Drt (18 page)

“Fresh, inexperienced girls but we want to be taught! Will work on site for fee. Exclusive!” I stood up off the couch, my breathing becoming more rapid by the second. Fresh, inexperienced, oh dear God, please let me not be right, please let me be wrong about this horrified feeling making its way down the length of my body.
 

I walked over to the ancient phone in the kitchen, picked up the receiver, and held it out in front of my face, frightened but determined about what I was going to do.

I dialed the digits listed in the ad. I was moving and acting as if propelled by a force independent of my own will, but it felt natural, justified. I had been acting on hunches for over a week now and every single hunch had proven right. If this one did, I might be sick to my stomach right here on Sylvia’s kitchen floor.
 

I finished dialing and pressed the weight of the receiver to my ear. I braced myself as a phone rung somewhere out in the universe

“Hello?”
 

The world around me fell away. There was no apartment, no floors, walls, or ceiling. The picture was now complete. I knew why Jerry Morris wept on the picture Hayleigh had drawn for her father. I knew why Jerry had found Sylvia Barrio. I now knew what Jerry knew, what he had been desperately trying to tell me, and why Jerry had a police report in his locker the day he died. I knew what Jerry had planned to do when he got home from work that day, why Jerry was so angry at his current state of non-living.

“Hello? I can hear you.”

The voice on the other end of the line was persistent. “One more chance! Hello? Whatever, fuckin’ mouth breathing asshole.” The person hung up with a click. I stood in Sylvia’s kitchen, now having to live with this knowledge. I knew the truth, poor Hayleigh.

The voice on the other end of the line belonged to Dravin Baxter.

24

On the final day of Jerry’s countdown I sat in the office of Sergeant Javin Conroy. For every day of the last ten years, I had at least one conversation with this man. Conroy worked the morning rush hour beat in Montgomery County, Maryland, laboring in the same department for over two decades. He was a gray man with a chiseled chin and a multitude of tight wrinkles.
 

Sergeant Conroy had stayed later than usual today, the feds needed to be involved in something like this and he had volunteered to stay with me as they explained what needed to happen. I had called him late last night and left a message. I spent a torturous night in Sylvia’s living room waiting for the phone to ring. When it finally did I almost broke the phone in a mad dive. There was a hurried conversation while I brought the Sergeant up to speed.
 

Conroy had two daughters. When he heard about what was happening to Hayleigh, he gathered a composed but clearly livid response.
 
I left out the part about the ghost.
 

I caught a little sleep after I talked to Conroy. I crawled into bed next to Sylvia and curled up to her. She stirred a bit when the mattress sank down next to her but did not wake. I felt warm and safe but my thoughts were focused on Hayleigh and the horror she was living.
 

The thought was like a cancer, eating me from the inside. The evidence had been there all along. Why had it taken me so long to put everything together? I could have asked more questions during my walk with Sylvia. I could have thought just a little bit faster. At InTransition, I could have talked to the employees straight off rather than being creeped out by the ladies in the office. I could have gone across the street a little faster and received Hayleigh’s plea. I could have helped her so much faster if only I had acted faster, smarter.
 

I realized that Leigh Ann was going to jail and I didn’t care. I was fine with seeing her dragged off regardless of whether or not she was a fit mother to Elroy. I suspected that a meth addicted mother who allows her boyfriend to prostitute her daughter wasn’t worthy of the benefit of doubt.

I felt awful but I needed to put it away. I wanted to sit on the couch like Jerry and just weep. I tried not to picture it, that poor little girl and the awful things that they have done to her. How could Jerry not kill Dravin? Jerry’s hands were tied, that’s why. He would have gone to jail and been without his daughter. He was stopped in the middle of doing the only thing he could do for her, going to the police. When Jerry was killed, Hayleigh was doomed to suffer this nightmare because the only person in her life who cared enough to rescue her was now dead. The thought alone made me well with tears.
   

Sergeant Conroy walked me through what would happen in the next few hours. He and the feds were in the process of rounding up the people necessary for a bust. They would call me when everything was in place.

The phone finally rang when the sun was starting to shine through the blinds. I wasn’t sleeping anyway. The plan was in place and it was time for us to get our asses to the station.
 

We waited in a room with white drywall and stained wooden benches. The sound of radios and scanners wherped and wheezed. After almost an hour Conroy led us to his office. We were ushered into the interview chairs, across the desk sat Conroy and a federal agent whose name wasn’t mentioned.
 

The federal threw a dark folder onto the table in front of us.
 

“Dravin Baxter. We’re pretty sure this asshole had been up to this shit all over the country.”

“Fucker,” said Conroy.
 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s a fucker and slippery as hell. We thought we had this guy in Arizona last year but just missed him.”

Sylvia looked terrified. “He has done this to other children?”

“This guy does the same thing every time,” said Federal. “Shack up with some meth mommy and become her whole world. The mommies let him do whatever he wants as long as the meth keeps flowing. He’s manipulative as hell and makes a fortune at this shit.”
 

Sylvia looked like she was going to be sick.

Federal looked at me. “Not gonna lie to you. We need your help on this if we are finally going to nail this fucking asshole. We need you to wear a wire.”
 

“Why me?”

“Greg, I hate to insult you, but you fit the profile. I have a feeling that’s why Baxter let you into the house in the first place. You’re what, mid-fifties?”

“Yes.”
 

“You live alone, keep weird hours and have no noticeable social life. You seem like the kind of guy that is gonna be into this.”

“How do you know about my social life?”

“It was a guess.”

“…”

“I need you to call him, call the number that you dialed yesterday and set up a rendezvous.”

“Where at?”

“What do you say Sarge? Where’s a good place for all this shit to go down?”

“What are you looking for?” said Conroy.

“I’m thinking a motel, preferably something with an outside door. We can’t let this guy get away again.”

“Where are we going to be?”

“We need to be in the room adjacent. It makes it easier, trust me.”
 

“So that mean we need the rooms to be attached.”

“Yes, that’s what it means.”

“We are on it, not a problem.”

“This Dravin guy,” asked Sylvia, “is he dangerous?”

“No history of violence, just a piece of garbage, but if he tries anything we’ll be in the next room.”

I spoke up, “This has to happen today.”
 

“Negative. We need some paperwork done before we can move on this. I am thinking maybe tomorrow.”

“There isn’t an exception for emergencies?”

“It doesn’t qualify as an emergency if we have the guy dead to rights.”

“It’s not an emergency to stop a 9 year old girl from being raped by strangers every day?”

“Okay, okay, what time is good for you?”

“I can do any time.”

“We need to go over the rules, Greg. The number one rule is don’t engage him. It doesn’t matter what he calls you, what he says about the girl, or anything else you can think of. You don’t make any sudden moves toward him or the girl. You have to let the overwhelming emotion to hit the guy go away. You need him to feel comfortable enough to hang himself.”

“Sylvia needs to be there. Without her, I don’t do this.”

 
“Fine, Sylvia, you’ll be with us but you are going to have to calm yourself. I understand that you want to protect the girl. The best way to do that is to not get Dravin scared. If he bails, we are just going to have a bunch of circumstantial evidence.”

I held up a hand, “What about Leigh Ann?”
 

“What about the mother?” asked Federal, looking at Conroy.

“We need a team of feds to take her down, too.”
 

“We can do that,” said Federal. “Not a big problem…but when do we send them over there for the party?”

Conroy considered it, “Let’s send them just as we go in to bust Dravin. Call right as we pounce on him. That way she won’t have a chance to warn him and she wouldn’t get any word about his arrest.”
 

“Hot damn,” said Federal

“What do I have to say when I set this up?” I asked.

“You have to use the buzzwords. You have to say that you are interested in ‘the fresh girl’. That means you know what you are getting into.”

I shuddered.

“Hey, you are catching the guy, not participating. Lets keep that in mind.”

“So how do I know that this is happening? How do I know when it’s…time?”
 

Federal opened a drawer in Conroy’s desk. He pulled out a mountain of cash. “When you pay him,” he shoved the cash to my side of the table.
 

“Look,” Federal continued, “These people that do this, they make a lot of money. I am going to spare you the details of what has probably been happening to the girl. You are going to need a lot of money before they believe you are for real. Do you feel okay about all this? I mean, as okay as you can feel about it?”

“Yes.”
 

“Okay. We have a secure line in the interrogation room. Which room?…Room 2. It’s in room 2. Remember…fresh.”

“Okay”
 

“Man of few words. How about you two go wait in room 2 until the Sarge and I can figure out where all of this is going to happen and we will get back to you.”

A couple of officers showed up with solemn faces and led us out of the room. I followed them, deep in thought. We walked down the long antiseptic hallway and through the door marked “2”.
 

I saw a pair of uncomfortable chairs and a flat table with sticks for legs. The floor was shiny and offered a reflection of the furniture like a sheet of ice.
 
I drew in a long breath of air. I felt no fear, no anxiety, only determination. I wouldn’t fail Hayleigh anymore.

25

A thick, humid breeze bent the brown grass in the landscape surrounding the small motel located in the vicinity of Gaithersburg, MD. The grass stood in contrast to the painted green walls of the motel, which was two stories high and littered with ghastly orange doors. The sky was gray and the passing of cars on the interstate nearby hummed dull.
 

I took all of this information in with a silent head. I was beyond second guessing at this point and moving as deliberately as a man possessed. My heartbeat was steady and my stomach strong, no fear.
 

Federal and Conroy opened one of the hotel’s orange doors on the first floor and motioned the people sitting in the parking lot to come inside. Sylvia and I complied, leaning out the car door and placing our feet on the warm asphalt.
 

I had set up the meeting casually. I called from a secure number at the station and told Dravin where I wanted to meet. Dravin had been careful not to say too much on the phone and agreed to the time and place without ceremony. I hung up the phone, somewhat relieved that he hadn’t recognized my voice. I had no idea if this was the protocol for such things, but either way the trap was set.
 

Sylvia and I entered the hotel room. Conroy closed the door behind us as Federal nodded in our direction. “Let’s get that shirt off, Greg.”

I pulled the gray t-shirt I was wearing up and off. Conroy approached with a small black patch. He removed the back. I shot a questioned look at Federal.

“Yeah, Bluetooth has made this easy as shit these days,” he said with a grin.

I nodded.
 

Conroy placed the patch and pressed it into my chest. “Are you nervous, Greg?”

“Just trying to stay focused.”

“Good answer.”
 

They tested the microphone and then the room fell silent. “It’s okay to be nervous but you are right to stay focused. This guy is very good at what he does, he’ll notice any slip ups in the normal routine”
 

“If you stop reminding me about it, that might help.”

The room filled with tense laughter and then fell silent again. Everyone in the room took turns standing, sitting, and pacing for what seemed like an eternity. Our minds were swimming. The finality and boldness of the act sobered us, we all knew the stakes.

Conroy went to the door that connected the rooms. It was brown and looked flimsy next to the immensity of the ancient television and chest of drawers. He turned the handle and swung it open.
 

“Okay Greg, it’s time,” said Conroy.
 

“I know what I am getting myself into Sergeant. I’m glad to help.”
 

“You’re a brave man, Greg,” said Federal. Sylvia, Federal and Conroy walked into the adjacent room and Federal closed the door behind them.
 

I sat on the bed and steadied my breathing. Whatever the outcome, I would see something through to the end. I thought of the years that I had spent hiding, now I was in plain sight. I was the pivotal cog in the wheel of a federal investigation that would save countless children from the horrors Dravin Baxter forced upon them.
 

That thought caused a measure of pride in me as I sat there and palmed my bare white knees. I just heard a police sergeant call me a brave man. I thought of Sylvia, just on the other side of the door, here to help me. My life had changed for the better.