back.
Etceterra said, “You’re looking at kidney failure if that door isn’t opened in five seconds.”
The man inserted the card and unlocked the door three seconds later.
Etceterra shoved him inside, sending him to the floor, then closed the door. He used one hand to motion for the man to get up. When the man stood, Etceterra nudged him forward. They turned the corner and now a young, white woman could be seen in bed.
As they approached the call girl, the elderly man began feeling as if he would break down.
The woman was young. Very young. She was lying in bed with the covers pulled up to her neck.
Etceterra pat-searched the man then slipped on a pair of clear latex gloves. He produced some plasticuffs and secured the man’s wrists behind his back. After looking at the man’s driver’s license he said to the girl, “You work for Echelon?”
“Yes. Yes, sir.”
He walked up to the bed and pulled the covers off of her. She was naked. “How old are you?”
She said, “Thirteen.”
Etceterra sighed. He tossed the covers back on top of her. “Get dressed. You’re leaving with me.” He turned toward the man. “Pete Garland. Sit down. Right there on the floor.” He studied the items that were in the man’s wallet. Too many credit cards - even a black card - photos, maybe $800. Etceterra stuffed the wallet in his own pocket.
Pete said, “Can I make a deal with you, buddy?”
“No deals.” Etceterra pulled out a prepaid phone and dialed Brian’s cell phone number. After six rings he ended the call. He stepped past Pete and walked over to the window. He looked down in the parking lot and saw two white men inspecting Brian’s stolen Ford Explorer. His heart began racing.
Pete wanted to talk to the gunman, talk his way out of this mess. The girl was still in the bathroom getting dressed.
Etceterra returned to Pete then sat at the foot of the bed facing him. He retrieved a silencer and a digital recorder from the left pocket of his sports coat. As he fitted the silencer onto the end of his handgun, he said, “I’m looking for a reason to kill my first pedophile. I’m going to ask you a few questions, Pete. I expect nothing but the truth.”
“I won’t lie to you, buddy. I swear.”
“That’s good, but if you call me your buddy again, I’ll prove you wrong.”
The girl slowly exited the bathroom timidly, unsure of how to act. She was very pretty and still retained a look of innocence.
Etceterra looked back and said, “Sit here, next to me. What’s your name?”
“Veranda.” She sat next to the gunman.
“Veranda what?”
“Veranda Spielman.”
“Well, Veranda,” Etceterra said, “sit here and listen to everything this foolish old man is about to tell me. I’ll need you to fill in some of the blanks later.” He looked at his phone and thought about calling Echo. But first, he needed some answers.
Chapter 7
“THERE ARE THREE HOTELS called Hiatus,” Pete said. “One’s in San Fran and L.A. and San Diego, here. You call a certain number and ask for Dale Oates. Describe your preferred Caucasian date, which means you’ll have to stay down here.”
Etceterra said, “In other words?”
“In San Diego, they have only Caucasians waiting in the room for you. In L.A., they only have blacks; and in San Fran, they have their homosexuals. All appointment are private, and the transactions are cash-only.”
“How much?”
Pete said, “Two thousand per night for a single appointment. Two dates is thirty-five hundred, and so is a single date under the age of seventeen.”
Etceterra wanted to shoot him in the head. “This Dale Oates, can anybody call him and get a date set up if they have the money?”
“Definitely not. They only trust clients they’ve dealt with for a while. A long-term client would have to recommend the new person. Even then, Echelon would do a background check on him or her, and probably their own investigation. It could take weeks to get
Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy