The inside of the house looked no better than the outside. They sat on tattered chairs. Baskets of dirty laundry were piled everywhere, but Robie had a notion that before he knocked on the door all the clothes had been strewn on the floor. He also noted papers and the edge of a beer can sticking out from under a chair. He wondered what else was under there. His seat was very hard. He didn’t think it was the cushion.
A small, curvy woman wearing tight jeans and an even tighter blouse came out of the back, wiping her hands on her pants leg. She looked to be at most thirty. She had mousy brown hair, a heavily made up face, and the air of someone who was totally disconnected from reality. She lit up a cigarette and eyed Robie.
“Who’s he?”
“Some dude from Internal Affairs,” growled Dixon.
Robie flipped open his badge. “I’m here to talk about Julie. And smoking around our children is prohibited,” he added.
The woman quickly stubbed the cigarette out on a tabletop. “Sorry,” she said without sounding sorry in the least.
The woman snapped, “She’s gone. Run off. Little shit never appreciated what we gave her.”
“And you are?” asked Robie.
“Patty. Gerry and me are married.”
“How many foster kids do you have currently?”
“Two not counting that shit Julie,” said Patty.
“I would prefer if you wouldn’t refer to one of the children under our responsibility as a shit,” Robie said firmly.
Patty glanced at her husband. “Is he with the foster care people?”
“He told me Internal Affairs,” said Gerald, looking betrayed.
“I’m with the government,” said Robie. “That’s all you two need to know. So where are the other kids?”
Patty adopted a loving matronly tone. “In school,” she said, smiling. “We send those little angels to school every day, just like we’re supposed to.”
Robie heard a sound from upstairs. “You have kids of your own?” he asked, glancing upward.
Gerald and Patty exchanged a nervous glance. He said, “We got two of our own, little ones. Don’t go to school yet. That’s them up there probably reading. They’re real advanced for their ages.”
“Right. Now about Julie.” He opened a notebook he drew from his jacket. Gerald Dixon’s eyes widened as he saw the revealed weapon. “You’re carrying a gun.”
“That’s right,” said Robie.
“I thought this was about foster care,” said Patty.
“This is about what I say it’s about. And if you two want to stay out of serious trouble I suggest you cooperate fully.”
Robie had decided he was done playing nice with these idiots. He didn’t have the time or the desire.
Gerald sat up straighter and Patty sat down next to him.
Robie said, “Tell me about Julie.”
“Is she in trouble?” asked Gerald.
“Tell me about her,” repeated Robie firmly. “Full name, background, how she came to be here. Everything.”
“Don’t you already know that?” asked Patty.
Robie looked at her with a face of granite. “I’m here to confirm the information we already have, Mrs. Dixon. And please keep in mind the request I made for cooperation and then focus on the possible consequences of not cooperating.”
Gerald sharply elbowed his wife and snapped, “Just shut up and let me handle this.” He turned back to Robie. “Her name is Julie Getty. She came here, oh, about three weeks ago.”
“Age?”
“Fourteen.”
“Why was she placed in foster care?”
“Her parents couldn’t take care of her.”
“Yeah, that I get. Why couldn’t they care for her? Were they dead?”
“No, don’t think so. See, the agency people don’t really tell you that much about that stuff. They just give you kids and you take care of them.”
Patty added quickly, “Just like they were our own.”
“Right. Like you said, not counting that shit Julie.”
Patty colored and looked down. “Well, I didn’t mean it exactly like that.”
Gerald added, “Truth is, Julie could be a real piece of work. Speaks her mind too much for my taste.”
“And so she’s not here anymore?”
“Run off in the middle of the night.”
Patty said, “We’ve been so worried.”
“And you of course reported this, right?”
Gerald and Patty looked at each other. He said, “Well, we were hoping she’d come back.”
“So we were waiting for a bit,” added Patty.
“Has she run off before?”
“Not this time, well, except for last night.”
Robie looked up from his notes. “This time? Was she placed with you before?”
“Three times.”
“What happened those times?”
“Don’t know exactly,” said Gerald. “I think her parents got her back. Remember the caseworker telling me Julie’s mom and dad would do that. But then there she’d be back in foster care.”
“When was the last time you saw her?”
“Last night right after I served her a delicious dinner,” said Patty in a syrupy tone that made Robie want to pull his gun and fire a shot just over her head.
“And when did you discover her missing?”
“This morning when she didn’t come down.”
“So you don’t check on your beloved ‘wards’ at night?”
“She was very private,” said Gerald hastily. “We didn’t like to butt in.”
Robie pulled the empty beer can out from under the chair. “I can see that.” He waved his hand in the air. “And you might want to open some windows. Get the reefer smell out.”
“We don’t do drugs,” said Gerald, feigning astonishment.
“And I don’t know whose that is,” added Patty, pointing at the beer can.
“Right,” Robie said dismissively. “Have you heard from Julie since she left?”
They both shook their heads.
“Any reason to believe someone would want to hurt her?”
The Dixons looked genuinely surprised by this question. Gerald said, “Why, has something happened to her?”
“Just answer the question. Anybody come around here you didn’t know? Suspicious cars?”
Gerald said, “No, nothing like that. What the hell has she got herself involved in? Gangs?”
Patty put a hand up to her ample bosom. “Do you think we might be in danger?”
Robie closed his notebook. “I certainly wouldn’t rule out the possibility. Some folks don’t care who they hurt.” He had to fight back a smile.
He rose, lifted up the seat cushion, and pulled out a baggie of coke, some vials containing a brown liquid, two capped syringes, and elastic strips used to pop the blood vessels to the surface for ease of injection.
“And next time try locating your pharmacy somewhere more private.”
They both stared down at the drugs and related paraphernalia but said nothing.
As Robie was walking down the street he saw a woman holding an envelope striding along with two police officers in tow.
“You heading to the Dixons’?” he asked as the woman neared.
“Yes. Who are you?”
