Diamond Lilly

by Henriette Daulton

  Jessie blocked her way. “Why not? What are you afraid of?”

  The girl pushed her aside, dropped her bag into the dumpster, and rushed back toward the building with Jessie a couple of steps behind.

  “Go away!” the girl said, her head cast down.

  “Wait, I can help you.”

  The girl shook her head again. “No, you make trouble for me.”

  Jessie reached out and got hold of her arm. She tried to shrug her off.

  “Let me go,” she pleaded.

  Her eyes were wide with fear now, and Jessie noticed the girl kept glancing up at the corner of the building. She looked up and caught the glare of a camera attached to the edge of the roof. It was angled in their direction. She let go of the girl’s arm, positioned herself to have her back turned to the camera, and quickly pressed a business card in the girl’s hand. She whispered in her ear. “Call me at this number. I will help you, I promise.”

  The girl turned away and ran into the building. Jessie went back to her car and decided to leave before some of the goons from the club came hunting for her. She had scant hope the girl would call her. From what she gathered, they were under surveillance all the time, and were often forced to live in houses owned by the Mob.

  When Jessie got back to the office, she had a message on her phone. It was from Emily Newhart and it was dated about an hour ago. Afraid she was going to miss the woman again, she promptly called back.

  “Hello?” The voice was soft and sounded tired.

  “Hi, Ms. Newhart, this is Jessie Milner. I’m sorry I missed your call.”

  “No problem. Can you tell me what this is about?”

  “I’ll be glad to. First I want to tell you how sorry I am about Dariel’s death.”

  “Did you know my brother?”

  Jessie told her how she had met Dariel and Lilly. “Did the police fill you in on everything?”

  “Pretty much. I’m still in shock though. Dariel had a lot of problems, but I never stopped loving him. He was my little brother. Most of it wasn’t really his fault. We didn’t have what you would consider a normal family life. Our father had him pick pockets when he was still a child. It was the way we were brought up. I ran away at sixteen. Sometimes I have such guilt because I left Dariel behind. Maybe I should have helped him get away as well. It was hard just surviving on my own. I lived on the streets for a while. Really, my life was a mess until I met my husband. He saved me, you know,” she said, her voice quivering.

  “There probably wasn’t a whole lot you could have done at the time. You were a child yourself. You’ll be glad to know, though, he was a good dad, and his little girl adores him,” Jessie assured her.

  Emily hesitated. “How is she doing?”

  “She doesn’t know yet about her mom or her dad. The social worker said it would be best to wait until you get here. It’s too much for her to deal with alone.”

  Jessie could hear her crying softly. “Oh my God, how am I going to tell her? She’s just a baby.”

  “Giving her your love and your affection will help a lot, Emily. Lilly is a wonderful little girl, just full of life and energy.” Jessie said.

  “I wish I could come get her now. But I can’t. Not yet. Martin’s blood pressure has been soaring and the doctor wants to run some more tests. They’re putting off his surgery until next week. I feel so bad leaving her there.”

  “Listen, she’s in a good home. I met her foster mom and I can assure you Lilly is okay. Also, I’m going to spend as much time as possible with her. So, right now, just concentrate on everything you have to contend with at home. Once your husband’s surgery is over and he’s well enough, it’ll be time to come and get your little niece.”

  “Thank you so much for calling, Jessie. I can’t wait to meet you.”

  “Same here, Emily.”

  Their conversation had been pleasant, better yet, reassuring. But here she was, still gripping the phone until her hand ached. Out of nowhere, a wave of emotions swept over her. She dreaded the emptiness Lilly’s departure would leave in her life. To no longer hear her wonderful laughter, or watch her eyes light up in delight. To be unable to feel the warmth of her small arms around her neck or nudge against her cool cheek in a quiet moment.

  Without realizing it, she was crying. Then she reminded herself she had no right to be selfish. Lilly deserved a good life with a real family who could offer her the warmth of a home, with a father, and a mother, and a big brother who would look after her. Jessie could see her now, playing in a big yard with the dog she longed for. She smiled through the tears. It was everything she could possibly wish for her sweet Lilly.

  Chapter Seventeen

  She had put off working on her human trafficking article all morning. Then, when she sat down to write, she was overwhelmed by a sense of exasperation. Countless young women were trapped and she couldn’t do anything about it. If only she could tell their stories, maybe it would bring attention to what was going on. Her previous day’s encounter with the Russian girl only magnified her frustration. It was all about fear and intimidation.

  Sitting in front of her laptop, she sighed, trying to come up with something of importance. Nada, nothing. She leaned back in her chair, absentmindedly tapping her front teeth with her pen. Then suddenly, she had an idea.

  Hoping Lonnie was still in the building, she raced upstairs, pushing through the stairwell door on the eighth floor, her chest heaving from the effort. Lonnie was sitting at his desk facing the entrance and he spotted her immediately. He frowned in concern at her appearance. As their eyes met, his expression changed to one of suspicion.

  “Hey buddy,” she said walking toward him, a friendly smile on her face.

  “Buddy? Somehow, I have a feeling you’re up to no good,” he mumbled.

  She waved away his doubts. “Nonsense.” She grabbed a chair nearby and pulled it up to his desk. “I was thinking—”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he protested.

  She ignored him. “How about you coming with me for a visit to the Doll House?”

  His face brightened. “A doll house? Is this for Lilly?”

  Jessie laughed. “No. I mean the strip club down in Hollywood.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “Okay, now I’m really confused. We are talking about a strip club with women strippers, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one.”

  “Have you gone completely mad? What makes you think I would be interested—Wait a minute—is this an attempt to get me to switch teams?” he huffed.

  “Of course not. It’s for the article I’m writing about the Russian mobsters. I’ve tried to talk to some of the dancers. They’re all afraid because there’s always a couple of goons around to keep an eye on them. If you could distract them, just long enough, so I could have a few words with the girls, I may be able to get a phone number or a name,” she said, trying to sound convincing.

  Lonnie shook his head. “You are insane. Those goons, as you call them, probably will beat the shit out of both of us and throw us out of there. If they don’t kill us first.”

  “No, Lonnie, listen. I have a plan. You tell them you are a journalist and you’re there to sample their food because you are writing a special column on strip club foods.”

  He leaned forward getting close to her face. “Jessie, hello, is that brain of yours working today? Do you really think anyone who goes to the Doll House gives a damn about their food?”

  She shrugged. “Well they must serve some things, like burgers or hot dogs. So why not?”

  He stared at her in disbelief.

  “Please, Lonnie. I really need to finish the article for Art, and I can’t, unless I get some interviews with the girls who work there. You should have seen the one I met by the dumpster yesterday. I bet she wasn’t even sixteen. She was scared to death to talk to me.”

  “Jess, they will be scared to talk to you inside the club as well as outside,” he argued.

  “At least I can slip them m
y phone number. All it’ll take is one of them to call me.”

  He shook his head and sighed. “I want you to know this is against my better judgment. I don’t get paid enough to risk getting beat up by a bunch of mobsters.”

  Jessie hopped out of her chair before he could change his mind. “Let’s go right now.”

  Lonnie followed her grudgingly. They reached the parking garage, and Jessie said she would drive. There was no way she was giving him a chance to back out, so she drove fast, weaving in and out of the traffic, until finally, Lonnie spoke up irritably and ordered her to slow down. She did. They still made it there in record time. The Doll House had a few more vehicles parked behind the building than during her earlier visit. She took it as a good sign. Hopefully it would lessen the odds of getting assailed if there were witnesses.

  She pulled into a parking spot and they walked to the back entrance. Deafening music assaulted them as soon as they opened the door and stepped into the dank-smelling building. After a few seconds of getting used to the dimness, Jessie discerned two young women wearing G-strings slowly gyrating on the stage, their dance routine oddly out of synch with the harsh beat. Pulsating lights accentuated the pallor of their skin. To the left of the stage was a bar with a line of empty stools. As they walked up, the bartender shot them a disinterested look. Jessie ordered a Cuba Libre, and the man huffed scornfully when Lonnie asked for a glass of chardonnay, with ice, please. Jessie was annoyed. Lonnie, on the other hand, didn’t seem to notice. They stood at the bar waiting for their drinks, checking their surroundings. She counted about a dozen customers, all of them males, most of them middle aged, with a fair share of balding heads and beer bellies among them. Seated alone at small tables dispersed throughout the room, they stared at the strippers grinding through their tired routine. Loneliness hung in the air, its presence every bit as strong as the yearning for sexual gratification. As her eyes got used to the darkness, Jessie spotted the young girl from the dumpster, picking up empty glasses and wiping tables. After a few moments, she noticed the girl chose to stay a safe distance from the tables occupied by customers, most likely in an attempt to keep from getting groped. Their eyes met and the girl quickly looked away. Jessie glanced at the bartender, who was playing around with his bottles and rearranging his glasses. She knew he decided to make them wait for their drinks as a sign of his contempt. He finally shoved a couple of glasses at them. Jessie balked at the price—thirty dollars for a measly glass of house wine and a rum and coke. She paid him, then reluctantly handed him a couple of dollars tip, only to have him give her the evil eye.

  They walked to an empty table nearby and had barely taken a seat when a bald-headed man, shoulders and arms thick with muscle, emerged from a darkened hallway. He headed straight toward them.

  His legs planted apart and arms folded tightly across his barrel chest, he glared at Lonnie with dark menacing eyes. Tattoos ran the full length of both his arms, and Jessie noticed an angry vein bulging in his neck. She tilted her head to get a better look at his tats, and he suddenly turned to her and barked in heavily accented English. “I know you?”

  “Nope. First time here,” she answered cheerfully.

  “What do you want?”

  Lonnie threw up his hands in protest. “Is this how you welcome new customers?”

  The Russian leaned forward with an icy stare. “You no customers. Like I said, what do you want?”

  Lonnie shrugged. “Well, actually, I’m a reporter for the Broward News. I’m doing an article on foods at nightclubs throughout the county. Can I see one of your menus?”

  The man snickered. “Menus? What the hell you think this is, Olive Garden?”

  Lonnie appeared nonplussed. “Okay, then what do you serve?”

  The man eyed him sarcastically. “Nothing you would like.”

  Lonnie made a pout. “I’m sure you didn’t mean it as an insult.”

  The Russian smirked. “Take it any way you want. We don’t like pansies in here.”

  Jessie glanced at Lonnie. His face remained expressionless.

  She intervened. “I bet you have burgers or hot dogs, don’t you?”

  The bald man scoffed. “You want burger? Yeah, sure, I’ll get you burger.”

  “My friend here certainly would, isn’t that right Lonnie?” Jessie asked innocently.

  Lonnie nodded solemnly. “Absolutely, I would love a burger. Oh, don’t forget the onions and lettuce please. And I’ll take fries with that.”

  The Russian stared at them, eyes clouded for a moment by indecision, then he turned to the young girl nearby. “Irina!” She came running and he shouted a few words to her in Russian. She nodded and left.

  “You eat your burger and then you get the hell out of here. Got it?” the man growled.

  “You bet,” Lonnie said with a grin before taking a sip of his wine.

  The Russian left after a couple more angry stares. Jessie waited until he disappeared, then got up.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Lonnie asked over the din of the music.

  “Restroom,” she said.

  “You be careful.”

  “Absolutely.”

  Jessie took off, gazing right and left, well aware of eyes following her along the way. A sign guided her down a dimly lit hallway where she spotted the women’s restroom halfway down on the left. Before she reached it, there was another door with a handwritten sign marked “Stage Door”. Without hesitating, she turned the knob and stepped inside. For a short moment, the brightness in the room nearly blinded her and she had to blink several times until her vision returned to normal. A step back to the seventies, the walls were covered with garish black and silver foil wallpaper. Gray shag carpeting was matted down by years of wear. Several chairs were lined up in a row in front of a large mirror surrounded by lights. Occupying two of the seats, a couple of women, wearing only pasties and a G-string, were applying make-up. Their skin had the unhealthy appearance of someone who never sets foot outdoors. Both of them stared at her, eyes wide with surprise. Jessie guessed she had very little time.

  “My name is Jessie Milner. I’m a reporter, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  The two girls looked at each other in confusion.

  “Do you speak English?” Jessie asked.

  One of them nodded.

  “What’s your name?”

  The woman hesitated. “Oksana.”

  Reaching into her pocket, Jessie produce a couple of business cards and handed one to each of them. “Please call me if there’s anything I can do to help, anything at all…”

  “Like what?” Oksana asked.

  “Like getting away from this.”

  Oksana nodded, glanced at the card and shoved it under a piece of clothing. The other girl sat staring at hers. Oksana shook her head, grabbed it out of the girl’s hand and hid it as well.

  “You must leave,” she said urgently, her eyes straying anxiously toward the top of the door. Jessie turned and spotted the camera. She looked back at Oksana.

  “Right now, or else it will be big trouble,” the woman whispered softly.

  “Okay, I’ll go. Call me, please,” Jessie said.

  As she turned to open the door, the bald Russian burst into the room and glared at her angrily. “What you doing in here?”

  “Took a wrong turn. I thought this was the ladies’ room.”

  “Get out of here or I’ll kick you out.” He leaned in way too close.

  Jessie shrugged. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry.”

  She glanced in Oksana’s direction as she stepped out. The young woman was applying rouge to her cheeks. Her big brown eyes followed Jessie in the mirror.

  Back at the table, Lonnie was waiting anxiously. “Where were you?”

  She frowned, scanning the table. “Where’s your burger?”

  He stood up and grabbed her arm. A few feet away, the Russian leaned against a wall, leering at them threateningly.

  “Never mind. Let’s get the hell out of th
is joint.”

  “Wait a sec.”

  She reached for her Cuba Libre, took a drink and made a face. “Yuk, I can’t believe I paid fifteen bucks for this crap. I should ask for my money back.”

  Lonnie shook his head emphatically. “Oh no, you don’t. We’re out of here.”

  At the back door, she stopped and exchanged one last icy stare with the Russian.

  A frantic shout came from outside. “For Pete’s sake, come on,” Lonnie yelled, holding the door open.

  “I’m coming,” she protested before following him into the parking lot.

  In the car, he let out a sigh of relief. “Man, I was scared shitless in there.”

  “You were rather impressive with the bald guy.”

  “That was just too dangerous.”

  “Mm… You have to admit, it was fun though.”

  He eyed her in disbelief. “You know you’re crazy, right?”

  She smiled triumphantly. “I made a contact in there, Lonnie.”

  “What? When?”

  “A girl named Oksana. I gave her my card. I think she was interested.”

  “How do you know?”

  She shrugged. “Just the way she reacted. I hope she calls me.”

  Lonnie gave her a concerned look. “Jess, you know you’re playing with fire with those Russians goons. Just be careful, my love, okay?”

  She patted him on the arm. “I know, I’ll be careful, I promise. Oh, and I love you too.”

  They both laughed, but deep down, Jessie knew he was right.

  When she got home, she had a message from Liam on her answering machine. She pulled out her cell phone and noticed there were two calls from him on there as well. She rang him back. “Hey.”

  “Hi Jessie. Tried to call you several times. Guess you must have been busy.”

  “I’m sorry. My boss ordered me off the Thomas case and I have to turn in the Russian mob story by the end of the week.”

  “So, you don’t want to look for the diamonds anymore?”

  His voice carried a note of disappointment, and somehow it pleased her. She hoped it was because he wanted to see her. On the other hand, maybe he just needed help in finding the gems.