Jennifer shrunk into a corner and watched as all hell broke loose between the head detective and the one who knew her name. She was still shocked he knew who she was. Over the past couple of years, the cops had picked her up a few times; disorderly conduct, public drunkenness, hooking, and she always gave her fake name. When she was hauled in the first time, she was terrified that she’d be found out and Lulu was the first name she could think of. She knew it was ridiculous and was sure the cops would call her on it but none of them did, they just snorted at the obviously fake name and booked her through the system. After that, she was convinced no one knew nor cared who she really was … until tonight.

The head guy, Calloway, tried to get the interview back on track, but Vincennes kept butting in and asking about her father and his friends. The more he asked, the more she shrank away until she felt smaller than a pea on the chair with a huge fucking monster raging over her head asking question after question. That’s when Calloway pulled Vincennes outside. The fat one, Stens, laughed when they heard the shouts and the scuffle. The big guy, White, just rolled his eyes and looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. Finally Exley suggested they go pull them apart but Calloway came back in shaking out his hand and announcing the interview was over.

Calloway hurried her out to his car and drove her back to the station. She sat as far from him as she could, not that she was afraid he’d hurt her, but afraid of who he’d tell what he knew.

“Can I call you Jennifer?” She looked at his profile as he was pulled up to the curb and stopped the car. She thought for a moment that she could fling open the door and run, but where would she run to? She was truly stuck and she knew it.

In a trembling voice, she answered. “Sure, but can I ask a favor?”

“Shoot,” he nodded.

“Don’t tell anyone my name, okay? Please don’t.”

Calloway glanced at the girl. A beauty with dark hair, almost black. Fair skin. Big blue eyes. In this light and her eyes filled with fear, she looked as young as Vincennes claimed she was and he wondered what she was really afraid of.

“Let’s make a deal. You answer some of my questions from before, answer them truthfully, and I’ll keep your secret. Deal?”

“Deal.” She breathed a sigh of relief.

Calloway took out his pen and paper and began taking notes. “So, when did you start prostituting yourself and why did you choose to do it?”

Jennifer kept her word and answered as truthfully as she could. She’d started hooking during her last few months of high school. At first, it was exciting being so incredibly bad and doing it so secretly. But now, it’d lost its thrill. She’d thought about stopping, but something always kept her going back to it. Calloway asked about her childhood and he shook his head at her description. No, she hadn’t been abused physically or sexually. But sometimes, she wondered if that would’ve been better. Her father rarely noticed her. If he did, he either just grunted “Go away” or barked an order. Her mom, the former beauty queen and starlet, was an alcoholic; one day clingy and demanding, the next angry and mean. But drunk as a skunk at all times. Mostly, Jennifer was invisible to both of them.

She always thought she’d like to be an actress and when she was younger, she had dreams of being in movies and having lots of fans who’d write and tell her how much they loved her. But when she suggested taking acting classes, her father said she wasn’t talented or pretty enough and her mother went on a drinking binge that lasted a week. So she never tried again. But in hooking, she got to act a little.

When she grew quiet, Calloway dug into his wallet, pulled out a business card and handed it to her. “Here, this is a buddy of mine, Pete Skelly. He’s a doctor, a psychiatrist, working out of the University Medical Center and a good friend. He can help you.” She took the card and stared at it. “I’ll tell him to expect your call.”

“But, won’t he tell my folks?” her brow furrowed.

“No. He can’t. Privileged information. Call him, Jennifer,” Calloway urged. She nodded a thanks as he opened her door and hailed a cab to take her home. After she’d gone, he sat in the car for a while, wondering if every interview was going to be as fucked up as this one.

w

Standard procedure for Carson Calloway every Saturday night was to stop by for a little sugar from the lovely and talented Francine Foster But that night he wasn’t in the mood. He was pissed about Vincennes, pissed about how the interview had obviously failed and would probably be of no use to Skelly, and most of all … he was pissed because that kid was hooking. Fuck, if there was one thing Calloway knew about his job, it was to never let it get under his skin … but Jennifer Wolfowitz sure had.

He went home and listened to the interview tape, taking great pleasure that his angry slug into Hollywood Jack’s ugly face was audible, even though he’d taken the guy outside the shabby motel room to do it. He wondered how this one was going to look on Exley’s weekly report to the Captain, if there’d be ramifications indicating that he’d acted unprofessionally. Hell, he was even wondering if Skelly was going to be a bit pissed off. All in all it was one fucking bad night.

He nursed a whiskey and water and crawled into bed. Maybe Exley would fudge the report? Cover for him? After all, the kid had been shadowing him all week and seemed to respect him. One could only hope.

There was pounding on his door and Calloway grinned. There she was in all her glory, flaming mad and stomping into his apartment like she’d been rehearsing the scene for months.

“Sorry, baby. I’ve got a lot on my mind today. Maybe I should’ve called?” Calloway watched her pour herself a drink and strip to the bone.

“I don’t care one bit about what’s on your mind, a lot or otherwise.”

Three hours later she left, her face flushed with satisfaction, wearing dark glasses and walking a little funny. Well, thought Calloway. That was entertaining. Franny was always a terrific piece of ass when she was mad as a hornet.

w

A phone call to Lenny Obermann’s parole officer tipped Jack towards a dive in Boyle Heights, a neighborhood that once bore the name of Paradon Blanco back when Los Angeles was still part of Mexico. In English, it meant White Bluffs, a name that suggested anything but the modern day reality of a past her prime working class neighborhood once populated with an abundance of eastern European immigrants intent upon discovering their piece of the American dream. Today it looked as if Mexico had all but taken her back. 

The name on the hotel sign read Hollywood Arms, which caused him to laugh. The desk clerk was surly and wasn’t impressed by the sight of Jack’s badge, but he changed his mind quickly when Vincennes suggested it was in his best interest to comply with his request for Lenny’s room key; suggestion being a highly subjective term when faced with the threat of being hauled in on a kiddie porn rap.

You’re coming down a notch in your choice of residence, Len. Jack had first met Lenny three years ago when he was brought in for questioning over a break in over at MGM. Seems Lenny was romantically involved with an up and coming director who no longer had any use for a past with his prime hair dresser. Lenny took the news rather badly.The director’s office had been ransacked, but he decided not to press charges. Seems Lenny had some photographs that presented the director engaging in less than wholesome activities, and it was in his best interests not to pursue the matter. Lenny stayed on with the studios, having made a few influential friends with a taste for what he was peddling, and this is where Jack was figuring that Lenny could spread a little light with the case he was following.

As he stood outside of Lenny’s door, Jack found it slightly ajar. Drawing his gun and kicking it open, he found the room empty save for the lifeless form of what was once Lenny Obermann, splayed out in the bed in his underwear, an empty syringe on the stained mattress next to him.

Seems who ever did the job wasn’t taking his chances with a mere forced overdose. In the center of Lenny’s forehead was a single bullet hole. The lack of blood told him that Lenny had probably been dead a while before the trigger was pulled.

Vincennes was right back where he started. 

w

White came home after two drinks with Stensland. He didn’t dare just disappear again, not without raising a mess of suspicions on his partner’s part. Stens had already insinuated that he knew Bud was with Lorna that night right after the interview. He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t confirm it either. A grunt was all Stensland was getting and he took it without bringing up the subject again.

Bud sat at the kitchen table and let Lorna serve him dinner. As he ate silently, he found himself thinking. Nothing wrong with a nice domestic kinda life. Marriage and kids were something every man wanted, right? And watching Lorna fuss around the little kitchen certainly gave the illusion of domestication. Clean counters, no dishes in the sink and new curtains on the kitchen window. Yeah, domestication could be a nice state of affairs … but facts were facts.

If a domestic life was what Bud was looking for … it wouldn’t be with a hooker, ex or otherwise. He had all those images in his head; a clean, chaste virgin in his wedding night bed who would bare him perfect kids and make his life complete. She’d be a woman he loved … and he didn’t love Lorna Rodriguez.

It wasn’t because she was a hooker; Lord knew she had little choices, poor girl. It wasn’t because she was a spic; he really didn’t give a rat’s ass about that. It was just that he already had a pigeon hole for Lorna. She was battered and abused and all he cared about was taking care of her. Making her safe. Keeping her far from her brutal pimp and maybe helping her start a better life on her own.

Hell, all week he’d been trying to think of ways to help her do that. That evening, he was thinking that a bus ticket to some Midwestern town might be exactly what she needed. A quiet place where she could begin clean and fresh instead of keeping house for a cop who was never really going to appreciate her and buying curtains he never really wanted. He carried his plate to the sink, ignoring her outreached hand to take it from him, and fingered the stiff, starched yellow fabric over the window.

“Where’d you get these curtains?” he turned a glare over his shoulder at her.

Lorna smiled sweetly. “At the store on the corner. I thought they were pretty. Don’t you like them?”

“No.” He turned and leaned back against the sink. “Where’d you get the damn money to buy curtains?” His blood was getting up. Was she fucking out hooking again?

Lorna slowly stood, her face dropped and grew pale. “Bud … you gave me money. Remember?”

His face went blank. He had given her money. Fuck.

Lorna pulled cash from her apron pocket and slid it onto the table. “The curtains were two dollars, this is the change. I am sorry, Bud. I will leave now.”

“No!” he reached her in two quick strides, gripped her wrist tight. “No, don’t. It’s just … I just … I was worried …”

Her eyes were glowing with mounting tears. “You were worried that I was fucking another man.”

“No,” he lied. “I was worried your pimp might find you. Stay in the apartment, Lorna.” Fuckin’ A, he wanted her to stay in the apartment. Hooker Lorna Rodriguez seen coming and going casually from Detective Bud White’s front door was not going to translate well. There was no fucking way the neighbors were going to think he’d hired a maid. And if Stense spotted Lorna? There’d be hell to pay. “Just … stay inside, okay?”

She went to the bedroom and closed the door and Bud wondered if he’d be getting any comfort from her that night.

w

Jack caught up with Jennifer at half past three on Tuesday afternoon. Seemed that along with the occupation of prostitute, daddy’s little girl played the role of student at USC. Perhaps last night’s interview was enough to scare the kid straight for the time being, and judging by her appearance, she was playing the role of teenage ingénue to the hilt.

He followed a hunch and staked out the front of the school, hoping to find her among the crush of students about to leave for other classes. His patience paid off when he caught a glimpse of her exiting the school premises with two other girls, and he was surprised to discover that there was no car waiting to escort her safely home. Apparently her parents hadn’t caught wind of Saturday evening’s adventure, and Jack saw his opportunity to use it to his advantage.

He decided that the direct approach would be the most effective. He guessed correctly that Jennifer wouldn’t want her friends to know too much about her extracurricular activities. Challenging authority would always be considered cool, but being labeled as a whore by one’s classmates was another matter entirely.

He sprinted across the street and flashed his badge. “Pardon me, ladies. I’m Officer Vincennes with the LAPD and I need to speak to Jennifer.”

The girls stopped in their tracks and glanced quickly over at Jennifer and then back at Vincennes. Jennifer looked as if she had seen a ghost and was about to bolt.

“Is there something we can help you with, Officer?” One of the girls asked, eying Jennifer with a questioning glance.

Jack turned on the charm. “Miss Wolfowitz helped us ID a purse snatcher last week and I needed to ask her a few more questions. Seems the guy might get off for lack of evidence and we can’t let that happen, now can we?”

“You’re that cop who’s always in the newspapers!” The same girl exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with the discovery. “Oh Jennifer, this is exciting. Wait until I tell everyone!”

Jennifer paled even more and Jack knew he had her. “Now girls, this is an important case, and we don’t want to tip anyone off, okay? I’m going to trust you to keep this on the hush hush.”

“Be quiet, Patty.” Jennifer stepped forward. “Officer Vincennes is right. It is an important case and we need to cooperate.” The kid had presence; there was no denying the fact. “I’ll catch up with you later. How can I help you, Officer?”

Vincennes took her elbow and led her to his car. Jennifer wanted to jerk it out of his grasp, but to do so would attract too much attention so she smiled sweetly and hissed under her breath, “I did everything you cops asked. What do you want?”

“Answers to a couple of questions, babydoll. Nothin’ difficult.” He opened the passenger door and helped her in.

She sat staring out the windshield, arms folded across her chest. “I’m done answering your fucking questions,” she spat as he slid in behind the wheel.

“It’s not over until it’s over,” he said as he slid the car into gear. “And this, babydoll, definitely ain’t over yet.”

Jennifer dropped her tough girl act long enough to show a look of panic as he pulled away from the curb, but Jack responded by grabbing hold of her arm again to keep her from bolting.

“We can do this easy, or we can do this the hard way.”

Not wanting to test what the difference between the two choices might be, she dropped her arm into her lap and stared straight ahead. Jack noticed that she was chewing her bottom lip and reminded himself that despite her tough girl façade, she was really just still a kid, albeit one of the more fucked up examples that he could recall coming across in a long while.

There was a park located two blocks away and he headed straight over, parking near the swings and a group of small children with their mothers. He turned towards Jennifer and went straight for what he needed.

“I’m investigating your father and I need you to answer some questions.”

The girl just looked at him, her expression changing from one of defiance to confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Jennifer, I working a narcotics case and your father’s name is at the top of the list. I need to know if he’s familiar with a gentleman by the name of Lenny Obermann.”

The kid thought for a moment and shook her head. “I don’t recognize that name and even if I did, why should I tell you anything?”

“Because Lenny turned up dead this afternoon from a heroin overdose and I’m wondering if your father might be involved.”

“What does any of this stuff have to do with my dad?”

“Lenny was on your father’s payroll. Seems your dad is in the business of providing his clients with a steady stream of heroin and I want to know more about where he gets his supply.”

Jennifer’s expression hadn’t changed. “How would I possibly have any knowledge of something like that?”

Jack wasn’t deterred. “You know, I could always let the word get out that the teenage daughter of one of Hollywood’s leading agents to the stars was arrested for solicitation. I have this friend who works for a little magazine called ‘Hush-Hush’ and he’d be more than happy to break the story.”

The look of horror that came over Jennifer’s face was what Vincennes was waiting for, but her answer only proved that he’d been chasing another dead end.

“Listen, Officer … Vincennes …my dad and I are hardly close. We haven’t even spoken to each other in over two weeks and even then it was just over the phone and him telling me to let him speak to my mother. I’m hardly in the position to know anything about what he does at home, let alone what people he may associate with at his job. Please … if I thought it would help I’d make up something just to make you go away, but I really don’t know about any of this.”

The kid was frightened over protecting her own ass, but it was obvious that she really knew nothing that Jack needed to know. Starting the car up again, he drove her back to school and let her go, watching her very calmly get out of the car and head across the street. As he pulled away from the curb she broke out into a run as if the devil himself was chasing after her. He probably was.

She ran all the way to her next class, hurried to her seat and sat, trying to quietly catch her breath. The lecture had already begun and she pulled out her notebook and poised her pen to take notes, but her mind was not on Family and Kinship in Cross-Cultural Perspective. Rather, it spun around Vincennes, heroin, her father, and what it all might mean to her. If her father got put away for drug possession and she helped put him there, then it would be a nice payback for years of neglect and indifference.