Criminal

I’m neutral, like Switzerland. You dig?”
    “Yes,” Evelyn said. Like Amanda, she had to look up at the man. He was at least six feet tall. “Maybe this will change your mind: We’re here about Lucy Bennett.”
    His easygoing demeanor dropped. “You’re right. I’ll do anything I can to help. God rest her troubled soul.”
    Amanda said, “We were hoping you could tell us about her. Give us an idea of who she was, with whom she associated?”
    “Let’s go to my office.” He stood to the side, indicating they should go first. Despite his hippie appearance, someone had managed to teach him manners.
    Amanda followed Evelyn into Callahan’s office. The space was small but cheerful. The walls were painted a bright orange. Posters from various funk bands were pinned around the room. She catalogued the items on his desk: a framed photograph of a young woman holding a Doberman puppy. A rusted Slinky. A thick stack of typewriter paper held together by a rubber band. There was a sweet odor in the air. Amanda glanced at the ashtray, which looked recently emptied.
    Callahan turned off the transistor radio on his desk. He indicated a set of chairs and waited for Evelyn and Amanda to sit before dragging his own chair out from behind the desk and sitting adjacent to them. It was a tactful move, Amanda realized. He’d managed to put them all on the same level.
    Evelyn took a spiral-bound notebook out of her purse. She was very businesslike. “Mr. Callahan, you work here in what capacity?”
    “Director. Janitor. Job counselor. Priest.” He held out his hands, indicating the office. Amanda realized he was bigger than she first thought. His shoulders were broad. His frame filled the chair. “It doesn’t pay much, but it gives me time to work on my book.” He placed his palm on top of the stacked typewriter pages. “I’m doing an Atlanta version of Breakfast of Champions .”
    Amanda knew better than to engage him about the project. Her professors at school could wax on for hours. “Are you the only one who works here?”
    “My fiancée works the night shift. She’s finishing her nursing degree at Georgia Baptist.” He pointed to the framed photo of the woman and the dog, flashing a used-car salesman’s smile. “Trust me, ladies, we’re all aboveboard here.”
    Evelyn wrote this down, though it was hardly germane. “Can you tell us about Lucy Bennett?”
    Callahan seemed troubled. “Lucy was different from the usual clientele. She spoke properly, for one. She was tough, but there was a softness underneath.” He indicated the outer room, all the empty beds. “A lot of these girls come from troubled families. They’ve been injured in some way. In a bad way.” He paused. “You picking up what I’m putting down?”
    “I feel you,” Evelyn offered, as if she spoke jive every day. “You’re saying Lucy wasn’t like the other gals?”
    “Lucy had been hurt. You could tell that about her. All of these girls have been hurt. You don’t end up on the streets because you’re happy.” He leaned back in the chair. His legs were spread wide. Amanda could not help but be fascinated by the way a change of posture turned him from a boy into a man. Initially, she’d assumed he was her age, though looking at him now, he seemed closer to thirty.
    Evelyn asked, “Did Lucy have any friends?”
    “None of these girls are really friends,” Callahan admitted. “Lucy chilled with her group. Their pimp was Dwayne Mathison. Goes by the name Juice. Though I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”
    Amanda picked at an invisible piece of lint on her skirt. The ghetto gossip mill was more streamlined than the APD’s. She guessed Callahan knew that Juice had almost assaulted them.
    Evelyn asked, “When’s the last time you saw Lucy?”
    “Over a year ago.”
    “You seem to remember a lot about her.”
    “I had a soft spot for her.” He held up his hand. “Not what you’re thinking. It was nothing like that. Lucy was smart. We talked about literature. She was a voracious reader. Had these dreams about giving up the life and going to college one day. I told her about my book. Let her read some pages, even. She was down with it, you know? Got what I was doing.” He shrugged. “I was trying to help her, but she wasn’t ready for it.”
    “Did she ever have contact with her family?”
    His hands gripped the arms of the chair. “That why y’all are here?”
    Evelyn was better at sounding