Читать книгу MIA: Missing In Atlanta - Debby Giusti - Страница 6

A streetlight glowed in the cold night air, throwing shadows across the faces of the people Jude passed. An empty cigarette pack littered the sidewalk along with fast-food wrappers and the want-ad section of the newspaper, all strewn like rubble across the cracked cement.

Rap music blasted a message of violence and despair from the stream of motorists who cruised the streets, looking for…?

Jude could only imagine.

A plastic bag of powder? Enough crank or ice or speed to drown out the reality of life on the street.

And what was Jude looking for? He’d pounded the pavement for hours, lost in his own world of unanswered questions. Did he really think he could find Nicole?

She was probably far from this area of unfulfilled dreams, living the good life that didn’t include an army guy she’d met by chance at a coffee shop six months ago.

He let out an aggravated breath. Had he deluded himself, thinking fate had brought them together?

Nicole’s take had been less romantic and more realistic.

“Baby, it’s just that our paths crossed for a moment in time.”

And then she’d moved on?

Is that why she’d given him the wrong address?

And what about her e-mail and disconnected phone service? Surely that was overkill.

Unless she was running away. From what?

A two-week relationship filled with the promise of developing into something more?

Jude tugged at his Windbreaker. The temperature had dropped significantly with the setting sun.

At least he’d changed into civilian clothes. No reason to advertise he was military. Plus he doubted people would be forthcoming talking to a man in uniform.

Up ahead two women leaned against a brick storefront, the display window covered in a protective web of wrought iron.

The taller of the two tapped her boots to ward off the cold, the tasseled suede covering more leg than the miniskirt that stopped midthigh. The other stood on red stiletto heels, legs wrapped in fishnet stockings. A thin slip of a dress hung on her bony body. She clutched a denim jacket around her shoulders and shivered in the night air.

Couldn’t be more than fifteen. Pretty mocha face. Shoulder-length hair. Big eyes that turned as Jude approached.

Someone Sarah needed to take home to her shelter.

A late-model sedan pulled to the curb. Two guys, wearing sport coats and ties. The front-passenger window lowered.

Jude fisted his hands and hustled forward, realizing what the men were hoping to buy.

Not the young one.

The older woman climbed into the rear seat, and the car sped away into the night.

The girl left behind stared at Jude.

He dug in his back pocket and fished out his wallet. The least he could do was help. Palming three twenties, he cautiously approached the teen.

Doubtful she’d take the money without encouragement. Maybe he could trade for information.

“Miss?” Jude pulled Nicole’s picture from his pocket. “I’m looking for someone.” The girl glanced nonchalantly at the photo he held up to her.

Jude fingered the bills. “Have you ever seen this woman? Or someone named Viki Valentine?”

A flicker of recognition swept over her face.

“Do you know Viki?”

The girl grabbed the twenties. “Why you want Viki when you can have me? I be nice to you.” She pushed off the brick wall and wiggled toward him. “First time you pick up a girl?”

Jude took a step back. “Look, miss, I’m not interested in buying anything from you except some information. Do you know where I can find Viki Valentine?”

The girl’s eyes swept past Jude, her face caught in a pulse of light. A car door slammed. Jude glanced over his shoulder and squinted into the bright glare.

With a flash of motion, the young woman raced around the corner.

A police officer stepped onto the sidewalk. “Hold it right there, sir.”

The officer mumbled something into the radio on his shoulder. The dispatcher squawked a reply.

Jude raised his right hand, palm out. “I was just talking to the girl.”

“You gave her money.”

“So she could get off the street and find a motel room.” Bad choice of words. “You’ve got it all wrong, Officer. I wasn’t making a buy or trying to pick up the girl. Besides, she couldn’t be more than fifteen.”

“Since when’s that stopped anyone?” Sarcasm was evident in the cop’s voice. “Step to the car, sir. Put your hands on the hood.”

“What?” The cop wasn’t interested in Jude’s side of the story. “I’m a captain in the army. I’ve been overseas for the last—”

“Lonely and lookin’ for a woman, eh?”

“Actually, I am looking for a friend of mine.”

“Friend or not, solicitation’s against the law. Now, spread your legs, hands on the hood.”

“Solicitation?” Jude let out an exasperated breath. “You don’t understand.”

“I understand you’ll be cited with resisting arrest if you don’t move. Now, buddy.”

How had he gotten into this mess?

Jude clamped down on his jaw and held his anger in check as the cop patted him down. Arms, torso, both legs.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

“Officer, this is entirely unnecessary,” Jude said.

Cold steel cuffs snapped around his wrists. The night had gone from bad to worse.

On the opposite side of the street, a utility van pulled to the curb. The driver’s door opened and a black man—probably six-four, three hundred pounds, gold ring hanging from his left earlobe—dodged the traffic and hustled toward them.

“Yo, Brian, my man. What’s up?” The big guy high-fived the cop.

“Another john. Claims he was merely talking.”

The newcomer eyed Jude. “What are you doing, boy? I told you we work outta the van. Last thing you want is to scare off the ladies.”

Jude gave the guy a long, hard look. Who was he?

The officer cocked his brow. “This dude one of yours?”

“A little too zealous, but his heart’s in the right place.”

“He gave money to a young girl,” the cop explained. “She ran off before I could talk to her.”

The black man chuckled. “Now, Jude, how many times I tell you get ’em off the street before you go giving them handouts.”

Okay. Jude shrugged. He’d play along. The last thing he needed was a solicitation charge on his military record. “I was trying to help.”

“I hear ya. But right now, we need you back at the house.” The newcomer looked at the cop. “You mind undoing the cuffs?”

He hesitated.

“Come on, Brian,” said the big man. “My brother always said you were a good man.”

“Not as good as he was.” The officer sighed, then slapped Jude’s shoulder. “Sorry, buddy. Guess I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”

“No harm done.” Jude rubbed his wrists, at last free of the metal restraints. Close call, to say the least.

“Let’s go.” The big guy motioned him toward the van.

On the opposite side of the street, Jude stopped short. “Look, I appreciate your help, but—”

His rescuer eyed the cop, who had paused before getting into his squad car.

“Best get in the van or Brian’ll think I’m a lying skunk. I can drop you at the next corner, if you like.”

Jude glanced across the street. The police officer stared back at him.

Didn’t take long to weigh his options. Jude stepped toward the van. Sliding open the side-panel door, he stared into the same green eyes he’d met earlier today.

“Sarah?”

“Get in,” she said between clenched teeth.

Jude hoisted himself onto the rear bench, surprise written on his face.

She scooted over, giving him more room. “Don’t hand money to anyone on the street.”

His eyes narrowed. “Thanks for the advice. Like I told the cop, I was just trying to help.”

“Which you weren’t. That isn’t what the girl needs. Every guy who wants her for an hour gives her money that ends up in the hands of her pimp. You’ve got to convince her to get off the street. Next time try a little Christian compassion.”

Jude shook his head. “That’s not my area of expertise.”

Sarah’s heart softened. “Look at it this way, Jude, there are rules out here on the street, just like in the military. You could get a girl killed by interfering.”

“What about you?” he shot back.

“I get them off the street. Away from this area, the rules change. They’re safe at the shelter.”

“Until they run back again.”

“You got that right.” The driver turned and extended his hand to Jude. “Name’s Benjamin Ulysses Lejeune. Folks call me Bull.”

“Right time, right place. Thanks.”

“Brian’s a good cop. Just a little quick with the cuffs. Best way to stay out of trouble is to try not to attract attention.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Bull shifted his focus back to the street and turned the key in the ignition. “Where’d you park your car?”

“Next to an all-night doughnut shop, five blocks west of here.”

Bull eased the van into the flow of traffic. Picking up his cell off the console, he punched in a number.

“Antwahn, my man. How goes it?” Bull chuckled. “I hear ya. Listen, I need a favor.” He paused. “Friend of mine left his wheels in the parking lot across from your place.”

Bull glanced back at Jude. “Make? Model?”

“Red Toyota Tundra.”

Bull relayed the information. “Got that, Antwahn? My friend would appreciate no misfortune befalling his vehicle until we get over there.” Bull chuckled again, this time a low rumble that carried more threat than humor before he slapped the cell shut.

Sarah adjusted her seat belt and glanced out the front window, still mad at herself for sending Jude on a wild-goose chase that could have gotten him in serious trouble.

The captain might be able to handle himself in combat, but life on the street was a different matter. Besides, she’d bet his commanding officer wouldn’t have appreciated a call from Atlanta Vice.

Neon lights advertising forbidden pleasure flashed in the night. Sarah blinked at their perverse glare. Up ahead something caught her eye. She crooked her neck as a familiar face came into focus.

Tapping Bull’s shoulder, she said, “Isn’t that Keesha’s friend?”

“Velvet jacket and leather miniskirt? Yeah, that’s her.”

“Pull over.” Sarah slid the panel door open as the van stopped.

The girl on the street turned wary eyes toward Sarah.

“Brittany, you must be hungry, working this late in the cold. We’ve got food back at Hope House.”

The girl shook her head. “Don’t you ask me to come back to the house with you, Ms. Sarah.”

“I bet you haven’t eaten all day.”

“Damian’s gonna take me out for a steak dinner once I finish up tonight.”

“Uh-huh.” Sarah stepped onto the sidewalk and walked slowly toward the girl. “Keesha said she misses you.”

The girl’s face clouded. “Keesha still with you?”

“She’s taking classes at Georgia State and earning money by helping out around the house.”

“Don’t tell her you saw me.”

“One night, Brittany. A hot shower. A good meal. A bed of your own. Then you can decide what you want.”

The girl’s bottom lip quivered. “Damian said he’d kill me next time I go with you.”

Sarah pointed to the van. “You know Bull won’t let Damian hurt you.”

The girl peered around Sarah’s shoulder. “Who’s the other guy? A cop?”

Sarah turned. “He’s a new volunteer.”

“Don’t look like he belong around here.”

Sarah studied Jude for a long moment. “Maybe not. But he’s trying.”

Jude started to say something. Sarah flashed him a look she hoped he understood. Keep your mouth shut.

Wrapping her arm around the girl, Sarah gently ushered her toward the van. “Jude, you move up with Bull.”

Without a word of protest, he hopped out of the van.

“Good to see you again, Brittany,” Bull said as she and Brittany climbed into the rear.

Jude tugged the panel door shut, then slid into the front passenger seat.

At the next intersection, Bull made a U-turn. “Hope you don’t mind, Jude, my man, but I’m gonna take the ladies back to the house. Once Brittany’s settled in, I’ll drive you to your vehicle.”

In the rear, Sarah patted Brittany’s arm. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

Hopefully, her words would prove true.

Sarah sighed, tired of the pain she saw in the eyes of the kids she pulled off the street. She knew all too well the heavy baggage some children had to carry. Brittany had more than her fair share.

Sarah thought of her own life. A mother who ran through men like water through a sieve. Always searching for love.

Somehow Sarah had never filled those holes, no matter how hard she’d tried. Eventually, she’d realized her mother didn’t need her or want her. A hard reality for a child to accept.

And what about the guy sitting in front of her? He’d be on his way soon enough. Having him underfoot reminded her of a promise she’d made to herself.

Never get involved with men.

When the van pulled to a stop behind the three-story brick house on Rosemont Avenue, Jude hopped out and opened the side panel for the women. Sarah held Brittany’s arm and ushered her toward the back door, the porch light shining a circle of welcome in the otherwise desolate night.

Jude followed them into the large kitchen. An industrial stove and oversize refrigerator took up the far wall. The center of the room was filled with a large metal table that appeared to double as a workstation. A lower shelf held mixing bowls and baking dishes.

A young African-American girl, early twenties, pretty with high cheekbones and a warm smile, entered the kitchen. “Brittany,” she shrieked, throwing her arms around the new arrival.

The two hugged, tears streaming down their cheeks. Sarah rubbed Brittany’s back as Keesha jabbered.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, girl. Where’ve you been? On the street? Honey child, there’s no reason to be doing that. Ms. Sarah, Bull and everyone here at the shelter, they want to help you.”

“Keesha, why don’t you take Brittany upstairs to the girls’ dorm and get her settled?” Sarah suggested. “Then you two come down to the chapel. There’s leftover lasagna in the fridge that I’ll stick in the oven so Brittany can eat after night prayer.”

The girls continued to chatter as they left the kitchen. Sarah glanced at Jude. “When was your last meal?”

“Breakfast at the mess hall this morning.”

“Bet that was tasty.”

His lips twitched. “Are you always so feisty?”

“Feisty?”

“That’s right. You act like a first sergeant ordering everyone around.”

She put her hands on her hips and tried not to smile. Pretty even when she was fussing at someone.

“So tell me, Jude, do first sergeants get to pull rank on captains?”

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Why no, ma’am. They work together to get the job done.”

She pointed to the refrigerator. “Then grab the lasagna from the fridge while I turn on the oven.”

“Maybe I’ll have to demote you, ma’am.”

“Not a chance.” Sarah took the Pyrex dish from his hands and shoved it in the oven. “Should take about thirty minutes to heat up. You’re welcome to stay.”

“I appreciate the offer, but Bull said he’d drive me back to my truck.”

“After night prayer.” Bull stepped in from the cold. He slipped out of his jacket and hung it on a peg by the door. “Why don’t you join us?”

Jude shook his head. “I really need to get on the road.”

“Of course you do.” Sarah glanced at the clock on the wall. “But it’s almost 10:00 p.m., and you’re exhausted. Maybe you should eat something and then go back to your motel.”

Jude pursed his lips. “Fact is I never got a room.”

“But you changed your clothes?” she said as she arranged plates and silverware on the table.

“In a public restroom. I guess the first thing I need is the closest motel.”

Bull snickered. “Jude, my man. Fleabag is not what you want. Why don’t you stay here?”

Sarah’s head flew up.

Bull held up his hands. “Now, Sarah, you know we’ve got extra bunks in the boys’ dorm, and I could use the help. No telling when that funding will come through for another overnight employee.”

He slapped Jude’s shoulder. “My advice, we get your truck, then you come back to the shelter. Nothin’ good happens on the street this hour of the night.”

Keesha peered into the kitchen. “Everyone’s in the chapel.”

“We’ll be right there.” Sarah glanced at Jude. “If you want to wash up, the boys’ latrine is downstairs.”

“Latrine?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Works with the first-sergeant persona.”

He followed her out of the kitchen and down a long hallway. Photos of teens lined the walls. Black, white, Asian, Latino, all of them smiling.

Sarah showed him the stairway to the boys’ dorm, then pointed down the hall. “The chapel is the third door on the right.”

Jude found the latrine, glad to wash the city grime from his hands. Retracing his steps, he stopped at the door Sarah had indicated.

Might as well check out the chapel. Anything—even prayer—would be better than sitting alone in the kitchen.

The sweet scent of candles filled the air as Jude stepped inside the small room. Three roughly hewn, wooden crosses hung on the wall behind a table that held a plant in an earthenware pot. Nearby a large leather-bound Bible lay open on a small stand.

Kids sat on the carpeted floor, heads down, legs crossed. Jude counted eight boys and five girls, who all looked like normal teens.

Sarah flipped on a CD player. A woman sang about forgiveness, redemption and the love of the Lord, repeating the syllables in a soothing cadence.

Jude hunkered down in the rear, away from the kids but with a clear view of Sarah, who clasped her hands, head bowed. Bull entered and took a spot on the opposite side of the room.

“Jesus forgave the sinner…” The plaintive song filled the small room and mixed with the wisps of smoke twisting from the candles.

Jude tilted his head back against the wall. Above him, a heater vent pumped tepid air that brushed his cheek and was as soothing as a woman’s touch.

His eyes drooped. He was back in the desert. An IED exploded. He jerked, caught himself. His eyes popped open.

Had anyone seen him doze off? He glanced at Sarah, still bent in prayer.

Did God listen to her?

His eyes flicked over the kids. Did God listen to any of them?

He stared at the two smaller crosses on the wall. Good thief, bad thief.

A story of forgiveness. Or so his father claimed. Ironic, really, but that was the issue, wasn’t it?

Would he ever be able to forgive his dad?

Jude shook himself, hoping to shove the thought into the darkness.

But the memory took hold like an obsession.

A stalled car, an oncoming train. They’d all escaped, until Jude’s mother ran back to get…

The heart-shaped money clip she’d hung on the visor. The only memento she had from her dad.

So why hadn’t his father reacted?

A lump clogged Jude’s throat.

The sound of screeching metal…his mother’s scream…

Jude tried to remember her face. Brown hair. Blue eyes. Tall. Wasn’t everyone tall to a six-year-old kid?

A heaviness settled over him. A sorrow for the little boy left behind. For a father whose grief twisted into an inability to relate to his young son. Worse than anything had been the self-righteousness. His dad believed that he walked with the Lord.

To a boy who felt isolated and alone, if his father walked with the Lord that was the last place Jude wanted to be.

He glanced at Sarah. Was her belief twisted, as well? Did she claim God was all loving when He allowed the sick perversions that forced so many kids to seek shelter from the reality of their lives?

Jude knew what it was like to have to escape. An ROTC scholarship to college had been his way out. He hadn’t looked back.

Now, seeing the kids in this room, he realized he’d been one of the lucky ones.

The song faded to silence. Then a small voice spoke. “Father, thank you for taking me from a place of pain and bringing me to a place of safety.”

A girl wept. Her sorrow cut through Jude. So young and so hurt.

“Thank you, Lord, for bringing Brittany back to us.” Keesha wrapped her arm around the teen with the woman’s body and the troubled eyes.

“Thank you for bringing Captain Walker to Hope House.” Jude’s head flew up at the sound of Sarah’s voice. “Help him find his friend.”

Evidently, Sarah believed in the power of prayer. Well, she could talk to the Lord all she wanted. Jude would count on his own ability to find Nicole.

He wanted to leave the stuffy room, the house on Rosemont and Sarah Montgomery with her questioning eyes and love of the Lord.

Jude rose and headed for the door. He didn’t need to be sucked into the hypocrisy of faith. He’d left all that behind when he turned his back on his father. He would leave it behind once again.

Sarah watched Jude bolt from the chapel. The captain acted like one of the troubled kids they picked up off the street. Jude Walker may be put together on the outside, but he was hurting inside. Was it because of the woman he was trying to find? Or perhaps pain he carried from his past?

She glanced at Bull and nodded.

He rose and slipped from the room.

Maybe Bull could help.

Hopefully, once Jude found Nicole, his girlfriend would be able to smooth out the rough edges of his life.

Funny for a woman to give a man the wrong address. Was she related to Viki Valentine? Although Sarah barely remembered the girl, her history couldn’t be good.

So many of the kids were trapped in a self-perpetuating cycle of despair. Hard to climb into the light when you had grown up in darkness.

Sarah thought back to the last man her own mother had brought home. A retired factory worker with a monthly pension and medical benefits. Somehow in her mother’s mind that equated to security. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with love.

Sarah lowered her head and prayed.

Lord, I’m trying to leave the past and move into the future You have prepared for me. But it’s hard to know Your will for my life. If a door opens, give me the courage to walk through it.