Someone To Believe In Read Free Page A

somebody in the GGs.
    Hey, you got the tag right.
    Yeah.
    Who was it?
    My sister. She was one of the original
members.
    Fucking A! You kiddin’ me?
    I wish I was. I saw firsthand what the GGs
did to girls.
    No comment.
    How old are you?
    Seventeen.
    How old were you when you got in?
    Fourteen.
    The same age as
Moira . Beautiful, troubled Moira, whom Bailey had
loved unconditionally, despite the problems her half sister had
caused in her family.
    That her name?
    Yeah. Did you jump or train in?
    Jumped. I ain’t no boy’s
slave. Bailey knew that “training” into a gang—fucking
several guys fast and in a row like train cars—was the preferred
method of gang initiation over “jumping” in, which consisted of
being brutally beaten by the members. Except if you trained in, you
were treated like scum afterward.
    What happened to her?
    Moira? She died.
    No answer.
    Again, Bailey glanced at the phone. Moira had
died in prison, where a young D.A., much like Clayton Wainwright,
had put her. Bailey herself had been partly responsible, too.
    You sad about it still?
    Every day of my life.
    You got more family?
    I do. Four brothers. Me, my mom, and dad.
    How come she join a gang if she got family
like you?
    Because Dad slipped up, and had a kid
with another woman. Long story. Since the girl seemed to want to talk, she asked, What’s your name?
    Tazmania. I go by Taz.
    Tell me about yourself.
    A pause. Maybe
later. Gotta jet now, Angel. Ciao.
    Ciao. And then
Bailey added, Stay in touch. Please. I’m on
tomorrow night.
    No answer.
    For a moment, Bailey just watched the blank
computer screen. Sighing, she leaned back in her rickety chair,
eased off her scuffed loafers, and propped her feet up on the desk.
Idly, she noted that her jeans were threadbare and almost white at
the knees. She plucked at the frayed cuffs of the oxford cloth
blouse she wore. Geez, she needed new clothes. But hell, who had
the time or inclination for shopping?
    Shutting her eyes and linking her hands
behind her neck, she tried to center herself. She became aware of
the quiet. It had gotten late, and the day-shift workers had left
the office. The hotline and website night crew would be in soon.
But for now she was alone with her memories of Moira. With the pain
that twisted her heart like an emotional vise whenever she thought
about her half sister. The pain had dulled, but never really gone
away. She was alone with her now-rabid zeal to save kids, which she
knew was obsessive. That quest had taken over her life until her
son, Rory, came along. And it was still too important to her. But
she couldn’t help it. She was going to make a difference.
    She thought of Clayton Wainwright—her nemesis
since his district attorney days. Though she didn’t blame him for
prosecuting her—she had been guilty, after all, of harboring the
kid when he’d told her he’d committed a crime—she did hold
Wainwright in contempt for his continual vigilance over her
organization, and his attempts to keep her funding at bay. Her
efforts had been stalled considerably, more than once, just
because of him. Now, however, a new battle would ensue; there was
money available from the government in a bill initiated by a
senator from Massachusetts and passed by Congress for both social
agencies and law enforcement. Bailey wanted some of the funds.
Wainwright was just as determined not to give them to her.
    If he only knew what was really what. But he
lived in an ivory tower, with a silver spoon in his mouth, so he
could never conceive of what street life was like for kids. Because
of that he was dangerous. Best to keep her guard up. With a man
like him, you needed your guns poised and your belt full of
ammunition; she couldn’t hand him any bullets to stop her with no
matter how nicely he asked.
    “Beware, Senator Wainwright,” she said
glaring at the phone. “I’m gonna win this round. The Street Angel
is not giving up.”
     
     
    TAZ TURNED UP the volume of the latest
Marilyn