thought about the man she owed the favour to. His name was Jack. He promised to protect me … but will he?
Brandy had met Jack a month ago. It was the week before Christmas when he’d come into the lounge where she worked. She’d guessed him to be in his late thirties or early forties, but despite the age difference, she was attracted to him and hoped their relationship would develop further than the friendly banter. She also hoped he would never find out she was a call girl … or perhaps had been a call girl, because after meeting him, she intended to quit.
It turned out he already knew. Any thought she had of developing a personal relationship with him dissolved when she sat beside him in the lounge that night at closing time and sold him an ounce of cocaine. He did not pay her for the cocaine, opting instead to flash his badge and tell her she had two choices. Either be arrested or become his informant.
She started to cry. It was a response that worked with most men.
“Cut the crap,” he said harshly, “and listen.”
Most men, not all. She quit crying instantly and listened. He promised that if she became his informant, he would protect her. Nobody else would know, with the exception of his partner, to whom he’d introduce her if she agreed. He said he wanted her to help him catch her cocaine connection.
Her mind had felt numb. “I’m not sure what to say,” she replied.
“You don’t have a criminal record yet,” Jack said. “Someday you’ll probably have a family. How do you tell your children that you can’t ever take them to Disneyland because you’re a convicted drug dealer?”
Brandy slumped in her chair. When she spoke, her voice came out as a whisper. “Okay … I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I’ll do what you want.”
“There is one more thing to keep in mind before you say anything,” said Jack. “If you ever lie to me … ever … I will find out and all deals are off. Understood?”
Brandy nodded. “I won’t lie, but I only know him as Clive.”
Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a mug shot. It was Clive.
“You already knew,” she said, confused. “Why are you hassling me if —”
“I need help catching him. I don’t even know where he lives.”
“I don’t know, either,” she protested, fearing that Jack wouldn’t believe her, “but he told me he was going to Mexico for Christmas.”
“Do you know who he went with?”
“Nope, but he sort of joked about taking me with him.”
“To mule-back coke?”
Brandy stared momentarily at Jack, then said, “He hinted at that once. Said he could provide me with a fake passport so that if I had a record, customs would wave me through. I told him I don’t have a record, but I know enough about Mexican jails that I would never chance it. Did you ever see that movie where a guy went to jail in —”
“Where does he get the passports?”
“I don’t know,” Brandy replied indignantly. “It’s not something you ask.”
Jack met her gaze. “Who else does he hang with?”
Brandy sighed loudly. She disliked being questioned. When she saw Jack frown, she said, “I’ve only seen him with one other person.”
“Who?”
“I don’t think it’s who you’re looking for. This guy doesn’t strike me as the type to take orders from Clive, let alone mule coke.”
“What’s his name? What’s does he look like?”
“I only know him as Klaus. Steroid monkey with a tat on his neck. Dresses like a gangster with all the bling. He’s got a shaved head, wears a ball cap sideways — the thing’s too big.” Brandy shook her head to show her distaste. “Makes him look like a pinhead. I like guys who can protect me, but not if they look stupid.”
“Keep going,” said Jack.
“You know, the typical loose pants that show the crack of his ass.”
“I get the picture, but what’s the tattoo on his neck?”
“Oh, that. I only saw the top of it poking up above his collar. Looked like a crab claw, so maybe he’s a Cancer. You know, like in the horoscope. I’m a Virgo. What are you?”
Jack ignored her question. “Do you have a contact number for Clive?”
“I did, but it’s not working now. He’s always changing phones. I’ll have to wait until he comes in to get his new number.”
Jack gave her a long, cold stare, then said, “I’ll give you my numbers. Write them on a piece of paper. I don’t want you carrying my business card. If either Clive or Klaus come in, call me immediately. I want to follow them and find out where they live.”
“Okay.”
“When he’s not in Mexico, how often do you see him?”
“About once a week.”
“How much coke do you get from him?”
“Usually an ounce, sometimes more.”
“And what do you pay for it?”
“I, uh, pay about …”
“I warned you once what will happen if you lie,” Jack said.
Brandy felt dismayed. “You know about that, too, don’t you.”
“That you’re hooking and trade sex for coke,” he said flatly.
Brandy sighed. “Yes, but there’s something about Clive I don’t like. I was going to break it off with him. He gives me bad vibes.”
“How many times have you, uh, been with him?” Jack asked.
“Maybe a dozen, but he’s becoming nasty in the way he treats me.”
“For my purposes, could you handle another session with him if you had to?”
Brandy grimaced. “I guess so. He is generous. He gives me an ounce each time we, uh, spend an hour alone together.”
“An ounce of coke for an hour … you must be good.”
At that, Brandy had felt a little surge of optimism. “If you’d like to find out, the first one’s on me. Actually, not just the first one. I could see you being my boy —”
“Time for you to meet my partner.” Jack had nodded in the direction of a woman sitting at the bar.
* * *
Brandy
