46

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B riana's withdrawal symptoms were easing. By mid-day, her cold sweats had all but abated. She was eating some and drinking a lot of water. She stayed close to May but was warming up to Alexander.

“Briana, I’m going to set up a time to meet with the police so you can tell them what happened to you,” Alexander said. “They need to hear it from you. Are you up to it?”

“I think so. I don’t remember too much. Everything is a little fuzzy.”

“That’s okay. Just tell them what you remember. Bonita knows the details and she’ll tell them what they need. Your story will collaborate what she tells them.”

A confused gaze came over Briana and she had trouble speaking. “Will Bonita tell them everything?”

“I hope so,” Alexander said. “You look tired. Get some rest. If you’re up to it, we’ll go downtown tomorrow.

Briana nodded and closed her eyes.

Alexander quietly left the room and joined Bonita and May in the living room.

“How is she?” May asked.

“Good, I think. She still seems a little confused.”

May stood. “I’m going to stay with her. I could use a nap.”

With May gone, Alexander sat next to Bonita. “After we talked this morning, I called a friend in the Bureau and told him about you, Briana, and the Cuban girls.”

Bonita snapped her head toward Alexander, glaring at him with her large dark brown eyes. “What did you tell him?”

“Just what I knew. That you and maybe a hundred more girls were being held by traffickers and prostituted in bars.”

“He’s going to help them?”

“Here’s the problem. He doesn’t doubt me, but what I told him is hearsay. Plus, I couldn’t give him any of the details. You said you know what’s going on there – where the bars are, where the girls are kept, and whose keeping them. They need you to come in and tell them so they can get warrants. Can you do that?”

“I...I want to. I want to help the girls, but I’m scared. I don’t want to go to jail or back to Colombia. Is that the only way?”

“It’s the best way. I can guarantee you won’t go to jail. Unless you’re hiding something, you’ve done nothing wrong. You’re a victim. I’m pretty sure they won’t deport you. These guys are worried about women who are being trafficked.” Alexander grasped Bonita’s wrist. “That doesn’t mean later some overzealous ICE agent won’t come knocking for you someday.”

Bonita took a deep breath. “I’m also a little worried the bar owners or their friends will figure out that I talked and will come looking for me. But I’ll talk to the police and I’ll tell them what I can.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. They won’t find you here. If Briana’s up to it, we’ll go tomorrow.”

*****

THE FOLLOWING DAY, Alexander, Bonita, and Briana were met outside the Houston Police Department Central Division office by John Rocklin, FBI Deputy Assistant Director of Special Investigations. Both girls wore the most conservative outfits they could piece together from what had been scavenged from the beach – loose-fitting shorts and blouses. Bikini tops were worn in place of bras.

Other than an occasional tremor, the effects of Briana’s heroin withdrawal had subsided. The cut on the side of her mouth and the bruises on her sunken face were still visible. Bonita, on the other hand, looked flawless. Her skin, from the bottom of her long, slender legs to the top of her head was perfect.

“It’s good to see you, Alex,” John said, extending his hand.

“You too, John. It’s been a while.”

“Too long. We’ll need to catch up once this is over.” He turned to the women with Alexander. “Hi, I’m John.”

Alexander introduced the girls to his old friend. Bonita stood close to Alexander, clutching his biceps. She nodded but said nothing, her eyes fixed on the five-story, dull grey police building behind him.

“You’re going to be meeting with people from the Houston Police, Harris County Sheriff’s office, and a member of the FBI’s Child Exploitation and Human Trafficking Task Force.”

Alexander felt Bonita’s tight grip when they walked up the steps and into the building. “It will be alright, I promise,” he told her. “Just answer their questions the best you can, tell them what you know, and we’ll be out of here before you know it.”

The group was greeted by a uniformed police officer who led them to the bank of elevators. When they got off the elevator, two men and a woman were waiting for them.

“Hi, I’m Sergeant Hallie Stoddard with the Human Trafficking Unit of the Vice Division. This is Special Agent Jim McLain and Lieutenant Mike Kirby from the Sheriff’s office. We will be talking to each of you separately, and I apologize for the interrogation rooms, but we have to record the sessions.”

Alexander could see the fear in Bonita’s eyes. “You’ll be fine,” he whispered.

Sergeant Stoddard took Bonita by the arm and led her to a small room with a table and four chairs. “Sit down and try to make yourself comfortable. We’ll be right with you.”

Bonita crossed her legs, wrapped her arms around herself, and looked around the small room. The four walls were covered with RGB BAD acoustical panels. Closed-circuit TV cameras hung from the corners of the ceiling. She jumped when the bolt on the outside of the door locked.

Sergeant Stoddard returned to the group and told Briana to follow her to the other interrogation room.

“Do you mind if I stay with her?” Alexander asked. “She’s had a tough few days and I’m not sure she should be locked in that small room alone.”

“That’s fine. You can stay until we conduct the interview,” Sergeant Stoddard said.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Alexander sat next to Briana and rested his hand on her shoulder. “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I am. I want to tell them what happened to me. I’m glad you stayed. This room is creepy.”

The three officers went into the interrogation room holding Bonita. She shifted in her seat, uncrossed and crossed her legs, and stared at the walls. She did not make eye contact with any of them.

“Bonita, thank you for coming. As I mentioned, I’m Sergeant Hallie Stoddard and I’m heading up the investigation. First of all, I want you to get comfortable. You’re a victim. We don’t care if you’re undocumented. That’s not why we’re here. Alex told us you’re intimately familiar with a sex slave ring operating on McCarty Street. Is that true?”

“Yes, it is,” Bonita said, still unable to look anyone in the eye.

“We need you to tell us everything you know. Again, if you worked in the bar as a prostitute, either forced or not, we don’t care. We need you to be honest and forthright with us. What you tell us will determine if we can get warrants and raid the bars. We’d like to get a little history too. How did you end up at the bar?”

Bonita retold the story about being smuggled into the US then sold at the El Bar de Baile.

“Excuse me,” the Sergeant interrupted. “Did you say El Bar de Baile?”

“Yes, that’s the name of the bar where I worked.”

“It seems we busted that place a year or so ago for forcing underage girls into prostitution.”

“You did, but those girls weren’t being forced. The girls that were being forced weren’t in the bar when you raided it.”

Sergeant Stoddard shook her head. “I’m sorry, what did you say? If I remember correctly, those girls were fifteen and sixteen years old.”

“They were. They would come in after school and work until they had to go home. Many had curfews and their parents wanted them home by a certain time.”

“That may be so, but they were still underage.”

“Only in years. Those girls had more experience than any of the much older smuggled girls. I’d talked to a few of them. They started having sex with boyfriends at a young age, and they watched a lot of porn on the internet. These were girls who had a contest to see who could make a man come the quickest, if that tells you anything about them. I don’t remember what the record time was.”

“That may be so, but in the eyes of the law, they were underage.”

“I got it. It’s just you got them out of the bar and they wanted to be there and you didn’t find any of the girls being held against their will,” Bonita said, now looking Stoddard in the eye. “Some of the girls smuggled in are underage too.”

“Hallie, I remember that. How did we not find the undocumented girls?” Lieutenant Kirby said.

“I can tell you,” Bonita said. “The men wanted those young girls and, from what I heard, they were willing to pay big bucks for them. The girls got a fraction of the money but more than they could make working a real job, so they were happy. They kept the backrooms busy until they had to leave. That’s when the owner would bring us to the bar. We’d work the rest of the night. You came in before any of us were there.”

“Well, on behalf of all of us, I sincerely apologize. It seems we dropped the ball that time,” Sergeant Stoddard said.

“I get it. You only knew about the high school girls. You didn’t know about the other girls.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying, but it doesn’t make it better. Let’s continue. You have the names and locations of where the girls work and stay?”

“I do.” Bonita gave them the names and addresses and named as many of the bar owners as she could remember. She also went into graphic detail when asked about the living conditions. All of them were horrified when she told them how new girls were chained and fed dog food until they complied, with conditions not improving much once they agreed.

“What was your role in all of this?” Lieutenant Kirby asked.

Bonita’s eyes narrowed. She had to unclench her jaw and force out words. “Men paid to fuck me.”

“I get that, but you don’t look like you’ve been chained up and fed dog food.”

“Mike!” Sergeant Stoddard shook her head at her colleague.

“It’s okay, Sergeant Stoddard,” Bonita said. “When I first arrived, I was chained, I was told what I would have to do – and what would happen if I didn’t. So I spread my legs and made every man feel special. It wasn’t long before they were charging a premium for me. I would sit in the bar and hustle drinks until a guy wanted me. Instead of fucking fifty men a night, I only had to fuck maybe ten.”

“I’m sorry,” Stoddard said. “I think you’ve given more than enough information to get warrants. I promise you we will close all the bars and get the girls out of there. Is there anything else you’d like to tell us?”

Bonita looked at each of the people in the room. Only Lieutenant Kirby made eye contact with her.

“I would like to say that Briana has had a hell of a time. I heard some of the things they did to her and it’s worse than anything I’ve told you so far. Mr. Kirby, she’s doing pretty good right now, but please be careful what you say to her.”

“I will. You gave us everything we need. Whatever she can tell us about her experience will ensure we get the warrants. I think we’re done. Hang tight and we’ll be right back to get you.”

Outside the interrogation room, Sergeant Stoddard got up into the Lieutenant's face. “What the fuck was that about?”

“Back off, Sergeant. You know as well as I that a madam is often working these bars, pimping out the girls. If that’s what she was doing, she’s as culpable as the rest of them.”

“You don’t seriously believe that, do you?”

“I’m just saying she looks mighty fine for a sex slave.”

“Oh...my...God.” Sergeant Stoddard took several deep breaths. “You think attractive women can’t be trafficked?”

“They can, but just like those underage girls, you’d be surprised how often it’s their choice. Did you notice her knees?”

“Her what?”

“Her knees. Did you look at them? There wasn’t a mark on them.”

“Seriously?” Sergeant Stoddard was incredulous. “She’s got nice knees so that means she’s not being forced to prostitute herself?”

“Not as often as she said she was...if at all. I don’t want to go into graphic detail, but most sex acts a prostitute performs involve her knees. Either on the floor, while the man is standing, on a bed leaning over a man, or on her knees and elbows while the man is behind her. I’m telling you, almost every prostitute I’ve encountered has at a minimum discolored knees and most have extensive bruising. Bonita’s knees are unblemished. She may very well be the property of the bar owner as she said, but she has not been servicing ten men a night. I promise you that.”

Stoddard contemplated what the Lieutenant had said. “You might be right, Mike, but I’m going to give her the benefit of the doubt. She came in and she gave us details. We will investigate and verify her story before doing anything. Let’s talk to the other girl and cut them loose. We have more than we need.”

Alexander left the room when Stoddard, McLain, and Kirby entered. Twenty minutes later, the three came out. Sergeant Stoddard closed the door, leaned against it, and looked at the floor. The two men with her stood in silence.

Alexander approached the group. “How is she?”

“She’s pretty amazing if you ask me,” Stoddard said. “Unfortunately, she remembers a great amount of what happened to her. Did you know she told them she was a virgin and pleaded with them to let her go? And do you know what they did? Four of them drew cards to see who would be the first. The others held her down while the winner raped her. The others then took turns, and sodomized her as well.” Sergeant Stoddard blinked and a tear rolled down her cheek.  “That girl sat in there, stoically telling us what happened to her like she was talking about a movie or something. She’s young and very resilient, but keep an eye on her. Be sure to reach out to us. We have counselors if she needs one.”

“I will. Thank you. Can we leave now?”

“Yes, of course. Thank you so much for coming in. For obvious reasons, we won’t be able to share any plans with you, but rest assured, we will move quickly.”

Alexander stood at the door to the interrogation room while Lieutenant Kirby brought Briana out. She stood stone-faced while Kirby thanked her for her testimony. Sergeant Stoddard escorted Bonita from the second room.

Stoddard, McLain, and Kirby shook hands with Alexander and the two girls. They watched as an officer escorted them onto the elevator and the doors closed.

“You don’t need to say a word, Mike,” Stoddard said. “Yes, I noticed Briana’s knees. They were dark and bruised – worse than her face. There were bruises on the inside of her thighs as well. That little girl has been abused and, according to what she said, not that much because she was more trouble than she was worth.” Stoddard took a deep breath. “After looking at Briana and thinking about what you said, I have to agree, there may be more to Bonita. Let’s hope what she’s telling us is true.”

“My gut is telling me she told the truth,” Kirby said. “I don’t think she told the whole truth and she certainly distanced herself from what was going on and painted herself as nothing but a victim.”

“But you aren’t buying it?” Stoddard asked.

“Nope. Call it a knee-jerk reaction.”