is?”
“Might be her pimp’s name. They do that sometimes. It was covered up when she was here last.”
“Who’s her pimp?”
“I don’t know. I asked but she wouldn’t tell me. Said it was too dangerous.”
Too dangerous for whom? I wondered. I said, “OK if I keep these?”
“Sure.”
“You said she left home. Was that here? Whitehall?”
He shook his head. “We grew up in Mount Alexandria.”
“I know it. I’m from close by there.” The small city was just under an hour east of Columbus. “You have family there still?”
“Just our mom.”
“Dad?”
“Died of cancer. My mom remarried.”
“When did you move here?”
“Five years ago. After I got out of the army.”
“What do you do?”
“I run a forklift at a warehouse, over in Reynoldsburg. But I’m taking classes. I want to do engineering someplace.”
“Any chance your mom knows where Jessica is?”
“I doubt it.”
“Have you asked her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Byrnes shifted in his seat. “There’s no point. I don’t think she would know. They didn’t get along.”
“Any reason?”
“They argued a lot, especially after my mom remarried.”
“How about your stepdad? Would he know?”
“They split up a while ago.”
“Do you know when Jessica came to Columbus?”
“After high school. I wasn’t around then—I left when I was eighteen.”
“Did she come here for work?”
“I think.”
“Any idea who she stayed with?”
“No. Like I said, I wasn’t around. I maybe wasn’t the greatest brother.” He looked away, ostensibly to check on Robbie in the other room.
“Don’t worry about stuff like that. Things happen no matter what we do, OK?”
“OK, I guess.”
“You know how long she’s been working the streets?”
“A while. At least since I got back.”
“What parts of town?”
“Bunch of places. Bottoms, like I said. East side, more recently. The Rest EZ, a lot of the times.”
“Rest EZ?”
“Motel, up there, on East Main.” He pointed through the wall behind him. “Where she, you know, met customers. It’s a pit. Columbus has been trying to shut it down. Too late now.”
“She stayed there?”
“Sometimes. She moved around a lot.”
“And you said she called the day after Lisa’s body was found?”
“Yeah. But no message, like I said.”
“Right.” It could mean anything, I thought. A grieving girl looking for comfort after her friend’s death. A frightened girl reaching out for help. Or a drug-addled girl looking for more money.
“What’d the police say?”
“They took it seriously. Guy came out and asked me a bunch of questions.”
“Do you know who?”
“I don’t remember. I’ve got his card in the other room. So what do you think? About finding her?”
I hesitated. I glanced into the other room at Robbie.
“Any idea who his father is?”
“Not a clue. Jessica just showed up with him. He was nothing but a baby. Said she couldn’t handle him. Long story short, I decided to keep him. Thought it was the right thing to do. Thought maybe, someday, Jessica might, you know—”
“She didn’t say anything about the dad?”
“She wasn’t around long enough. And to be honest, the guys she was with? I’m not sure I want to know. So can you help me or not?”
“Sure,” I said. No idea. “There’s just a couple of things—”
“I can pay. That’s not a problem. Just tell me how much.”
I looked around the spare kitchen. At the worn furniture in the living room. At Robbie, glued to the TV. I wondered if anyone knew who his father was. If even Jessica knew. I quoted Byrnes a number half my usual rate which wouldn’t even cover expenses. Even at that, I saw him blanch a moment before pulling out his wallet.
“You have that cop’s card?” I said after he’d handed me the cash. “And I’ll need your mom’s number.”
“Why?”
“Standard operating procedure. I talk to lots of people, job like this.”
“She hasn’t seen Jessica in a lot longer than me.”
“I still have to ask.”
“OK,” he said, doubtfully. He gave me her number, stood up, and went into the living room to hunt the detective’s card. When he came back we finished with the part I hate the most. I asked for identifying features in case of. He nodded. There was the pimp’s name on her neck. Some roses tattooed on her left shoulder. A broken collarbone from a sledding accident when they were kids. He didn’t know about dental records.
“Thanks,” he said when we were done and I stood at the door. “You’ll stay in touch?”
I told him I would. We shook hands and I walked downstairs to the parking lot. I got in my van, pulled out my phone, and dialed the number for the missing person detective. Larry Schwartzbaum. Name didn’t mean anything to me. I left a message, as I figured I would on a Sunday afternoon. I held off calling the mom. Tammy. I needed some more information first.
I drove south on Yearling until it bottomed out at Livingston. I pulled into the parking lot at Resch’s, went inside, and ordered a dozen
