The Vow of Chastity Baker

By Cherie White

Chastity Baker is a teenaged prostitute and meth junkie living on the streets of Memphis. After being arrested and hitting rock-bottom, she makes herself a solemn vow, that she would leave prostitution and drugs behind and live a better life. Making good on her vow, Chas takes the necessary steps to improve her life, only she cannot seem to outrun her past. Her past mistakes follow her in the forms of a sadistic and vindictive ex-pimp and drug-supplier, who now wants her dead, various people who know her from her darker days and cruelly pass judgement on her, circumstances that arise and present themselves as roadblocks to her progress and her arresting officer, who now wants to protect her and eventually falls in love with her. Chas keeps her eyes on her goals and continues with focused determination. Will she reach success or will she let adversity, haters, and her own insecurity and negative feelings about her past bring more failure? The message Chas receives from others, doesn’t always ring true.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu Publishing Services
• Release date: Jan 6, 2019
• ISBN: 9781483495323

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WHITE

Copyright © 2019 Cherie White.

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 the 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.

ISBN: 978-1-4834-9531-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4834-9532-3 (e)

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.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 12/20/2018

Your past cannot be changed. Your future is yet in your power.

~ Unknown ~

1

Busted

O n the south side of Memphis, seventeen-year-old Chastity Diane Baker placed a protective hand over the fanny pack under her blouse, guarding it… cradling it as an expectant mother would cradle her growing baby bump. From a distance, the bulging fanny pack made her look to be about four months pregnant to any observer from afar. The young girl’s eyes constantly roved back and forth as she walked, studying her surroundings very carefully for any stranger who might wish to rob or to harm her. Knowing she was even more vulnerable being a half Native American and half Caucasian female walking down the mean streets of Memphis at night, she continued her mile-long trek down Danny Thomas Boulevard. Although she kept a switchblade taped to the side of her left thigh under the garter of her black thigh-high stockings, it would be no match to any armed gunman. Like bringing a knife to a gunfight! She thought. She prayed silently as she walked, just as she had done many times before.

She suddenly stumbled after unexpectedly stepping into a hole in the sidewalk which was filled with muddy water from the last downpour.

Dammit! Chas loudly whispered out of frustration, stopping long enough to examine her dripping high heel shoe and hose, which was doused halfway up the metatarsals of her foot.

She then continued before looking down a dark alley she happened to be passing to her right and catching sight of a group of four young punks in the distance. Noticing that the youthful knuckleheads were surrounding some poor sap on the ground and taking turns kicking and stomping him while shouting a barrage of obscenities, she scurried faster, hoping like the devil one of the assailants would not look up and see her. Once she came to another rundown building, possibly an old supermarket which had closed long ago, she slowed, returning to a normal pace and closed her slightly oversized black jacket before folding her arms tightly around her tiny torso, shielding herself from the chilly night air and making the bulge from the fanny pack underneath her clothes less obvious to anyone nearby.

About fifteen minutes later and several blocks away, undercover detective Charles Riddick, of the Memphis Police Department’s Narcotics Division, was on his way back to the precinct from his favorite deli. It was close to eleven o’clock and the night seemed quiet, maybe too quiet. The only sound he heard was his tires splashing through an occasional puddle left from the last rain. His first thought was to feel a little suspicious but instead welcomed the peace and tranquility of the drive back to work, which was a rarity at that time of night on the streets of Memphis, Tennessee.

Driving down Danny Thomas Boulevard and stopping at a traffic light while devouring his ham cheddar melt, complete with grilled onions, he cracked his window and savored the lingering smell of the last rain and relaxed against the driver’s seat. Flashes of lightning lit up the sky off to the east and stars began to peak through the breaks in the clouds, revealing a clearing night sky overhead as recent storms slowly moved out of the area. Charles had always loved the smell of rain. With sandwich in one hand and the other on the steering wheel, he placed his lunch on a napkin in his lap before pressing the automatic window button and letting his driver’s side window the rest of the way down to enjoy some fresh springtime breeze. May was the perfect month to do some night driving with the window down and the cool night air circulating the inside of the car. He then began to imagine how nice it would be to go home at a decent hour and sit in his easy chair in front of the television, beer in hand and watch a good game. Yeah! Now that was living!

But most days, that wasn’t possible in his profession. Criminals did not keep schedules. For once, he had a few minutes to relax and enjoy the peace and quiet, while savoring the succulent taste of the ham, cheddar cheese, onions, mayonnaise, and toasted bread and feeling the fresh air which circulated the inside of his unmarked squad car. Just then, the peace and quiet came to an end when his dispatch radio crackled to life.

Attention, all units! Report of a possible narcotics deal at the Forty Winks Motel, two-zero-five-five Chelsea, room two-twelve! Proceed with caution!

’Should’ve known that wouldn’t last long. Charles mumbled to himself with a mouth full as he returned half-eaten sandwich to his lap and grabbed the mic to the dispatch radio. He gulped the last bite before speaking.

This is Detective Riddick responding to possible narcotics deal. ETA is approximately eight minutes. He answered. Send backup. And with that, he placed his blue light on his dashboard and gently pressed his foot down on the gas pedal.

When he arrived at the motel, there were already five unmarked cars parked nearby but hidden. There were eight plain-clothes officers on the scene. Just another typical quaint, fleabag motel, Forty Winks sat a good distance from the street, with outdated neon signs flashing, OPEN and PLENTY OF VACANCIES.

Charles went inside the office and met with the owner of the motel, who was already talking to two uniformed officers and another, wearing civilian clothes.

The plain-clothesed officer, a tall African American man clad in a black tee, faded jeans, black leather jacket, matching hat and gold chain to add street-affect, approached Charles.

We’ve got a possible dope deal taking place in one of the rooms here. I’ve been tailing one of these fools for a while now and more just joined them…a woman, a young girl and another dude. The girl looked like she had something on her…something she was trying her best to keep hidden under her clothes and she was looking around real nervous like…real guarded! He told him.

Gotcha! Charles responded before slapping him on his back in approval. Awesome, Jarvis! Room two-twelve, right?

That’s the one! Jarvis confirmed.

The owner, who looked to be of Middle Eastern descent, was not pleased.

I’m sick of these animals thinking they can come here and sell their drugs! This is bad for my business and drives all my good customers away! Why would people want to get a room here with drug deals happening next door? He complained in his thick, middle-eastern accent.

Not trying to be insensitive to your situation, sir. Charles told him, But maybe you should think about relocating to a better side of town. This particular area is really not the best place to run a motel business…just saying.

After a short conversation with the owner, the officers left the office and joined more outside before they all got into position. Three officers each covered all possible exits while Charles, Jarvis, Detective Earl Stevens and four more officers drew their guns and quietly crept around the building and up the stairs, then stood outside room two-twelve, with two on each side of the door.

Charles kicked the door open and stormed the room, followed by Jarvis, Earl and the other three of his fellow officers. Freeze! Get on the floor! Everybody down on the floor! They screamed as the door flung open and they rushed inside.

Two of the occupants quickly dove to the floor and the other two, completely stunned by the abrupt entrance and shouting of the officers, just stood with looks of shock and horror and raised both hands in the air. Two of the officers who were with Charles and Jarvis each grabbed one standing occupant by the shirt and forced them to the ground before another eight to ten uniformed officers came pouring inside the motel room.

Hey! What the hell, you’re hurting me, man! One of the suspects, a young, skinny African American kid, cried as Jarvis forced him to the ground in a prone position, forcing his arm behind his back and putting a knee into the small of his back.

Shut up, punk! Stay ‘yo skinny butt on the ground! Jarvis shouted as he took out handcuffs and bound the youth’s hands behind his back. He then pulled him to his feet. Get up!

Charles took a good look around the room and couldn’t help but shudder. It was enough to make his stomach turn. He wondered how anybody could spend one night there. Charles, Earl and Jarvis looked at each other.

Judging from the look of this place, I’d say the dealing here isn’t the only thing that’s keeping the customers away. I wouldn’t spend one night in this dump. Charles commented.

Amen! Jarvis agreed.

The place was downright disgusting and the inside looked worse than the outside. The walls, which were once white, were now a funky orange-brown color from years of nicotine, left by thousands of past guests whom were smokers. From the look of the bed, night stand and lamp, television set, and one couch, one would have sworn that all the furniture and electronics had rolled off the assembly line during the Carter Administration. The butt-ugly carpet looked as if it had been picked out by someone who was colorblind, being a gaudy lime green color with several tears, stains, and little black holes from cigarette burns. Colonies of roaches scattered to the nearest crack or crevice.

The suspects, one Caucasian male, one African American male, both of whom were small-time drug dealers and two Caucasian female prostitutes; one in her late twenties and the other no more than late teens were restrained on their bellies and spread eagle on the filthy motel room floor. They were quickly frisked and handcuffed before being pulled to their feet.

Earl nudged Charles and made a head gesture for him to step to the side. The two walked over to a corner of the room.

I know who both the guys are, they’re small-time drug dealers. Stevens started. I also recognize the older of the two females, she’s a junkie prostitute and I’ll bet the younger one is too from the look of it. I’m sure they’ve been run in a few times but I don’t recognize the girl, Charlie. She looks no more than a baby!"

Most of them are, Earl. Charlie said ruefully, shaking his head.

Well, I’m mostly concerned with the dealers. Let’s separate them so we can question them one at a time.

Suddenly, the owner appeared in the doorway.

Those are the jerks! The owner chided, This isn’t the first time these morons have made a deal on my property!

Charles and Earl turned and looked at the manager. Get out of here, Mister! Charles said.

I’m fed up with this trash using my property as a supermarket for dope! the manager said angrily, Ever since these hoods started coming around, my business has gone down. No decent person will set foot here if that trash keeps coming here! And I can’t say that I blame them! Would you spend your nights in a motel where there are drug deals going on every night? I hate drugs! The manager went on.

You and everybody else! Now go! Jarvis ordered him.

The owner started out the door.

The suspects were all separated before two officers took the drug dealers and placed each of them in a grey unmarked car. Earl took the cuffed older prostitute and sat her on the curb before leaving her with two of his colleagues. Charles placed the underage female prostitute in the backseat of his black unmarked car and shut the door. Then, he and Earl searched the girl’s funny pack and pulled out two huge bags of crystal meth and a wad of cash. Well, well! What do we have here?

Another officer approached Charles and Earl.

"I just searched one of the suspects and found a huge wad of cash on him. ‘Looks to be about eight thousand dollars- all one hundred dollar bills. And the woman sitting on the curb had a bag of crystal meth in her purse. The girl had a bag of meth in her fanny pack also and about three hundred dollars in small bills. It appears that this was a deal disguised as some kind of sex free-for-all. A motel, two guys, two girls-prostitutes, go figure."

Yeah. ’Nothing we haven’t already figured out. Thanks. Charlie told him before he and Earl got in the car to question the girl. They shut the doors and looked back at the teenager.

What is your name, young lady? Charles asked.

Cleopatra. Who are you? scoffed the young girl.

Detective Riddick with the Memphis Police Department- your worst nightmare if you decide to be stupid and do this the hard way! Charles said raising his voice.

Oooh! I’m shaking in my boots! The girl said sarcastically.

Earl turned around and glared at the pretty girl in the backseat. I don’t think you realize the seriousness of your situation, little lady! Now I would suggest that you lose the attitude and start cooperating and we might be able to help you out! If not, then we can make things really difficult for you! So, do you want to do this the easy way or the hard way?! He said sternly.

Okay, fine. The girl said in a quieter voice.

"That’s better. Now let’s try this again, shall we? What is your name?" Charles said.

Chas Baker the young hooker answered.

Good. That’s a start. Now how old are you?

Seventeen.

So, you’re a minor. Do you have any family?

A brother, Ricky.

Where’s he staying? Earl asked.

Juvenile Hall.

Great! The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree!

Screw you! Chas shot back.

Not if you were the last female on earth, sweetheart! Now, who is your legal guardian? Earl bit.

My guardian angel. Chas spat.

Earl looked at Charles.

Tell ya what, Charlie. Let’s take Miss Smart Mouth down to 201 Poplar and put her in a nice cozy cell where the big girls are. Maybe that’ll adjust her attitude a little. He said.

Easy, Earl. She’s just a kid. Charlie said calmly.

I am NOT! Chas retorted.

Shut up! Earl ordered, raising his voice.

Well, you do realize that you may or may not be joining your brother in juvenile hall. You’re old enough that you can be charged as an adult. In other words, you won’t have to wait until your eighteenth birthday to be transferred to the women’s pen. I’ll make a deal with you, little lady. You cooperate fully with us and we might be able to cop a deal and get you a slap on the wrist. We’ve got you for possession with intent to sell and solicitation. If you’re a good little girl, we could get the charge reduced to simple possession. And since this is your first offense, the judge might just sentence you to a measly community service. So, what do you say? Are you going to cooperate or are you going to keep getting fresh-mouthed and shoot yourself in the foot? Charlie lectured.

Chas swallowed hard. Okay, I’ll talk. she finally said.

Who is your supplier? And who were you buying the drugs for? Charles asked.

I don’t know what his real name is but they call him ‘Memphis Joe’. He’s also my manager. It’s his dope but I bought a huge bag for myself so it would last a while-

Whoa, whoa, whoa! I don’t believe that for a second, Miss Baker! You need to come clean now! Charlie snapped, cutting her off.

Okay, some of the girls sell the dope for him. He has us distribute the stuff too. The little peeps like us are the ones putting in all the work for him. We sell it to the local junkies and small-time street slingers. We go to dance clubs, frat parties and other target-rich environments. The girl continued.

"What other kind of work are you putting in for him?" Earl asked.

Well, you know… Chas answered in a soft voice as she licked her lips and ran the tips of her freshly done and polished fingertips down the middle of her chest to her abdomen.

"Ah, pssssh!" Earl sighed, with Charles shaking his head in a mixture of dismay and pity.

Anyway, they say he used to sell some himself before he got real big in the game. Now he’s a hot item so he doesn’t get out much anymore. I guess he thinks that as long as he stays in, there’s no chance of getting bagged by the cops. Chas explained.

Earl, being a young rookie detective and only eight months in with Narcotics, looked at Charles. Memphis Joe. I’ve heard of him. He repeated as he gave Charles a serious look. Charles sighed before turning to look at Chas through the bulletproof glass divide.

Sit tight for a moment.

And the two detectives exited the car and walked around to the rear bumper, leaving Chas sitting handcuffed in the backseat alone.

"I don’t even have to think about it. We’ve been trying to catch this creep for years. He’s a real contributor to society… big time drug dealer, pimp…he’s known all over the South. He has contacts in Montgomery, New Orleans, and Atlanta…all the major cities in the Southeast. Problem is, he’s like a damned ol’ Houdini. We never can seem to catch this guy, we can’t even get anything on him. Nobody is willing to roll on him. That’s why anything this girl can tell us could be just what we need to nail his butt." He explained.

Yeah, I’ve read files on this guy! Charlie, this guy is brutal and now I’m worried about this girl! Earl said in a tone laced with fear.

We still have to get her to talk, Earl. There’s no way around that. Charlie concluded before Earl pursed his lips in dread and blew out a puff of air. They both got back into the vehicle and looked back at Chas.

Here’s the deal. If you tell us what we want to know, we won’t charge you with any of the drug charges we mentioned earlier. We’ll only charge you with prostitution and that’s a hell of a lot lesser charge than illegal possession of controlled substances with intent to sell or just simple possession. So, you’ll be looking at little time behind bars, if any at all. Charles explained.

After they interrogated her in the car, the police took Chas to the precinct, where she was placed in the interrogation room. Chas was photographed, fingerprinted, booked, searched, then placed in an interrogation room. All suspects in the bust were placed in different areas.

As she sat in the privacy of the well-lit room, her thoughts drifted. Here was a young woman who was sick and tired of living the sordid and rock bottom life she had been living since she was fifteen. Chas thought back to the previous year and remembered how she had had dreams of breaking free from the rut that was her life at the first chance. If ever that opportunity presented itself, she would take it, no matter the cost.

Although she was allowed one phone call, who was she going to call? Memphis Joe? She decided that the best thing to do was to forfeit any phone calls and hope to the goodness that word of her arrest did not get back to Joe. But who was she trying to fool? Herself? Memphis Joe had ears everywhere and she knew that chances were that he would get wind of her arrest. Memphis Joe had the patience of Satan and did not take kindly to mistakes, accidental or not.

Charlie sat at his computer, pulled up the database and typed Memphis Joe in the search bar. Sure enough, a mug shot of a very young Memphis Joe along with his information and history appeared on the screen. Charlie hit print and printed several hard copies of Joe’s record to pass around to fellow officers. After sitting back down, he looked at the mug shot very carefully.

Memphis Joe was a handsome Caucasian man with eyes as blue as sapphires. His skin was a copper tan and he had dark hair with blonde highlights. In the picture, he was decked in a twelve-hundred-dollar, three-piece suit. His Christian name was Joseph Lee Higgins and he was in his late thirties. He was documented in the files as half Hispanic and half Caucasian with Hispanic on his mother’s side and Caucasian on his father’s. He had been arrested several times when he was young for simple possession and simple assault. Unfortunately, the police had been unable to pin any serious charges on him due to lack of evidence and witnesses who were too scared to talk. The last time he had seen a jail cell was over ten years before. Word on the street was that Memphis Joe had moved up in the underworld, leaving a trail of dead, mutilated bodies in his wake. Anyone who knew him knew that he was an extremely brutal man when crossed. Therefore, it was no wonder that any potential witnesses would clam up when the police came nosing around and asking questions.

Charles left the room, walked down the hall, and knocked on the door to his superior’s office. Come in. said a muffled baritone voice. He came in and shut the door.

The office walls were decorated with awards and credits for bravery in the line of duty. On the desk sat a picture of a beautiful middle-aged woman surrounded by three teenaged boys, all were wearing smiles. Lieutenant Dean Jenkins set the file he had been reading on his desk and leaned back in his chair.

Sir, I have a suspect- a young girl, who is willing to cut a deal. She gave us information that will be a big help in our pursuit of Memphis Joe Higgins.

Okay. Go ahead and question her. advised the lieutenant.

Charles nodded before leaving.

When he came back into the interrogation room, he pulled a folding chair out and sat across the table from the young girl who had been escorted in by a female officer. Lieutenant Jenkins, Earl and two female detectives stood outside the interrogation room, watching and listening to everything via outside monitor.

Chas pulled out a cigarette, lit up and took a drag, before exhaling a huge puff of smoke. Next, she shifted in her seat and crossed her legs before sitting back in her chair. Chas then folded her left arm across the front of her torso and propped the opposite elbow on top of it. Smoke trailed upward from the burning red tip of the cigarette between the blood-red-tipped fingers of her right hand.

‘Awful young to be smoking, don’t you think? Charlie remarked.

Am I? The girl bit sarcastically before returning the cigarette