by Toni Blake
All four girls in the group exchanged looks, and Jake thought, Pay dirt.
Finally, the blonde spoke. "We haven't seen Tiana for a long time. And as for Raven, she's ... uh ... down on her luck right now." She lifted a hand to his shirt collar. "But I'll take real good care of you."
He sighed, trying to be patient, then dug for more information. "Raven's down on her luck how? 'Cause I'd like to help her out—if you can tell me where she is."
The tall girl sighed. "Look, Raven's on the street, man. Used to share a place with some girls we know, but they kicked her out. She's in a bad way."
Merde. "Any idea where she might be?"
She shrugged. "Sure, honey, but why would you want her when you could have one of us?"
"I just... need to find her." Time to pull out more ammunition. "It'd be worth fifty bucks to me if you can point me in the right direction."
At the mention of cash, both girls started to answer, but the blonde got the words out quicker. "Up at the projects, near St. Louis Number One." The city's oldest cemetery. "She can score drugs for tricks there. Probably a real mess, though."
He got out his wallet and peeled out a fifty. The blonde plucked it from his hand. "A pleasure."
"I imagine so. Thank you, ladies. You've been helpful."
He headed back down the bar, seeing red when he found Stephanie looking enraptured by whatever the bartender was leaning over to tell her. He plopped back on the stool. "I've got what we were lookin' for," he said loud enough to get her attention.
She and the earring boy parted and the guy went on his way, thank God. "What?" she asked. "They know Raven?"
He nodded. "I know where we can find her." "Really?" She sat up a little straighter, her eyes gone wide.
He dropped some money on the bar. "Let's go." As he followed her to the door, he added, "Hope you won't miss your bartender friend back there too much."
"I won't. But he might miss me. Bartenders seem to have a thing for me."
* * *
They took a cab to his place, transferring into the pickup, Jake explaining that they were headed someplace where it wasn't wise to be walking around at night. He hoped they could prowl around in the truck and locate Raven along the street. Things between them remained tense, and Stephanie could barely decipher her own feelings. Adrenaline roared through her veins at the prospect of finding Tina's friend—and fear, too. Getting closer might mean good news or bad. And she continued to seethe with anger at Jake, trying to mask the ugly wound he'd gouged in her heart that morning. Acting tough with him was her best defense, but it wasn't easy.
Once in the truck, he said, "Listen, chère, you might want to brace yourself."
She turned to look at him across the long seat. "What do you mean?"
"I got the impression Raven might be strung out on drugs. At the very least, sounds like she's livin' on the street, so this might not be pretty."
Stephanie's stomach twisted, worrying she might discover the same fate for her sister. She just nodded and turned back ahead, not willing to let Jake see any more of her emotions.
"Somethin' else," he said. "I didn't want to get your hopes up, but I might have another link to Tina." He told her Shondra had met a man named Nicholson, who was having an affair with a girl called Tiana—and the guy was known to patronize prostitutes. Jake explained that sometimes working girls didn't use their real names. "Just never occurred to me before that Tina could be goin' by something else. Might be a dead end," he said. "But it also might not. I'll be lookin' into it."
Within a few minutes, they'd reached an area that reeked of depression. Stark, identical brick buildings lined a street where the sidewalks were cracked and Uttered with broken glass. They passed a small group of young black men standing in a tight circle and one of them looked up at the vehicle moving slowly past. The threat burning in his eyes beneath the streetlamps gave Stephanie the idea something shady was taking place, and her skin prickled.
A block later, as they drove along the white wall surrounding an old cemetery, they came upon a woman trudging up the street in a soiled white micromini and high heels that had seen better days. Jake pulled up next to her and rolled down the window.
Before he even spoke, she said, "Want me to get in your truck with you, mister?" Stephanie could see the light-skinned black girl had once been a beauty, but now her eyes were sunken and her skin sallow. Her halter top revealed shoulders of skin and bone.
"Is your name Raven?" he asked.
She didn't even look surprised, just tired. "That's right. You want some company?"
Stephanie supposed the girl didn't see her—or was too strung out to notice her.
"Raven, I'm lookin' for a friend of yours," Jake said. "Girl named Tina. But she might go by Tiana. Any idea where I could find her?"
Raven blinked. "Last time I seen Tiana she was with a dude named Nicholson."
Stephanie drew in her breath and Jake exchanged looks with her. What Shondra had heard confirmed Tina was still with this guy. Finally, a real break in her search, and evidence that Tina was alive and probably well!
"What you want her for?" Raven asked, suddenly looking suspicious.
Stephanie scooted across the seat and leaned up past Jake to the window, anxious to glean any more information she could. "She's my sister. I've lost contact with her and I need to find her."
"What can you tell me about her and Nicholson?" Jake asked.
"We met up with him at the Riverwatch Tavern a couple months ago," Raven said, pointing vaguely in the direction of the CBD. "He took a real liking to Tiana— dude was all over her, couldn't get enough. Last time I saw her, she said he wanted her for the whole weekend. She got in his fancy car and took off."
"And you haven't seen her since?" Stephanie asked.
Raven shook her head. "But I wouldn't worry none. That guy's rich. Knows how to treat a girl right. Fancy car, expensive suits—even gave her a diamond necklace before she went off with him."
Again, Stephanie made eye contact with Jake.
"Listen, Raven," Jake said, "this Nicholson—did you ever get the idea he was involved with drugs? He ever try to give you any? Or sell 'em to ya? Maybe ask you to pass 'em to somebody else?"
The girl just blinked, stayed quiet. Somewhere a siren rang out.
Finally, Raven turned and started walking up the street.
"Raven, wait," Jake said, easing the truck forward. She walked faster and he sped up. "Raven, listen to me. I'll pay you for the information. I'll pay you a lot."
The girl stopped and looked over her shoulder. Jake pulled alongside her again and she said, "How much?"
"How's two hundred bucks?"
The girl pursed her lips, looked down at the sidewalk, then raised her gaze once more. "I don't want to get in no trouble with Ni—" She stopped suddenly. "With nobody."
"This is just between you and me."
"You a cop?"
"No. I'm just somebody who ... Well, let's just say I have a good reason for wantin' to find out who's runnin' drugs around here. They ... took somethin' from me."
Raven let out a sigh, finally saying, "He didn't bring up drugs to me or Tiana... but I knew of him before, knew some girls who were selling for him. That was a few years back, but he was into it then, big time."
Jake's heart started beating faster at suddenly getting a leg up on answers that had evaded him two years ago and which, since that time, he'd tried to convince himself he didn't care about. He'd never looked for the people who'd ordered a hit on him—he'd been too lethargic, convinced it didn't matter because it wouldn't change anything. And he still wasn't sure it would change anything, but the mere possibility had his mind racing. "These girls—can you tell me their names?"
She hesitated. "That'd cost more."
"How much?"
"Another hundred."
"Done."
Raven looked a little taken aback, like maybe she hadn't expected him to agree so easily, but she replied, "Was a girl named
Lena back then—skinny brunette, real pale white girl. And another one called herself Tori—red hair and wild green eyes."
"You know if they're still in the business?"
"Selling or whoring?"
"Either."
"See 'em both in the CBD sometimes looking to pick up tricks. Check in the hotels on Canal. But you didn't hear none of this from me."
"No worries—this is a private conversation."
"That everything?" she asked.
He nodded.
"Give me the money." She approached the truck, hand outstretched.
Jake dug in his wallet, counting out fifties and pressing them into her hand. She stank, and he hated to think about what she'd use the cash for—probably more of whatever drug she was on. It ate at his stomach. "Can I give you some advice?"
The girl shrugged. "Whatever."
"Get yourself in a cab and go to a motel tonight, and in the mornin', get yourself over to the Salvation Army on Claiborne or to a place called Bridge House on Camp Street. They can help get you on the road to gettin' well and havin' a better life."
This time she worked hard to look unconcerned and aloof.
"Think about it," he said. "Best possible thing you could do for yourself. Good people there who can help." He knew because he'd made a few phone calls when he'd hoped he might talk Shondra into going to a shelter.
Raven stuffed the money into the waistband of her skirt, taking care to make sure it was well hidden before turning to walk away. He wished she'd do what he'd suggested, but knew she probably wouldn't.
He'd just started rolling up his window when she said, "Wait."
He stopped. "Yeah?"
"You find Tiana, you tell her I said hey?"
"Sure," he said. "Anything else?'
She shook her head. "Just that. She was real nice. I hope Nicholson's giving her everything she ever dreamed of."
As Jake eased the truck away from the curb, Stephanie scooted over, away from him. "So if she's with this Nicholson guy," she asked, duly excited, "what now?"
"Next step'll be stakin' out his house, seein' if he goes to Tina when he leaves."
"Why not just ask him?"
He turned to look at her. "Go to the guy's house, where his wife and kids live, and ask him about the prostitute he's seein'?"
She looked belligerent and determined, as always. "I couldn't care less if his wife finds out he's a scumbag. In fact, I'd prefer it."
"Me too, chère, but as usual, you're ignorin' the danger factor. If this guy is big into the drug game—and he may or may not be, we don't know at this point—he's a dangerous guy. If he's in any way linked to the people that killed Becky, he's a real dangerous guy. The kinda guy we don't wanna piss off, especially since we have reason to believe your sister's doin' fine. The thing now is to be patient. We'll get to her, don't worry. In the meantime, I'll make some phone calls tomorrow, see if I can track him down some other way."
"If you find out where he is, you can't go without me," she said. "You have to take me with you."
He sighed. "It'd be better if I went alone."
"Why?"
"Because I'm havin' a hunch this is a bad guy. There's no need for you to be anywhere near him when I can go by myself and get the same information."
She wore a familiar look of desperation that her heavy makeup couldn't hide. "She's my sister, Jake, and if she's with him—I can't be apart from her a second longer than necessary, okay? I've looked for her for too long and worried too much. I've felt too guilty that somehow this might be my fault."
Jake drew in his breath. Guilt. That he understood, far too well. "All right," he finally conceded. "I won't go lookin' for the guy without you."
"Okay." She sounded appeased.
Quiet filled the truck cab, making Jake relieved to reach LaRue House. Unfortunately, there was no free space along the curb to pull over, and one didn't appear until a block later.
Without a word, she got out and slammed the door.
Only when she heard his shut, as well, did she look back. "What are you doing?"
"Seein' that you get in all right."
She issued a sigh of disgust. "I'm fine, Jake. The B and B is right there." She pointed up the street, then walked on. "Go home."
"I'll go home once I see you're safe inside," he said, catching up with her. She took long strides that showed off her slender legs in that sinfully short dress. "And frankly, I'd feel better if I could lock you in the place. It'd be the only way I could be sure you won't do anything stupid."
She cast him a sideways glance. "I called you before I went out tonight, didn't I?"
"A shockingly smart move, chère. Still pisses me off that you had to go and take matters into your own hands, but I'm glad you called."
Reaching the brick walkway to her room, they turned off the street and headed into the shadowy garden area. "And I'm glad I took matters into my own hands. Do I need to point out that we found all this new information by going to the very first place on Melody's list?" "Dumb luck."
She stopped, turning to face him, looking incredulous. "Would it kill you to ever give me credit for anything?'
He peered into her eyes, a warm deep blue beneath the lamps lighting the path. She was so damn beautiful, so much more than he'd even seen in the beginning. It was tearing him apart. Everything about this situation was tearing him apart. "No," he said softly. "You're right. Goin' to Antonio's turned out to be a smart move, chère."
"Thank you," she whispered before starting to head deeper down the path. He followed behind, watching the sway of her hips, thinking, Why? Why do I have to want her so bad? Why does she have to turn me inside out? His heart felt like it was going to beat right through his chest.
She was a few steps from her door when he grabbed her hand and spun her toward him. "I'm sorry, Stephanie. About this morning. About how things turned out." He shook his head. He owed her more than this, but it was something anyway, and it was all he had to give. "I never meant for things to get... so outta hand."
The look in her eyes told him what he already knew— the words were woefully inadequate. They'd never talked about what was growing between them, but for him to deny altogether that something had grown was just shitty.
And yet admitting it was ... impossible. Because it was breaking a vow to Becky, a vow he couldn't let go of. He owed her a hell of a lot more than he could ever repay, too. And she'd loved him more than life. Sex with another woman, that was okay. But love! He swallowed back everything he knew he wanted with Stephanie because he'd never escape the guilt if he let himself have it all.
She stood there looking like the perfect sex kitten, waiting for him to say more. And he wasn't saying it.
The night air seemed to thicken, until she finally whispered, "I hate you."
She snatched her hand from his, and he grabbed it back—he couldn't let her go, not like this. "Don't say that, beb"
"Why do you even care?"
He swallowed back the unspeakable truth once more and said, "I don't want you to hate me."
"Well, you don't want me to love you, either, so what exactly is it that you do want, Jake?"
He stood looking at her, her eyes wild and beautiful, her chest heaving.
/ just want you. I don't want to call it love, or need, or give it any name at all. I want it to be easy, and good, like before. I don't want words to mess it up.
"Mon Dieu, Stephanie," he uttered softly. He might not want to think he needed this woman, but there was no other way to describe what rumbled inside him, what yearned to get out, what yearned to take her in. He couldn't contain it a minute longer.
Lifting his hands to her face, he gave her a hard, slow kiss that ran through him like hot lava—especially when she began to kiss him back, firm and hungry.
Her fingernails clawed at his chest through his shirt and his breath came in heavy, rolling waves as his arms closed around her, pulling her to where he was hard for her. More desperate kisses followed, so ro
ugh he knew they were bruising each other's mouths, but he didn't care. Just had to have her. Had to feel her against him. They moved together in that timeless rhythm they always found with such ease.
He gathered the short hem of her dress in his hands so she could feel him better, closer, and at first, when he felt her bare flesh, he thought she'd left off panties. But then he realized she was wearing a thong—the other pair he'd bought for her. He kissed her even more brutally, wanted to make her feel everything there was to feel.
Her arms locked tight around his neck, and he never wanted the punishing kisses to stop—it was as if they gave him life, kept his heart beating, helped him breathe. Vague, distant street sounds filtered into their ragged breaths as he moved one hand to her breast, making her whimper against his mouth. More of her, he had to have more. He reached inside the open collar of her dress, freeing her breast from the black lace that held it, letting his touch close warm and firm over her softness, her beaded nipple jutting into his palm. Impulsively breaking their kiss, he dipped his head there for one brisk lick, her nipple sweet and turgid on his tongue.
"God, oh God, oh God," she murmured, her voice trembling. When he lifted his head from her chest, she lowered her hands to the front of his shirt, grabbed onto the placket, and yanked it apart. Buttons clicked and clattered to the bricks at their feet as she clawed her fingernails into his chest until he groaned.
They moved in perfect unison below, everything going quieter now, but just as passionate. He looked at her in the moonlight before kissing her again, and she kissed him back as ravenously as if she hadn't been kissed in years.
He knew she would come soon, just from the way they moved, and he pushed himself stiff against her. She met the pressure, and he pulled her tight, tight, to his body until she was whimpering, "Oh, oh, oh ..."
Her hot cry of release followed, her head dropping back, eyes falling shut. He listened to her breathe as she rode it out—and then—Peter, Paul, and Mary—he was coming, too. "Merde," he moaned, too late to stop it, nothing to do but drive himself against her sweet, soft body and give himself up to the shock of pleasure he hadn't seen coming.