needed to be smacked around.

  “Three days later, I’m in here,” he said.

  “So why the fuck didn’t you say something when she started telling everyone you hurt her?”

  “Because I made her a promise. I told her a week and I meant a week.”

  I tried to hold onto my temper. “The second she lied about you hurting her, that promise was a pile of shit, Chuck.”

  He stared at me for a long moment. “Maybe. But you weren’t in the car with her. You didn’t see what I saw. My guess is that she did try to get out, that she told whoever she’s working for that she wanted out and he’s the one that beat the shit out of her.”

  “Even more of a reason for you not to have kept your mouth shut,” I said.

  “Maybe,” he said. “But I figured I could keep an eye on her while she figured it out. She named me for a reason. Because I was the only one who knew what was going on. She knew I’d keep my promise.” He stared at me. “I trusted her.”

  “Lot of good it did you,” I said, frustrated with him for far too many reasons to lay out right then.

  The door opened and the nurse came all the way in the room this time. “Sir, please.”

  I stood.

  “When did your seven-day promise expire?” I asked.

  He thought for a moment, his eyes closing. “Two days ago.”

  The day Meredith Jordan disappeared.

  SIXTY-THREE

  I was exhausted and wanted to go back to the hotel. The previous night with Lauren had drained me-both physically and emotionally. Seeing Chuck had emptied the reserves. I knew that returning to my old life would take a toll on me, but I had underestimated exactly how large the toll would be.

  But Chuck had filled in a couple of tiny blanks for me and I didn’t want to lose the momentum of having small pieces fall into place while the thoughts were fresh in my head. So I stopped at a gas station, grabbed some coffee, made a phone call to Gina and headed back to Rancho Santa Fe and the Jordan estate.

  Caffeine and adrenaline had my hands bouncing on the steering wheel as I was buzzed through the gate. I drove slowly up the winding road, formulating what I wanted to do. It was entirely dependent upon whether or not Gina had arranged what I'd asked for.

  As I crested the top of the road and pulled into the circular drive at the front of the home, I could see she’d done exactly what I’d asked.

  She was sitting on the steps of the Jordan home, along with Jon Jordan and my escorts from the first day, Hanley and Boyle. Jordan was pacing slowly behind her and Hanley and Boyle were perched on either side of her. They stood when I shut off the engine. I bounced my hands off the wheel one last time and got out.

  Jordan came down the steps immediately. “What the hell is going on, Tyler?”

  I came around the car and didn’t say anything.

  Hanley and Boyle slid into protective spots next to Jordan. They were about five feet from me. Gina stayed on the steps, watching.

  “I asked you a question,” Jordan said, his face flushing.

  I stood there, silent.

  Boyle took two steps toward me and pointed a finger at me. “Hey. Are you…”

  I grabbed his wrist, pulled him to me and brought my knee hard into his crotch. His mouth opened, but no sound came out and he sank to the ground. I bent his wrist straight back, felt it snap and dropped it.

  Hanley came up fast on my left, but I was ready. I stepped into him, blocked a punch and pivoted around him. I locked my arm tight across his neck, under his chin and wrapped my left arm tight around his head, as I spun us back to our original position.

  Hanley beat on my arms, but there was no strength behind the punches. Gina stood behind Jordan, making no move to come forward. I stared at Jordan as Hanley’s punches stopped hitting my arms and his body went slack. I held him up for another moment, making sure he was out, then dropped him to the ground.

  I hadn’t exerted much effort, but I was breathing hard, sweat soaking my back. My hands were shaking and I waited a moment until they stopped.

&nb
sp; “What the hell are you doing?” Jordan asked, glancing over his shoulder at Gina.

  “You sent them after Chuck,” I said. “They were the ones that put him in the hospital.”

  I didn’t need to see his reaction to know I was right. I’d pegged them from the moment they showed up at the high school. I’d placed Matt and Derek on my suspect list as well, but sitting with Chuck at the hospital that day, I knew that two high school boys weren’t capable of inflicting the kind of damage Chuck had suffered. Jordan had sent his two goons to do a job and they'd gotten it done.

  Boyle rolled over on the ground and tried to sit up. I planted my left foot and drove my right foot into his jaw. His head snapped back and thumped against the ground.

  Gina moved down the steps behind Jordan and I held up my hand. “Don’t, Gina. Or I’ll put you on the ground next to them. I’m done fucking around.”

  She stopped and stayed behind Jordan.

  I moved my eyes back to him. “Our deal has changed.”

  He glanced at his men on the ground, then back at me. “What?”

  “Deal’s changed. You’re gonna drop the charges against Chuck. Right now.”

  Anger fired through his eyes. “The hell I am.”

  “You’re gonna do it. Gina’s gonna drive you down to Coronado, you’re going to go into the station and you’re going to drop the charges.”

  The anger flared hotter. “We had a deal, Tyler! We…”

  “Had,” I emphasized. “Had. You tried to kill my friend, though you neglected to tell me that part when I signed on for this. So we had a deal. You still want me to find your daughter, you’re going to go drop the charges. Now.” I looked past him at Gina. “Olivia inside?”

  Gina nodded.

  I focused on Jordan again. “I’m going inside to speak to your wife while Gina takes you to Coronado.”

  Jordan’s anger was fully aflame now, his hands balled into fists so tight it appeared they’d been glued that way.

  “And before you say something stupid, let me lay it out for you,” I said, stepping closer to Jordan. “You refuse, I’m going right from here to the cops to tell them it was these two assholes that laid him out. Chuck’s awake and he I.D.’d both of them. No one is dumb enough to think they did it without your knowing, so you’ll go down with them. And I won’t spend another second looking for Meredith.”

  Jordan stood there, rigid, furious, unsure what to do. I let him think it out for himself. I knew that dropping the charges was no guarantee that he’d leave Chuck alone. In fact, I was certain he might make another run at him. But dropping the charges would buy me some time to demonstrate to him that Chuck hadn’t done a thing to Meredith other than attempt to help her.

  “What have you learned about Meredith?” Jordan asked through clenched teeth.

  “A lot,” I said, walking past him toward the house. “But I won’t share a single thing with you if you don’t get your ass in a car with Gina and go to Coronado.”

  “You work for me. I hired you.”

  “I’m working for Chuck,” I told him. “And Meredith. That’s it.” I stopped on the steps next to Gina. “I’m going inside to talk to your wife. If you’re out here when I leave, entire deal is off and I go to the cops. And you can find your daughter yourself.”

  Jordan stared at me, no doubt wishing he could get his hands on me. That would’ve been a mistake on his part. I held his stare.

  Gina descended the stares and whispered something in Jordan’s ear, her hand under his elbow.

  I went inside the home, leaving Jordan to make his decision.

  SIXTY-FOUR

  Olivia Jordan was sitting on a leather sofa in an expansive living room littered with expensive furniture. She wore jeans similar to the ones she wore the first time I’d met her and a red blouse with a wide collar and silver buttons. Her legs were crossed, the boot heel of the top leg bouncing as she paged aimlessly through a magazine.

  She glanced up when I came into the room and tossed the magazine on the sofa next to her, impatience and irritation mixing in an ugly way on her face. She held up a hand. “Here I am. Waiting for you as ordered.”

  “You were a hooker,” I said, sitting down in a chair across from her.

  The impatience and irritation disappeared quickly, replaced by embarrassment. “What?”

  “You fucked men for money.”

  She was rattled, throwing her eyes toward where I’d come from, probably wondering if her husband was coming in behind me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Seriously? That’s how we’re gonna play this? I’m gonna tell you the truth about your past and you’re gonna just sit there and try and look bewildered?”

  She blinked her eyes rapidly, the corners of her mouth twitching.

  “In Vegas,” I said. I picked up a marble coaster from the table next to me, rubbing my fingers along its smooth surface. “I don’t know if you were doing it elsewhere, but you were doing it in Vegas for sure. Don’t know if your husband was a client. Maybe that’s how you two met and…”

  “Stop,” she said.

  “…maybe he decided it was cheaper to marry you than pay for you on a nightly basis.”

  “Stop,” she said again, more force behind it this time.

  I dropped the coaster back to the table and she flinched. “And now your daughter has apparently picked up where you left off.”

  Her entire expression froze. I searched her face for some sort of recognition, some tic, some cue, that told me she wasn’t hearing that for the very first time.

  I found none.

  “What did you say?” she whispered.

  The question sat between us for a long moment.

  “Meredith has been working as a prostitute,” I said finally.

  She immediately shook her head. “Impossible.”

  “Nothing’s impossible.”

  “Meredith isn’t like that.”

  “Like you?”

  “She’s not at all like me, Mr. Tyler,” she said, her voice edged with anger.

  “Did she know about your past?”

  The anger faded and was replaced with hesitancy.

  “I can run down your history in Vegas if you want,” I said. “I got it from a cop. I know I’m not wrong.”

  She whispered something that I couldn’t understand.

  “What?”

  “Jon doesn’t know.”

  I stayed quiet.

  She placed her hands on her knees and for a moment, I thought she was going to vomit. But she took several deep breaths, staring at the ground before she looked at me again.

  “Jon doesn’t know,” she said. “I’ve never told him. I met him…” Her voice trailed off.

  I sat there, my mouth closed, watching her.

  “I met him after I’d already decided to leave…that life,” she said after a long pause. “I didn’t want to revisit it with him and I knew what he’d think.”

  “So you were done hooking when you met?”

  “He wasn’t a john, if that’s what you’re asking,” she said.

  “No, what I asked was if you were done hooking when you met?””

  She was trying to strike an indignant pose, but couldn’t quite put it all together. And I wasn’t entirely sure why I was pressing her as to how she and Jordan had met, but I felt like I was close to uncovering something I’d been looking for.

  She remained silent and that gave me my answer. “So you weren’t out of the game then.”

  “I was on my way out,” she said, averting my eyes.

  “Much easier to go out on the arm of a really rich guy, I’ll bet.”

  The anger percolated in her eyes again. “I love my husband. I always have.”

  “I didn’t say you didn’t.”

  “No, but I understand what you’re insinuating,” she said, her words hard and cold. She sat back in the sofa and folded her arms across her chest. “Of course it was easier to walk away with someone like Jon. But I�
�d already decided to leave. I don’t give a shit whether or not you believe that.”

  “And he doesn’t know?” I asked.

  “I’ve never said a word to him,” she said, her eyes slipping away from mine again.

  “Did Meredith know?” I asked.

  Her expression changed to something I couldn’t read. She looked down at her hands, as if the answer might be written on her fingers. Her fingers clamped tighter to her knees. “Yes. She found out.”

  SIXTY-FIVE

  “Some asshole at her school,” Olivia Jordan said, the words coming out of her mouth as if they were made of acid. “She came home and confronted me.”

  We’d sat in silence for about five minutes after she told me that Meredith had discovered her secret. Anxiety squeezed her face and I kept waiting for her to cry. But the tears never came.

  “A kid at Coronado told her,” I repeated.

  She nodded. “I was outside, planting flowers. I heard her car pull up in the drive. She got out of her car, walked right up to me and said ‘You were a hooker.’ Just like you did.”

  “Was she upset?”

  She thought for a moment, then shook her head. “Not really. I think she was happy to have something to hold over me.”

  “Who told her?”

  “She never said. But she had details that were about right, so someone did.”

  I wondered now if it was someone other than a classmate. “What details?”

  She snorted. “That I fucked men for money. Again, just about what you said to me.”

  I couldn’t tell whether she wanted me to feel guilty or whether she was just stating fact. I didn’t care. “You told me you were working at The Zenith when you met Jordan.”

  “I was.”

  “In what capacity?”

  She sighed, but it carried more irritation than weary. “In the capacity you’d think.”

  “So that was bullshit about how you met.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think you’d appreciate the nuance of prostitution when you asked me the first time,” she said, then waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Yes, I used to work in the hotel. I met him in the bar when I was having a drink.”