Michael waited for his ride in the white zone fronting the Bergman/ Deketomis building. As Jake pulled up with his SUV, Michael could see that he was eyeing him uncertainly. Michael lowered his aviator glasses and nodded. He had changed out of the suit that Jake was used to seeing him in and was wearing faded blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a tight United States Air Force T-shirt with an American flag and the words Fly, Fight, Win.
He climbed into the passenger seat and tossed his workout bag behind him.
“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Jake said.
“Given a choice, this is what I’d be wearing to work.”
“That’s one thing I like about my job. Most days I don’t have to wear suits.”
“I understand you used to be a lawyer,” Michael said.
“Guilty as charged.”
Instead of pressing him on the subject, Michael left it up to Jake to decide whether or not to elaborate. He didn’t have to wait long.
“I was practicing law in West Virginia where I managed to get Deke and the firm involved in what ultimately turned out to be that big opioid multidistrict litigation case in Ohio. Long story short, I released privileged information to the public, which got me disbarred. And I should also mention how I managed to get addicted to opioids while everything was playing out. Anyway, after all was said and done, and since a career change was necessary, Deke offered me a job in legal investigations. I’ve been here for two years.”
“Ever consider a return to practicing law?”
Jake nodded. “My plan had been to petition to have my law license reinstated after a year’s hiatus, but the longer I worked in legal investigations, the clearer it became that I was better suited to doing that.”
“I’ve had my own career doubts of late,” Michael said. “I’m not sure if I have the patience to be a lawyer. Somehow I never envisioned that the best way to take on the enemy was to write a brief. I was envious hearing about your working undercover.”
“You mean my truck stop assignment?”
When Michael nodded, Jake said, “There’s nothing glamorous or exciting about that work. In fact, that assignment was as hard as anything I’ve ever done. By day I drove a big rig, and at night I worked surveillance at the truck stops. I hope I never have to do anything like that again. Human trafficking is worse than a sewage spill, and if what I witnessed is any indication, it’s becoming ever more prevalent throughout this country.”
“How common is it?”
“I’m not saying that the trafficking is going on at all the truck stops, or even most of them, but it’s not hard to find if you’re looking for it. Many truck stops discourage what truckers call ‘lot lizards,’ but in some places I found management and ownership in cahoots with the traffickers. And I’m not talking about the old arrangement of prostitutes and their pimps, but worse.”
“Worse in what way?”
Jake shook his head and sighed. “The old system had women going from truck to truck looking for johns, and while that’s still practiced, as hard as it is to believe, the sex trade is now even more impersonal. These days you can find traveling bordellos, including trucks with cargo areas that have been set up as sex shacks. The trucks drive in with trafficked women who work the stop, then they drive out. Those women are there to serve one purpose: their entire existence is relegated to that cargo area of the truck, or in some cases to the motels associated with the truck stops.”
“And that goes on out in the open?”
“I think it would be impossible for management to be unaware of what is going on. In fact, that kind of activity seems to be built into many truck stop operations. It is actually part of their business plan for increasing revenues.”
“So, everyone is profiting except the sex worker?”
“Sex worker implies that these women have a choice as to whether to be engaging in sex or not, but the truth of the matter is they don’t have any choice, or any say. They have been coerced, manipulated, and brainwashed. Some don’t speak the language. Some have actually been sold by their families. Some think they’ll be killed, or their loved ones will be if they don’t do as they’re told.”
“I’ll take back what I said about envying your undercover work. How in the hell is this going on here?”
“That’s a good question. But an even better one is: How is it going on out in the open? Deke hopes to go after Welcome Mat’s truck stops and motels by having a forensic accounting done, but so far, the judge doesn’t look inclined to allow that to happen. We suspect there are multiple sets of books, with profits being funneled to the owners in the shadows.”
“As in the mob?”
“Let’s just say if that turns out to be the case, Deke won’t be surprised. And neither will I.”
Even the conversation was depressing, Michael thought. Being forced to confront that misery still weighed on Jake. You could hear it in his voice and sighs.
“Did you have the opportunity to talk to any of the women being trafficked?”
“I had some limited contact, mostly brief conversations with women knocking on my cab after midnight, asking if I wanted to party.”
Michael tried playing devil’s advocate. “Don’t they say prostitution is the oldest profession in the world?”
“Prostitution isn’t the same thing as human trafficking. These women aren’t selling their bodies; their bodies are being sold for them.”
“Mind if I steal that line for my civil case?”
“Please do.”
By unsaid mutual agreement, the two men decided to take a break from their weighty conversation. They rode in companionable silence until Michael said, “Your trucking assignment must have been tough on your wife.”
“It was, but Anna was the one who insisted that I do it. She said if my work helped trafficked women, then it would be worth it.”
“What did she think about tonight’s assignment?”
“She wasn’t thrilled, and I don’t blame her. What about your wife?”
Michael took a moment before answering. “I wasn’t exactly forthcoming. I told Mona that you and I were seeking out background material on my client.”
“That’s all true, sort of.”
“I wanted to come clean, but I was afraid of the fallout,” Michael said.
“You want to do right, but not right now.”
“That pretty much covers it.”
“Lots of women wouldn’t be happy with the idea of their husbands going to a strip club,” Jake said.
“I think Mona would have been okay with that part of it.”
“Really?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying she would be happy with my doing that, but I’m pretty sure the bigger stumbling block for her would be the idea of me putting myself in a potentially dangerous position. Mona is a worrier. After what she experienced, and what happened to her family, she wants me to stay clear of battle.”
“But going to a strip club isn’t like going into battle.”
“That remains to be seen,” Michael said.
Jake laughed at what he thought was a joke.