Special holds up a picture on her phone. “Let me show you guys this cutie I met on Christian Mingle.com. He’s a dead ringer for The Rock.”
“His name’s Dwayne Johnson now,” I say.
“I’m not having that. He’ll always be The Rock to me.”
Jefferson has a mystified look on his face. “Can you go three seconds without thinking about a man?”
“I ain’t getting no younger,” Special replies with plenty of attitude. “I have to be proactive. The brothers on this site are Christians, so they’re more trustworthy.”
Jefferson shakes his head. “Please tell me you’re kidding. Some of the so-called Christian brothers I know are running more women in the church than my boys who don’t even know how to spell church.”
“I’m not going to let you rain on my parade. I prayed on it and God told me my husband was waiting for me on Christian Mingle.”
As Special wanders off, Jefferson laughs. “I’ll never understand how women can be so smart when it comes to their professional lives, but total fruitcakes when it comes to men.”
“One of the wonders of life,” I say. “Just be thankful you have a woman who’s smart in every aspect of her life. I’m so smart in fact that I planned a little party for you tonight.”
“Really?” He seductively arches a brow. “What’s the occasion?”
“Don’t need one. I figured we’d have a private hot tub party. We don’t use that thing nearly as much as we should.”
“Baby, you’re not smart, you’re brilliant.” He pecks me on the lips. “Let’s go.”
“Okay, but let me find Fletcher so I can tell him we’re leaving.”
Special reappears from nowhere. “Where y’all going? Y’all can’t leave yet.”
“Nowhere,” Jefferson responds, before I do. “See that guy over there?” He points across the yard and Special follows his gaze to an average-looking guy in a linen suit. “He makes twice as much money as Fletcher and he’s here by himself.”
“Serious? He ain’t a bad lookin’ brother.”
“Yep. You should go introduce yourself,” Jefferson urges her.
Special smooths down her skirt. “I think I will.”
As she hurries off, all I can do is laugh. “That was wrong, Jefferson. Did you make that up?”
“Kinda. I don’t know how much the dude makes but he did come solo.”
“Why’d you do that?”
“Because I want to make sure your nutty little friend is occupied for the evening. That’s the only way I can guarantee that she won’t be crashing my hot tub party again.”
Jefferson slides an arm around my shoulder and starts escorting me toward the door. “Now let’s go get that party started.”
Discussion Questions for Lawful Deception
Do you think men have a level playing field in the courts when it comes to parental rights?
Do you think it is fair that the law requires a father to pay child support for a child conceived in the manner in which Bliss conceived Harmony?
Do you think that by virtue of their gender, women are naturally better caregivers for children than men?
An increasing number of fathers are opting to be stay-at-home dads while their wives are the major breadwinners. What are your personal views on that?
Do you think Vernetta should have turned down Fletcher’s case from the start?
What are your thoughts on the way Girlie Cortez handled the legal representation of Bliss Fenton?
Who was more like Bliss Fenton, Mia Richardson or Girlie Cortez?
Did Special’s feelings about dating Darius raise biases that you may have about persons with disabilities?
Despite Darius’ behavior, did Lawful Deception make you think differently about how you might view someone with a spinal cord injury in the future?
What were some of the things you liked/disliked about Lawful Deception?
If you enjoyed Lawful Deception,
turn the page for an excerpt of
Pamela Samuels Young’s award-winning thriller
PROLOGUE
Brianna sat cross-legged in the middle of her bed, her thumbs rhythmically tapping the screen of her iPhone. She paused, then hit the Send button, firing off a text message.
ready?
Her soft hazel eyes lasered into the screen, anticipating—no craving—an instantaneous response. Jaden had told her to text him when she was about to leave the house. So why didn’t he respond?
She hopped off the bed and cracked open the door. A gentle tinkle—probably a spoon clanking against the side of a stainless steel pot—signaled that her mother was busy in the kitchen preparing breakfast.
Easing the door shut, Brianna leaned against it and closed her eyes. To pull this off, Brianna couldn’t just act calm, she had to be calm. Otherwise, her mother would surely notice. But at only thirteen, she’d become pretty good at finding ways around her mother’s unreasonable rules.
She gently shook the phone as if that might make Jaden’s response instantly appear. Brianna was both thrilled and nervous about finally meeting Jaden, her first real boyfriend—a boyfriend she wasn’t supposed to have. Texts and emails had been racing back and forth between them ever since Jaden friended her on Facebook five weeks earlier.
It still bothered Brianna—but only a little—that Jaden had refused to hook up with her on Skype or FaceTime or even talk to her on the phone. Jaden had explained that he wanted to hear her voice and see her face for the first time in person. When she thought about it, that was kind of romantic.
If it hadn’t been for her Uncle Dre, Brianna would never have been able to have a secret boyfriend. When her uncle presented her with an iPhone for her birthday two months ago, her mother immediately launched into a tirade about perverts and predators on the Internet. But Uncle Dre had teased her mother for being so uptight and successfully pleaded her case.
Thank God her mother was such a techno-square. Although she’d insisted that they share the same Gmail account and barred her from Facebook, Brianna simply used her iPhone to open a Facebook account using a Yahoo email address that her mother knew nothing about. As for her texts, she immediately erased them.
A quiet chime signaled the message Brianna had been waiting for. A ripple of excitement shot through her.
Jaden: hey B almst there cant wait 2 c u
Brianna: me 2
Jaden: cant wait 2 kss dem lips
Brianna: lol!
Jaden: luv u grl!
Brianna: luv u 2
Brianna tossed the phone onto the bed and covered her mouth with both hands.
OMG!
She was finally going to meet the love of her life. Jaden’s older brother Clint was taking them to the Starbucks off Wilmington. Her mother kept such tight reins on her, this was the only time she could get away. Jaden had promised her that Clint would make sure she got to school on time.
Turning around to face the mirror on the back of the door, Brianna untied her bushy ponytail and let her hair fall across her shoulders. The yellow-and-purple Lakers tank top her Uncle Dre had given her fit snugly across her chest, but wasn’t slutty-looking. Jaden was a Kobe Bryant fanatic just like she was. He would be impressed when she showed up sporting No. 24.
Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, Brianna trudged down the hallway toward the kitchen.
“Hey, Mama. I have to be at school early for a Math Club meeting.”
Donna Walker turned away from the stove. “I’m making pancakes. You don’t have time for breakfast?”
Brianna felt a stab of guilt. Her mother was trying harder than ever to be a model parent. Brianna had spent much of the last year living with her grandmother after her mother’s last breakdown.
“Sorry.” She grabbed a cinnamon-raisin bagel from the breadbox on t
he counter. “Gotta go.”
Donna wiped her hand on a dishtowel. “It’s too early for you to be walking by yourself. I can drop you off.”
Brianna kept her face neutral. “No need. I’m picking up Sydney. We’re walking together.”
Brianna saw the hesitation in her mother’s overprotective eyes.
Taller and darker than her daughter, Donna wore her hair in short, natural curls. Her lips came together like two plump pillows and her eyes were a permanently sad shade of brown.
Donna had spent several years as a social worker, but now worked as an administrative assistant at St. Francis Hospital. Work, church and Brianna. That was her mother’s entire life. No man, no girlfriends, no fun.
Brianna wasn’t having any of that. She was gonna have a life, no matter how hard her mother tried to keep her on a short leash like a prized pet.
Donna finally walked over and gave her daughter a peck on the cheek, then repeated the same words she said every single morning.
“You be careful.”
Brianna bolted through the front door and hurried down the street. As expected, no one was out yet. Her legs grew shaky as she scurried past Sydney’s house. Brianna had wanted to tell her BFF about hooking up with Jaden today, but he made her promise not to. Anyway, Sydney had the biggest mouth in the whole seventh grade. Brianna couldn’t afford to have her business in the street. She’d made Sydney swear on the Bible before even telling her she’d been talking to Jaden on Facebook.
As she neared the end of the block, she saw it. The burgundy Escalade with the tinted windows was parked behind Mario’s Fish Market just like Jaden said it would be. Brianna was so excited her hands began to tremble. She was only a few feet away from the SUV when the driver’s door opened and a man climbed out.
“Hey, Brianna. I’m Clint, Jaden’s brother. He’s in the backseat.”
Brianna unconsciously took a step back. Jaden’s brother didn’t look anything like him. On his Facebook picture, Jaden had dark eyes, a narrow nose and could’ve passed for T.I.’s twin brother. This man was dark-skinned with a flat nose and crooked teeth. And there was no way he was nineteen. He had to be even older than her Uncle Dre, who was thirty-something.
Brianna bit her lip. An uneasy feeling tinkered in her gut, causing her senses to see-saw between fear and excitement. But it was love, her love for Jaden, that won out. It didn’t matter what his brother looked like. They probably had different daddies.
As Clint opened the back door, Brianna handed him her backpack and stooped to peer inside the SUV.
At the same horrifying moment that Brianna realized that the man inside was not Jaden, Clint snatched her legs out from under her and shoved her into the Escalade.
The man in the backseat grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her toward him. Brianna tumbled face-first into his lap, inhaling sweat and weed and piss.
“Owwwww! Get your hands offa me!” Brianna shrieked, her arms and legs thrashing about like a drowning swimmer. “Where’s Jaden? Let me go!”
“Relax, baby.” The stinky man’s voice sounded old and husky. “Just calm down.”
“Get offa me. Let me go!”
She tried to pull away, but Stinky Man palmed the back of her head like a basketball, easily holding her in place. Clint, who was now in the front seat, reached down and snatched her arms behind her back and bound them with rope.
When Brianna heard the quiet revving of the engine and the door locks click into place, panic exploded from her ears. She violently kicked her feet, hoping to break the window. But each kick landed with a sharp thud that launched needles of pain back up her legs.
“Let me goooooo!”
The stinky man thrust a calloused hand down the back of Brianna’s pants as she fought to squirm free.
“Dang, girl,” he cackled. “The brothers are gonna love you.”
“Cut it out, Leon,” Clint shouted, turning away to grab something from the front seat. “I’ve told you before. Don’t mess with the merchandise.”
“Don’t touch me!” Brianna cried. “Get away from me!”
She managed to twist around so that her face was no longer buried in Stinky Man’s lap. That was when she saw Clint coming toward her. He covered her mouth with a cloth that smelled like one of the chemicals from her science class.
Brianna coughed violently as a warm sensation filled her body. In seconds, her eyelids felt like two heavy windows being forced shut. She tried to scream, but the ringing in her ears drowned out all sound. When she blinked up at Stinky Man, he had two—no three—heads.
Brianna could feel the motion of the SUV pulling away from Mario’s Fish Market. She needed to do something. But her body was growing heavy and her head ached. The thick haze that cluttered her mind allowed only one desperate thought to seep through.
Mommy! Uncle Dre! Please help me!
DAY ONE MISSING
* * *
“Sex traffickers often recruit children because not only are children more unsuspecting and vulnerable than adults, but there is also a high market demand for young victims. Traffickers target victims on the telephone, on the Internet, through friends, at the mall, and in after-school programs.”
—Teen Girls’ Stories of Sex Trafficking in the U.S.
ABC News/Primetime
CHAPTER 1
Day One: 8:00 a.m.
Angela Evans zigzagged her Saab in and around the slow-moving cars inching up Hill Street, ignoring the blaring horns directed at her.
“Shoot!” She pounded the steering wheel.
The lot where she normally parked for court appearances had a Full sign out front. It could take another twenty minutes to find a place to park. Twenty minutes she didn’t have.
She spotted a two-hour parking meter a few feet ahead and swerved into it. Grabbing her purse from the front seat, she tumbled from the car, not bothering to put change in the meter. She’d just have to deal with the fifty-dollar ticket.
When she rounded the corner, the line of people waiting to enter the Clara Shortridge Foltz Criminal Justice Center was at least fifty deep. The line for attorneys and staff was half as long. She strolled up to a middle-aged white guy in an expensive suit near the front of the attorneys’ line and flashed him a hopeful smile.
“Cuts? Pretty please?” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I’m way late.”
The man grinned and allowed Angela to step in front of him. A few people behind them had started to grumble, but by that time she was already dropping her purse onto the conveyor belt and walking through the metal detectors.
She jogged down the hallway and squeezed into an elevator seconds before the doors closed. The car shot straight to the fourth floor. When she finally reached the courtroom, Angela frowned. Shenae was supposed to be waiting outside.
Inside the courtroom, Angela was glad to find that the judge hadn’t taken the bench yet. She grew incensed, however, as she scanned the gallery. Her client was sitting off to the right, next to a man in a sports jacket and tie. Angela presumed he was the detective who had picked her up from the group home. On the opposite side of the courtroom, Angela counted four women and five men. The whole rowdy, tattooed group looked as if they’d just broken out of county jail. One of the men craned his neck in Shenae’s direction and scowled, confirming exactly what Angela had assumed.
She marched into the well of the courtroom and straight up to the deputy district attorney.
“Why haven’t you cleared the courtroom?” she demanded. “If you don’t get them out of here, I’m advising my client to take the Fifth.”
“Good morning to you, too, Counselor,” Monty Wyman replied with a forced smile. “I was going to do it. We haven’t started yet.”
Wyman was in his late twenties, with sandy hair and black-rimmed glasses. His doughy midsection publicized that exercise wasn’t high
on his agenda.
“If you want my client to testify, do it now.” Angela cocked her head and smiled. “Pretty please.”
Wyman had spent the last six months of his young legal career in the sex crimes unit. He knew how traumatic it was for a twelve-year-old child to face her pimp in court. It irked Angela that the defendant’s homies were even allowed to be in the same building as Shenae.
Angela walked over to Shenae, greeted her with a hug, then escorted her to a bench in the hallway.
“You okay? You still want to do this, right?”
Shenae’s timid eyes fell to the floor. “Uh, yeah.” The thin, gangly girl never made eye contact for more than a few seconds.
Six months earlier, Shenae had been arrested for solicitation to commit prostitution. She was one of a dozen under-aged girls forced into prostitution by a pimp named Melvin Clark. Yet the justice system treated her like the criminal.
Angela represented Shenae in juvenile court on the solicitation charge and had arranged for her to be sent to a group home. As part of a special program, if she did well in school and stayed out of trouble for at least a year, the charge would be dismissed.
Angela was in court today to lend moral support.
“If I tell ’em everything I did, are you sure they’re not gonna arrest me?” Shenae asked.
“Yes, I’m sure.” Angela placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ve already negotiated that with the prosecutor. You have full immunity. That means nothing you say can be used against you. Ever.”
Just then, the defendant’s cohorts were ushered out of the courtroom by the bailiff. Angela pulled Shenae close, blocking her face from the glares of her would-be intimidators.
Wyman stuck his head into the hallway. “We’re ready.”
Lawful Deception Page 34