Chapter 7

"Stephanie's goin' on a date! Steph's goin' on a date!" Lula and Connie sang annoyingly. I had my arms folded and was refusing to look at them. Vinny's office door was open slightly and I could see him banging his head on his desk. I shared the desire.

"Would you shut the fuck up, please?" I asked in an aggravated tone.

"'shut the fuck up, please?'" Lula quoted. "Who combines a swear word with a polite one?"

"This chick," I answered, gesturing to myself with my thumb. "Are there any new FTA's?"

"What's wrong with the 3 you haven't found yet?" Vinny called from his office.

"I've hit a dead end with them," I called back. "I want other people."

"Have you quit using Facebook?" Connie asked.

"No," I replied. "Magda doesn't have one. I think I friended the wrong Jane Smith. And Russell Bitterman rejected my request."

"Have you tried their homes again since you tried them on Facebook?" Vinny asked, coming out of his cave.

"Well," I said sheepishly. "No."

"And why not?" Vinny asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"…Because I don't want to?" I honestly answered, backing up and wincing."

"Do I need to drag Ranger into this again?" Vinny asked. I knew he wouldn't take kindly to me giving up on the other available FTA's.

"I'd prefer you didn't," I replied. After our visit last night that consisted of Ranger laughing at me, I didn't want to give him more reasons to do the same.

"If you don't find them soon, I will," Vinny threatened.

"How about if I find at least one of them in the next 24 hours," I bargained. "You'll cut me a break, huh?"

"Find them all," Vinny counter offered. "And I'll cut you a break."

"I'd take him up on that if I were you," Lula joked.

"Let's try Jane," I said, taking that folder only. "She was a one time offender. According to the cop who arrested her, what she did was completely out of character for her. She's not dangerous."

"Sounds good to me," Lula agreed.

Jane Smith, whose name is so common that we really had had no chance of finding her through Facebook, was a good woman. Goes to church every Sunday, is on the PTA, a girl scout Mom, and is a Saint. The out of character crime she had committed was soliciting a male prostitute. When she was arrested she claimed that she had been trying to save him. And for all we knew, she had been. But, then she'd been persuaded by him to do otherwise.

Jane lived in the Burg, but wasn't in my mother's circle. They went to the same church, but when I asked my mother about Jane, she only knew things second hand. Lula and I headed up Jane's yard. It was covered in kid's tricycles and other toys. Her file said she was a mother of 3, married to Hank Smith. And according to the cop I'd talked to, Hank didn't know of his wife's crime. When we knocked, Jane answered with a toddler on her hip. As soon as she recognized us, she yelped, closed her door, and we heard it lock.

"We want to help you, Jane," I called out. She didn't answer me. "We can leave your husband out of this if you work with us." The door opened again with Jane toddler-less.

"How can we possibly leave him out of it," she asked us, fighting back tears. "I could be sentenced to jail time!"

"Sometimes it's only a fine," Lula said. Lula used to be a prostitute, she knew a lot about this.

"Hank would question me if any large sum of money left our account," Jane said.

"Maybe your friends could help you out?" I asked.

"If they knew why I needed the money, they would refuse," Jane told us. "And they'd tell Hank!"

"I'm sorry for what this is putting you through," I honestly told her. "But missing your court date won't make this go away."

"I'm aware of that," Jane said. "If I'm right about my condition, this all won't be a secret for much longer."

"You're not saying?" Lula questioned her. It took me a moment to figure out where this was going.

"My period is late," Jane said. "My husband and I haven't slept together since before I had my last child." She started to tear up. "The man I sinned with is the father!"

"Shit," Lula said looking away. Jane's eyes widened at Lula's language use. "She's fucked!" Lula hissed at me as I tried to shush her.

"Jane," I said, not knowing what to do. "There is nothing I can say or think of to make this work. But it's my job to get you to reschedule your court date."

"I'd rather die!" Jane cried. And then she slammed her door on us.

"You don't think she'll?" Lula asked nervously. We gave each other panicked looks, and then we both started banging on her door calling her name.

"We have to do something!" I told Lula. "Her kids are in there!"

"What can we do?" Lula asked.

"What's going on here?" I heard someone call out. It was Jane's neighbor from across the street.

"Nothing to worry about!" I called out. The neighbor went back inside, but I knew she was probably headed toward her phone. The Burg gossip hotline was about to take a hit.

"Okay…" I tried to take point. "For all we know, she could just be crying and ignoring her kids."

"Sure," Lula said, starting to breath heavily. "I can believe that. I want to believe that."

"But," I continued. "It could be something far worse."

"I definitely believe that," Lula said. "Should I shoot her lock out?"

"We aren't equipped to deal with this," I told her. "We need to call someone who is."

"The police?" Lula asked. "You really want to bring them into this? What if she's not doing anything?"

"There's no way to help Jane without seriously damaging her reputation and marriage," I said. "It's more important to save her life." Lula and I locked eyes and couldn't move. When we heard a car pull into the Smith's drive, we finally looked away from each other. Hank was home.

"Who are you?" Hank Smith asked. Our eyes were now locked on his. "Wait," he said. "I know who you two are." He looked toward his house that we were standing in front of. "What could you two possibly be doing here? What has my wife done?"

"I think that's something that she should tell you," Lula told him. "…If she's not hanging from her neck in your shower."

Hank sped toward us and we jumped out of the way. He unlocked his door and dashed into the house. We followed him in, and the what happened next, is better left untold.