'Hey, you've always called me Kincaid.'
'Yeah, well, you've always called me Chuck. Am I supposed to call you
something different now too?'
'You can call me whatever you want, as long as you keep your smart-ass
comments to yourself while I interview Ken-dra Martin.'
'They teach you those manners at Hah-vud?'
'Give me a break. Last time I checked, that little park we call the
waterfront was still named after your daddy.'
'Yeah, and look at all the good that being the governor's son has done
me. Driving fifteen miles out of my way on my night off for your
interview, standing here with a McMeal for your witness. The last time
I checked, Kincaid, you and I were still friends. Would it kill you to
at least say hi to me before we head in for work?'
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. 'No, it wouldn't. You're
right. Hi. Hi, Chuck. It's nice to see you. Now can we go do my
interview?'
'Yes. And it's nice to see you too.'
I rang the doorbell. I could hear obnoxious music, the kind that
started to sound like noise when I turned thirty, blaring from inside.
I rang the doorbell again and then banged on the door. I felt him
standing behind me while we waited on the porch in silence. When I
heard the music get lower and footsteps approach the door, I looked at
him over my shoulder. 'That was nice of you. To bring her some
dinner, I mean.'
'Thanks.'
I couldn't tell what Kendra Martin looked like when she answered the
door, because her face was obscured by a big pink gum bubble. It
popped to reveal a thin pale girl with doe eyes and full lips. Her
wavy, dark hair stopped right below her shoulders. She wore an Eminem
sweatshirt and a pair of jeans that looked like they'd fit my father.
So far, she seemed like a typical thirteen-year-old.
She looked past me at Chuck. 'What're you doing here?'
'I came by to see whether you listened to anything I told you on
Sunday. What did I tell you about looking out the window to see who's
here before you open the door to anyone?'
She shifted her weight all the way to one leg and swung her hip one
direction and tilted her head in the other. 'I guess I forgot this
time. Anyway, it was you, so it's OK, right?' She twisted a lock of
hair with her fingers. Obviously Chuck Forbes's magnetism was not lost
on this new generation of teenage girls.
'OK, we'll treat that as a test run. But I mean it: From now on, you
have to look before you open that door. If it's someone you don't
know, you don't answer. Got it?'
'Yeah, I got it. Whaddaya doin' here?'
'I brought someone over who I want you to meet. This is Samantha
Kincaid.'
Kendra looked at me without saying a word. Then she smiled at Chuck
and popped her gum. 'She your girlfriend?'
Chuck looked at me and raised his eyebrows. 'No, she's not my
girlfriend. But she is a really good friend of mine, and she's a DA.
She's going to be handling your case.'
I held out my hand to her. She shook it but looked down at the floor
while she did it.
'It's nice to meet you, Kendra. I've heard a lot about you. Detectives
Walker and Johnson tell me you did a real good job helping them at the
hospital last weekend.'
'That's funny. They told Chuck and Mike I acted like demon spawn.'
'They might've mentioned something like that to me too. But they also
said you were very helpful. Do you mind if we come in?'
She looked at the box in Chuck's hand. He said, 'I thought you might
be hungry. The fries are still hot.'
'Come on in.' She took the box from Chuck. 'Thank you.'
'Don't mention it. It was Sam's idea, anyway.'
'Thank you,' she said to me.
I looked at Chuck. 'It wasn't a problem. Really.'
The Martin house wasn't what I expected. I had braced myself for the
worst. Unfortunately, I'd gotten used to the fact that an entire
segment of the population raises its children in filthy homes that
don't look like they could possibly exist in the United States. Last
year, police went to an apartment on a noise complaint and found nine
