you’re going to need these.”
Trinity looked up to see a canary yellow, two-piece bathing suit dangling from Connie’s fingers, a wicked grin spread across her friend’s mouth. Trinity might take a swimsuit, but it would definitely not be that particular one. The scrap of material barely covered her most prized possessions.
“Connie, you can put those items back where you found them. This is not a pleasure trip.” Trinity went back to packing. She grabbed her toiletries from the bathroom and stuffed them in her carry-on suitcase.
“I know it won’t be professional for you to have any fun on this trip with the hunk.”
“His name is Gunner.”
“Okay, then I know it won’t be any fun on this trip with Gunner, the hunk, but what if it—”
“It won’t.”
“Or what if he—”
“He won’t.”
Connie threw the rolled-up pair of socks that she had in her hand at Trinity, who caught it before it made contact with her head.
“Stop that and let me finish my sentence!”
“Violent, are we?” Trinity teased.
“If you keep up this attitude, you’re going to end up an old maid who lives with nine cats,” Connie said and disappeared into the closet, but soon returned with a pair of red do-me-baby stilettos. “You never know when love might find you, but at this rate and with this negative attitude of yours, you’re going to miss it!”
Trinity continued packing, adding the shoes that Connie put near the bed to one of the larger suitcases sitting on the floor. She tuned Connie out as she went on her usual rant regarding Trinity’s love life, or lack thereof. Ever since Connie started dating Todd, a guy from her cooking class, she’d been pointing out the fact that Trinity wasn’t seeing anyone and hadn’t had a date in months.
As far as Trinity was concerned, getting her business to turn a profit was her main goal. Besides, right now, she didn’t have anything to offer anyone. She had too many balls in the air and she refused to let any of them fall by taking her eyes off her aspirations. This time next year, she wanted LEPA to have a solid list of clients and she wanted her homeless shelter up and running. Every aspect of her life was wrapped up into those two objectives.
“It’s getting late. Are you still planning to visit your homeless friends, or should I say your peeps, this evening?” Connie asked.
Trinity glanced at her Michael Kors watch, last year’s birthday present to herself. Connie was right—if she didn’t leave soon, it would be dark before she made it to the outskirts of Skid Row, a heavy populated area where the homeless resided in downtown Los Angeles.
“I’m glad you said something.” Trinity placed a few more items in the suitcase. She grabbed the bag of clothes that was set aside for Lucy, a homeless woman that Trinity went to see a couple of times a month. “I still think you should go with me. I might need you to check on Lucy, Fred and Henry while I’m gone.”
Connie, who was sitting on the bed near the suitcase, looked at her as if she had lost her mind. “You know I can’t handle being around homeless people. If that makes me a horrible person, I’m sorry, but unlike you, I can’t stomach the area where they live or the condition in which they live.”
Trinity moved the suitcase and sat next to her friend as she slipped into her tennis shoes. “It doesn’t make you a bad person. I remember when my mom moved Maxwell and me from Vegas to Los Angeles. We were homeless, living out of her raggedy car that barely got us to LA, and eating one meal a day until some of her relatives took us in.”
Trinity would never forget hearing her mother’s sobs fill the interior of the car when she thought that she and Maxwell were asleep. Even as a child, Trinity had started planning for the homeless shelter that she would one day open.
“As a cop, I remember the first time I worked the area. I was a mess. My heart broke for each and every homeless person I came in contact with. I just wanted to take them home with me or find suitable housing for all of them.” Trinity adjusted her pant legs and stood. “That’s why I have to get this homeless shelter up and running. Every night when I curl up in my warm bed or eat a hot meal, I think of them. We live in one of the richest countries in the world. As far as I’m concerned, there is no excuse for anyone to be homeless.”
“But I thought you said that many of them prefer to stay where they are, that they’re choosing to be homeless.”
“Yeah, but not all of them.” Trinity would never forget the time that she had found an opening at a woman’s shelter for Lucy. The woman had refused to go, claiming it was unsafe and that people would steal her stuff.
“That’s unbelievable. I can’t imagine choosing the streets over a warm bed.”
Trinity stood near the dresser, looking into the mirror. She pulled a lightweight sweatshirt over her head and exchanged her expensive watch for the one that she used when working in the yard.
“I want to have a place available to those who’ve fallen on hard times and do want to get off the streets.”
“And if anyone can do it, I know you can.” Connie slid off the bed and grabbed her large handbag from the chair near the window. “Is Jesse able to check on your peeps while you’re away?”
Trinity nodded with a hair clip between her teeth. She pulled back her hair and put it into a ponytail. Jesse was one of her old partners at the LAPD, a good friend, who often worked the area near Skid Row.
“Yeah, he said he’ll keep an eye on them while I’m away.”
“Okay, but in the meantime, you be careful down there.”
Trinity turned off the bedroom light and followed Connie out of the room and down the short hallway to the small living room area of her Hollywood Hills condominium. Trinity didn’t know what to expect with regard to where she’d be living when she went to Vegas, but she was definitely going to miss her cheery condo. During her time on the police force, most days she couldn’t wait to get home. She looked forward to her walls painted with bright colors, her large bay window that let in lots of sunlight, and most important, she loved the cozy environment that she had created. The intimate space kept her grounded...and sane.
“Do you still want me to pick you up at six in the morning?” Connie asked, standing at the door, her hand on the doorknob.
“Definitely, that should give me plenty of time to get to the airport and check my bags.”
“All right then, I’ll see you in the morning. Be safe out there.”
Forty-five minutes later, Trinity found a parking spot near San Pedro Street. She did a once-over of her attire, ensuring that she had remembered to leave anything of value at home. Most times when she visited, she didn’t have any problems, but every now and then some fool approached her thinking that she was an easy target. Just in case, she had a small handgun in her ankle holster and a Swiss Army Knife shoved down into the pocket of her jeans.
She climbed out of the car and grabbed the supplies that she had specifically brought for Lucy, Fred and Henry. Since the day they helped her catch a man who had robbed several
