about her life, and for another twenty, she’d throw in a blow job. She’d been pretty once, a runner-up in the Miss Teen New Mexico pageant when she was sixteen, but looking at her in this place, her hair greasy and sticking to her pimply forehead, it was hard to believe.
Ethan had talked to Marie every week for the last four weeks and she’d agreed to be one of his long-term case studies. He was planning to follow her progress-or lack thereof-over the next year as he finished his master’s thesis. Assuming she stuck around St. Mary’s long enough. You never knew where these people would be from one week to the next.
Marie’s eyes finally shifted toward Ethan and he locked his gaze on hers. It was hard for her to stay focused for more than a few seconds. The meth made her twitchy. Ethan jerked his head in the direction of the shelter’s side door. She sighed, but made no move to get up. Finally she nodded.
Glancing at Abby, Ethan asked another volunteer to man his green bean station. His girlfriend was engrossed in conversation with the head coordinator, but she favored Ethan with a smile as he passed. Abby knew all about his interviews with Marie, and it didn’t matter to her that he was here for reasons unrelated to any sense of humanitarianism.
Ethan smirked inwardly. Humanitarianism. Please. He didn’t give a rat’s ass what happened to anyone at this shithole beyond the scope of his thesis. But he admired Abby’s enthusiasm-it set her apart from Sheila. He couldn’t imagine his professor ever showing up and getting her pretty little hands dirty. Especially now that she had a massive fucking diamond hanging off it.
Marie. Focus on Marie. The homeless woman was inside his circle of control. Sheila, at least for the time being, was not. There was plenty of time to deal with his former lover later.
He watched as Marie exited the room through the back door. Really, who would notice if Marie disappeared off the face of the earth? She had no permanent home, no job, no skills. Both her parents were dead and her brother in Albuquerque wanted nothing to do with her. If she went missing, if she was kidnapped and murdered and cut up into little pieces and buried in a place where nobody would ever find her, who would care?
Nobody.
The thought excited him.
He found her standing several feet into the alleyway between St. Mary’s and the army surplus store next door, which was closed for the night. The air was warm but Marie looked cold. A fresh cigarette dangled between stained fingers, and one skinny arm was wrapped around her body for warmth. The light was dim and kind to her. She almost passed for pretty.
“What now?” Marie’s voice was flat. “I told you everything last week.”
“That’s the point, Marie,” Ethan said patiently. He glanced up and down the alleyway. They were alone. “We’re supposed to talk every week, remember? That’s the deal.”
“Fuck that.”
“You don’t want the money?” Ethan reached into his pocket and took out a thin wad of cash. He peeled off a crisp $20 bill, waving it in her face. “All you have to do is talk. A lot easier than some of the other shit people ask you to do.”
She snatched the money and stuck it into the pocket of her jeans.
“What did you do this week?” he asked.
“Scored, got high, scored, got high…”
“What about your kid?” Ethan’s eyes searched her face. “Did you call him like you said you were going to?”
“I was high when I said that.” Marie flicked ashes onto the cement. They burned orange a moment before dying out. “I got no business calling him.”
“I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”
“He don’t want to talk to me. Trust me.”
“Which is why you should call him,” Ethan said with a sigh. “So eventually he will want to talk to you, so he knows you care.”
“It don’t work like that. And besides, my brother would never give him the phone.” Marie’s voice was hard.
“So you still haven’t contacted anybody?” Ethan watched her face carefully. “No family, no friends, nobody from Albuquerque?”
“Nope.”
“So nobody knows where you are?”
“They can all go fuck themselves.” She fingered her necklace. It was a silver amulet on a black leather string. She’d told him last week that it was the only thing she’d brought with her from New Mexico, other than the clothes on her back. Something to ward off evil spirits. It glinted in the dim light of the alley.
Ethan nodded, satisfied.
Marie crushed her cigarette out with her running shoe. She stepped closer to him, tracing one skinny, nicotine- stained finger down the front of his shirt. “So, listen.” Her voice was suddenly husky. “I could use another twenty.”
Her breath was foul from poor hygiene and too many cigarettes. Ethan moved away. “My girlfriend’s inside.”
“So what? For forty I’ll let you do that thing you like, only this time don’t squeeze so-”
“Not tonight.”
“Since when?” Marie sighed and her voice returned to normal. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”
“Some other time.” Ethan glanced down the alley.
“When? When are-”
A voice interrupted them. “Ethan? You there?”
It was Abby. Ethan could make out the shape of her head peeking around the corner of the building and into the alleyway.
“I’m here,” he called out.
“We need you back inside, babe. We can’t get the dishwasher working and we could use your magic hands.”
“Be right there.” Abby’s head disappeared and Ethan turned his attention back to Marie. “Sunday. Meet me here, late. Midnight. But don’t tell anyone-nobody-or you don’t get paid.”
“Midnight? For another twenty bucks?”
“A hundred.”
Marie’s eyes narrowed and she fished into her pocket for another cigarette. “A hundred for what?”
“You’ll find out next Sunday.” He looked at her hard in the dim light. “You don’t show, we’re done. I’ll find someone else for my case study.”
He started walking back down the alley toward the entrance of the shelter, leaving Marie standing alone. He heard the flick of her lighter somewhere behind him.
Enjoy the cigarettes, darling. There are only so many left in your future.
CHAPTER 7
H er skirt was too tight.
Sheila could feel the waistband cutting into her stomach, but there was nothing she could do about it now except suck it in and act natural. Two hundred pairs of eyes were on her, and they were unforgiving. They caught every mistake, every stumble, every inconsistency.
Especially Ethan, whose gaze was unwavering from the front row. The picture he’d sent her flashed through her mind for the umpteenth time.
Pacing the lecture hall slowly, she forced herself to focus. The small mike pinned to her silk blouse picked up every word with perfect clarity and transmitted it to the speakers overhead. She looked up at the rows of expectant faces watching her in the auditorium, organizing her thoughts before speaking.
“I want you all to think about your own relationships, the people in your own lives. Your parents, for instance.
