6
Friends and Foes
The ceiling light buzzed faintly. Despite it being late autumn, the AC pumped out freezing air. Arden’s wrists rested on the top of the aluminum table. Her blood hardened on her knuckles. She kept her eyes down. Her foot tapped anxiously. The walls of the compact interrogation room closed in on her. A high-pitched ringing sounded in her ear from all the close-quarters shooting.
The doorknob twisted.
Arden straightened her posture.
The investigator entered. A file was tucked under his arm. He had salted brown hair and deep lines on his jaw despite being in his late forties. A small smile lingered on his clean-shaven face. His eyes were dark, old, and droopy like a dog. He wore a nice button-up with a charcoal blazer. A silver watch held snugly to his wrist.
He pulled back his chair. The legs screamed against the tile floor. He took a seat and studied Arden for a moment.
Arden didn’t try to hide her exhaustion. Bags were forming beneath her eyes and her skin was a sickly pale from the lack of sleep, food, and comfort. Her short red hair was disheveled.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” the man extended his hand. “Detective Dawkins.”
His powerful grip left Arden’s fingers feeling.
Dawkins put down the file. “Arden Briar.” He read slowly. He flipped through the pages. “Not much of a record.”
“I like to keep on the right side of the law,” Arden replied.
Dawkins’ smile widened. Was his grin genuine or condescending? Arden could not tell.
“Some people around here call you Macon’s Girl,” Dawkins said.
Arden raised a brow.
“It’s true,” Dawkins confirmed. “They say you’re a champion of the little people. They say you go out of your way to help the police in an unofficial capacity.”
Arden didn’t reply. She was aware that vigilante methods of catching criminals were a point of compromise. Her only true contact in the department was Derrick. The more she could keep him out of this, the better. She couldn’t live with herself if she stained his reputation.
Dawkins closed the file. “Was this spa treatment part of another one of your off-the-books investigations?”
“Should I get my lawyer?” Arden asked.
“It’s up to you,” Dawkins said. “I’d rather just have a talk. Peer to peer.”
Arden didn’t know if she could trust him. Jessica needed her to get out of here quickly. A lawyer would slow down that process and also annoy the detective.
“I went in there looking for Jessica Carmon,” Arden admitted.
“So you suspected there was a sex trafficking ring beneath the establishment before you entered?” Dawkins interrogated.
Arden adjusted slightly on the hard metal chair. “I was following a hunch. I’ve been contracted to search for Jessica Carmon. After some research, I theorized that Serenity might be where she was located.”
“How did you come to this revelation?”
“Following the symbolism,” Arden replied. “I believe that the man who took Jessica has abducted multiple minors. One, who I believe was taken by the perpetrator and then later was released, had the tattoo that matched Serenity’s logo. As a private investigator, I arrived and scoped out the area for a bit. Once I moved inside, I realized there was something strange about the place. I noticed stairs leading into the basement, but the owner claimed to have no basement.
“Later, I noticed traffic arriving at the smoke shop on the same strip. There was a basement in the back as well. My partner and I decided to investigate. That’s when we discovered the brothel. My intention was to inform the police as soon as possible. However, in my attempt to leave, I was attacked and had to resort to self-defense. I tried to help some of the girls on my way out. Admittedly, that escalated the conflict. Thank God we got out of there alive. Did you ever find Jessica?”
Dawkins replied, “I can’t disclose that.”
“Were there any casualties?” Arden asked.
“I can’t disclose that, either.”
Arden leaned into the table and locked her fingers together. “Detective, what happened tonight was a calamity. If I had known about the operation beneath the spa before entering, I would’ve contacted the authorities much sooner. This whole event proved to me one thing. Whoever abducted Jessica Carmon has connections with these people. I don’t have access to the resources I need to go deep into this operation, and I imagine you don’t have the time. Sign me up as a consultant. I’ll take care of the grunt work and we’ll have a steady feed of information going both ways.”
“I didn’t realize this was a job interview,” Dawkins said in reply. “What happens to all the charges against you?”
“I say we forget about that,” Arden replied.
Dawkins laughed at her boldness.
“You know what I’m saying is true,” Arden said. “We’ll be a lot better off as a team.”
Dawkins thought on it.
Arden pushed open the police department doors and looked at the sunrise over Macon. Its golden rays outlined various buildings. The chilling autumn wind was still warmer than the AC blasting in the department. She pinched the bridge of her nose in an effort to keep her head from pounding. It didn’t work. Her feet guided her down the stairs, but her legs felt like jelly. She had a hard time seeing straight.
She called a cab and headed back to the office. She meant to call Joe, but instead she crashed on the small bed. She didn’t even bother changing. That night, she dreamed about being trapped in a dark room, with the only sliver of light coming from beneath the door.
She heard a buzzing noise.
Lying on her face, she opened one eye. Her vibrating phone shimmied on the lamp stand. She picked it up. It was an unrecognized number. Arden answered it and rolled on her back. She held the phone to her ear. The unmoving ceiling fan seemed seconds away from falling on her. “Briar speaking,” she answered.
“Hey, it’s Joe.”
Arden rubbed her face with her free hand. She glanced over at the clock. It was 5:11 pm. She’d slept most of the day.
Joe continued with a little frustration and worry in his voice. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for the last few hours. Thank you, by the way, for getting me out. I thought for sure they were going to charge me.”
“I was going to talk to you about that,” Arden replied. “You know Tattnall Square Park?”
“Yeah,”
“Meet me there in twenty.”
“Uh, okay.”
After getting changed, Arden arrived at Tattnall Square Park. The autumn leaves were in full bloom. The sun was going down. There were a few joggers and a picnic set up nearby. Arden leaned back on her bench. She listened to the rustle of the leaves and thought about all the times she and her sister ran through this park. They were children, unaware of the forces working around the world. They were blissful in their ignorance. Arden was sometimes envious about those times. The thing about truth is that once you know it, you can’t go back. To see the world for what it is, as beautiful yet rotting, as massive yet growing smaller, changed many things for Arden.
Joe joined her on the bench. He wore a hoodie and jeans. His tennis shoes were scuffed. He looked more haggard than he ever was before. His eyes were more haunted and his forehead was deeply creased. He drank from a water bottle. “You good?”
“Still a little shaken,” Arden replied. “You?”
“I’m ready to bring more of these guys down. Anyway, why are we meeting here instead of the office? Shouldn’t we be researching? If the guys at Serenity don’t have my daughter, maybe they know the one who does. I was thinking you could use your contact in the police department to get us the different names.”
“Joe,” Arden said guiltily.
A look of concern fell over Joe’s face. He waited for her to continue.
“I’ve signed on as a consultant with the police department,” Arden replied.
“Okay, so you ha
ve access to even more of their connections. Smart move,” Joe complimented her.
Arden took a deep breath.
Joe asked, “Why is this not good news?”
“Because I have a P.I. license and I’m not connected to the case in a personal way, I’m able to consult with them. But…”
Joe’s lips sealed up tight.
Arden gave him a reassuring touch on his upper arm. “Joe, I’m sorry, but if this case grows into something bigger, and it might by the way things are shaping up, we can’t afford anything or anyone who could compromise the investigation.”
Joe didn’t say anything.
Arden kept speaking. “I was barely able to convince them to let us go, and it wouldn’t have been possible if I hadn’t built years of a reputation with the late-night staff. They really put their necks out on the line for me, and I did the same for you. It didn’t come without a price.”
Arden tried to recover. “I assure you, I will do everything within my power to save your daughter. You have my word.”
Joe turned to her. “We do this together. That was the deal.”
“That was before there was a shootout,” Arden said. “I’d recommend you keep researching. I can funnel that information to the proper authorities.”
“So, I’m a desk jockey now?” Joe asked rhetorically.
“Don’t be melodramatic,” Arden shut him down. “This isn’t over for you. We just can’t have you working in the field. Your unpredictable nature nearly compromised everything.”
“My unpredictable nature?” Joe scoffed.
Arden gave him the evil eye. “Do I need to remind you that it was you who charged into the salon first?”
“One second wasted is another second those freaks abuse another little girl,” Joe argued.
“I get it,” Arden related, thinking of her sister’s death. “But this is the way things are now. It was either work with the police or be caught up in the crap-show that happened at the salon.”
A dry leaf broke away from the tree and danced through the air. “Like I said, I’m sorry, Joe.”
Joe buried his face in his large palms. After a moment, he lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot. “I’m guessing you’ll want your money.”
“Hold on to it,” Arden replied. “Buy something nice for Jessica when you get her back.”
Arden stood up.
Joe stayed back by the bench, almost at a loss as to what to do. Guilt twisted in Arden’s gut. To tell him to give up searching for his daughter wasn’t easy, especially after he’d saved her life a few times. It was for the best, Arden concluded. She’d exposed other smaller prostitution rings by herself, but never had she’d dealt with one that tried to shoot her. She felt queasy thinking about it. It was almost like a lucid dream.
She glanced back at Joe one final time. She imagined the next time she’d be seeing him would be with news about his daughter.
To blow off some steam, Arden took a trip to the gym. She ran on the treadmill for an hour before heading over to the boxing area. She taped on her gloves that were previously in the trunk of her car and whaled on the dummy until her wrist hurt. Every punch, she imagined the shootout. Every right hook, she saw the men who abducted those girls, every quick jab, she thought about how many organizations were available.
Breathing heavily and drenched in perspiration, Arden called out one of the local men and asked him to spar. A reasonable person would tell her to catch her breath before a big fight, but she needed to simulate reality. Enemies rarely attacked you when you were at your finest. It was how well you could fight when you were at your weakest that determined your true strength.
At first, her sparring partner was hesitant about making any moves on her. After Arden landed a few good hits on the man’s jaw, he fought back. Arden held her own for a while before he slammed her with an unforeseen right hook. She blinked and was lying on the floor of the boxing ring. She tasted copper in her spit and pushed against the floor to get up. The man sparring with her gave her a hand. Feeling dizzy, she decided that was enough for today. She stepped under the rope and dropped off the stage. She removed her gloves and wiped her face down with a towel. After chugging two bottles of water in ten seconds, she threw up a little bit in the trashcan and then went to the locker room for a shower.
When she finished, she got dressed and headed back home. Her hair was still wet on the drive back. The nice neighborhoods were largely quiet while the lower-income ones were starting to get filled up with loud locals shouting obscenities or playing obnoxious music. She wondered how many girls were getting trafficked tonight and who was profiting.
In the early morning, Arden arrived at the police precinct and waited at the reception desk until Detective Dawkins came and got her. He wore a cream-colored sports coat with dark brown elbow patches that didn’t fully match his checked gray and white pants. His hair was combed back and his walk was brisk. If Arden had to describe his mood, it was excited. “Ready to pull some teeth?”
“As long as it’s not mine,” Arden replied.
Dawkins smirked. His arrogance was far more bearable this side of the interrogation room. Moving through the busy bullpen, a female detective joined them. She was short and walked with her chin up. Her sharp jaw and no-nonsense expression made her both appealing and intimidating. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She did not have a widow’s peak. She wore a blouse tucked into her slacks with her detective badge worn like a necklace. From Arden’s perspective, she was a strong woman raised around boys. Arden would be curious to see how they got along. Two alphas in the same room wasn’t always a good thing.
Dawkins introduced her. “This is my partner, Detective Kovac. She heads up Vice with me. Don’t get on her bad side, her father is the chief.”
“You don’t have to tell everyone that,” Kovac replied.
“I just want to make sure you’re treated with the respect you deserve,” Dawkins replied.
Kovac shook Arden’s hand. “You’re the P.I. that shot up Serenity?”
“That’s one way of saying it,” Arden said.
Kovac looked her up and down. “Sloppy work. You could’ve gotten a lot of people killed.”
Saying anything would probably further stir up the hotheaded woman, so Arden kept her mouth shut. This wasn’t a contest of egos, and Arden didn’t want to burn any bridges on her first day with the police. They stopped by Dawkins’ desk. It was covered with sports memorabilia, mostly related to baseball. He casually flipped open a file. It showed the mugshots of the eight men arrested at the spa/smoke shop.
Dawkins tapped his finger on them and grinned at Arden. His smile was slightly lopsided. “These are our new best friends. We let them marinate last night. They didn’t get much sleep. We made sure to run our batons across the cell bars when they shut their eyes. I think they’re willing to talk.”
“A little brutal,” Arden remarked.
Kovac smirked with judgement. “Like they don’t deserve it. These people are scum.”
“On that we can agree,” Arden replied. “So what’s the agenda?”
Dawkins said. “We talk to them, see what they know. You’ll need to wait in observation. Its general protocol.”
Arden nodded. She wanted to see how they worked anyway.
Arden set up in the operating room, watching the interrogation through the one-sided window. The first of the eight was Harold Lang. He was a thirty-two-year-old with a history of gang violence. His current demeanor was a mix of reckless and annoyed. Arden could tell that he was the type of person that believed the world revolved around him.
Dawkins and Kovac played good cop and bad cop. Dawkins used his arrogant charm to try to get Lang to talk while Kovac’s method was brute force and accusatory speech. They spoke to the man for two hours. He responded with curse words and provocative statements. In the end, there was not much information gathered from him. The next five detainees were the same way. They were rude and unruly. They talked to the w
oman, but most of them were too hyped up on drugs to respond.
Arden stayed engaged listening to the conversation, hoping that something would be said about Jessica Carmon. They made no mention of her. The final two suspects had polar opposite reactions. One was crying and begging to be let out. He apologized profusely for attacking Arden and said that he was only in the salon because one of the guys said he had to be. He was a “victim” being blackmailed. Dawkins offered to help him out if he was willing to rat on his friends, but he wasn’t. The man was a good actor. The final perpetrator, the old crone who owned the establishment, didn’t say a word the whole two hours, even with Kovac barking in her ear nonstop.
Arden met with the detectives after the questioning had ended.
Dawkins yawned. “See anyone you liked?
“None of these guys are going to be easy to break,” Arden replied. “They know they are screwed, and they will fight tooth and nail before they confront what they did.”
Kovac put one hand on her hip. “They’ll break.”
Arden continued. “I noticed they danced around the idea of the salon’s symbolism. I wonder if the white rabbit could lead to other brothels.”
“Perhaps,” Dawkins replied.
“Was there anything found at Serenity that could lead us in the right direction?” Arden asked.
Dawkins smirked. “Old condoms. Forensics is having a DNA field day.”
That was an image Arden would rather not have.
Kovac glared at Dawkins and then turned to Arden, another person she didn’t like. Arden was convinced that the detective didn’t like anyone. “We know how to do our job. We cleaned the place out.”
“No doubt,” Arden replied. “But, I’m talking about the walls. The pictures, logos, anything that would direct us to Jessica’s abductors. I have this theory that he sells the girls to these people, but he may have multiple buyers. There could be a chain. That’s just a theory, of course, but it may be our best option.”
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go back,” Dawkins replied nonchalantly.
Tired of sitting in the observation booth all day, Arden suggested they go now. After all, Jessica needed them to find a solution.
Secrets Boxset: A Riveting Kidnapping Mystery Collection Page 6