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toast without DNA.  It's your case, but I'd plead it out quick if I

were you.  Case like this, you might be able to squeak out a decent

deal before the guy realizes you're shooting blanks."

"I'll take it into consideration.  Thanks.  Anything else?"

"How's that vice angle going?  Didn't Garcia say something about trying

to use the vie to get some intel on pimps?"

"Yeah, Tommy thought it might pan out.  Turns out the girl hadn't been

working long.  And what she did, she did on her own.  I've got some

pictures she took of some other girls, but it doesn't look that

promising."

"Yeah, I saw those on your desk when I was in there earlier.  Didn't

realize the connection.  It's not too late to pull out, you know.  You

could still dump the mandatory minimums and send it down to general

trial," he said.

"I'll keep that in mind."  I got off the phone before I said something

I'd regret and turned back to my computer.  Nothing could take my mind

off Kendra.  I checked the time so I'd know when I'd waited long enough

to check in with Chuck.

After a long 78 seconds, Tommy Garcia popped his head into my office.

"Hey, Sammie.  Quepasa?"

I sighed.  "The Derringer investigation's on hyper speed  It's coming

together, though.  How about you?"

"I'm just over here for a grand jury.  Got here a little early, so I

thought I'd check in on you.  See how's your vic's doing."

"Kendra.  Yeah, seems like a pretty decent kid, actually."  I didn't

see any reason to alarm Tommy with the problem of the keys.  "Speak of

the devil, though, I've got something for you."  I found the

photographs Kendra had given me and handed them to him.  "You might be

interested in these.  Ken-dra's clique from the Hamilton."

He flipped through once and then went through them more methodically.

"A couple of these girls look real familiar."  He leaned toward me and

pointed at one of the girls rubbing against the faceless man with the

Tasmanian Devil tattoo.  I recognized her as Kendra's friend, Haley.

"This one's a real piece of work.  Holly or Halle or Haley or

something."

"I think it's Haley."

He rolled his eyes, clearly tired of the indistinguishable trendy names

found among today's kids.  "Anyway, she's one of the hard-core street

kids.  She's about sixteen.  Been on the streets at least four years

and lives the life in every aspect.  Hates the police, caseworkers,

anything that's legitimate."

"Sounds like she'd have good information for vice."

"Man, are you kidding?  She's like a matriarch out there.  She knows

the kids, but she also knows who's plucking them off the buses and

streets to get them into it.  Problem is, a girl like that ain't easy

to flip.  She's convinced herself that her life is the one she wants,

not just what she got stuck with.  She wouldn't take the road out even

if it were open to her."

"Well, she and my vie were pretty tight.  I got the impression that

this girl sort of watched Kendra's back."

"I don't know, Sam.  From what I can tell, this girl's all about

survival, so unless your vie had something for her .. ."  He faded out.

"Hell, I guess it can't hurt to take a shot.  Use your case as the in

with her?"

"It's up to you.  I thought the pictures might help you out, but don't

take it as an indication that you need to do anything with them."  Most

detectives would be offended if a DA tried to tell them to initiate an

investigation, but Tommy was worried about letting me down.

"Yeah, I might give it a shot.  I'll let you know.  You need these

back?"  he asked, holding up the photographs.

"Nope.  Hold on to 'em as long as you want."

As Garcia left the office, I snuck a look at the clock.  Thirteen

minutes now.  Why hadn't Chuck called?

Just as my self-imposed fifteen minute deadline was about to expire,

the phone rang.

Chuck knew to get to the important stuff first.  "She's at home, and

she's fine."  He could hear my relief.  "I shouldn't have even

mentioned it to her.  I think it scared her mom.  She's saying some

things are out of place.  I'm sure she's just getting used to having

Kendra around all day again.  But she's still spooked."

"But there's nothing else suggesting anyone was in the house?"

"No.  Look, it's fine, Sam.  Even if they took the keys, I don't see

how they'd know where Kendra lives, and it doesn't make any sense for

them to go there just to poke around.  I called one of the community

safety liaisons out in Gresham, to be safe.  He's leaving the

department as we speak to relock the house on the city's dime.  I'm

just pissed that I didn't put it together sooner."

"It's my fault.  I'm the one who Andrea talked to about getting the

keys out of the purse.  I should've made sure they were in there."

"No use blaming anyone now.  Luckily it turned out OK."  With our

temporary panic out of the way, he moved the conversation back to the

new evidence.  "So, you happy about the case now?"

"Happy doesn't begin to describe it.  I'm ecstatic."

"You want to grab a bite tonight?  Celebrate the good news?"

"I was going to stop by Dad's tonight."

"Alright, some other time."  He sounded disappointed, and I was

surprised to find myself feeling the same way.  When we didn't want to

kill each other, I truly felt at home with Chuck.  We'd known each

other so long that we were comfortable together in a way we didn't feel

with anyone else.  At least, I didn't.  From what I'd heard, Chuck was

never lonely for company in the evenings, but given how often his name

passed through the rumor mill, it didn't seem like he'd kept anyone

around long enough to get serious.

"You want to come with me?  Dad always likes seeing you,

you know."  The words were out of my mouth before I reminded myself

that, when it came to me and Chuck, there was a cloud for every silver

lining.

"Sure.  Sounds great.  Pick you up at seven?"

"Only if I get to drive the Jag," I said.  If I was going to play with

fire, I may as well get some warmth out of it.

Just as I hung up the phone, it rang again.  Maybe it was Chuck, having

second thoughts too.

"Kincaid," I said.

It was Judge Leeson's clerk.  Maria Leeson had the unfortunate

privilege of being the presiding judge for the Multnomah County Circuit

Court, meaning she had to deal with all the miscellaneous shit that

none of the other judges had time for.

"The judge wants to know why you're not down here," she said.

"Because I'm here.  And not there."

"You better get down here."