Chapter 429: Katrina XV—Standing in the Way

After going back upstairs and informing Pierre of the latest exploits of his bone head players, Katrina came straight back to the lobby and locked eyes with the head concierge. The man, a slim, balding, pathetic looking thing with an overbite raised his eyebrows and twitched his nose. “I want to talk with you,” Katrina said as soon as she was close enough for him to hear her.

“Is there something wrong, Miss,” he replied, interlacing his fingers, she could see his shoulders pull back and square, a man a veteran of many battle with much more important people. She would assume he’d remind her of that sooner rather than later.

“I need to ask you something, and I swear to God you better not lie to me,” Katrina replied in a low voice, leaning forward and showing him that she didn’t want to make a scene, but she could be capable of one if pushed that way.

“Well the concierge is here to help, Miss.” He replied warmly, holding out his hands, long slim fingers.

“Good,” Katrina nodded, “Good. Now I need to know about a girl…” The man’s cheeks reddened, and he blinked rapidly, lip trembled, all in a few seconds before he recovered his composure. And Katrina couldn’t even dream that that was a coincidence. “You may have seen her, small girl, about twelve years old, black hair, green eyes, have you seen a girl like that hanging around here?”

“No,” the concierge, Jarvis his nametag read, said and he sniffed, pointed nose, comical face, lying shit. “I don’t recall ever seeing a girl like that around here… recently? Is that what you’re asking, have I seen a girl like that recently? Well, then no.” He smacked his lips and blinked his eyes, his job done as far as he was concerned.

Katrina shook her head, “No, no, no, look I already know the girl was here as of yesterday, and possibly last night, okay. So it’s no use telling me you didn’t see her, someone must have seen her, aren’t you aware of who is and isn’t loitering around your establishment? Really, you guys notice these things don’t you?”

Jarvis breathed in, and breathed out, as if practiced at the calming properties of breathing. “Miss, I can’t speak for anyone else, but I can tell you that I don’t know of any girl matching that description on these premises.”

Oh he wouldn’t stand in her way, it wouldn’t end like that. It would be easy enough to believe him, but for that quick look that resembled fear when she first asked the question. He knew something for some reason. But this type of man, he could be accustomed to dealing with psychotic females, she would have to get through to him a different method. Taking a page from his example, she breathed in and breathed out slowly, chasing away her temper and she smiled softly. “Sir, please, is there anyway you can help me? Maybe she belonged to some guests here? Maybe? Is there a way I could just find…”

“We at the L---- G--- Hotel pride ourselves on maintaining the privacy of our guests names and where…”

“Alright, alright,” Katrina said quickly not wanting to hear a canned speech of the hotel’s virtue or protecting the morally bankrupt. “I understand, I understand, you’re not supposed to compromise your guests, that’s comforting, but I don’t want a name, just,” oh yeah, of course, she reached into her purse and grabbed a couple of large bills, sliding it over the counter. “I just want to know if anyone else saw this girl, I just want to know if she’s okay, is that alright? Can’t I just know if she’s okay?”

Jarvis’ eyes, she saw them flicker, his eyebrows crinkled, “Is there any reason to be concerned?”

Katrina shook her head, “I don’t know,” she whispered.

He glanced down at the money and slid it back to her. “Well Miss, I’m sorry, but I cannot help you, if I see this girl, then I can have you informed but that’s the best that I can do.”

Katrina took the money back and crumpled it in her palm, not ready to be appeased with nothing to show for it. “You know who I’m talking about then?”

His cheeks reddened and he spoke with malicious irritation, “No I don’t know who you are talking about, and what’s more I think the issue is closed, because I have never…”

Katrina blinked and felt her anger bubble up. “How could you possibly not know what I’m talking about. Either she belonged to a patron here or she didn’t you can’t say you wouldn’t notice a girl like…”

“Is this guy not treating you right?” And the last person she wanted to deal with appeared at her elbow, Peter Forsberg. He smelled of expensive cologne, and fresh shampoo and soap, and everything else a healthy, arrogant, self worshipping male would emit. She looked straight into his sled dog pale eyes, and gave him the full force of her unwillingness to even look at him right now. “Get lost meatball.”

Forsberg blushed and skulked away. She then looked back at the concierge.

“Are you here with him?” Jarvis asked, and he seemed off put.

Well this hotel did kiss athlete’s asses, Katrina thought, and the last thing they would want is to fall out of any of their high profile guest’s graces. Maybe she shoulda had Peter stay by her side, if this matter weren’t so god damned personal. “Sure, I work for him.”

“And is he interested in finding this girl?” Jarvis said looking in the direction of the hotel entrance way. He clasped his hands together.

“Sure,” Katrina said slowly realizing she’d just hit a fifty fifty chance of answering correctly. “Sure, he’s interested.”

Jarvis shook his head and looked at her, this time his eyes were stony and self righteous, as if the man felt a martyr for what he had to put up with in life, as if she were the one who should feel ashamed of herself. “Again, no I do not know of this girl, I’ve never heard of her, I’ve never seen her and even if I did, then the last one I would ever tell would be you… or him.” He narrowed his eyes, conversation done.

“Look at me!” Katrina exclaimed and she felt her throat tightening, her cheeks flushing. “Look at me!”

“I am, Miss.”

“She’s my sister,” she pleaded. “Sir, she’s my sister, please help me.”

Unimpressed, Jarvis thinned his lips. “No I can’t.”

Denver, 1997

Katrina’s legs were too tired to do much with them, they were too sore for her to cross, and too tired for her to keep her knees closed. She sat straight, but her legs flopped uselessly, hung open, she wouldn’t be able to dredge up much grace today. She could only use her determination and she looked that woman, Ms. Waters straight in the eye. “So are you gonna give her back?”

Ms. Waters pursed her lips and rested her hands one on the other, “I’m afraid, Miss Volanges, that’s impossible, we don’t have your sister here.”

“Where is she?” Katrina said, “Just tell me where she is?”

“There’s no reason why we would have…”

“I know you have her!” Katrina yelled standing up. “I know you have her! Chloe! Her name is Chloe, okay, Chloe, she’s a human being, she’s seven, I want her back. You have no right to keep her now give her to me before I call the cops!”

Ms. Waters widened her eyes, turned her head to one side, and looked at her from the corner of her glance. “Call the police?”

“Yes,” Katrina growled, “I’ll call them.”

“And do what?” She seemed unperturbed and that put Katrina off a bit.

“Well, tell them you have her, I’ll get her back and…”

“And do what?”

Katrina felt unbalanced now, she could smell something off, and it scared her. “What do you mean? She’d be safe with me, where she belongs.”

“Katrina,” Ms. Waters said standing up slowly, “If you really had any clout behind you, wouldn’t your parents be here instead of you? What happened? Why are you beat up, bloody, smelly, and near dead from exhaustion in my office if you have anyone else to speak for you? If you get Chloe back, what would you bring her home to? Do you even have a home?”

Trembling, Katrina hated herself for not being able to control the trembling all over her body. “She’s my sister. What are you doing with her?”

“Foster homes,” Ms. Waters said, “Do you think they’d put you two with the same family? Would you get to see her again? What kind of life would she have?”

“What?” Katrina said and she shook her head. “Why do you think I’d just abandon my sister to you people I have no idea what you’re doing with her!”

Ms. Waters smiled. “You’ll have to trust me dear, now would you like to get washed up before I explain everything to you? Are you hungry? We can provide…”

Feeling so dirty, and exhausted, and desperate, Katrina accepted the offer of the shower, and the food, and a nap and during that time she calmed down, and felt more at peace. Perhaps they would show her to Chloe after all this, when she was cleaned and rested, maybe it was just a matter of minutes or hours. They’ll be back together.

The building purported to be a modeling agency, and perhaps this is the accomadations models liked during the day, enduring weeks of photo shoots, and living far from home. There were rooms and showers, almost like a hotel, or almost like something else, and Katrina felt nervous at first, inspecting her room for anything, but found no drugs, or condoms or hairs or stains or anything that would have signalled danger. So she waited in a room; it seemed like another reception area, big huge, soft couch. Katrina ate an entire plate full of cookies and drank the coffee set out which, didn't taste tarred and black like the shit she was used to from home.

Finally, someone came to talk to her, Katrina had no idea what time it was, but when the door opened she sat up straight and she smoothed her hair down. "Do you have Chloe?" And she made sure to put the same authority and weight in her voice that she'd heard Huxton's wife and Ms. Waters use. It seemed to be the tone of choice for any woman of power. No matter what favors these people thought they'd done for her now, she needed to remind them that she'd not forgotten her purpose.

Another woman greeted her, there seemed to be no males in this building at all, perhaps that was a good sign? The woman like the rest she'd seen, had the striking, lean lines and looks of a model, which, considering this agency's stated purpose, made sense. Dark black eyes and eye liner, and dark brown skin, Katrina recognized this woman's type, the ancient ladies she used to practice French with, they called them "quadroons". She stopped a smile, she supposed this lady wouldn't appreciate a term like that applied to her.

"Hello, Miss," the woman said, "I'm Kathy Blakely, let's try to straighten this situation out shall we? So that everyone can be satisfied without any, inconveniences?"

"You guys really don't want me going to the police." Katrina stated and she leveled her gaze at Kathy Blakely, a woman who didn't have a clue as how the girl who sat before her wanted to tear her face off her skull, and what she'd gone through already to get here.

Blakely's throat tightened and she held out a folder, a manila package, she slid it onto the coffee table, pushing aside the cookie plate. "Your sister is in the best possible hands she or you could ever want for her."

"What?" Katrina said and she picked up the envelope, it contained papers, papers with names blacked out, numbers crossed out, pictures covered over but what she could read were dossiers, snippets of biographies, job descriptions, salaries, astronomical salaries. "What does this mean?"

"Money can get people so many things, it can provide so much," Kathy said, "but for some, it cannot bring the one thing they most want."

Katrina frowned. "I know that."

"Babies,” Kathy said and her meaning dawned on Katrina and she felt her veins twist within her wrists. Her fingers curled. “There are so many people with heart and means, they just want a child, or a baby, someone they can love and nurture, and sometimes lists for those sort of children, perfect, healthy, beautiful vibrant children are too daunting and heart breaking to wait upon.”

“You sold her for adoption?” Katrina whispered and she wondered if she would grab that cookie plate and smash it over Kathy’s head. “You sold my sister for adoption?”

“Now listen, Miss,” Kathy said holding out her hand, long skinny pale fingers, a long skinny arm, but she didn’t look at all concerned. “Look at those files, look at those people, and tell me that you could provide her with better?”

“Money doesn’t matter,” Katrina said slowly. “I could…”

“They’re looking for you in Atlanta.”

Every muscle in Katrina’s body tightened with fear and defeat. “How do…”

“You gave us your real name,” Kathy replied, “It wasn’t hard. Now it doesn’t seem as if you would be prosecuted at all for your…”

“Don’t call him my father I never had one!” Katrina shrieked.

Kathy smiled, smug, self satisfied. “Well anyway, they won’t prosecute you for it, you do have a friend in a high place, don’t you dear, now that was smart of you wasn’t it? Any pretty and intelligent girl knows enough to start early on getting connections like that.”

Sniff, “Huxton’s an asshole.”

“Of course he is,” Kathy replied. “All men are, but this one can’t bring himself to see you in trouble, you’re fortunate. But the matter still stands that you’re underage, and you’re here when you should be there, when you belong it seems for all intents and purposes as a ward to the state of Georgia, not Colorado. One word from us and we can pack you back home, to be raised by a foster family, a foster life, and even if you’re sister was with you, she more than likely wouldn’t be with you. Do you understand?”

No tears, she couldn’t even feel them. “She’s my sister.”

Kathy sighed as if put upon by the heaviest burden in the world. “Look, I can tell you that you’re sister is so lucky to be attractive and smart, she was adopted almost immediately, no one could resist her. She isn’t even in this state anymore, she’s probably in a summer home in Maine, or a family beach house in Los Angeles, she could be anywhere, but most importantly she is somewhere far more privileged and elite and secure than anything the two of you have ever known. In ten years she’ll be a debutante, she’ll be running charities, she’ll be dating heirs to fortunes, she’ll be in college, she’ll be making the people who wanted a beautiful daughter to love, so happy. Does that mean anything to you? Wouldn’t you want that for her?”

No, she couldn’t believe this. Katrina shook her head and she felt a tear wobble in one of her eyes. “Money and status, that’s not important.”

“Did you ever tell that to James Huxton?”

Now the tears fell, and Katrina sobbed, howled, lost. “I just want my sister back!”

“I told you, she’s taken care of, she’ll be the perfect….”

“Nooo!” Katrina yelled and she stood up and swung a punch, landing it square of Kathy’s cheek. The woman cried out and fell off her chair holding onto her face and Katrina felt so good, so exhilarated that now she applauded Miss Huxton for slapping her just days before. “You stupid bitch you can’t have Chloe!”

A man ran into the room, the first man she’d seen here, he had his eyes on her, determined to do her harm. “No!” Kathy yelled and she held out her hand to stay the man. “She’s not dangerous.”

“But Chloe is,” Katrina hissed glaring at Kathy. “She is. If you’re telling the truth and she’s with some high faluting rich ass old money couple with the best intentions, let me tell you it’s gonna fucking blow up in their face and in yours cause none of you know what exactly you’re dealing with.”

“You’re punch was better than your threat,” Kathy replied, standing up and working her jaw, a lump already appearing on her cheek. Ah felt so good to look at that.

“I ain’t lying,” Katrina snapped.

“I’m sure, and what’s wrong with Chloe, your sister, is she sick, is there something the doctors could have missed in examination.”

Her last card to play. Katrina tapped her forehead. “She’s sick here, just like me. There’s something not right here either,” she tapped her breast. “Chloe’s pretty as me, maybe prettier but she can crawl in a person’s skull, and when she does that you ain’t never gonna claw her out. She doesn’t understand the world around us like we do,” and Katrina thought of the little girl sitting on the bible and singing spirituals, angered that the priests had berated her for saying she could do things better than Jesus. “She’s stubborn, she’s a zealot! She’s strange, no family would ever tolerate her for long no matter how badly they want a child, only I understand her! She only listens to me she don’t listen to no one else. Please!”

“She’s in good hands,” Kathy said. “Be thankful for that.” She looked at the man, “And be thankful for how we’ll let you go, Sam, throw her out.”

Apparently, Sam took things literally. Katrina landed hard on the pavement once booted out the front door, she cried in anger and pain, she looked at her skinned knees and palms. And they expected her to be quiet about this?

“OOOO!” Katrina growled, almost screeched.

“Please Senorita are you alright? Why did they do that?”

Katrina narrowed her eyes and looked at the man who had his hands on her, helping her up, gawky, birdish, not Mexican, European, pale skin and close cropped hair. “Hands off shithead.”

The man smiled, thick lips, narrow chin. “Is that how you talk to the photographer, and they throw you out?”

Katrina scowled and then looked at the building, it’s posted sign billing themselves as an elite Modeling agency and school, for, insert gasp here, twenty whole years! “Yeah that ain’t a modeling agency, they’re all whores.”

The man laughed. “Yes, this much is true, and you feel above them?”

“Of course I do!” Katrina snapped, “And I’m above you too get lost.”

“Well I would like to see you unharmed, do you have parents to call, someone to rescue you off this sidewalk, so you do not bleed everywhere?”

“Perv,” Katrina snapped but she looked at her knees and the blood running down them. She realized that at this point, she had nothing. Sighing, she threw her fate to the Gods and looked at the man. “Can you help me? Do you live around here?”

The man pointed up the street, “I live in the lofts, the new ones over there. I can help you fix your knees.”

She held out her hand, she supposed that she could spring it on him tomorrow morning or so that she was completely destitute and needed every last bit of help from him she could get. “Katrina Volanges, I’m visiting from Atlanta, all by myself.”

The man laughed and clasped her fingers, held them warmly, squeezed and let it go, nothing lingering, in fact he didn’t even seem to be checking her out the way guys usually did. “Gregorio Pradera, and I just moved here from Spain, now follow me Miss Katrina.”

“Alright,” Katrina replied, limping behind him. “But I’m gonna tell you right now Mr. Pradera, if you’re a psycho perv and you kill me, I swear to GOD I’m gonna kill you okay?” Pradera laughed and Katrina took one glance over her shoulder at the building. Her business with them was far from done.