Gaylene Parker was somewhere in her mid-forties. A short African-American woman with an unfussy haircut and little makeup, she oozed veteran weariness. With the department for over twenty years, shed worked her way up from street cop to detective to undercover vice to leading that unit. Shed even helped out HSS on occasion when they were short-handed.

Jessie always found her to be straightforward and competent with a no-nonsense attitude that was refreshing. But she was also extremely protective of her unitboth its people and its reputation. Even before she spoke, Jessie could see that she was on edge, aware that Vice might be blamed for yesterdays breach of security.

Hows it going, Gaylene? Jessie asked, trying to avoid starting off adversarial.

To be honest, Ive been better, Jessie. Im having one of those days. You know about those, dont you?

I do, Jessie assured her. Im having one of them myself. I was kind of hoping we might help each other out on that.

What did you have in mind?

Well, Jessie said, treading carefully so as not to alienate a possible ally or adversary, I know youre probably as frustrated as me about what happened yesterday. And I know Decker is trying to get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, Im hoping youve had some success in finding leads on the case itself.

Im waiting for the part where you help me out, Parker said, not sounding especially accommodating.

Jessie could feel the irritation rising in her chest. She was the one who had secured the trust of a skittish potential witness. She brought in the Marla lead. She had a possible suspect using all his power to shut this down. What else was she supposed to do?

Im happy to run down any leads you have in mind, she said evenly. Im already in the thick of it with a potential suspect, one I assume Decker briefed you on.

Heres the problem, Hunt, Parker said, apparently deciding they were no longer on a first name basis. Im trying to make sure my own house is clean. At the same time, Im trying to investigate the circumstances of a detectives death, one from another division, without getting noticed. And Im being asked to figure out if a mysterious, anonymous teenage girl was being trafficked by one of the most powerful men in the world. So my plates a little full.

Jessies reservoir of patience was just about full too. She took a deep breath before responding, hoping to take one last swing at amicability.