"Relax, Miss Daae. You're not under arrest,"
Christine looked up to detective Dave Casey, lead investigator. He had a stern face but also an understanding manner about him- his slate blue eyes didn't appear angry or even very suspicious of her. He also appeared stressed to her, and nowhere near in the mood for any games.
She only wished that she knew why they had taken her in.
The police station was actually very much like the ones she'd been taken to in all the states between Colorado and Florida, where her mother had brought her along to bail Michael out for one offense or another. Cluttered, cramped desks were arranged in neat lines across the floor, the constant ring of telephones was scattered as background noise throughout the droning murmur of people talking back and forth. The smell of stale coffee pervaded the entire building.
Christine hated it- the place only served to dredge up so many of her haunting memories. She half expected to see her mother and Michael walk out from behind the bail bond office door. She had been thankful when the two officers who had brought her in led her to the interrogation room where investigator Casey had been waiting.
He had graciously provided her with a cold can of Dr. Pepper. The cola did nothing to steady her nerves, but then who could be calm after being taken off the street like a criminal?
Her cool eyes met his. "Then why am I here? I haven't done anything, or if I have, I'm sure I can-"
"Miss Daae, please. Calm down, you are not here because of anything you've done. Actually, you're here for what you haven't done."
Christine frowned, finding her fire. "Well, then please, detective, just tell me why I'm here."
The older man raised his brows, and his mouth quirked to almost suggest he wanted to smile at her moxy. Almost. "Well, since you asked so nicely, young lady, I'll cut to the chase." He sat down across from her and opened the manila folder he'd had tucked under his arm since she'd been brought in. Casey opened the folder and spread several photographs on the table before her, along with a group of mug shots and a few legal documents.
"That club where you work, Mama V's, is run but May Elise Valerious. As you can see here, she's had more than a few run-ins with the Louisiana PD. Most of her problems out there in the swamps went away after she treated the police chiefs of New Orleans to a little Mardi Gras action in the back rooms of her clubs."
Christine shrugged. "So what? One precinct is the same as any other. If you'd been on duty there, I'm sure you would have joined the party." She said boldly. It wasn't that she was afraid any longer, or upset with detective Casey himself, rather, it was what he represented. Christine had encountered more than her fair share of police officers throughout her years, usually in the middle of the night from calls of the neighbors citing a domestic disturbance.
Perhaps she still carried a bit of resentment that the police in the various states they'd lived in had not done her the favor of putting a bullet in Michael's chest.
Casey shrugged. "I'm not into dabbling with pole dancers, you never know what you might catch." His implication was obvious and Christine rolled her eyes.
"All right, so she provided some entertainment to the police in New Orleans, but again, so what? You're not trying to convince me that suddenly NYPD is cracking down on this kind of 'insider trading'?" Christine asked. She usually wasn't so bold, but as she was still unaware of why she was being held, she felt that this detective deserved a bit of her venom. "Why should anyone care?"
Casey dropped the easy banter attitude. "We care because ever since that club opened, your boss has been using it as a cover for narcotics trading!"
Christine stared at him, shocked by his words.
He leaned forward. "Not so cocky now, are you, blondie? Now you need to shut that smart mouth of yours and open up your ears, all right?"
Christine nodded, feeling the world crash down on her. 'Oh, God, they brought me in because they think I'm a drug dealer!' She felt her chest tighten unbearably and her stomach clench hard deep within her torso.
"Yes, sir," she said meekly.
Detective Casey nodded. "Right. Now, pay attention. Valerious receives regular shipments of cocaine, heroin, and anything else on her grocery list from her friends in New Orleans. They get it from their friends below the border. Now, most drug dealers keep it simple and have their friends do the drop off and the pick up- May does that, but it's only the drop off that sets her so far apart from any of the others that Narcotics has been watching this year. May has the strippers to the drop and provide a little entertainment on the house." Casey shrugged, "It's not full-scale prostitution, as far as we can prove, but Vantor has gained a lot of popularity in a wide range of clients."
Christine nodded dumbly as she looked at the pictures in front of her. May's mug shots from New Orleans intermingled with grainy black-and-white shots of some of the girls she recognized from the club; they were happily handing over envelopes and little packages to various groups of people of all different races, ages, and obvious economic standing.
Cinnamon and Crystal were in most of the photos.
She frowned, 'I can't believe this, its insane!'
"See anyone you recognize?" Casey asked, watching her.
She nodded. "Yes, that's um, that's Cinnamon, this is Crystal, Candi, and Heaven." She pointed to each of the photos.
"You're cooperating already, I like that. Thank you. We believe that most of the girls are innocent, and under the impression that they're just doing the boss a favor. A select few, Chantelle Johnson, or Cinnamon, as you know her, she's in the know which is why you see her here going into the building with the men; she's there to provide a bit more bang for their buck." He informed her, a subtle tone of disgust entering into his voice.
Christine nodded. "I never knew her real name,"
"You will soon enough. You're not here because we think you're in on it. In fact, we know you're not- we've been watching May for months. You're point A to point B- you go to work and go straight home. Although, not lately," he said slyly. "We know about the arrangement made with Erik Latour."
A dead weight set on her chest. "He hasn't done anything, there's nothing to charge against him."
Casey nodded. "The only thing he's guilty of is being a bad judge of character, just look at the people he associates with." Again, his implication was aimed directly at her.
In Erik's defense, Christine spoke up, "Erik is a wonderful man, you don't know the half of it!"
"Oh, don't I? Well, all right, let's see what I do know. Opera tickets, dinner at high-end restaurants, shopping sprees, exclusive spas and salons, jewelry, fancy dogs imported from Europe, and you arrived at the club today in a custom made Aston Martin. Is that right?"
Christine rubbed her arm and nodded.
The investigator smirked. "If there's more, I'd love to hear it."
She shook her head.
"No more? I'm disappointed, but for all the money Latour has spent so far, I'm sure he hasn't been. Now, I'm through talking about that arrogant prick. Damn near bit my head off today."
Christine frowned. "You talked to him?"
Casey nodded. "He's in the other interrogation room. He's the sole investor of May's club- it doesn't make him an accomplice, but we had to make him aware of the situation, and because the situation now involves you, we have to make things very plain."
Christine huffed, "So why don't you?"
"You can't quit the club. We're going to need you on the inside- we can't bring in a female officer because May's circle is too tight. She didn't get to where she is today by sharing all her secrets of success. But she knows you, and even though she won't give you anything because of Erik, you can be our eyes and tip us off."
Christine stared at him dumbly.
"You get it, Christine? All you have to do is go back to dancing until we're able to get enough evidence against Valerious for an arrest."
Her jaw tensed, "No, I won't do it!"
He took a slow, deep breath, "All right, before you go, let me paint a picture for you. The dealing operation goes on for a few more weeks, maybe a couple more months go by, but we'll catch her eventually, and tear her club apart. Latour, being the only investor, will be called in to court, and as his lady-friend and a former employee, you'll be right behind him. He's a well-known figure in the city, and this case will definitely get some press. If you cooperate, we can keep this quiet. If you don't, not only will every last detail of your lives be dragged out into the spotlight, but I'll also bring you up on obstruction."
The detective paused a moment to let everything he'd said sink in.
"Well, Christine, will you cooperate or not?"
The detective's ultimatum of cooperation or be charged with obstruction made for a long, tense day. Erik and Christine spent much of their time apart in the apartment. Upon their return, Christine had immediately retreated to the guestroom, and had been locked away with the dogs for several hours already.
The drive back from the police station had been silent as well, for they'd both been trying too hard not to think of what lay ahead. For Christine, a return to daily humiliation and for Erik, the unspeakable frustration of being helpless to someone that he cared for so deeply.
It had been hours since they'd returned, and Christine had not spoken to him. Not a word. Erik paced the living room, his pain and anger so immense that he could only rage inwardly, turning the storm inward rather than unleash it upon the girl. Christine. She was the only innocent, and yet she'd been dealt so much!
Abuse in the past, the responsibility of a mother's care, to be so degraded and exploited…
No.
Erik paused and took a long, deep breath. No, Christine needs comfort, support. Things I don't know how to give…but, for her, I will do anything I can.
He was upset and furious for his monumental failure. Didn't I promise to protect her? What kind of man am I, to have let them drag her back onto the stage?! Men will see her, touch her…
Erik clenched his hand and put his fist through the wall. He groaned as he stared at the damage he'd caused. This loft suffers for my foolishness and anger, he thought as he rubbed his pained knuckles. I must get a hold of myself. He looked toward the door of the guestroom. He saw from the shadow moving on the floor that Christine was inside, pacing as she had been for the last hour.
Her door did not open to him. I cannot frighten her in my anger- the girl is blameless. I must remember that. I can't make demands of her body, but the police certainly have! She is nothing but a tool to them, those bastards!
Erik put his head in his hands and sighed deeply. It had already grown very late, and Christine had not left the guestroom to speak with him. He was disappointed, but he could not force the issue upon her. To her, he was a salvation of comfort. She would come to him when she was ready, he knew.
He paced, feeling terribly restless and even worse, useless. Erik felt too exhausted to cook, and he wasn't much in the mood to eat anyway. His mask looked up at him from the coffee table and Erik took it, turning it over and over in his hands as a nervous habit.
Christine needed him, but she would not come to him!
Erik wished only to protect her, but he was helpless!
Helpless, am I?
He paused and pondered a way to save her. Christine had done nothing to earn the trials she'd suffered. Erik frowned deeply, glaring at the closed guestroom door. I will not stand by and allow you to degrade yourself- you will not exist as a pawn between the police and that lying bitch May. No more, Christine. You had no one before, but you have me now. I am yours, as you are mine. I will not allow this- I will make plans of my own.
Thoughts flew through his mind, some captured, some discarded. An idea formed, the seeds of a plan. Erik stood and went into his own bedroom.
An hour later, Erik was lying on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling. The ideas came together in his mind to form a plan, but there were far too many holes. Christine was meant to go in to dance in the morning, to take up her regular day schedule for the week. There was no time to put his ploy into action before Christine would be expected to show up for work. The police would be watching; if she did not arrive, she could be held for obstruction of justice.
He blinked, and realized that May had no idea of all that had happened between he and Christine in the space of just these past few days. Erik rubbed his forehead and put a hand through his hair- so much had happened!
That dinner, the opera, what we revealed to each other, she coming to live in with me, me sending her out with Claudette…my God, it's been a whirlwind!
Just thinking of it all exhausted him, and he punched the pillow beneath his head in frustration. I can stop all of this, but not if Christine doesn't go in to dance. God, this is making me sick! To save Christine, I must make her suffer…was there ever a pair of more miserable wretches than us?!
There was a click at his door, and he watched as Christine slipped into his room. It was dark, but he could see her in the moonlight coming in from the window. She was staring at him, her eyes silver in the dim white light. She was wearing a night set this time, a simple tank and shorts. He sat up to show he was awake, but he did not speak. Erik had no desire to say anything, he only wanted her with him.
No more silly challenges or games. The fun was over.
Erik patted the bed, inviting her to come to him.
The girl did not hesitate.
Christine moved forward, her long hair swinging about her face as she came to the bed. She climbed in and lay down on her side, her back facing toward him. Erik shifted to lay down beside her, molding so that their bodies fit together. He brought an arm around her waist, resting his hand first over the curve of her hip, then further down to her side and stomach.
She sighed and put her hand over his, lacing their fingers. After a time, she whispered to him, "I don't want to do this."
Erik moved her hair out of the way and kissed the nape of her neck. He squeezed her hand in reassurance. "I know you don't. I'll find a way to stop this, I promise you,"
"There's nothing you can do."
"You're wrong," he insisted, suddenly forceful. He took her shoulder and moved her onto her back, forcing her to look at him. Erik loomed over her. "I can and I will stop this. For you, I'll find a way to end it." He declared. Christine put her hands to his face, one hand on each cheek.
She said nothing, she only kissed him.