“Thanks.” Stella summed up her homicide investigation on Missy Green. “I found a recent call number in Missy’s phone that I recognized as one of my former informants. Gianna Leone was a prostitute and a heroin addict. She overdosed a year ago. Her customer actually called it in. When I arrived, she was barely breathing. Thank God we’re equipped with Narcan.”

Naloxone, brand name Narcan, was an opioid antagonist nasal spray used to reverse the effects of an overdose.

“It saved her life, but unfortunately, Gianna was left with irreversible kidney damage from years of heroin abuse.” Stella parked in front of a grocery store. “She comes from a very rough background.” Grabbing her purse, she got out of the car.

Mac followed her into the store as she grabbed a basket and headed for the dairy aisle. “Errands?”

“Not for me. Gianna is on kidney dialysis and disability now.” Stella selected a quart of milk.

Mac took the basket from her. “So you bring her food.”

“Occasionally. She’s come a long way, and she has no support. No father in the picture ever. Her mother was a prostitute. Gianna started hooking when she was thirteen.” Stella added eggs and bread and a few other staples, then crossed to the prepared food section and selected a family-size portion of fettuccine Alfredo and a chocolate cupcake.

Nice mom. “What happened to her mother?”

“She’s in prison for cooking meth.”

Mac unloaded the items in the checkout lane. “You sure this is enough?”

“She only has a mini fridge.” Stella knew this Gianna pretty well.

After checking out of the store, she drove a few miles and parked in front of a dialysis center.

Surprised, Mac scanned the front of the medical building. “We’re going to question her here?”

Stella lowered the front door windows and turned off the engine. The air was still. Heat began to build in the car immediately. “No. She should be done in the next few minutes. She doesn’t have a car. She lives close and walks to the center, but she’s exhausted when she comes out of dialysis.”

“So you drive her home?” It didn’t surprise him.

Stella squinted though the windshield, her gaze scanning the sidewalk. “If I happen to be nearby.”

Mac bet Stella happened to be nearby as often as possible.

The door opened and a coltish, dark-haired girl stepped out. “There she is.”

“She looks like a teenager.” Mac knew the realities of teens and drug use, and every damaged kid showed him the importance of his reconnaissance in Brazil. Going back to the jungle would be dangerous, but wasn’t the outcome worth the risk? Mac didn’t have a wife or kids to support. Wasn’t it better that he take the risk than a man who would leave a family behind?