“What?” said Tracy.
“Nothing.”
“You were staring at me.”
“Sorry.”
“I don’t know why I mentioned my father.”
“I don’t either. Let’s get to work, okay?”
Tracy handed Quinn a stack of flyers exactly like the one Strange had given him the night before. “You might need more of these. We’ve got ’em posted around town, but they get ripped down pretty quick.”
Quinn picked up the Paper Mate sitting atop the notepad he had brought along with him. “What else can you tell me about her?”
Tracy pushed another sheet of paper across the table at Quinn. “Jennifer ran away from her home in Germantown several months ago.”
Quinn scanned the page. “This doesn’t say why.”
“She hit her teens and the hormones kicked in. Add to that, the kids she was hanging with were using drugs. It’s the usual story, not so different from most that we hear. From interviews we did with her friends out in the county, it sounds like she started hooking before she split.”
“In the outer suburbs?”
“What, you think that part of the world is immune to it? It starts out, girl will take a ride with an older guy and fellate him so she can buy a night of getting high for her and her friends. Or maybe she lets herself get penetrated, vaginally or even anally, for a little more cash. She doesn’t get beat up or ripped up those first couple of times — she doesn’t
“She’s only fourteen.”
“I’m hip.”
“Okay, so she leaves Germantown. What makes you think she’s in the District?”
“Her friends again. She told them where she was going. But they haven’t heard from her since.”
“You said she was using drugs. What kind?”
“Ecstasy was her favorite, what we heard. But she’d use anything that was put in front of her, if you know what I mean.”
“Anything else?”
“We haven’t done a thing except interview her parents and a few of her friends. Like we told Derek, we’re up to our ears in county business right now. That’s why we were looking to hook up with you guys for the D.C. side of things. My partner wanted to meet you, but she’s out rounding up a girl she found as we speak.”
“Rounding up?”
“Basically, we yank ’em right off the street when we find them. We’ve got this van, no windows—”
“This legal, what you do?”
“As long as they’re minors, yeah. They have no domain over themselves, and if the parents sign a permission form for us to go after them it’s all straight. If there are any repercussions, we deal with it later. We work with some lawyers, pro bono. Basically, we’re out to save these kids.”
“That’s nice. But this work here, Derek didn’t say anything about it being pro bono. And on top of our hourly rate, I’m gonna need expense money.”
“Keep detailed records and you got it.”
“It could get rich.”
“We’re covered by the APIP people.”
“They must have some deep pockets.”
“Grant money.”
“Because I got a feeling I’m going to have to pay some people to talk.”
“Okay. But I’m still going to need those details.”
Tracy’s hand kept going into a large leather bag set on the table. She had been fondling something inside of it, then removing her hand, then putting it back in again.
“What’ve you got in there?”
“My cigarettes.”
“Well, you might as well stop romancing that pack. You can’t light up in here.”
“You can’t light up anywhere,” she said, adding by way of explanation, “It’s the coffee.”
“Gives you that urge, huh?” Quinn reached into a pocket and dropped a pack of sugarless gum between them. “Try this.”
“No, thanks.”
“We’ll be done in a minute, you can step outside.” Quinn tapped his pen on the notepad. “The one thing I’m
