Deadly Justice

41

AT BEN’S SUGGESTION, THEY washed the dirty dishes in the kitchen—at least a week’s worth. Ben washed, Trixie dried. He hoped to catch her up in the rhythm of an ordinary, mundane chore, something that might distract her and allow the words to flow more freely.

It seemed to be working. Half an hour later, she was talking almost without hesitation.

“You’re from St. Louis originally?” Ben asked.

“Uh-huh.”

Ben sank his hands beneath the suds. “How did you end up in Tulsa?”

“It’s…a real long story.”

“I’m in no hurry.”

“Why do you care?” A tinge of bitterness crept into her voice. “No one else ever did.”

Ben rammed a sponge down a dirty highball glass. “Maybe you never told the right person.”

“I told everyone I knew. It never made any difference. Everyone always sided with my stepfather.”

“You didn’t get along with your stepfather?”

“My stepfather hurt me. And molested me. Several times.”

Ben set the glass down on the towel. “Oh.”

She looked up at him. “You know, that’s the first time I’ve ever said that aloud. Using those words, I mean. When it was happening, I didn’t know what he was doing, or why, or what to call it.”

“When did this start?”

“Right after he married my mother and moved into our house, three years ago. He was always touching me when he shouldn’t, and where he shouldn’t. Making dumb jokes. Asking if I wanted to shower with him. Wink wink. Jab jab.

“It just got worse and worse. One night he had this big party for all these big shot male friends of his. They were drinking and smoking shit, acting really rude. He asked me to come out of my room and join them. I didn’t want to, so he forced me. Mom wasn’t home, naturally. He dragged me out, and they gave me booze to drink, the first time I’d ever had it, and they let me gag trying to inhale their grass, and before long they were all passing me around, pawing me, feeling up my dress, feeling…”

She looked away. “They were gross. But I was so out of it, I didn’t realize what was happening. I mean, I did, but it was like it wasn’t really me, or like it was me in a dream, you know? Anyway, I must’ve passed out eventually. I didn’t wake up until the next morning.”

She picked up the glass and applied the towel furiously, long after it was dry. “I woke up and found I was naked, not a stitch on me. And no, in case you’re wondering, I didn’t normally sleep that way. Then I noticed the surroundings were all wrong. I wasn’t in my room; I was in his room—in his bed. And then—” She set the glass down on the counter. “And then I noticed that he was lying next to me, and he wasn’t wearing anything either.”

Her eyes closed, fighting back the tears. “I thought it couldn’t get any worse than that. But it did. I sat up, and I saw one of my stepfather’s friends in bed on the other side of me. And he was naked, too.”

Ben felt his stomach tighten. He dropped a few more plates into the sudsy dishwater.

“I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to get out of there. I got dressed and ran out of the house. As far as I was concerned, I was running away and never coming back. But where could I go? I didn’t have any money, not a dime. I didn’t know anything about buses, or trains, or shelters. I just wandered around the streets aimlessly. Couple of hours later, he found me. He grabbed me by the hair, slapped me a few times, and dragged me into his car. When he got me home, he beat me up but good. I had bruises, a black eye, welts. That’s how I got this scar across my nose. My mom was home the whole time, but she never said a word. I screamed out to her, but she wouldn’t interfere. She was scared of him, too.”

“You should have gone to the police,” Ben said.

“I did, about a week later. My stepfather told me he was having another party and he wanted me to be there. To entertain, he said. I just couldn’t let it happen again. If it did, I’d be more than just sick. I’d die—I was certain of it. So I ran to the police station and told them what he did to me. They put me in a tiny room with four male officers, and I told them everything, over and over again. I was amazed—it just came pouring out of me. I told them everything about my stepfather.”

“And?”

Her lip curled, men trembled. “They didn’t believe me. Not one of them. They said I was making it up.”

“Whether they believed you or not, they had a duty to investigate.”

“Yeah. And they did, in a way. They called my stepfather. I begged them not to, but they did. He came in, furious, and they put him in me same tiny room with me, and—what a surprise!—he denied everything.”

“Did you have a chance to call any other witnesses?”

“Who would I call? No one else knew, except his buddies and my mother, and I knew they wouldn’t say anything. It was just him against me. And they believed him.”

“Did they hold a hearing?”

“Yeah.” Her hands gripped both ends of the kitchen counter. “My stepfather showed up with some fancy lawyer and a buddy from the police station. Some clown I’d never seen before in my life came in claiming to be my guardian or something. What a joke—he didn’t even talk to me. My stepfather’s cop friend got the whole thing fixed. He talked to the judge privately and he talked to the other officers who were going to testify. He convinced them I was a troublemaker. A discipline problem, that’s what they kept calling me.

“The judge said a lot of stuff I didn’t understand about how I hadn’t proven a right to be emancipated and ordered me to go back to live with my stepfather. Can you believe it? No matter what I did, I couldn’t get away from him. The judge ordered me to go back and live with the man who…who…” She turned away from him and dabbed her eyes with the dish towel.

Ben cleared his throat. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her that he understood, but he didn’t know how to begin. “Sometimes there are some…problems with the juvenile justice system.”

“Justice?” She was crying full out now. Ben took the plate from her hands, turned off the running water, and led her back to the Jiving room. She crumpled onto the sofa and continued to cry. Ben sat next to her and waited.

After a long while, Trixie composed herself enough that Ben felt he could ask another question. “Did you go home with your stepfather after the hearing?”

“I had no choice. They literally put me in the car with him. As soon as we were out of sight, he hit me in the face. With his fist. And promised he’d do a lot more when we got home.”

Ben swallowed. He was afraid to ask what happened next.

“We walked through the front door. He turned toward me, his face all twisted up real mean, like he could kill me with his bare hands, and I kicked him right between the legs. Just like that, before he even had a chance to think about it. Hard. While he was down, I grabbed his wallet from his coat pocket and ran out the door. I ran to the bus station, got on the first bus that left and didn’t get off till I was in Tulsa.”

“Do you have relatives in Tulsa?”

“No. I don’t have relatives anywhere, at least not that I know of. I was just out of money. Someone picked me up at the bus station, though. Someone who was scouting for Sonny.”

“Sonny is your…boss?”

“Right. I had no hope at all at this point, and my stepfather’s money was almost gone. I was certain I was going to starve to death, or freeze to death, or the some other horrible painful way. Or get sent back to my stepfather, which would be worse. Sonny offered me hope. He offered to take care of me.”

“If you’d work for him.”

“Right. I didn’t like it, but what could I do? I couldn’t even get a job at McDonald’s at my age. I almost didn’t get a job from Sonny.”

“I didn’t realize he was all that particular.”

“He requires all his girls to have a physical regularly, especially before they start. Says he doesn’t want them spreading diseases that might put off his customers. I couldn’t get a physical, though, without some kind of ID. Thank God for Buddy. I guess you’ve met him; he works the other side. He’s the best friend I’ve ever had. Only friend, really. He pretended to be my stepfather and got a copy of my birth certificate.”

“And you passed the physical?”

“Of course. And I’ve been hooking ever since. Maybe it’s not my dream come true or anything, but I had to keep on eating somehow. So I made a compromise.”

“Another compromise.” Ben was quiet for a moment. “Seems awfully risky.”

“Hey, life is risky. If you don’t believe me, just try crossing the street in these heels sometime.”

“How long has it been since you left home?”

“Over a year now.”

Ben felt himself sinking into the sofa. Over a year. Twelve months. Three hundred and sixty-five days on the street. “Trixie, I’m so sorry. I just wish—”

“I’m the one who should be sorry. What a whiner I am.” She brushed away her tears and grinned. “You’re a nice guy, you know. Sweet.”

“Well, anyone else would feel the same—”

“I know that’s not true. Boy, do I know it.” She nodded toward the upstairs bedroom. “You wanna…you know, go upstairs?”

Ben closed his eyes. “No, Trixie. I don’t think that would be…” He struggled to find the right words. “We still need to talk. I know this has been hard for you. But I need to know how you became involved with this Kindergarten Club.”

She shrugged, disappointed, but unwilling to show it. “The Kindergarten Club was around long before me. I was a late entry. They drafted me to replace Carol Jo after she went back to L.A.”

“What exactly is it?”

“A bunch of gross old guys who worked together looking for some cheap easy thrills. They didn’t like to be seen on The Stroll or any of the usual places you’d go to pick up a…date for the evening. So they had this one guy, kind of the head creep, he made all the arrangements. He sent another guy out to gather us up and drive us to The Playground—that’s this place north of the city where no one else ever goes, including cops. The five of us girls would go out there, and then the men would show up, and we’d do…whatever.”

“What’s whatever?”

“Whatever they wanted. It changed from one night to the next. Usually some kind of weird show to get them worked up, then we’d finish off with the usual orgy.”

“The usual orgy?”

“That’s what they liked to call it. It really wasn’t an orgy, ’cause most of those guys weren’t good for more than one time, and only about thirty seconds at that.”

“What kind of a show?”

“Oh, we’d dress up in costumes, or we’d make a big deal of undressing. One time we stripped down and kind of messed with each other. They really liked that. Another time we let them pee on us. They got a big charge out of that, too. One time we tied some of them up and, you know, kind of teased their private parts. I wouldn’t let them tie me up, though. I drew the line there.”

Thank God. Ben’s teeth clenched tightly together. He wasn’t sure which was worse—thinking about her committing these acts, or hearing her recite them in such a matter-of-fact manner. “Why did you do this?”

“Because Sonny told me to. Besides, it paid very well. Every time the Club met, I could afford to take a night or two off, and sometimes Sonny would let me.” Her voice grew quieter. “That would make almost anything worthwhile.”

“This one guy you mentioned—the head creep. What did he look like?”

“I don’t know. I heard about him, but I never saw him.”

“Could you recognize these men if you saw them again?”

“Oh…possibly. You know, we’re told not to look the Johns in the face, and I think that’s usually sound advice.”

“Do you remember any of them?”

“I recognized one of them when I saw his picture in the paper. The one who got killed.”

Ben leaned forward eagerly. “What was his name?”

“I don’t remember, but he was the one who used to drive us out to The Playground.” Trixie crossed the room and took a folded newspaper out of the coat closet. “Here it is. I saved the paper.”

Ben glanced at it; he didn’t have to look long. It was the Tulsa World article about Howard Hamel’s murder. Hamel’s picture was on the top left corner of the page.

“When you saw this, didn’t it make you suspect you were in danger?”

“I already knew. I suspected when Angel disappeared.” Her eyes reddened. “He got her the day after her birthday. I’d given her a present—one of those necklaces with a gold heart torn in half. You know, she’d keep one half, I’d keep the other. It was supposed to symbolize being friends for life.” Her eyes focused on the carpet. “Some friendship. The next day, she was gone. And now she’s dead.”

“What did you do next?”

“Like I said, I was suspicious when Angel disappeared. But I was certain when they got Suzie and Barbara. I tried to save Bobbie Rae, but I was too late. And then he came after me.”

“Who?” Ben grasped her firmly by the shoulders. “Who came after you?”

“I don’t know. I never saw him. But he tried to kill that policeman, and the next day he was all over The Stroll looking for me.”

“That’s why you went into hiding. It wasn’t the police you were hiding from. It was the killer.”

“Right. But I didn’t have anywhere to hide out. Sonny was no help—he wanted me back on the street. I didn’t know where to go. I sure as hell wasn’t going to trust the police again. Buddy was the only person who offered to help. He has this place his grandmother left him. He said I could stay here.”

“Thank goodness,” Ben said under his breath. If Buddy hadn’t gotten her off the street…well, he preferred not to think about it. “Does Buddy live alone?”

“Yeah, other than me. He used to have this boyfriend, but it didn’t work out. So he had plenty of room for me.

“When we were looking for you, we were told to follow the pennies. If you don’t mind my asking, what’s the deal with the pennies?”

Her face flushed; for the first time, she seemed embarrassed. “Oh, that. That’s…nothing important.”

“I’m curious.”

“It’s just…see, I try to do nice stuff for people whenever I can, you know? Little rays of sunshine, I call them. Everything is so bad around here, it just seems like…well, any dumb thing might help. Sometimes I swipe change from a John’s pockets and buy flowers for the other girls. Or sometimes I whip up breakfast in bed—I do decent scrambled eggs. And whenever I get pennies, I throw them on the ground. You know, so other people can find them.”

“ ‘See a penny, pick it up, and all the day you’ll have good luck.’ ”

“Exactly.” Her cheeks were a bright crimson. “Super dumb, I know.”

Ben smiled. “I don’t think it’s dumb at all.”

She shifted awkwardly on the sofa. “Well, we all do what we can.”

“Let me ask you one last question.” Ben touched his side gingerly. “What was that you stabbed me with?”

“Oh!” She reached under the sofa cushions. “I was in the kitchen when you came in. I just grabbed the first two things I saw—the blade from Buddy’s electric mixer, and the extension cord.”

“That blade really stung,” Ben said. “I’m glad you didn’t have time to get to the cutlery.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry I hurt you. I really am. I was just so scared.” She placed her hand on his leg. “Are you sure there isn’t some way I can…make it up to you?”

“I’m sure there is.” Ben gently removed her hand and dropped it in her lap. “From now on, lock your front door.”