“Is Ruben still there?” Ryan asked.

“Better not be. I told her she could only stay one night.”

“Because of the dog?” The question was out before I knew it was forming. Was I obsessed?

The mascara-laden eyes shifted to me. “Mr. Kalasnik don’t allow no pets. He’s the owner. Who are you?”

“How did Ruben find you?” Ryan asked.

“Everyone’s hip that I work at the Cowboy.”

“Why you?”

“The kid don’t have a whole lot of options.”

“Is there anyone else Annaliese might contact?” Ryan asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Does she have family in Edmonton?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s not from here.”

“From where?” Ollie.

“I don’t know.”

“When did she first come to Edmonton?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hearing that a lot.”

“We didn’t talk about her past.”

“But you were going to turn her life around.”

“I never said that.”

“You and Foxy make quite a tag team.” Bad cop was doing his best to provoke, hoping for an outburst that might be revealing. “Saint Susan and Saint Phoenix.”

“God knows I ain’t no saint. But I’ve been around a long time. Seen it again and again.” Phoenix wagged her head slowly. “I’ve had a belly full of little girls should be worrying about algebra and zits; instead, they’re off the bus and straight into the life.”

I knew exactly what she meant. Every day teens from Spartanburg, St-Jovite, or Sacramento head to Charlotte, Montreal, or L.A. to be models or rock stars or to escape abuse or boredom or poverty back home. Every day pimps cruise the bus and train stations, watching for backpacks and hopeful faces. Like the predators they are, these animals swoop in, offering a photo shoot, a party, a meal at Taco Bell.

Most of these kids end up junkies and whores, their Hollywood dreams becoming hellish realities of dealers and daily fixes and paddy wagons and pimps. The unluckiest arrive toes-up at the morgue.

Every time I see one of these children, I go numb with anger. But I have come to understand. Though I despise the human destruction, the carnage, I am powerless to stop it. Nevertheless, I care. I feel grief and always will.

I refocused on Phoenix.

“—three years go by. I figure Annaliese either got herself killed by one of these women-hating sickos, or else she got out.” Phoenix picked tobacco from her tongue and flicked it. “Two days ago she shows up looking like a train wreck, asking for a place to crash. Leaving her on the street was like throwing raw meat to wolves. If taking her in’s a crime, arrest me.”

“Is she still at the Paradise Resort?”

Phoenix shrugged.

“Annaliese needs more help than you can provide.” Ryan brought sincere to a whole new level.

“My shift don’t end until two. I gotta have those tips.”

Ryan looked at Ollie, who dipped his chin.

“We only need permission to enter your room,” Ryan said.

“You won’t take nothing?”

“Of course not.”

“Mr. Kalasnik don’t like no kind of fuss.”