thought that it would have taken law enforcement so long to figure that out, but bureaucratic inertia sometimes takes a while to overcome.”
I nodded. “I was in the army,” I said. “I understand how large organizations work. Let me ask, then, where do the kids go now if they don’t go to juvenile hall? Some sort of shelter?”
“A shelter or back to their home if it’s possible, although a lot of the kids can’t go home. Like with Isabel, a lot of kids had their problems start at home in the first place.”
I pictured Tracey Webber. “I agree 100 percent with that,” I said. “There’s no way Isabel can go back home with her stepfather still in the picture.”
“Agreed,” Nancy said.
“Any hints on the best way to tackle finding Isabel?” Toni asked. “I think we’re basically planning to treat it like a missing person case.”
“We don’t spend much time hunting down specific individuals,” Nancy said. “But I think you’re probably on the right track. You said the mother was going to file a missing person report? When she does, that will get the case entered into the NCIC and WACIC databases. After that, like you say, it’s pretty basic stuff-a lot of interviewing and legwork.”
“But it’s made all the more difficult because your subject is a minor,” Tyrone added. “She’s not going to be leaving any electronic traces-no credit cards, no bank withdrawals, nothing like that.”
Nancy thought about this for a second. “On the other hand, there are a few things that might help you out. First, if there’s a gang involved-and odds are that there is-then you might be able to work another angle and get some help from our Gang Unit. They might have some information on the gang itself. Can I see those text messages again? What were the names of the people Isabel ran into?” She looked over the transcripts.
“Crystal, Donnie, and Mikey.” She turned to Tyrone. “Any of these sound familiar to you?”
He thought about it and then shook his head. “No.” He looked at me. “But don’t read anything into that. Unless we’re dialed in on someone as a subject of one of our investigations, we probably wouldn’t bump into them during our normal course of business, and we’d have no reason to know their names. The Gang Unit might, though. They bounce around in those circles all the time. I’ll hook you up with those guys before you leave.”
“Thanks,” I said.
Nancy continued. “The second thing is that, as I was saying, whoever Isabel’s gotten herself involved with is going to try and prostitute her-most likely on the Internet. That may be what led to this last message-the one that reads ‘too good to be true.’ She may have finally been exposed to the big picture-the timing seems about right. She might have even tried to resist. As distasteful as it is, I’d start monitoring the Backpage.com website. Leave us a picture, and we’ll keep an eye out, too. That’s something we can do-we monitor Backpage all the time anyway. That’s where most of the pimps run their ads. There’s a reasonable chance that you’ll see a picture of Isabel in some provocative pose posted there. Brace yourself.”
The thought disgusted me, but the tactic made sense.
“Another lead we can give would be to talk to Annie Hooper at Angel House. Angel House is actually a series of houses that the city has recently purchased and fitted out as safe long-term places where these girls can live while they’re trying to break free from their pimps. They keep the locations pretty secret, and they’re heavily securitized, although from the outside, they look just like a regular house. Each house takes six or eight girls. They’re able to stay in a safe, structured place without having to worry about their pimps coming after them. If you’d like, I can call Annie and see if she’d agree to a meeting.”
“That would be great,” Toni said.
“Annie likes to encourage her girls to speak out. She feels that it can be therapeutic for them if she can get a girl to the point where she’s actively trying to help other girls break free. It’s possible one of her girls might recognize these names. If it’s okay with you, I’ll pass on that information as well and get back to you with meeting arrangements.”
“Fantastic,” I said. “That’d be a big help.”
“I wish we could do more,” she said, “but we’re not set up to hunt down individuals. It sounds like what you were planning is the right approach-you need to do some missing-person-type work to try and find Isabel.”
“Agreed,” I said. “We specialize in missing persons. I’m betting that we’ll find her.”
“Good. When you do, I’d like you to call us before you try any sort of intervention. It could be that us going after her pimp might be the safest way to rescue Isabel. Besides, if Isabel’s pimp is a gang member-highly likely- then that makes it quite probable that he’s armed and dangerous. We can certainly match our resources to the specific problem. We should definitely work together.”
“Agreed,” I said again. “We’ll gladly take whatever help you’re willing to provide.”
Chapter 5
Nancy called Annie Hooper before we left and put in a good word for us. It must have worked because Annie agreed to meet us for lunch at noon at a popular Caribbean-style restaurant in Fremont called Paseo. “Do you know where it’s at?” Toni asked as we headed north. I was trying to get on Highway 99, but it was closed throughout a good part of the city for construction work.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s on Fremont Avenue just north of Forty-Second Street. Just off 99.”
“You ever been there?”
“No. But they have one in Ballard-I’ve been to that one. It’s spicy stuff. You’ll like it.”
“Good,” she said. We fell back into silence for a few minutes.
“Did you ever do it with a prostitute?” she asked.
I suppose I should have seen this coming.
“Why do you ask?”
“I’m just curious.”
“Would it make a difference to you if I had?”
She thought about this. “Maybe,” she said. “Depends on the circumstances.” She turned to me. “Why? Did you?”
I stared straight ahead and didn’t answer for a minute. She continued to look at me.
“I came close once,” I said. “Long time ago.” I paused for a few moments.
“What do you mean-‘close’?”
I turned onto Aurora at Denny. I finally had a clear ramp to get on 99 northbound. “It was at Fort Benning in Georgia. We’d just graduated from Advance Infantry Training like two days before New Year’s. I was all of eighteen years old. We’d all just received our new assignments and were set to ship out the next week. Three of my buddies and I had passes for New Year’s Eve, so we were out to do some celebrating. Naturally, we got completely shit- faced at one of the local redneck bars down there and-well-there was this place you could go-this house. One of the guys heard about it, so we got a cab to take us there. Turned out to be a full-on whorehouse-set way back up off a country road. Had a red light out front and everything. The place was full of soldiers-soldiers everywhere. We actually had to wait our turn. But they had beer and loud music, and everyone was hootin’ and hollerin’ and having a good time, so we didn’t care. I was young and stupid.”
“What happened?”
“We finally got our turn and went inside,” I said. “They had this lineup of girls-women really-they were older than I’d expected. They all looked like they were in their thirties-maybe forties even.” Despite being halfway drunk at the time, I remembered the lineup. I guess something like that is one of those things that gets permanently burned into your mind’s memory chips.
“Were any of them cute?”
I shrugged. “A little, I suppose. They weren’t ugly. Remember, I was a little shit-faced by then. Anyway, I was last in our group to pick. When it got to be my turn, I looked at the four women who were standing there.” I shrugged, seeing the women in my mind. “They were okay-looking, I suppose. They were all wearing this slinky lingerie, supposed to make ’em look sexy. And as I looked at them, that’s when it hit me.” I shook my head. “They didn’t look sexy. Far from it, really. They actually looked kind of sad. I looked in their eyes and
