Anybody's Daughter (Angela Evans Series No. 2) by Pamela Samuels Young Read Free Book Online Page B

was at Dorsey High for protection. He went down south to college, then came home with some education and reunited with his boys. He started calling himself The Shepherd and talking himself up. The neighborhood dudes were impressed because he had a college degree and they started believing the hype. Eventually he was running things.”
    “Sounds like he just made up this persona and everybody fell in line.”
    “Basically. But the dudes out there today ain’t like us, man. They’re ruthless. They have no soul.”
    You had to be soulless to sell young girls. Dre was no saint, but he could never pimp women, much less children.
    “Pimpin’ is high tech now,” Coop continued. “Cuz of the Internet. That’s where they make the real money. Don’t have to have girls walking the track. They arrange everything over the Internet. Set up a motel room and just run the dudes in and out. A hundred, two hundred dollars a pop.”
    Dre brushed a hand down the back of his head.
    Coop reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Sorry, my brother. But I had to be real with you.”
    “Where can I find this punk?”
    “He owns a couple of liquor stores and runs City Stars on El Segundo.”
    “The strip club? I used to hang out there back in the day. I thought some older cat owned the place.”
    “He sold it several years ago. The Shepherd owns it now. The liquor stores and the club are just a front. His real operation is running ho’s. I also hear he’s also got loads of property, in South L.A. as well as the Valley. He drops in at City Stars from time to time. Easy to spot. Clean-cut-looking guy. Always flossin’. Drives a Bentley. But he runs three or four deep so you may have trouble getting to him. You should also talk to his old bottom bitch.”
    “His what?”
    Coop smiled. “Sometimes it’s hard to believe how square you are. Bottom bitch. A pimp’s ride-or-die chick. Her name’s Loretha Johnson. Used to be one of the baddest strippers to ever hit the pole. She’s out of the game now. Runs a home that takes in ex-prostitutes. You might be able to find her walking the track in Compton trying to coax young girls off the streets. She’ll probably have some helpful information about The Shepherd and I suspect she’ll be glad to give it up.”
    “If he has Bree, I’m gonna get her back. Then I’m personally goin’ after The Shepherd,” Dre said, getting to his feet.
    “You gotta approach this with your head on straight,” Coop warned. “Getting your girl back should be the only thing on your mind right now.”
    “It is,” Dre said as he moved toward the door.
    He would find Brianna and bring her home. Then somebody was gonna pay.

Chapter 12
Day One: 11:15 p.m.
    L oretha Johnson watched the young girl wobble along Long Beach Boulevard dressed in a halter top, cut-off jeans, black stilettos and sparkly red lipstick. She couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred pounds. The awkward manner in which she forced her bony hips from side to side underscored her adolescence.
    Standing in the doorway of an abandoned donut shop, Loretha waited for the right opportunity to approach. There was a steady trail of cars slowing down to check out the merchandise. She spotted two other girls on the opposite side of the street.
    “You want a date, baby,” the girl in the halter top called out in a child’s voice.
    A beige Camry pulled over to the curb a few yards ahead. The girl scampered over, barely able to balance herself on her too-high heels. She bent low, allowing the potential john to get a glimpse of her nonexistent cleavage.
    Loretha clasped her hands, then absently twirled a finger around her shoulder-length locs. She sucked in a breath, praying that the girl didn’t get in the car.
    “Ten dollars!” the girl yelled, springing back to her full height. “You must be crazy! I charge fifty for a blow job.”
    She tottered away cursing as the man drove off.
    Loretha glanced up and down the street, making sure the