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said.
    “ Tough life, isn’t it? Where is she?”
    “ Haven’t finished my coke.” He took another slow drag on the can. “What do you think of Candy?” he asked, nodding towards the dancer on stage.
    I took a quick look and caught her stifling a yawn as she lifted a leg. “Doesn’t look like she’s putting out much effort,” I said.
    Rude frowned. “I can’t understand that type of work ethic.”
    “ Yeah, it’s a shame.”
    “ Damn right.” Rude drained the rest of his coke and threw the can at the dancer. She ducked and sent Rude a nasty glare. “You better show some life up there,” he yelled at her. “Or I’ll boot your fat ass out the door.” A couple of customers hooted in agreement. Candy started shaking her body a little more energetically, her small black eyes smoldering with anger.
    “ You gotta help put some passion into their work,” Rude said with a wink. “Let me give you what you paid for.”
    I followed him to a storage closet in the back of the bar. He unlocked it and showed me Debra Singer sitting on the floor, knees pulled tight to her chest. By her feet were a sandwich, a bag of potato chips and a can of coke. She glanced up at me, her eyes small blue ice chunks, then looked away.
    “ Came by a couple of hours ago looking for employment,” Rude said. “I’d like you to know, I’m not charging you for the food.”
    “ You got a heart of gold.” I crouched next to Debra. My heart was pounding. I said to her, “I wish you had stayed put. I promised you I’d take care of things.”
    “ I’m not going back,” she murmured weakly.
    “ He’s not home. He’s in a hospital now.”
    She turned to me, eyes wide.
    “ I guess he fell down a staircase. If you ever see him again, give me a call and I promise you he’ll fall down a much longer and steeper one.”
    Tears burst out of her. I helped her to her feet. Her shoulders seemed so tiny and frail that I worried they might crumble into dust. As I walked her out of the place, Rude got next to me, looking sheepish.
    “ You’re going to write about this, right?”
    “ Any reason I shouldn’t?”
    He licked his lips, watching me carefully. “You going to mention how I really found her?”
    “ You want me to?”
    He lowered his eyes. “It would be a nice thing to send my mom.”
    I pretended to consider it and then shook my head. “Sorry, I’d have to make a few editorial changes. I wouldn’t want my readers knowing I associate with the likes of you. It could hurt my image.”
    Of course I wasn’t planning on writing about it. I couldn’t afford to. Not with my agreement with Craig Singer. But it didn’t mean I couldn’t needle Rude. As I left with Debra, I heard him suggest what I could do with my column. I don’t see much point in spelling out the details, not with them being as vulgar as they were.
    Before taking Debra home, we stopped off for some pizza. She surprised me and ate a couple of slices. We talked for a quite a while. I explained how even with the rotten deal she’d had, she could still be okay. It would be an upward struggle for her, but hell, it was an upward struggle for us all. I told her I knew folks who’d had it just as rotten and somehow survived and did okay in life. Maybe even better than okay. Before we left, I gave her what remained of the three-thousand-dollar bonus her father had paid me. I mentioned she could use it for counseling.
    When I brought her home, her mother answered the door. She didn’t say a word to either of us. Her mouth was squeezed into a tight oval, her eyes full of hate. Debra started to say something, then clammed up and ran past her, disappearing into the house.
    “ Don’t you ever show up here again,” Mrs. Singer warned me.
    “ Your daughter needs help right now. She needs you to—”
    She slammed the door in my face.
    I stood there for quite a while. I don’t know how long exactly, maybe ten minutes, maybe twenty. In any case, it took that long before I