Chapter 4
"That son-of-a-bitch!" Luna declared. "He's got some big damn balls showing up out of the blue like that! Like, hey fuck-knuckle, ever heard of the phone? Send a text? Slide up in your DMs?"
Luna was sitting at a desk with three side-by-side monitors and two computer towers. It stretched across one of the walls in the back office of Miranda's house. The rest of the room was lined with long tables holding the high-tech tools and equipment she used to service the Nandex.
"Well, actually," the blonde said from the next room. "He's been doing all that for like a month. I've kinda been ignoring him, hoping he'd go away. I didn't think he'd ever actually show up here."
"Oh. Well, then: hey fuck-knuckle take the goddam hint!"
"That's what I'm saying!" Miranda came back into the office. "Did you find anything on this Baker guy?"
"About what you'd expect from a north-end drug dealer," Luna replied. "Handful of priors, possession mostly, some intent, but it seems like he's been keeping his head down since moving here from Warden City sometime in the last year-" She spun around in her chair and her brown eyes bulged at the sight of Miranda. "-what the what happened to you?"
The blonde was wearing a scandalously short, ruffled zebra print miniskirt. Below it her long legs were sheathed in fishnet stockings. Above it, her flat tummy was naked, and above that a clingy pink tube top was struggling to contain her big round breasts. Her normally lustrous hair was a ratted mess, and her makeup was bordering on garish.
"What?" she asked innocently, putting on two large hoop earrings.
"And just where the hell do you think you're going dressed like that, young lady?" Luna demanded in a tone that made it hard to know if she was joking or not.
"I told you, I'm going to check out Baker's place." She'd gotten the address from Chocolate after Donovan had left. Miranda sat down across from the brunette and began buckling on a pair of hot pink stiletto heels.
"Aaaaaaaaaand you're going to pick up a couple of johns on the way? Maybe get one of them to give you a ride?"
"Luna, I'm going to a drug dealer's house to look for a missing hooker," Miranda huffed. "This way he'll think I'm just one of her friends looking for her, or maybe looking to score. Either way he'll be much more willing to talk to me than if I go down there like little miss social worker Miranda Ashton."
"I don't understand why you're so obsessed with finding this-" Miranda shot Luna a cutting glance. "-this girl, anyway. It's not exactly like she was living a safe lifestyle."
"So just because someone's in a bad situation means they don't deserve our help?"
"You know that's not what I meant."
"I know," the blonde sighed. "Look, Warren hid this tech from his family because he wanted it to do real good. So, if I'm going to use it to honor that, I'm going to be the kind of superheroine who fights for the little guy, the people who really need help, regardless of their circumstances."
"I get that," Luna said. "And I agree, you know I do, I wouldn't be here if I didn't."
"And this isn't just about Paisley," Miranda went on. "She was my friend and I'm worried, yes, but she also told me someone has been taking girls off the streets."
"You mean like human trafficking?"
Miranda nodded grimly. "When she came to me, she was scared. And everybody I ask about her gets scared too. I can feel it in my gut that she didn't just skip town. There is something going on in the streets and they can't go to the cops cuz they're just hookers anyway." She said this last part with air-quotes and a look of disdain.
"And you're thinking if you can find her," Luna followed the logic. "You'll find whoever is behind this and you can stop them."
Miranda nodded. "This sounds like a job for...Cerulean girl!"
"What the fuck is a 'cerulean'?"
"It's a shade of blue," Miranda chuckled. "I guess it should probably be Cerulean Woman?"
"Hash-tag feminism," Luna rolled her eyes. "You better come up with something way better than that, and quick. When you bring down a sex slavery ring, that shit's definitely making the papers."
"Do people even read papers anymore?"
"Older men, at coffee shops," Luna shrugged. "Gotta have some way to pretend they aren't checking out the over-caffeinated high schoolers buying lattes."
"Speaking of checking out," Miranda stood up and gave a little twirl. The whispy lines of her low back tattoo curled out the top of her skirt, and the zebra ruffles fluttered around her hips, teasing glimpses of the under-curves of her perfect ass. "Think he'll buy me as a prostitute or what?"
Luna took a deep breath and rolled her eyes again. "This is a really stupid plan."
Chapter 5
Despite Luna's further protests, Miranda took a cab to Riverside's north end. It was one of the more harrowing rides she'd ever had, as the driver spent more time ogling her in his rearview mirror than looking at the road. She had him drop her a couple blocks away from Baker's street.
The moon was shining brightly overhead by the time she arrived in the rundown neighborhood. She was actually a little glad for the dark. There were people on many of the porches, drinking or gossiping, and she could feel their eyes on her as she passed. It had been a while since she'd worn such a short skirt, and she felt like every stride or slight breeze gave a show of her ass.
"Damn, baybay, you lookin' fer me?" hooted a young boy, gathered with a group of teens huddling under one of the few still working streetlights.
"Please, child," she replied, affecting a fake drawl. "I only play if there's grass on the field."
The kids all laughed, and the boy shouted something incredibly lewd. Miranda would have blushed if he'd been old enough to say such a thing to her. She kept walking and they did not follow.
When she reached the address Chocolate had given her, the house was exactly what she'd expected; a small one-story residence, rundown, with a yard that was more dirt than grass. There were lights on inside, including the unmistakable flickering of a television. She couldn't see anyone inside though.
Taking a deep breath, Miranda approached and knocked gently on the front door. When there was no answer she knocked again, a little louder. Still nothing. After a closer look through the windows, still not seeing anyone, and making sure none of the neighbors were paying attention, Miranda crept around to the back yard.
It was in worse shape than the front. There was a wrecked kennel, and an empty dog chain at the center of a worn, muddy circle. No porch or patio, just a cracked set of cement stairs leading to a rusty screen door.
Miranda swore under her breath, teetering as her heels slipped and sunk in the muddy yard. She peeked in a rear window, seeing a dingy kitchen, but still no people. Fortunately, the back door was unlocked. She eased it open, then crept inside. The smell of old food and cigarette smoke filled her nose. The sink and counters were piled with dirty dishes. In the center of the room, between two wobbly chairs, was a small table with an overflowing ashtray on it.
There were voices coming from the front room, but she was pretty sure that was just the TV blaring. There was a second doorway out of the kitchen, leading to a darkened room. Miranda pushed it open gingerly and found a bedroom. A small closet had been left open with the light on. Laundry covered the floor, surrounding a mattress and box spring with no frame. There was a cheap looking dresser, one of the drawers missing its front. She pulled the door shut and crept towards the front room.
The television was an expensive looking flat screen that seemed to take up most of the far wall. The furniture in front of it was mismatched and old. There didn't seem to be anyone in there either, so she stepped out into the room for a better look. There was a computer desk against the wall closest to her. It had a laptop on it, and scattered papers which turned out to be various past due bills. Miranda leafed through a few of them shaking her head.
"A'ight, bitch, don't move!" snarled a voice behind her.
Miranda jumped and let out a startled squeal.
"Hands up!"
Great,
she winced, raising her hands.
How did he get behind me?
"Now turn around, real slow."
Miranda did as she was told. There was a man crouched in the doorway she'd just come through. His boney hand clutched a pistol that was aimed right at her. He was noticeably tall, even crouched, and overly skinny with cropped dirty blonde hair, and a patchy beard. He was wearing a worn-out wife beater and ripped jeans. His arms were covered in poorly done, uncoordinated tattoos that made her think of the scribblings in a child's coloring book. His eyes peered at her with a tired look in them.
"What the fuck are you doing in my house?" he demanded.
"I'm, uh, I'm Candy," she said in her fake drawl. "I'm looking for Paisley... you Baker?"
The man let his gaze slither over her body. Miranda titled her hips a little to accentuate her figure. His eyes lingered on the two plump breasts wrapped in the thin pink bandeau.
"Don't know no Paisley," he grumbled, waving his gun towards the door. "Get the fuck out."
"But, you're Baker, right?" she pressed. "C'mon man, she tol' me 'bout you, I'm cool."
His eyes narrowed.
"How else you think I knew to come here?"
"You work with her or some shit?"
Miranda glanced pointedly down at her scantily clad body. "Or some shit."
"Well, that bitch ain't here, so get the fuck on," he gestured towards the door again, thumbing back the hammer this time.
"C'mon man, don't be a dick," Miranda said, taking a step back. She arched slightly, pushing her boobs out even more, his eyes dropped to them immediately. "I'm just tryin' to find my friend and maybe a good time..."
"Fucken tweaker sluts," he groaned, but eased off the gun.
Miranda took her first deep breath in several moments. She lowered her hands slowly. "See you do know my girl! If she ain't here, where's she at?"
"Shut the fuck up, whore," he sounded irritated. "Come on."
