by Alana Lorens
“I have a client whose baby is due in June,” Suzanne said, trying to build a bridge again with the girl. “She’s having a boy. Do you know if yours is a boy or a girl?”
Cassandra shrugged. “Don’t matter.”
Suzanne tried to read her face. “Being a single mother’s not easy.” The kitten had finished eating and had come to Suzanne’s feet, purring loudly. She bent down to scratch its bony back, watching the girl to see if anything she said made an impression.
“Not like I chose it,” the girl said, plopping down into a rickety chair at the tiny, two-seat table.
“I have two daughters, one about your age,” Suzanne said. “Their dad took off when they were little girls and never had anything to do with them again.”
“So?”
The girl’s tone was flat, and Suzanne could see she was losing ground. Had she tried every possible connection they could have? She had to establish trust through some bond, and soon, before Cassandra Trujillo really threw her out of the house. But the girl flashed warm and cold, which gave Suzanne hope she could still connect. Somehow. But what was the key?
Silence fell between them, Cassandra staring out the window and Suzanne crouched down with the kitten. She could think of nothing else. Finally the girl spoke, without moving, in a near-whisper.
“He was really nice to me.” The girl’s bottom lip quivered. “Stopped and bought me hot chocolate on the way to the station.”
Suzanne smiled, wonder filling her as she realized who Cassandra meant. “He’s like that,” she said. Her leg beginning to cramp, she stood up, taking the cat into her arms.
Another silence. Suzanne didn’t want to push, now that the girl had started to open up, but finally she said, “So you remember Nick?”
Cassandra nodded. “He wasn’t in a police car. I think he was on his way home.”
“He told me he didn’t want to see you on the street. He thought you could get hurt.”
“None of his business, either.” She frowned, and Suzanne could see the beginnings of tears in the girl’s eyes, which she brushed angrily away.
“I keep telling him he sticks his nose in where it’s not wanted.” She took a step toward the other chair, and the girl didn’t move to stop her. When she didn’t respond, Suzanne continued, “He’s always trying to tell me what’s good for me, even if I don’t think he has a right.”
“Damn cops, always messing with stuff.”
“Got that right.” Suzanne made her way to the chair and slid into it, grabbing the edge of the table as the rickety chair teetered. The girl was pretty, in a waif-like way. Probably a big favorite with the pedophiles in the red-light district. “He never touched you, did he?”
Suddenly confronted with her proximity, the girl looked into Suzanne’s eyes. Something there must have appealed to her, because she shook her head.
“Thank God,” Suzanne said, relief flowing over her, making her droop, not realizing until that moment that she might have heard any number of possible answers. She was just grateful to have heard the one she believed in.
The girl reached for the cat, setting it on the hump of her stomach to pet it, where it purred its way to sleep. Water dripped steadily from the faucet, creating a background rhythm. A car without a muffler passed by the front of the house, creating another momentary distraction.
“If he didn’t do anything...why did you say so?” Suzanne asked, without accusation.
Cassandra looked at her, and the hard edge flicked back to her eyes, but faded a moment later. “I had to,” she said.
“Someone threatened you?”
She hesitated, then looked away. “I—no, it wasn’t like that. He promised… but I had to—” Her erratic speech drifted off.
“Who?” Now that the words were coming, she tried to rein in her eagerness, before she cut off the source of information. She found it difficult. Very difficult.
“Jojo. He said he’d take care of me,” Cassandra said. She seemed to retreat into herself as she picked at her thin clothing.
Jojo...that name was familiar. Yes. Washington. The man who had danced with her at Sandoval’s retirement banquet, who thought he was such hot stuff. Jojo Washington. “He framed Nick to get the lieutenant’s slot,” she whispered, horrified that someone entrusted with the public good could be so underhanded. And this girl had helped him. But let’s not blame her. She’s got enough strikes against her. Suzanne gestured toward Cassandra’s womb. “Is he the father?”
The girl shook her head. “No, he just come around for awhile before all this happen. After, he said if I say this man molested me, that he would take care of me, give me money for the months I’ll be off the street cause of the baby.”
“My God.” Suzanne wanted to reach out, shake the girl, punish her for what she’d done to Nick, to all of them. What was the modern equivalent of thirty pieces of silver, anyway? But that wouldn’t get Suzanne where she wanted to be. She had to be able to prove to Reickert that it was all a lie. And who was really responsible.
Still speaking as if she were in a dream, soft and unfocused, the girl went on. “But he hasn’t been around for awhile.”
Suzanne wondered if this distancing, this altered state, was the girl’s way of releasing control, being able to speak to Suzanne. Perhaps Suzanne could take advantage of that state to plant some strong ideas about right and wrong.
“What if he doesn’t come back?”
“He will. He promised!”
“You just said he hasn’t been around. I think he’s got what he wants, with Nick about to be fried by the police department. He won’t need you for anything.”
The expression on the girl’s face let Suzanne know the thought had already occurred to her. “Fuck him. I don’t need his money.”
“Cassandra, don’t you have family to take you in?” Suzanne asked. “There must be someone, somewhere, who cares about what happens to you.”
“If that was true, don’t you think I’d be there? They could care less.” Her eyes had turned to black marble. “Why I should trust you? You just trying to twist me to save him. Everyone’s always just trying to rip everyone off. I just got there first this time.”
Suzanne wanted to wipe the proud look off the girl’s face. “So what is it you want? Money?”
“I gotta take care of my baby.” She shrugged. “Don’t want to be a welfare momma. That’s why I work the streets, to have a better life. I’m not in the projects. I got my own place. It isn’t much, but it’s all mine.” She stared at Suzanne. “I don’t have no pimp running my life. No one tells me what to do.”
“Except Jojo.” Suzanne tempered the sarcasm, but it still came through.
Cassandra looked away. “So what’s new? The world goes round, mama.”
“Sooner or later, this will all come out. Do you know they can charge you with perjury for your part in it? You want to have your baby in jail?” Suzanne asked. The quick gasp of breath was answer enough. “I can intercede for you and promise you won’t have to face charges if you tell the truth, and clear Nick.” I hope those aren’t empty words, she thought. Reickert would probably go along with her, as long as she could deliver a full confession.
I hope.
“I don’t know.” The girl’s sudden discontent must have disturbed the kitten, who woke and jumped down with a yowl. Cassandra got to her feet and paced across the kitchen and back. She murmured vague phrases Suzanne couldn’t catch. Finally she stopped before Suzanne and looked her in the eye. “You telling me, straight up, I’ll walk? No charges on the streetwalking count or lying to the cops?” Her chin firmed up as she moved into negotiating mode. “Your word?”
Suzanne nodded. “I’ll take you straight to the police chief myself so you can get the word from him.”
The girl considered the offer, and agreed at last. “I must be loco. We got to meet somewhere Jojo won’t know, and I’ll need protection from him, too.” She smiled for the first time. “But you’re a crazy bitch, too, to come
here, to ask me this.” She looked sad. “No one ever cared about me the way you love him.”
Suzanne stood up, legs shaky with relief. “You’re young yet. Give yourself some time, Cassandra.” Now what? “Can I call the chief?” Cassandra nodded, and Suzanne dialed the number for the station, then actually got through to Reickert himself, using the pretext of a legal emergency.
“Chief, it’s Suzanne Taylor. I’m sure you remember me.”
A shocked pause preceded his choked response.”Yes, I remember. What can I do for you?”
“Can you meet me at the Point in an hour?” Suzanne glanced over to Cassandra. “I have a witness who can tell you the truth about what happened, as long as she can be protected. Up till now, she’s been threatened and, shall we say, ‘persuaded’ by your officers.”
Reickert said nothing at first. After a long pause, he spoke, voice thick with emotion. “Is that so? I think I could fit that into my schedule.”
“I thought you might. But I’m serious about this conspiracy. Don’t tell anyone you’re coming,” she said. “Anyone.”
“Now look here, Miz Taylor—
“No, you look here. I’m not letting anything happen to this girl. Or to Nick. Either you’re interested in the truth, or I’ll find someone higher up who will be. Someone who’s not beholden to a certain city councilman.”
Another pause, then a cough. “All right, then. The Point in an hour.”
“You crazy, girl,” Cassandra said as Suzanne clicked her phone off.
Suzanne smiled. “Maybe so. We’ll see what he does.”
She hated the thought of being at the Point, the state park located at the meeting place of the Allegheny and Monongahela rivers, where it formed the Ohio, especially this time of year. The wind off the water would be freezing. But she’d promised this girl she’d be safe. At the Point, they’d have a clear view all around, and they would be out of range of possible snipers on Mount Washington. Surely she couldn’t represent this girl because she had a blatant conflict of interest, but there was no reason she couldn’t watch out for her, at least for now.
“This isn’t the end, Cassandra. We’ll get you help with the baby. You’re sticking your neck out, and I know it. I promise you’ll come out of this okay.”
“We’ll see.” The thin girl didn’t sound optimistic. “I’ll get dressed.”
She pushed off the chair and went into the other room. For a moment, Suzanne wondered whether she would call Jojo, to warn him, set them all up. Then she spied a cell phone lying on the kitchen counter. She hadn’t taken it with her. Maybe they’d be all right. As the saying went, the truth might set them free.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Fifteen minutes later, they were heading west on Penn Avenue toward the city. Cassandra was quiet on the way, lost in her thoughts as she stared out the passenger window, one hand on her belly. Traffic was light through the Strip, since it was a weekday afternoon. They’d be at the Point on time.
Suzanne glanced at her companion every so often, not sure exactly what to say. Small talk seemed out of place. She didn’t know the girl, didn’t know her background, didn’t know what had brought her to this particular place in these circumstances. Cassandra’s history was none of her business, and she had no right to pry. The future, however—that was a place where Suzanne could have some impact.
They pulled into the parking lot on the Mon side, Suzanne’s eyes searching out potential trouble. No police cars in sight. Just the usual lone walkers this time of year. In summer, whole families came down to stroll the waterfront sidewalks, especially when the fountain was operational. She and her girls had enjoyed many picnics on the park grounds. But this was no picnic.
“We’ll walk up to the pool,” Suzanne said, then she opened the door. “We’re under the bridge there. If anyone’s coming, we’ll see them.”
She didn’t move in her seat. “Look, chica, I don’t know whether this is gonna fly. I’ve got to take care of my baby. Maybe it’s better if...”
“We’ve got to stick together on this. I’m backing you one hundred percent. I’m going to walk right up there with you.” Suzanne studied her, praying she wouldn’t give in to fear. “Come on. We’re clear.”
The girl reluctantly climbed out of the car, walking with Suzanne, who matched her step to the girl’s slower one. They crossed the space past the Fort Pitt Museum, and moved on to the area of the reflecting pool. Suzanne took a look around the park, not seeing anyone suspicious. Cassandra took a seat on a bench, pulling her thin coat close around her thickened body to protect her from the cold wind.
Suzanne, more nervous as the minutes passed, was grateful to finally spy Reickert walking toward them. He was alone.
As he approached her, he scanned the area, perhaps looking for a trap as well. That was the atmosphere they all lived in. “Miz Taylor,” he said by way of greeting.
“Chief.” She shoved her hands into her pockets, the wind blowing right through her.
“Let’s hear the girl.”
“Let’s talk terms first.” She placed herself between the chief and Cassandra. “This poor child is pregnant. One of your officers used that against her to persuade her to give false evidence. She needs the department’s help. I’ve promised her she’ll get it.”
His eyebrow ratcheted up. “You’re generous with my department’s money.”
“The department can pay her in other ways besides cash, and you know it. She’s got charges, and you’ve got some pull there. But cash is good, too. Better to pay for the truth than pay for a lie, isn’t that so, chief?” She eyed him, thinking of the way he’d handled Nick. “People do an awful lot of things for money.”
He gave her a grudging shrug. “Haven’t heard what she has to say.”
“Cassandra, come here, honey.” Suzanne beckoned the shivering girl forward.
The young woman came closer, several inches shorter than either of them and clearly more vulnerable. She took a shuddering breath and kept her arms crossed against the onslaught of the wind. “You’re gonna make sure my baby’s taken care of, right?” she asked Reickert.
“You know what you’re talking about, sweet thing?”
She only nodded, brown eyes wide and suddenly innocent. She shivered as if she would dissolve in the cold. Suzanne wanted to put her arm around the girl for support, but wasn’t sure she’d accept it. “My baby?” she insisted.
“The chief will do everything he can, Cassandra. I will too,” Suzanne promised.
Reickert moved so he stood between the young woman and the wind. Suzanne approved. “Give me your name, your address, and tell me what you know about this.”
The words came hesitantly at first, but then they tumbled loose faster, lighter by the minute, as the burden of the lie was lifted from her shoulders. Suzanne listened, praying Reickert would credit the girl with the truth of what she said. He’d have some money he could give her. He could also waive her charges and deal with a potential perjury situation over her testimony on the incident. He had to. He just had to.
“You’ll say this down at the station?” he asked gruffly. “Then testify against Washington? And any of the others?”
She nodded, still trembling. “That Lieutenant done nothing to me. He was a nice guy.”
Reickert coughed and eyed Suzanne. “Maybe those bozos in Internal Affairs need a little shaking up, too,” he added. He shook her hand. “Will you ladies come back downtown so we can put this on the record?”
Cassandra looked frightened. Suzanne took the risk this time, and put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. Cassandra didn’t pull away. “I’ll be there with you,” Suzanne promised.
As they reached the parking lot, Reickert asked, “Does Nick know?”
Suzanne shook her head. “We came straight from Cassandra’s house.”
“I think he ought to be told. You want to do it?”
“No, I don’t think I’d better. He’ll be angry I interfered. God knows I complain about him meddl
ing in my life often enough.”
“Damn fool ought to be grateful,” Reickert muttered. “All right, I’ll notify him later this afternoon, after we get a full statement from the girl.” Reickert looked at Suzanne as though she’d given him the best Christmas present ever. “I knew in my heart it couldn’t be true. You’ve done one hell of a public service.”
“I had to do it,” she said, over and over, breathing a deep sigh of relief. Nick would get his life back, and that was worth whatever it cost.
****
Suzanne stayed with Cassandra Trujillo as she’d promised, through the sworn testimony Chief Reickert wanted on the record. He asked the questions himself, until he seemed satisfied he had what he needed. He gave the girl a hundred dollars out of a witness fund, then Suzanne took her to one of the pregnancy assistance agencies, to arrange some income and care for the girl while she was awaiting the birth of her child. Once she’d given her statement, the girl seemed reluctant to return to her small house, as much as she’d bragged about it before.
In her bright, cheerful office decorated with photos of mothers and children, the agency worker, Mrs. Johnson, said, “We have a house where some girls stay. Did you bring your things?” Cassandra shook her head. The woman patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. We have someone who can take you over to pick up what you need.”
Suzanne smiled at the girl. “You’ve done the right thing. These women will help you prepare for the next step—becoming a mother.” When the girl’s worried face didn’t change, she added, “I expect Jojo and the others will be off the streets very soon.”
The girl shrugged. “Probably best I leave, too,” she said morosely. “Start over again in a new town.”
Suzanne nodded. “I’m sure Mrs. Johnson here can help you decide about that.” She dug in her purse for a business card. “I really appreciate what you’ve done. I hope you’ll stay in touch. Let me know about the baby?”
“Sure, whatever,” the girl said. At Mrs. Johnson’s urging, she turned and went into the back, taking the first steps toward a new life.
Suzanne stared after her, praying she hadn’t sacrificed Cassandra’s life to improve her own. Certainly the girl’s life could be different with a fresh start through the agency. Maybe she’d even stay off the street after the baby was born. Suzanne had no illusions about the life of a prostitute. If the girl was hooking that young, it was because she felt she had no other options. Suzanne had sent clients to this particular agency before, and knew they did good work. All she could do was hope Cassandra discovered a better life.