“She’s safe now,” I said softly. I didn’t believe that Jade didn’t care at all. She had involved herself in this, had tried to help Ella in her own way, by helping me. “I’ll keep her safe.”
“I do not know this girl. I don’t want to know her. She is tainted by Henri, always.” Jade looked down at her hands as they lay limp and open in her lap. “You stay safe. That’s what I want.”
Chapter Seventeen
Some secrets weren’t meant to be spoken. Like fire, they would burn anyone who touched them, the speaker and the receiver. Those were my secrets, and I kept them locked away in the box I had built, the emanating heat a melancholy reminder of what had been. Jade’s secrets were different, because they had scorched us all. Like wildfire they had torn her down, leaving only a hollow bark where a strong, tender woman could have been.
I would always harbor some resentment for the fact that she helped Henri, but it hadn’t been entirely unexpected. In many ways, they were birds of a feather. Both feared and successful pimps, both past their prime, struggling to hold on to the old power. Both had failed. They were irrelevant now, history in the Chicago flesh trade. It would be for other men and women to carry on the industry, for surely it would not end with two people dead and a handful of brothels shut down. It was the darkest side of man, and the most natural. To trade, to fuck. It was the oldest profession and the most enduring.
I turned to leave, kneeling at the small table to give tithe. It didn’t matter whether I liked the information, whether I liked her. She had told me the truth, and for that I would pay. But as I reached for the folded bills in my pocket, she came and stayed my hand with hers.
She held out her hand in a fist, facing down.
Cautiously, I held out my hand underneath, catching the familiar jade necklace that no longer hung at her neck.
“For her,” she said softly. “It’s the only thing I have to give. This and the truth.”
I closed my fingers around the thin gold and jade, still warm from her body.
In the car, I showed Luke the necklace and told him what Jade had said.
He whistled. “Are you going to tell Claire?”
“I don’t think it will help her to know. But…I just don’t know. Do you think I should?”
“I’m not really the person to ask. I guess I’d want to know, if it were me.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.” But still, I wasn’t sure. How could I hurt her that way? For nothing. She would gain nothing.
Her adoptive parents’ house was a large colonial in an old neighborhood. Old money. Jade hadn’t been kidding about setting her up with a good family. We parked in the circular drive, and I didn’t argue when Luke escorted me to the door. A middle-aged woman cried when she saw me on the front step and grappled me for a fierce hug, which showed no signs of abating until I sent Luke a look of distress. He smoothly intercepted their thanks, assuring them that helping Claire had been no trouble at all. I didn’t laugh at that, which I considered a major coup. She showed us upstairs to Claire’s room, where Luke opted to wait in the hall.
The decor was very modern, with light wood paneling and ochre fabrics. There weren’t any posters on the wall, any knickknacks on the desk, and I wondered if the sterility was related to her penchant for stealing.
Claire herself looked good. Young, especially against the backdrop of a teenage bedroom. She stood awkwardly, hands in her jeans pockets. I looked at her critically, thinking maybe I could see Henri’s eyes or Jade’s sleek, straight hair, but that was just the suggestion talking. For all I knew, Henri had made a mistake. Maybe it wasn’t her. I found it didn’t really matter.
“Did you talk to Philip?” she blurted out. Then blushed.
I suppressed a smile. “Not really. I did speak to Allie earlier, so she told me how he’s been. Busy with work, I think.”
“Oh.”
I waited for the did he ask about me? But it didn’t come. Smart girl. I understood the compulsion, but they were light-years apart. She was a mostly good girl in the senior class. Philip was a kinky bastard. She’d found a lifetime’s rebellion in one petty crime, and he was in for life.
“Here.” She gestured to the bed. “You can sit down, if you want.”
I eyed the bed. This whole high school bedroom setup hit a little close to home. “No, thanks.” Then realizing it had been curt, I said, “How has school been? Are you caught up?”
“Yeah,” she said. “Lots of homework to make up, but I’ll still finish the year out.”
“Ah. Good.”