AMBER
After Roy left for Mission Division, Amber sat in Jane Doe’s room, near the bed, and watched her, trying to imagine what she’d look like without the vivid bruising and swelling covering most of her face and body.
Even wearing a miniskirt and boots, there was no way any trick would think she was eighteen. She didn’t look more than fourteen. Of course, during Amber’s time working the streets, most johns she’d arrested said, when they hired a working girl, they didn’t even look at her face.
The nurse came in to check the girl’s vitals and see if she needed anything.
She stirred at the activity, opening her eyes to a slit.
“Hey, sweetheart. You need anything?
The girl closed her eyes.
“I’m going to put this call button in your hand. If you want something, you press the button and I’ll come.” The nurse turned to Amber. “Good luck.”
Amber stood next to the bed and took the girl’s left hand. “I’m Officer Buckner of the Los Angeles Police Department.”
The girl’s eyes blinked open.
“I’m here to find out who did this to you.”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, pulling her hand away.
“I think you do.” Amber sighed. “I think you rolled a trick the other night off Kelowna and San Fernando.”
The girl winced as she shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You and your pimp picked the wrong guy to roll. We’ve got you on video, and your date is ready, willing, and able to ID you in court.” She pulled a chair next to the bed. “But maybe I can work with you a little.”
“I don’t even know what you mean about rolling someone.”
“I think your pimp beat you, and I think your name is Payton.”
“I’m not a prostitute…and my name isn’t Payton,” she mumbled.
“Then, what is your name?
The girl stared at her.
“Look, I’m offering you a chance to possibly work a deal on an armed robbery. If you’re convicted—and you would be—you’re looking at some serious prison time.”
The girl’s eyes widened. “Prison? I haven’t done anything wrong! I didn’t know what was going to happen.”
“Listen, you’re not the first young working girl I’ve dealt with, and sadly, you won’t be the last.” Amber rubbed her fingers over her lips as she eyed the girl. “From the looks of you, you haven’t been in the life too long. I can put in a good word with the district attorney so, maybe, we can get your robbery charge dropped down to some kind of misdemeanor. Then, you can do some community service rather than spending any time in a group home.”
Large tears slid down the girl’s bruised cheeks. “I don’t know what a group home is, but I don’t want to go there. I just need to get out of this hospital and back to my…my…”
“Your pimp? The one who put you in here? Are you insane? You can’t work the streets in the shape you’re in. You were touch and go when you were brought in.”
“I have to get back there. Then I’ll leave him.”
Amber shook her head and sighed. “I’m looking for information on anyone trafficking young children.”
“Why would I know anything about that?”
“Because you deal with whale shit…the dregs from the bottom of the ocean. That means you rub elbows with sick bastards who think it’s okay to rape little kids—and I’m not talking about children your age. I’m talking about babies and toddlers.” Amber knew she’d touched a nerve when more tears filled the girl’s eyes. She stared at the girl praying she’d decide to talk.
“Leave me alone. I don’t know anything about little kids.” The girl’s tone sounded so defeated.
“You’re only hurting yourself. You’ll be arrested for armed robbery.”
“Get out. I can’t talk to you.”
“Fine.” Amber sprung from her chair and put her face mere inches from the girl’s startled expression. “You don’t have to talk to me. Keep protecting your pimp. But let me tell you something—any chance of me helping you, or asking the DA to offer you a deal, walks out the door with me.”
“I can’t help you,” the girl said softly, then turned onto her side.
Amber grabbed the girl’s shoulder and gently pulled her around to face her. “Listen to me. I understand that you’re scared, but somebody has kidnapped my little boy. I’m hoping you might know something.”
“Someone took your little boy?”
Amber, regretting her outburst, nodded. “Yes. Truth is…I don’t give a damn about you, or your pimp, but I do care about my little boy. You can either help me, or I can throw you under the bus for robbery.” She released the girl’s shoulder. “I’m willing to bet you’ve never been in jail, much less prison. But let me tell you, felony juvenile detention isn’t like high school. It’s a whole other world.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Then help me…please.”
The girl shut her eyes. “I’d help you if I could, but I can’t.”