Billy Westinghouse uses strong-arm tactics to force Erica into a confession about the sex trade organization.
Billy accepted the drink and what he was sure was the best seat in the house; a yellow, leather recliner complete with duck-tape repairs. As his host changed into something more comfortable he tried to view this scenario through Curt's eyes.
“Here we are,” came the drug induced pitch of a lace clad. drag queen. “Can I freshen your drink?”
Billy's eyes followed his fluttering host all over the room until she perched on the adjacent sofa. “No thank you. I've barely touched this one.”
“Perhaps there's something else you're thirsting for?” Erica said in a no non-sense tone.
“You are very perceptive, Billy smiled.”
With out another word, Erica rose from her perch as graceful as any six and a half foot drag queen could, and dropped to her knees between Billy's legs. As the Crimson nails crept up his trousers for the unleashing of his junk, he grabbed her ponytail, snatching her face into an upturned position! One punch was enough to send blood splatter in every direction and render her a helpless mess! The weight of her shocked body slumped over, on the worn, beige carpet with a loud thud! First there was gasping, and then a baritone voice offering Billy money and jewels hidden behind the toilet tank.
“ I don’t want your money, Son.”
This seemed to frighten Erica even more. “Then what do you want?”
“Names, dates, locations.”
Erica’s eyes widened. “Of what?! I don't understand!”
Billy looked around and then ripped an edge from the lace table cloth, throwing it at, what he considered a quivering mass of wasted masculinity. “Clean your face and we can talk as men.”
Erica grasped the cloth like a defeated child, pressing it to her bleeding nostrils. “Please just tell me what you want! I'll give it to you!”
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door and Erica began yelling out- “Help! Someone help me please!” It baffled her terrified mind, further when Billy strolled to the door and unlocked it.
In walked Lil Curt Castillo to whom he silently pleaded with confused eyes… “Curt, I don't know what's happening, but please tell this young man that I wouldn't hurt a fly! I have loved you since you were boy!”
The next man to enter caused Erica’s breath to catch, and a stream of his own urine to saturate the area of carpet on which he sat. Finding breath, he managed to sob-“Oh my God, Senator Taylor please don't kill me! You all made me set the fire! I did what you told me! But as you can see, Curtis lived…
When I wrote ths book in 2000, I was concerned about children having access to the Internet and to chat rooms where "you can be anyone you want." Here we are many years later and the situation with children talking freely to stangers on the Internet
