9

Piper sat with Sophie on the bench as she talked. She didn’t push or prod, just as she had promised, only listened.

The girl gave descriptions of blood and horror Piper could barely imagine. Remarkably, Sophie spoke without tears, a sign to Piper that she hadn’t yet begun to truly process the ordeal.

When she was done speaking, Piper walked the girl back to her room. Sophie’s arms weren’t folded anymore, and she was talking about how Carol had said when she was ready someone would drive her to school, but she wasn’t ready to see anyone from her school yet.

When they got back to the center, Piper walked her to Carol, and before she left, Sophie asked, “When will I see you again?”

Piper smiled warmly at her. “I’ll come by tomorrow.”

Piper was going to take out a card and give it to her, but it felt too impersonal, so she got a small Post-it note and a pen from the front desk and wrote her name and cell phone number on it. She handed it to Sophie and said, “If you ever need to talk to me about anything, text or call me. I can come down if you need me.”

“Thanks,” she said shyly.

Piper watched the young girl go up the stairs, and Carol had a wide smile.

“That’s the most lively I’ve seen her since she got here. Thank you for doing that.”

Piper glanced up at the teen as she disappeared upstairs. “She’s not grieving yet. Will you just keep an eye on her?”

“Of course.”

They hugged again, and Piper left the complex and went back to Lazarus’s car. He leaned against it with one hand in his pocket and another sucking on the vape device that looked like a small black pen. The scent was smoky leather.

Piper lifted her phone and showed him the notes she had taken.

“There was only one assailant. He’s about her height, and it was too dark for her to make out any tattoos or skin color. He’s right handed, and she thinks he was nude when he attacked her. He had something in his hand that she said could’ve been a knife or something like it.”

Lazarus glanced at the notes and said, “All that from a walk, huh?”

She put her phone away. “You don’t know how to talk to children, Detective. What are you doing in Juvenile Crimes?”

He opened his car door. “Let’s get a drink.”

It was barely lunchtime when they got to the bar. Lazarus maneuvered his sleek car into the dust-covered lot of the Last Chance Saloon. The building was sun bleached, secreted away in the city’s corner. It had the scorch marks of too many summers under the desert sun.

It smelled like heated asphalt as she got out of the car.

Inside, the bar was lit by slats of sunbeams slicing through cracks in the blacked-out windows. The creaking floorboards sighed under their weight. Somewhere in the back, a jukebox played Zeppelin.

Lazarus got a place in the corner. The booth was old and the upholstery torn. The bartender, a man that looked like he was part of some biker club, gave him a nod. Lazarus nodded back. The table was sticky as Piper sat down and set her bag next to her.

Lazarus observed her thoughtfully. He had encountered many new attorneys who, like her, dedicated themselves to a cause they felt a deep connection with—the abused, the neglected, the overlooked. They were usually idealistic, driven, kindhearted, and gentle. But he knew that the world didn’t discriminate in its cruelty, breaking the gentle and the kind just as easily as the cruel and the wicked.

A server came over with two beers. A brand Piper had never heard of, Midnight Porter. The server was a middle-aged woman with a large burn scar on her hand.

“Where you been, Laz? I haven’t seen you in a minute.”

“Just tying up some loose ends before summer. It’s our busy season. Crime goes up in the summers.”

“For real?”

“For real,” Lazarus said.

“Well, I’m glad we got you out there protecting us. Lemme know if you need anything else, sweetie.”

“Thank you, Kate.”

He pushed a beer over to Piper. “Rude to let a man drink by himself.”

She lifted the beer and smelled it and read the label: there was coffee in it. A lot of coffee. “You always drink on duty, Laz ?” she said with a hint of humor.

He guzzled half the beer. “I drink two Midnight Porters every day and have for seventeen years, since before drinking age. I’m not stopping now ’cause a desk jockey sergeant might give me a tongue-lashing.”

Piper took a sip of the beer, and her eyes widened in disgust. The bitter taste punched her in the mouth, making her gag and cough. It tasted like stale, fermented coffee with a side of salt. The bitterness was excruciating.

“It’s an acquired taste,” Lazarus said.

She read the label. “This has more caffeine than two energy drinks. Can you even sleep?”

“No,” he said, taking out his vape pen.

They chatted a minute as he finished the first beer and took hers.

Piper said, “So are these people friends or enemies?”

Lazarus leaned back in the booth, resting his head against the upholstery in a dreamy state. “What makes you say that?”

“If they know you well enough to bring your usual, you’re either a friend or someone they need to keep an eye on. My guess is they’re friends.”

“Good guess.”

“I was a waitress at a dingy bar through law school. Pay was horrible but tips were okay.”

Lazarus subtly nodded his chin in the direction of the bartender. “That’s Bass, he owns the place. His son was killed a while back and I caught it. His head had been caved in with a hammer. The kid was only sixteen. Not old enough yet to really piss people off.”

“Did you ever find out what happened?”

He nodded as he took another drink of beer. “The universe happened.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Randomness happened. Someone saw him and decided it was a life they wanted to extinguish.”

“You never found who did it?”

“No.”

“What a waste of youth.”

He nodded and stared down at the can of beer. “It’s all will to power. Whoever killed him expressed their power, and when I find them, they’ll be overtaken by a greater power.”

“That’s why laws were written.”

“Laws were written to benefit the people who wrote them.”

“Seems like everyone benefits.”

He gave a little shrug. “Some benefit more than others.”

The waitress came back and asked if Lazarus needed more beer, and he told her two was enough without the sun setting yet. Piper asked for a Sprite.

“You haven’t told me much about Ember Lake. What was it like?”

He hesitated and then spoke. “The two younger kids were bad enough, but Ava was ... I’ve never seen a human body so ... mutilated. Her parents couldn’t have an open casket for her ’cause the ME couldn’t stitch her together well enough.”

He continued to stare down into his half-finished beer as he sucked smoke from the vape. “Odd she’s dead but Sophie’s still alive, ain’t it?”

Piper refused to respond.

“That was good work with her,” Lazarus finally said.

He didn’t seem like he was used to giving compliments, and Piper didn’t embarrass him any further by saying thank you.

Lazarus took a deep swig of his beer before speaking. “So,” he began.

“So.”

“What’s next for you?”

“I’ve got a slew of interviews lined up with Sophie’s teachers. You?”

“I need to have a word with my man that’s got the tattoos.” He guzzled the remnants of his beer and said, “I think it’s time we left. I gotta visit someone that ain’t gonna be happy they’re seein’ me.”