Chapter 5

Jerry was at his girlfriend’s house when Heather’s water broke and he didn’t answer his phone. She didn’t know the woman’s number and couldn’t take the time to call any of her dancer friends to ask them to try to find him because it was her first baby and she was a little freaked out at the pain of her contractions. A call to Tony resolved the issue. He was there within fifteen minutes and had her to the hospital fifteen minutes after that. Somehow, he knew how to help her breathe. He stopped just past the ER entrance and helped her out of the car.

“I wish I could go in there with you,” he said.

“I know,” she said. “I love you anyway.”

“I love you, too. Go have a baby.”

He drove away as she hobbled to the ER door and went in to get help.

Her labor lasted twelve hours and she delivered a boy who weighed seven pounds nine ounces and was twenty inches long. The baby was dark skinned, with kinky black hair and a flat nose. She intentionally named Robert Alveezo as the father of the child on the birth certificate, to document her enslavement. Bob had already told her to name the baby Robert Preston if it was a boy. He hadn’t specified a last name, probably because other women he’d gotten pregnant had put their own last names on the birth certificates. She never mentioned the birth certificate to Bob, or the legal last name of the baby to anyone she showed the child to. Five or six of her peers at school visited the hospital to see her and the baby and the furor Heather expected developed. She reminded people that this was purchased sperm, not sperm obtained in the usual manner, and the hubbub abated. Even then, some of her school “friends’” attitudes were a little frosty. Not everybody saw the baby, of course, but enough did who described what they saw that everybody knew what the baby looked like. Belinda Hawthorn inadvertently fueled the fire by saying, “I’m sorry, but seeing that little black baby sucking at her very white breast just looks wrong.”

Neither Bob nor Tony could come to the hospital to see the little boy, of course, and it was fully two weeks before Heather acceded to Bob’s demands to bring the baby to the club.

The dancers loved him, and that wasn’t just for Bob’s benefit. They all liked Heather and thought Bob had given her an exceedingly raw deal, but her willingness to have this child made it half hers in a way that the genetic side of things didn’t resonate with.

As soon as Jerry did find out she’d given birth he didn’t immediately visit her or ask how she was. The first thing he did was ask Bob how much his debt had been reduced.

“Not enough,” Bob growled. “I’ll let you know when your services are no longer needed.”

It was while Heather was on maternity leave from school, and “maternity leave” from the club, that a solution to her problems presented itself. She loved taking care of Robert Preston Alveezo, but he slept a lot and she got bored. Tony came by as often as he could, but that was infrequent. She wished he could be there all the time because seeing her son in his huge arms made her knees weak for some reason. While he was there one time she had been topless, feeding Robert, her other breast was dripping and Tony leaned down to lick and suck. He hadn’t done it with any forethought, nor had she thought about asking a man to test out her milk, but the result of his little, unthinking, but loving act, was shocking to both of them. He stood up, his eyes wide, and she said, “Don’t go anywhere. He’s almost finished.”

When Robert stopped, she burped him, changed his diaper, and put him down for a nap. Then she turned to Tony and said, “Suck more milk.”

At this point in her life Heather Mercer had been without sex for over a month and a half and her libido was hungry. For more than a year she had been laid at least once a day and quite often two or three times. Her body had adapted to that, and her mind had coped. Something had changed, though, and that was the fact that there was now a man she looked forward to having sex with. When Bob stopped because of the baby, Tony couldn’t fill in completely and then, since having the baby, she had been prohibited by the doctor for having sex for six weeks. It was in week three that this happened and she was horny out of her mind.

When Tony’s big lips fastened on a nipple, like they had so often in the past, and he started intentionally sucking, Heather got dizzy and almost had an orgasm. It was so different from how Robert sucked that it couldn’t really be compared. Tony emptied both breasts that day and used his fingers to bring her over the top. She then sucked his cock until he gave up what she wanted.

They couldn’t do that very often, of course, and one of the things she did to combat boredom was to download a crossword puzzle game on her laptop and spend a lot of time playing that. Typically, when she started a new puzzle, she went through everything on a sort of scan basis just to see what answers were obvious. Then she went back and forth, working the puzzle in the usual way. One day a clue was “He found T-men taxing” and she couldn’t think of anything. It was a six letter answer and all she had was the second and next to last letters, which were ‘a’ and ‘n’, respectively. Eventually she worked out that it was “Capone” and she couldn’t remember much about that so she looked it up on Wikipedia.

When she read that the crime boss didn’t get convicted of all the really bad stuff he did, including murders, and instead went to prison for tax evasion, she thought of Bob.

She knew that when Chuck went to the bank each morning he had a bag of cash. It was a large bag, even if it had been a slow night, the night before. She was quite sure, knowing Bob, that he didn’t pay taxes on everything. He constantly had meetings he called “business meetings” and was obviously engaged in enterprises other than the club.

She had photographs of what she believed were his illicit books. Would they be enough to get him arrested and convicted? Who should she even show them to?

Just as important: How would an investigation affect Tony?

It wasn’t that she ignored the fact that he had abetted criminal activity. She knew he was involved up to his neck in Bob’s business. But love ignores certain personal flaws and she knew Tony had a good heart. She didn’t believe, or at least hoped, that he’d never done anything really bad. She knew he would not help her. He said the less she knew the safer she was and if he found out she was trying to take Bob down he would try to stop her, for her own safety.

Well, that could go both ways. The less Tony knew, the safer he would be. When the time came, she would try to get leniency in his situation if he testified against Bob. Didn’t criminals get immunity in return for testifying against other criminals? She knew she had read or heard about that several times. If she got a guarantee like that, she might be able to beg him to testify and actually get somewhere. Maybe she could cut a deal for him in the process of giving the evidence to the police. She didn’t know. If she said, “I know somebody who knows where the bodies are buried but he won’t say a word unless he has total immunity,” would they just laugh at her?

And would they then say she had to tell them who it was or be arrested herself, for obstruction or something?

She didn’t want to do something that would jeopardize her future happiness with Tony, so she thought about it for another month. Then, one day a week from when she could go back to teaching, she was talking to a woman who ran a child care center in town, about taking care of Robert while she was teaching. The television was on and a news story came on about a shipping container that was found to contain thirty-seven dead bodies, identified only as people from Asia. They had been smuggled into the US and then abandoned for unknown reasons. They starved to death before anyone found them.

It was the cruelty and thoughtlessness of the situation that shocked Heather. She knew human trafficking took place. Everybody knew it. Nobody seemed to actually know someone who had been trafficked, though. In fact, people might have interacted with someone who had been trafficked, and never know about it at all, because the victims often never talk about it. Talking about it was a good way to get killed. So the vast majority of people went on about their daily lives without thinking about it, until a sensational news story like this one came along.

Heather was convinced Bob was in that business, or at least had dealings with other people in that business. She had very little evidence of that. There were snippets of conversation she overheard as he talked on the phone, or to a visitor in his office. She had become such a feature of his office that he often ignored his security protocols if she was there. And there were girls who showed up to dance, but then went missing. The other dancers said Bob sent them to “other clubs” and acted like it was routine for this to happen. But Bob didn’t own any other clubs, or at least never talked about them. And when she asked Tony about that, he said there was only Miss Kitty’s. Why would Bob recruit and hire a dancer, only to send her somewhere else?

She had to do something. She just didn’t know who to talk to. Eventually she did a search for “who investigates human trafficking.” There was a nationwide number to call, but that didn’t look like a law enforcement agency. The FBI was mentioned in another hit, but she didn’t think she could just call and say, “Hey, I think I know somebody who’s in that business,” and get any real response.

That night, while she anguished over it, a commercial came on the TV that she had seen dozens and dozens of times and never paid any real attention to. It was about a lawyer who promised to get you big bucks if you got in a car crash. She had always thought of it as visual spam, but now she thought: Lawyer. Lawyers knew about the law wouldn’t they know who would be interested in Bob’s activities? By the time her brain reasoned all this out the commercial was over. But it came on at least once an hour and the number was flashed on the screen at least ten times during each commercial. Consultations were free. The worst that could happen was that she’d be told to go pound sand.

She thought she had been rejected when the cheery, young-sounding female receptionist said, “That’s not the kind of law we practice.”

“Oh,” said Heather. “Could you refer me to somebody who does do this kind of law?”

“You said he’s a criminal,” said the girl. “What kind of crime?”

“The Al Capone kind,” said Heather. “He does all kinds of things. Drugs, maybe guns. I think he’s killed people. The problem is I don’t have very much evidence.”

“Just a minute,” said the girl, who didn’t sound quite so cheery.

Three long minutes later a man’s voice came on the phone.

“Hi. I’m Vick Nelson. Mandy tells me your name is Heather and you know about a murder. Is that anywhere close to being right? That’s a very serious allegation.”

“Yes, I know that,” said Heather. “My problem is I don’t know who was murdered, or when.”

“How do you know anybody was murdered at all, then?”

“Because I talked to a man who says he knows where the bodies are buried.”

“Bodies? As in more than one? Is this a crank call?”

“No!” she groaned. “I just don’t know who to talk to about this. I’m afraid that if I go to the local authorities they’re in this guy’s pocket. Never mind. I’ll call somebody else.”

“Wait!” came the voice. “Where are you?”

“Why does that matter?” she asked.

“If local law enforcement is dirty, maybe I can give you a name here. Our firm is in Franklin but we advertise all over the state. What I’m thinking is that, for a fee, we could work for you and protect your interests. We could find the right people and represent you in negotiations with law enforcement.”

“Negotiations? I don’t want to negotiate. I want to show them what I have and see if it will get him sent to prison.”

“Heather? Alas, in this day and age there are no innocent bystanders. The police can lie to you and it’s perfectly legal. You might have pure intentions, but the police are paid to be suspicious and anybody who knows anything about a murder is suspicious from the get-go.”

“Well, I don’t actually know about any murder, except a man I know says he knows about several. What I have actual evidence of ... maybe ... is pictures of what I think are his second set of business books. You know, the ones they don’t want the IRS to know about? I was alone in his office one day and I took some pictures with my phone. Usually those books are locked up in the safe in his wall, but he was distracted that day and I got a look at them. I thought they might show evidence of human trafficking, because that’s something I’m sure he’s into, but I don’t know if what I got is worth anything or not. The pictures show dates and names and dollar amounts.”

“I see. Well, I could look at the pictures and give you my own impression. I was a prosecutor before I decided to make some money with my law degree.”

“And you want me to pay you?” said Heather.

“I want you to retain my firm,” he said. “I will charge you one dollar for an initial consultation. After that, it will depend on how things shake out. If we can show you have been victimized, we can sue and my firm would get paid with a portion of whatever we get from that.”

“I can’t come to Franklin,” she said. “That’s way too far.”

“Okay. I’ll send one of my investigators to talk to you and get copies of these photographs. He’ll ask you some questions and we’ll see what we can do. Fair?”

“I’m nervous about this,” she said.

“If there is murder involved, you should be. It’s up to you. You’re going to have to trust somebody. How far away from Franklin are you?”

“I’m in Hoisington.”

“Hoisington. That’s the other side of the state. Hang on.”

The line went quiet for what seemed like a long time and then the voice came back.

“It happens that we have a client in Jethro, which is only forty minutes from Hoisington, or so Greg tells me. When can he come see you?”

“I’m on maternity leave for five more days,” she said. “Then I have to go back to work.”

“And it sounds like you work for the suspect,” said Vick.

“In a manner of speaking, yes. I’m a school teacher but my husband got into debt with this man so I have to work for him on weekends to help pay off our debt.”

“So he’s a loan shark,” said Vick.

“Among other things. He has his fingers into everything. If you can make a buck at it, he’s interested.”

“Did this man seize any collateral or assets when your husband couldn’t repay the loan?”

“No. Nothing was said about things like that. He just demanded that I work off my husband’s debt by ... I’m not sure I want to get into that part. If people I know found out what I’m doing my reputation would be ruined. I’m a teacher and that’s all I want to do. If this gets out, I’ll never be able to teach again because nobody would ever hire me.”

“Heather, if we work together, we’re going to have to be very open and honest with each other. Have you been forced into the sex trade?”

“Yes,” she said, softly.

“Is he making you turn tricks?”

“If only it were that simple,” she sighed. “I doubt you’ll believe what I’ve been required to do.”

“Remember, I was a prosecutor for six years. You have no idea what I’ll believe.”

“So do you think you can help me?”

“Heather, I’m salivating at the thought of trying. I make my money off of accidents and negligence. It would be nice to take some money from a criminal, for once.”

He asked how to contact her and said a man named Greg would contact her. He said Greg would call before initiating physical contact, to make sure it was safe for him to see her.

“When?” she asked.

“Tomorrow,” said Vick.

“Oh! That’s sooner than I expected,” she said.

“Why wait?” he asked. “You either have something actionable or you don’t. Why not find out now?”

“And you might take him to court?”

“No. It won’t be me who does that. I’m not that kind of trial attorney, anymore. But I have lots of friends who do the kind of thing you’re talking about and they love their jobs, as long as they think they can win. Let’s see what you have, first, and then decide what to do with it.”

“So, if you won’t be the trial attorney, what will you be doing?”

“I will be trying to figure out a way to make you very rich, Heather, and me mildly rich along with you.”

Greg called her at nine-thirty the next morning.

“I didn’t expect you this early,” she said.

“I like to drive at night,” he replied. “Are you clear for a visit or do you want to meet me somewhere for breakfast?”

“I had breakfast hours ago,” she said, “about the same time my son required me to feed him.”

“How old is your son?”

“He was born five weeks ago.”

“Ahhh, so no, you do not want to meet me somewhere and have to bring Junior along. I can come to your place. I just want to make sure it won’t raise any eyebrows. I’d prefer your neighbors didn’t see me come and go.”

“Why’s that?” she asked.

“You’re of the Caucasian persuasion. My ancestors hail from deepest, darkest Africa.”

She giggled.

“You’re a little late to the scandal. Come on over. Do you know where I live?”

“I know lots and lots about you,” said Greg. “I have a copy of your driver’s license picture in my hand as we speak. Will your husband be home when I get there?”

“My husband will never be home,” she said. “That’s part of this story.”

“Be there in twenty,” said the man.

Heather got dressed. She had only put on a robe when Robert got her up to be fed and changed. She tried to spend as much time as possible naked, because that meant she’d see herself and the sagging pooch that was left over from Robert’s birth. She was working hard to make her abdomen flat again and seeing what she needed to work on helped motivate her to work on it. She had contemplated showing that wrinkled pooch to Bob and saying she couldn’t dance, but she knew he wouldn’t just let her off the hook. If she wasn’t getting tips dancing, he’d probably just pimp her out. There had been no negotiations about when the next child and reduction in debt would take place, but she didn’t want to do it six weeks out of the gate. Robert was a handful. Teaching would be a handful. And dancing was a handful. She only had two hands, so she decided to try to fly under Bob’s radar for a while. She wanted to go on birth control so she wouldn’t have to worry but she didn’t know whether Bob would allow that or not.

She was brushing her hair when he rang the bell. She picked up Robert and cradled him in one arm to answer the door. He’d need some kind of attention sooner or later – probably sooner – and if she already had him she could take care of whatever was needed without stopping the interview.

Greg smiled at the woman who opened the door. He looked at the baby in her arms and blinked.

“Is this the baby we were talking about?” he asked.

“He is,” she said.

“I can see why you weren’t worried about the neighbors seeing me. It’s fairly obvious I’m not the first black man to darken your doorway.”

Heather looked over the slim man who stood before her. His clothes weren’t expensive, but they weren’t cheap, either. He wore glasses and had a short goatee. He was a little taller than she was and when he smiled she saw a gold tooth. If not for the tooth he’d look perfectly at home on a university campus.

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The Extortion of Heather Mercer

Lubrican

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