“Could work,” he said, “if you’re quick.”
“Who’s quicker than me and Moll?” Suit said.
“Could make him move to days,” Jesse said. “And escalate quicker.”
“You got a better idea?” Molly said.
“I don’t have one as good,” Jesse said.
46
STEVE FRIEDMAN called Jesse from the front desk.
“Got a kid here wants to see you,” he said.
“Kid have a name?”
“She won’t tell me,” Steve said.
“Bring her in.”
In a moment Steve appeared in the doorway with Missy Clark.
“I’ll see her alone,” Jesse said.
Steve shrugged and went back to the desk. Missy came in.
“Close the door if you wish,” Jesse said.
She did. Then she came and sat where she’d sat before. Today she was wearing a short denim skirt, a cropped pink tank top, and flip-flops. Her toenails were painted black, and there was a gold ring in her navel.
“Want coffee?” Jesse said.
“Yes, please.”
Jesse poured her some.
“Milk and sugar?” he said.
“Yes, please, two sugars.”
He added the milk and sugar and gave her the cup. She sipped a little.
“Hot,” she said.
“Often is,” Jesse said.
He poured himself some and sat back down behind his desk. She looked at the picture of Jenn for a moment. Then at Jesse.
“My parents are fighting awful,” she said.
Jesse nodded.
“You talked to my mom about swinging.”
“I did,” Jesse said.
“Did you tell her about me?”
“No.”
She continued to look at him.
“That’s what they’re fighting about,” Missy said.
Jesse waited.
“Me and Eric can hear them,” Missy said. “He comes in my room sometimes. It scares him. He wets the bed sometimes.”
“Are they fighting about swinging or fighting about her talking to me?” Jesse said.
“She wants to stop. She says that you know, and that scares her. She says if you know, pretty soon everybody will know. He says it’s not illegal and if she’d learn to keep her stupid mouth shut, nobody would know anything. She says she doesn’t like doing it anyway. And he says that if she won’t do it, he’ll find somebody who will.”
Jesse was quiet for a moment.
Then he said, “Well, doesn’t that suck.”
She had on too much inexpert makeup, which looked especially garish, Jesse thought, on a thirteen-year-old kid. Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t quite cry.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said.
“Can you talk to either of them?” Jesse said.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Everybody’s afraid of my father,” Missy said.
“Your mother, too?” Jesse said.
“Yes.”
“Does he ever hit you?”
