Page 45 of Holding On

She shrugs. “I don’t know. Two others at least. My pimp would make sure that the texts and messages were always deleted.”

Nic sighs. I know he, Audrey, and Carlson were hoping for tangible evidence.

“Do you remember anything about him? A scar? His voice? A tattoo?

She leans forward slightly. “A tattoo? No. Not that white boy.” She shivers. “But his voice? Fuck, I’ll never forget his voice. It was like snakes in gravy.”

I must have looked confused or perplexed.

“Soft and smooth and all, but poisonous as hell.”

“If we brought him in and charged him, would you be willing to testify?” Nic’s voice is low, and I’m thinking she’s going to relegate him to the snakes-and-gravy world.

I’m right.

“Fuck no. Nothing personal. But I just got my shit together. I’ve been clean for two whole years. I’m in college now. I’ve got a three-point-eight grade point average I’ve worked my ass off for.”

Her eyes glitter again, but not from tears. She’s pissed. “I’m not giving any of that up.” Suddenly, she stands. “I did what you wanted. Now I have to go home. I’ve got classes this afternoon.”

“And you’re sure you can’t ID him?”

After one more glance to the print on the table, she shakes her head. “No.” Then she softens, just for a moment. “I know you want to get this motherfucker. But I can’t help you.”

Nic nods to Jackson, and the younger man stands with a hand out, ready to escort her to his car. “We can stop and grab some lunch if you’re hungry.”

“Can we contact you again?” I say.

She starts to say no, I can see it, but then something inside her shifts. “Yes,” she says. “This guy knew where I was, knew where Kelly and Aniyah were. When they shipped those two girls across I-90 through Ohio, it was his voice I heard from my pimp’s phone.”

“And you’re not giving up your pimp either.” Nic’s face is hidden in shadow.

She straightens her back. “I told you, I’m not testifying against this judge.”

“I understand,” says Nic, nodding. “But we could talk to your pimp if he had direct contact with Barr, then there’d be a connection.”

She looks at him with a mixture of confusion and sadness. “You don’t get it. My boy’s dead. They snuffed him. That’s when I got out.”