Sanfelice said, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“In a sec, hon,” said Milo.

No argument.

Passant said, “The moment you met Des it was pretty clear he was after one thing.”

I said, “Marjorie said he was pretty direct, just came out and asked.”

“At first, I thought it was gross. Like, are you kidding? But the way he did it made it not gross.”

“How so?”

“Not pushy, kind of … friendly. Des made it all real friendly.”

Her foot rested on mine. Pressure just short of pain. I slid away. She smiled.

“Was it a onetime thing, or did—”

“Seven times for me. Lucky seven.”

Bettina Sanfelice gasped.

“I know I told you three, Teen. Didn’t want to freak you out but it was seven. Now you’re gonna ask why wasn’t it eight? I don’t know, it just kind of stopped. Like he’d become my brother or something.”

I said, “Too friendly.”

“Yup.”

“Did Des take you anywhere in particular?”

“Coffee,” she said. “Sometimes food.” Back to caressing my shoe with her sneaker. “Afterward.”

“Was there a particular place for before?”

She faced me. “You really are personal. No, there wasn’t any one place. He took me to sites.”

“Building sites?”

“He just called them sites. Like unfinished buildings, or sometimes there was just dirt, sometimes parts of buildings. When there was just dirt, he had a blanket in his car. Basically, he got off doing it outdoors. A lot of people do.”

I said, “Where were these sites?”

“I don’t know the street, it was dark … they were all in the Valley—is that where he got killed? In the Valley?”

“No,” I said.

“Well, with me it was always in the Valley. He’d pick me up at my apartment, say he had a new site.”

Bettina Sanfelice mumbled unintelligibly.

Sheryl Passant said, “Now you can tell them about Des and you.”

I said, “I think we know enough.”

“You said it was two, Teen. Remember what I said when you told me that? Two for the road. You said he took you to sites, also.”

Sanfelice whimpered.

I said, “We’re fine, Tina—”

Passant reached across the table for her friend’s hand. “Chill, Teen, no one’s going to tell your mom. They don’t care about us, they care about who killed Des.”

“Any ideas about that?”

Both women shook their heads.

I said, “Marjorie Holman told us she and Des had a one-night stand. Do you think that’s true?”

Passant said, “Could be, she’s old and baggy.”

“How did you guys come to be discussing Des?”

“We all had been drinking, you drink, you talk.”

“It wasn’t a business meeting?”

“That’s what she called it. The Notz. Guess it was, because there wasn’t any business—it wasn’t like a real job, you know?”

“No assignments.”