Amber went in and sat on the cot. There was a sink and a toilet.
“I’ll leave the door open,” Molly said, “and close the curtain. You need anything, come see me.”
Amber nodded. Molly went back to the front desk.
“She jumps pretty quick when you speak,” Molly said.
“She knows I mean it,” Crow said.
Molly nodded. Crow was wearing a faded tan safari shirt with short sleeves. Molly was fascinated with the play of intricate muscles in his arms.
“So what do you think we’re going to do with her?” Molly said.
“Her mother’s dead,” Crow said. “She doesn’t want to go back to her father. She’s on the run from her boyfriend.”
“So you don’t want to look out for her?”
“That’s what I’m doing now,” Crow said.
“We can’t keep her here until she’s like twenty-one,” Molly said. “I mean, she can’t live in the jail.”
“Maybe we can figure something out,” he said.
Molly nodded. They were quiet. Crow seemed comfortable with quiet. He’s all angles and planes, Molly thought, like some kind of really good machine, where everything works perfectly. His eyes were black and seemed to penetrate everything. Molly felt as if he could see through her clothes. It was almost embarrassing.
“Why do you care?” Molly said to Crow.
“I feel like it,” Crow said.
“You care because you feel like caring?”
“Yes.”
“What if you didn’t feel like it?”
“Then I wouldn’t,” Crow said.
He smiled at her.
“I know who you are,” Molly said. “And I know what you do. Actually, you probably do worse than what I know.”
“Much,” Crow said.
“But there seems to be this streak of—What? Chivalry?—running through it.”
“Maybe,” Crow said.
“You like women.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Crow’s eyes held on her. She felt herself blushing. Crow smiled.
“Besides that,” Molly said.
“That’s plenty,” Crow said.
“But is that all?” Molly said.
“Trying to figure me out is a
