Vicious Cycle (13 page)

He heard Turk in the cell next to him, screaming profanity and threatening Cash across the hall, as if he could pull a Superman and bust through the door. Lance wanted to tell him to shut up, that he was only hurting himself. But he kept quiet, his arm over his mouth, muffling the sounds of his own despair.

B
arbara woke at four the next morning, groggy from a labored night of shallow dreams. As she made a pot of coffee, she wondered what Lance’s night had been like. Had he suffered in lockdown? Had he felt betrayed?

She prayed that Jordan was safe, that she was coherent, that she would come to her senses and tell the truth. What condition must the girl be in after having a baby at home and being beaten by her mother? Barbara hoped Jordan was alive.

As she drank her coffee, she read Scripture, searching for wisdom that could guide her through these rough waters. It was Sunday, but she didn’t feel free to go to church. Her son needed her. If she could get him out today, then maybe tonight they could all worship together.

At eight, she drove to the hospital, again hoping that
she’d catch Jordan checking on her child. But there was still no one there for the nameless little Rhodes baby.

The nurse allowed her to rock the tiny bundle, and Barbara fought back tears as she did. The child looked a little stronger today, and they had her in a little pink T-shirt. Some kind nurse had fluffed her wispy curls, and they circled her little head like a brown halo.

God, please give this little girl a good life. She’s going to need an extra measure of help from You.

She ran her knuckle along the baby’s cheek, and their eyes met. In that moment, as innocence and trust blinked up at her, Barbara felt a fierce sense of protection. But the baby wasn’t hers to protect.

She couldn’t even protect her own children.

Through her tears, she saw movement outside the display window, where relatives and visitors could peer in at their little miracles. Maureen Rhodes stood in the hallway, talking to a nurse. Barbara caught her breath. Could Jordan be with her?

Maureen would scream or hiss like a character from
Invasion of the Body Snatchers
if she saw Barbara with the baby. She looked around for a way of escape. If she went out the door she’d come in, Maureen would see her. But there was another door that exited into the adjacent hall. She quickly returned the child to the bassinet and made sure nothing had pulled loose. The nurse came toward her. “Are you leaving so soon?”

“Yes, I have to go.” Barbara glanced at the window again. “Her grandmother’s coming, and … we don’t get along.”

The nurse turned and looked through the window as Barbara slipped out.

In the hall, Barbara leaned against the wall. Her forehead
was sticky with perspiration, though a chill hung in the air. She felt like she’d just committed a crime. If Maureen saw her here, she’d probably call the police.

Barbara waited for several minutes, then walked quietly to the corner and peered around. Maureen was gone. Forcing herself to breathe, Barbara moved toward the nursery window. Maureen had gone inside, but the door was still open behind her.

Jordan was nowhere in sight. The nurse led Maureen to the baby. Maureen showed no emotion. She didn’t melt when she saw the baby, and she didn’t try to pick her up. Her shrill voice carried over the room full of fragile babies, as she coldly questioned the nurse about the baby’s condition.

No wonder Jordan put her baby in Lance’s car. What kind of person was Maureen?

Lord, please don’t let them release the baby until this is sorted out.

She had to find Jordan—not just for Lance’s sake, but for the baby’s as well.

She decided to leave by the stairwell, just in case. As she headed down to the lobby, her cell phone rang. She dove into her purse for it. The caller ID said “New Day.”

She clicked it on. “Hello?”

“Mom?”

“Emily, did you find out anything?”

“Yes, I did,” she said, her voice low. “Nobody wanted to talk in front of Tammy last night, because she’s new and she may not stay. None of us would ever rat out a dealer in front of people we didn’t trust. Anything could happen.”

“Then you think Jordan’s with a dealer?”

“Probably,” she said. “She hangs out a lot with a dealer named Belker. He works from several different locations. He has a mobile meth lab, so he can move fast. But the Serene
Motel is one of his favorite places, and it’s closest to where Jordan lives.”

Barbara stopped on a landing. “Emily, do you know this guy?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Yeah, he sells other drugs too, not just meth. I used to buy from him sometimes.”

“And you don’t know his full name?”

“Just Belker.”

“Do you have a phone number or anything?”

“Not anymore. But, Mom, I could be wrong. I just know that she was close to Belker, and she hung out with him a lot. He even put her to work doing things to pay for her drugs.”

“Put her to work? Doing what?”

“Mom,” Emily said, as if Barbara should know what she meant. “She doesn’t even know who the baby’s father is. He put her to work … selling what she has.”

Barbara’s heart sank. Jordan had just had a baby, and she’d been beaten and abused. Would this Belker person abuse her so quickly after that?

Evil weighed down on her, heavy and smothering. What was she going to do?

“Mom, if you figure out where she is, don’t go all Super Woman. I know how you are.”

“I won’t. Kent is here. He’s helping me.”

“Oh.” The word fell flat. “How did
he
know about all this?”

“I called him. I didn’t ask him to come, but I’m glad he did.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

Barbara didn’t have time to analyze that reaction. “Emily, don’t waste any of your phone calls today. If you hear anything else, please call me back.”

“I will. Lance better get out today. All the girls want to tell him good-bye. And I want him at my graduation tomorrow.”

“So do I,” Barbara said. “So do I.”

As soon as she hung up, she called Kent and told him what Emily had said.

“All right,” he said. “I’m on my way to meet the chief of police. I’ll ask him if he knows about this guy Belker.”

“If they know him, wouldn’t they have arrested him?”

“Probably have. But they get out. Just wait for me, Barbara. Don’t go anywhere without me, okay?”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

“Because you will.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t. Just hurry, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll call you the minute I’m out of this meeting.”

B
arbara didn’t want to go home and just wait, so she went to a nearby Burger King and ate a breakfast croissant in her car. This reminded her so much of that time a year ago, when she’d been in Atlanta, eating alone while waiting to hear word on Emily’s whereabouts. She had never wanted to be in this situation again.

When she finished eating, she drove around aimlessly, waiting for Kent’s call. She drove down the street where she worked, pulled into the parking lot, and into the space where she parked every day. The store was closed on Sundays, so the lot was empty. She checked her watch. Only a few minutes had passed. Maybe she should just go home and wait.

Then she saw someone at the Dumpster on the side of the parking lot, pulling out a large cardboard box that had once held a recliner. Reflexively, she checked her door lock.

Then she saw the man’s coat.

It was J.B., in the coat she’d given him yesterday. She started the car, drove toward the Dumpster, and rolled her window down. “J.B.?”

He dropped the box as if he’d been caught stealing.

“J.B., it’s okay. You can have that box if you need it.”

Recognition cleared his eyes. He stepped toward her car. “Did my mother send me anything?”

“No, I haven’t seen her since I gave you the jacket.” She wanted to tell him that Charlotte was going through chemo, that her cancer was eating her alive. But that might make him feel so guilty he would self-medicate again. Or worse, it might make him go home and force Charlotte to deal with him. No, she couldn’t tell him that.

Then it occurred to her that he might know Jordan. “J.B., can I talk to you for a minute?”

He came closer, and the breeze whipped his scent in. He smelled unbathed and drenched in smoke, and his breath was rotten, as if something inside him was dying and decaying.

“I need your help.”

“Mine?” He stared blankly. “You need my help?”

“I’m looking for a girl. Her name’s Jordan Rhodes. She’s really sick right now and she’s been beaten. Do you know her?”

He shrugged. “I know a girl named Jordan. She’s a kid. Like fourteen or something. She was pregnant, but now she’s not.”

Barbara’s heart jolted. If he knew she was no longer pregnant, then he’d seen her in the last twenty-four hours. “She’s fifteen, and she had the baby yesterday. I need to find her. Where is she?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes glossy. “I need cash,” he said.

“J.B., I can’t give you money. But I’ve helped you in other ways, and you know it. I need you to help me now. Please, tell me where I can find her.”

“Just ten bucks,” he demanded.

She stared into his red eyes, and her gaze swept over his leathery face and jaundiced skin. What if she gave him the money that bought the hit that killed him? No, she couldn’t do that. She’d never be able to look Charlotte in the eye again if she did.

“No money, J.B.”

“A hotel room then. It’s gonna get cold tonight.”

A hotel room. Yes, she could do that. “All right,” she said. “Get in. Show me where she is, and I’ll get you a room.”

He abandoned the cardboard box that would have been his home tonight and got into the car.

She pulled out of the parking lot. “Is she at the Serene Motel?”

“Yeah,” he said.

“Do you know what room?”

“The one on the corner. First floor. I’ll show you.”

“How long has she been there?”

“Saw her last night,” he said.

Barbara got quiet, knowing she promised Kent and Emily that she wouldn’t go there alone. She would just let J.B. point the room out to her, and then she would take him somewhere else.

She was quiet as she drove. “J.B., I know it’s cold out, and tomorrow, you won’t have a room. But you can always call New Day’s men’s program. They’ll take you in and help you get your life straightened out.”

“My life is straight. I’m doing what I want.”

“You want to sleep outside in cardboard boxes? If you got clean, you could get a job, a place to live—”

“Job doing what?”

“Lots of things.”

“Nobody’s telling me what to do. I’m my own boss.”

His logic made no sense, but she couldn’t make him see it. His mother had tried many times. “Just remember, New Day is a safe place to sleep every night for a year. Good food. And a chance at a future.”

As she reached the Serene Motel, she didn’t turn into the parking lot. Instead, she pulled into a McDonald’s across the street and parked in a space facing the motel. “J.B., point out her room for me.”

“That corner one … see, that one at the back there? Left of the stairs. She was there last night. All I know.”

She stared at the room’s door. It looked quiet, not like a drug dealer’s place of business. She supposed everything was different at night.

She went to the drive-through, got J.B. some food, then drove him to the Day’s Inn up the street. She went into the office with him and paid for a night’s stay with her credit card. She gave him the key card, then watched him go into his room, carrying his little bag of breakfast. She hoped he remembered to eat it.

At least he’d get some sleep and be warm for a little while.

As she drove away, she thought of Emily’s phone call and her familiarity with the dealers who would still be accessible to her after her graduation. It would be so easy for her to get drugs again. In one moment of weakness, she could relapse. When she got out of rehab tomorrow, how would she stand?

Barbara had so hoped that things would be stress-free when Emily came home. That she could pick up where she left off in the family, before the drugs. That she’d get a job
until school started in January, make new friends, rebuild her life.

But now she would come home to this crisis that was overshadowing everything. It wasn’t fair. It would be hard for Emily to make it under the best of circumstances. How would she make it now?

She went back to McDonald’s, sat in the parking lot with her car facing the Serene Motel, and waited to hear from Kent. Then they would go in and find Jordan.

I
t didn’t take long for Kent to get a message to the chief of police through the sergeant he’d met at the department last night. Though it was Sunday, the chief called him and offered to meet at a Starbucks.

Kent found the chief sitting in a corner, wearing a suit and tie and checking his BlackBerry. “Chief Levin?” Kent said.

The man stood, smiling like an old friend. “Kent! Great to see you in person. I followed the Emily Covington case real closely last year. Good work. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“You too. Thanks.”

The chief straightened his tie. “Sorry about the suit, but I’m an usher at church. Heading there after we talk.” He motioned for Kent to take a seat. “You want coffee?”

“No, thanks. I don’t want to keep you any longer than
I have to.” He told the chief about Lance’s relationship to Emily and about his own connection to the family. “He’s a great kid. I believe his story that this girl who accused him of kidnapping was being pressured by her mother. Check Maureen Rhodes’s rap sheet. She’s got a pretty long criminal record.”

“I did before I came. You’re right.”

“So what I’m wondering is if I can use some of your resources while I’m here. I’d like to use your databases and have access to the detective working the case.”

“Yeah, that would be Bob Dathan. I’ll tell him to share what he has with you. He’s young, just passed the detective exam three months ago, so he could learn from your experience.”