The Librarian Ch. 02

The man came back with his little valise which he unzipped and placed on the picnic table. He helped the librarian to her feet and led her back to the table. She winced with pain as she tried to remove her T-shirt and the man helped her take it off.

He took off the bloody bandage, cleaned the wound and put a fresh bandage on her belly. She grimaced at the cold bite of the antiseptic but remained speechless. He looked at her face and winced. He went back to the car and came back with a bottle of water and a washcloth.

The librarian reached for them and the man held them away from her.

"I'll do it!" he said.

He wiped around her mouth and dabbed antiseptic on a cut on her lip and appraised his work.

"I've made a clean spot so I might as well finish," he said and gently wiped her face clean.

When he finished she gave him a bitter smile.

"I loved your brother," she said.

"So did I," he replied and packed up the valise.

He gave her the remains of the water to drink and took everything else back to the car. He came back with another cup of vodka and orange juice.

He offered it to her and she shook her head.

"Go on drink it," he said.

"No. Enough, enough," she sighed.

"But I sure could use a cigarette," she smiled and winced when her split slip stung.

He lit two cigarettes and offered her one. When she reached for it he moved her hand away and put the cigarette between her lips. His finger touched the side of her face and she cringed in anticipation of being struck.

The man delicately stroked the side of her face and then withdrew his hand.

"You always expect the worse don't you?" he drew on his cigarette.

She looked into his cold blue eyes.

"That way I'm never disappointed," she said.

The man went back to the car and came back with the file.

"Tina Anderson and Lyle Brinkman, AKA Devon Devine, own Xavier Productions. It's a pornography business producing magazines and DVDs but like most porn businesses today its main income comes from online video streaming sales."

The librarian nodded; she knew Tina was in the porn game but back then Tina was a performer, not a producer

"Tina still appears in some movies but she and Devon are now mainly in production. But their online porn business is failing; too many free sites. So they have started making 'special' movies; real perverted shit, you saw the clip."

"Also they have teamed up with Raffe Ignesman who used to be an LA pimp back in the day but has made his way along the sewer and is now connected to organised crime and of course so is Devon. Raffe finds Devon young girls and boys to act in his films. The usual bullshit, find kids fleeing from their homes at bus stations or find runaways living on the streets, get them hooked on dope and hire their asses out to Devon and Tina. It's also suspected that they are prostituting the girls and boys to sickos who have, shall we say, special needs."

"These sickos pay a lot of money, so business for Devon, Tina, and Ruffe is good; but not so for Raffe's charges who are really little more than sex slaves," the man explained.

"Which is what happened to Stacy Patterson when she ran away from home," the librarian said.

"Bingo, go to the top of the class," the man smiled.

"At least that's what I think happened. The problem is Xavier Productions is a legitimate company duly registered in the State of California. It pays taxes and its books are open to inspectors. I've looked and there is nothing illegal to be found," the man lit them both cigarettes and passed her one.

This time when their fingers touched he didn't flinch.

"All the sex slave stuff is obviously underground," the librarian added.

"Bingo again," the man said.

"And I come into this how? Sure I know Tina but I haven't seen her for years," the librarian asked.

"You used to be her lover?" the man looked at her inquiringly.

She blushed and looked down at her feet and then looked him in the eye.

"Yes I did. But that was before Drew and I..."

"I know. Before you and Drew reconciled after Amanda's funeral," he cut her off.

"So do you think you can rekindle your friendship?"

"I... I'm not sure...it's so difficult.." the librarian began.

"Wait there's more. You might have to...you know get involved in the business. Do stuff. Prove that you're willing to actively participate in their sordid trade. What we call go deep undercover," the man said.

The librarian looked down at her feet and then raised her face to his. She once again had that dull look in her dead eyes,

"Because of what I am. Because I'm a lush. Because of my past. Because I don't matter to anyone," she said mechanically.

The man stood up and pulled the librarian to her feet. He held her at arms distance and looked into her eyes.

"Because Stacy needs you. Because Sloane needs you," he said earnestly.

"And because, regardless of what I think of you, my brother loved you."

The librarian came out of her trancelike state and suddenly realised the man was holding her hands

"Ok. I can see that Tina might want to rekindle our friendship, maybe for old time's sake. But why would she let me 'participate in their sordid trade' as you put it?"

The man pulled her closer. He was looking down at the ground and they were standing toe to toe. He raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

"Because of what you are," he said.

"Because I'm transgender," she whispered.

"Yes," he whispered in return.

"Because there are sickos out there who have special needs," she whispered.

"Yes," he murmured.

He watched her eyes brim with tears and then run down her cheeks but she nodded her assent.

They stood in silence for a while, toe to toe, hand in hand.

"Did you really beg them to kill you?" he whispered.

She nodded and the tears fell from her face into the dust.

"Then can you do me favour?" he asked.

She nodded again.

"Can you stop begging me to do it. Regardless of what I think of you, my brother loved you," he sighed.

He pulled her into his arms as she started to sob and he let her rest her head on his shoulder.

After a while he gently disengaged from her.

"We better get going," he said.

She nodded and they threw the detritus of their visit to the trash cans.

As they were walking to the car the librarian suddenly stopped and the man turned around.

"What now?"

"Last night when I was banging on the motel room door. I was trying to call out to you to help me but then I realised I don't even know your name," she said.

The man shook his head in disbelief.

"Randy Carter," he smiled.

"Sarah Carter, or at least I used to be," she smiled and held out her hand.

The man shook it.

"Ok get in, we still got a ways to go," Sarah reached for the door handle and Randy beat her to it and opened the door for her.

They stayed in another cheap motel on the outskirts of LA but Sarah couldn't eat. She was suffering withdrawal and as much Randy insisted she wouldn't take a drink. She spent most of the evening in the bathroom and when she came out she was pale and shaking and at the same time hot and sweaty.

She threw some blankets and a pillow on the floor in a dark corner of the room and curled up shivering but she eventually fell asleep. In the early hours of the morning she started to moan and Randy woke up and turned on the bedside light.

Sarah was having a nightmare. She had kicked off her bedclothes and was writhing on the floor; her hair plastered to her face.

Randy picked her up in his arms. She remained unconscious while he carried her to the bed, amazed at how frail she was.

He sat up most of the night putting cold compresses on her forehead until she eventually stopped sweating and moaning. He fell asleep beside her exhausted.

Sometime during the night she snuggled up to him in her sleep and put an arm around him. He woke up and tried to disengage but she hugged him closer and whimpered in her delirium.

"Drew?"

He patted her hand and went back to sleep.

To be continued...