They Called Her Indigo
AMAZON REVIEWS FOR SAM LEE JACKSON’S
JACKSON BLACKHAWK SERIES
Kept my interest enough to read 3 books in a day.
I can’t say enough about the Jackson Blackhawk series! I’m on the third in the series and loving them all. Truly great characters. The ensemble and action remind me of Travis McGee, Elvis Cole…and much more. The characters conversing reminds me of Robert B. Parker. Fast moving with exciting plots that keep the reader engaged. Buy them. Read them You’ll be glad you found this series.
Run—do not walk—to buy this book! (The Girl at the Deep End of the Lake).
I couldn't put this book down!
Wonderfully developed colorful characters without going overboard with super hero powers.
This is a very good read, I like this kind of story and the way it is written makes all the difference to me, this writer has done a great job.
They Called Her Indigo
SAM LEE JACKSON
Copyright © 2018 SAM LEE JACKSON.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
Piping Rock Publications
3608 E Taro Lane. Phoenix AZ 85050
www.samleejackson.com
ISBN: (sc) 978-0-9998526-6-8
ISBN: (e) 978-0-9998526-7-5
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018959212
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
For CJ. My rock, my partner, my muse, my lover,
my companion, my teacher and my all.
Table of Contents
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Excerpt: THE DARKER HOURS
Did you enjoy They Called Her Indigo?
Acknowledgements
Thanks to my talented and painstaking editor, Ann Hedrick. My amazing cover illustrator, Mariah Sinclair, and my website guru Lance Robinson. And of course, my readers who make all things possible.
1
The girl was white blonde, her hair in a short cut that swept across her forehead. She was quite beautiful in a young pixie kind of way. She was very good. She waited until my machine hit, then when she put her hands into my clothes I didn’t feel a thing. But, I knew she did it. The only thing I noticeably felt was the absence of weight of my wallet as she turned to move away. I waited a moment before I glanced at her. I swiveled on my stool and looked the other way at Blackhawk. He was three slot machines down watching, a smile on his face. I shrugged, cashed out of the machine, pulled my card and slid off my stool. He followed suit.
He went the long way around two lines of slot machines, all the while keeping her in sight. I followed more directly, staying well back. She didn’t target any more guys, but wound through the crowd to the back, where a bank of elevators awaited.
We were at one of the Indian tribe casinos that populate the Phoenix area. I never could figure out the law that said Native Americans could own gambling establishments, but other races couldn’t. I’m sure there was some kind of reason, but since I don’t gamble, it wasn’t something I stayed up nights worrying about. Besides, Blackhawk would tell me to mind my own business.
Blackhawk had made a friend that managed this particular casino. The guy had become a regular at El Patron, Blackhawk’s night club, and was a big fan of Blackhawk’s girl Elena with her big salsa band. The guy was always trying to persuade Elena to come perform at his casino, but she was happy where she was. The guy and Blackhawk had been engaged in idle conversation over a cocktail, when he mentioned that the casino slots were being cheated. He couldn’t figure out how. Blackhawk said he would look into it and invited me to tag along. So, here we were, playing quarter slots, with me getting my pocket picked.
The girl was a pro. A very young pro, but a pro. She knew where the cameras were, and she knew too many stops behind unsuspecting men would bring security down on her. I stayed back while Blackhawk followed her onto the elevator. I noted every floor the elevator stopped at. When it came back down, I followed an older couple on. They gave me a harsh look when I pressed all the buttons. They got off at the first stop. Blackhawk was waiting when the doors opened at the fourth floor.
“End of the hall,” he said. Without waiting, he turned and started down the hall. I followed. I could have grabbed the girl as soon as she took the wallet, but this is how Blackhawk and I have our fun.
He reached the door, and moved to the side, his back against the wall, just out of sight of the peep hole. I knocked. After a moment the light in the peep hole darkened. Someone was looking at me. I put on a nice smile and knocked again.
Whoever was looking at me, hesitated, then I heard voices. I couldn’t make out the words, but the tone was inquisitive. The door slowly opened. It wasn’t the blondie, but another young girl of about the same age. She had brown hair, and a fading bruise on her cheek bone.
“Yes?” she said.
“Hi there,” I said brightly. “I’m told this is lost and found and I’m here to pick up my wallet.”
She started to shut the door but I had my foot in it. I shoved it open, which shoved her back. I stepped into the room. Blackhawk stepped in behind me. The blondie was sitting in a chair, where she had been looking through my wallet, but it was the woman on the couch that had both my and Blackhawk’s attention.
The woman was tall and slender, wearing tight jeans, and an embroidered blouse. She sat casually, her legs crossed with a tooled boot on each foot. Her hair was blonde, but not as white blonde as blondie. Fashionable streaks highlighted her hair in an expensive looking way. She held a throw pillow on her lap. Her left arm lounged across the top of the couch, the right hand under the pillow.
She began to laugh. “Well, look what the cat dragged in,” she said.
“They called her Indigo,” Blackhawk said in his best, deep, movie trailer voice.
“Let me guess,” I said. “9mm Beretta?”
She laughed again, taking her right hand from under the pillow. In it was a 9mm Beretta. “Good memory.”
Blondie was looking from us to her. “You guys kno
w each other?”
“Long, long ago, in a land far, far away,” I said.
“You still go by Indigo?” Blackhawk said.
She placed the pistol on the lamp table beside her. “I told these girls my name is Jane.”
“Jane isn’t your real name?” the brown-haired girl said.
“Neither is Indigo,” Indigo said.
This was when I realized that Blackhawk and I knew this woman better than the two girls she was sharing the suite with.
She stood and put the pistol in the small of her back. She moved to a desk that had been set up as a bar.
“What are you boys drinking?” she said. She looked at me, “I don’t have Boodles, just Tanqueray,” she said.
“Good memory,” I said.
“Tanqueray and tonic,” Blackhawk said.
“Make it two,” I said.
“Make it three,” the blondie said.
“Make it four,” the other girl said.
“You girls old enough to drink?” I said.
“Fuck you, Jack,” the blondie said.
“Not Jack. Jackson,” Indigo said as she fixed the drinks. “His name is Jackson. The tall, dark, handsome one is Blackhawk.”
The brown-haired girl snorted. “Blackhawk?”
“His real name is Fred,” I said. “Fred Littlewanger.”
Indigo handed us all a drink. “You two still on the comedy circuit?” She looked at the girls. “There isn’t any little wanger to it. Take my word for it.”
My eyebrows went up. “Oh, really?”
“We shared a community shower a long time ago,” Blackhawk said. He raised his glass to the two girls. “Blackhawk will do. At your service.”
“So, what are you now?” I asked Indigo. “Let me guess, you are Fagan and this is your merry band of Artful Dodgers.”
“First of all,” she indicated blondie with her glass, “this is Simone, and this,” she indicated the other girl, “is Nikki. I’m just trying to help them out of a little jam.”
“So, you just happen to be here?”
“Believe it or not.”
“What kind of jam?” I asked.
Blondie Simone took a drink and looking at it made a face. “We have a bunch of people that are looking for us.”
“They’re going to kill us for sure,” Nikki said. She looked frightened. If it wasn’t real, she was a hell of an actress.
“A bunch?” I said, looking at Indigo. “What constitutes a bunch?”
“By definition, more than twelve,” Blackhawk said.
“A bunch,” Indigo said. She wasn’t joking.
2
“So, did you send Miss Simone down to pick my pocket, or is this just some improbable coincidence?”
By now we were seated.
“Coincidence,” Indigo said. “Like I said, believe it or not. After the unit broke up, I had no idea where anyone went. I’d heard they’d sent you to Germany to fix your foot.” She looked at my foot, grinning. “So, how is the foot?”
“Gone,” I said.
She looked at Blackhawk, smiling. “However, somehow I’m not surprised you two are together.”
“How did you know I’d lifted your wallet?” Simone said. “I never had anyone catch me before.”
Indigo laughed, “Honey, you have never met anyone like these two.”
“I’m very sensitive to anyone in my personal space, even in a crowded place,” I said. “I was aware of you as soon as you got close.”
“He’s a very sensitive guy,” Blackhawk said.
“How do you know these guys?” Nikki asked Indigo.
“It’s a long story,” Indigo said. “But this guy,” she indicated me, “carried me two miles on his back just to be able to get a shot at a guy that was carrying a bazooka.”
I looked at the girls. “She’s pulling your leg; it wasn’t a bazooka, it was a surface to air weapon. And I made the shot,” I said, turning to look at Blackhawk.
“Yes, you did,” Indigo said.
“How far would you say the target was from me?”
Indigo finished her drink. “I don’t know. Maybe two hundred yards or more.”
“See!” I said to Blackhawk. He just smiled.
“Why did you shoot him? The guy with the surface air thingy?” Nikki said.
“As long as that guy was there with his thingy, our helicopter couldn’t come get us,” Indigo said. “They had us trapped.”
“Helicopter?” Simone said.
“It was a long time ago,” I said. I looked at Indigo. “What’s the story here?” I said, changing the subject.
She shrugged. “I was driving out of Vegas heading east on I-10. I’d been driving a long time, so I pulled off the freeway to make a pit stop. Pick up some fruit and stuff to eat. I was sitting at a stoplight, minding my own business, munching on an apple. Nikki and Simone – I didn’t know their names then – were standing at the corner with this big Mexican dude. They were all yelling at each other, when suddenly the dude smacks Nikki and knocks her down.”
Nikki’s hand went to her bruised cheek.
“No way to treat a lady,” Blackhawk said.
“What I was thinking,” Indigo said.
“So you decided to get involved,” I said, shaking my head. “You were taught better than that.”
Indigo shrugged. “I’m out,” she said. “There are no rules anymore.”
“So, what did you do?” Blackhawk said.
Simone laughed. “We couldn’t believe it. She gets out of her car and comes up to Mickey…”
“Mickey your pimp?”
“Our handler,” Nikki said.
“Your handler,” I repeated. “Then what?”
Simone laughed again. “She asks Mickey if he wants an apple. He looks at her like she’s nuts. Mickey calls her a bitch. Then Jane tossed him her apple and, like, just reflexes he starts to catch it and she smacks him up side his head with the butt of her gun.”
I looked at Indigo. She was studying her nails.
“Knocked him straight down,” Nikki laughed. “I mean, it was funny as hell, but we both knew there would be hell to pay.”
“So, Jane says, ‘get in’ and we got in, and she drove us away. When I looked back the bastard was still sitting on the ground, holding his head.”
Nikki looked at Indigo, “She told us her name was Jane. She said she’d drop us wherever we wanted to go, but we had no place to go.”
I looked at Indigo. “So, you came here?”
“Hide in plain sight. Best place to hide. Especially, after they told me it wasn’t just Mickey. There was a bunch.”
“More than twelve?” Blackhawk said.
“Hell, yes,” Simone said. “They have people all over the Southwest.”
I looked around the room. “Nice place to hide.”
Indigo shrugged, “Can’t pay for it. I’ve had a bad run of luck lately,” she said. “Used a fake credit card. Figured we’d lay low then sneak out. Simone said she could pick up some walking money.” She shrugged. “Okay with me.”
“I still can’t believe you knew you’d been lifted,” Simone said.
“Who has people all over the Southwest?” Blackhawk said.
They were silent.
“They say it’s a sex ring,” Indigo finally said. “According to the girls, they have a lot of muscle.”
“How long you girls been with Mickey?” Blackhawk said.
“Just a couple of weeks,” Simone said. “We were both reassigned. Me from Tucson, Nikki from Vegas.”
“Reassigned? Sounds like you work for Microsoft or something.”
“That’s how they ran it. It was a business. I worked at Vegas for six months,” Nikki said. “Then they sent me here.”
“Who’s they? Who runs the business?”
She shrugged and looked at Simone. Simone shrugged. “All I know is that it is a big outfit. Got places in L.A., San Francisco, San Diego, all over. Tucson, Phoenix, even Vegas and Reno. Around here a g
uy named Luis runs it.”
“All West Coast?” I asked.
“Never heard anyone talk about any place east of Phoenix except Albuquerque. Each place is a pretty sweet gig. Fancy apartments, share it with four or five girls. All kinds of girls. White girls, Hispanic girls, Black girls, small town girls, a lot of them from Europe.”
“Eastern European,” Nikki said. “I knew a couple of girls from Georgia. Like the country. They had boys too, but they kept them separate. Big cars, designer clothes. Big parties with lots of coke and booze.”
“At first,” Nikki said.
“Yeah, at first. That’s how they sucked you in. Compared to where I come from, and what I come from, it was pretty sweet.”
“Julie,” Nikki said.
“Yeah, Julie,” Simone said. “At first you are with Julie. She’s your best friend, takes you to parties and shit. Then she introduces you to men she wants you to be nice to. It wasn’t so bad. Most of the men were business types, you know, respectable looking. Actually were clean. She made sure we were checked. You know for STDs and shit.”
“What if you didn’t want to be nice to the men?”
Simone barked a short, caustic laugh. “That was no option. They’d beat the shit out of you. Or if you became trouble you disappeared. Probably out into the desert in a gully somewhere. You learned real fast that it was better to do what they wanted.”
“Like Erin,” Nikki said.
“Yeah, like Erin.”
“Who’s Erin?” Indigo asked.
“Girl that disappeared,” Nikki said.
Simone picked her purse up and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.
“I told you, no smoking,” Indigo said. “All we need is for a bellhop to walk by and smell it and turn us in to the front desk and there we go, down the rabbit hole.”
Simone stuffed her cigarettes back into her purse.
“They had all these places, but only one Julie?” I asked.