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back.” He sounded disgusted and I already loathed the judgmental man.
    “Anyway, a few people thought he looked like a guy named Yossarian Frazier, but they couldn’t be sure. Apparently this Yossarian character hadn’t been around in a while. One woman thought he had gotten a job and moved away. If the guy in ICU is this Yossarian, the only job he had was of the don’t pick up the soap variety.” He laughed as though he were telling a joke. I tasted bile and thought I was going to be ill.
    “I don’t think a man being almost beaten to death is something to laugh about, Detective,” I spat out, furious at his dispassionate assessment of the Yoss’s situation.
    Detective Preston coughed and sobered a bit. “Well, my partner recognized the name. Said this Yossarian fellow is a street hustler. Has been since he was a kid. He was arrested five years or so ago for solicitation down near the river. That’s a well-known place for johns to pick up their flavor of the day. Yossarian seems a little old to be appealing to the normal sleaze that frequents that area of town. But obviously he’s gotten mixed up with some messed up stuff if this is the same person we brought in last night.”
    “What about his family?” I asked softly. Maybe he had someone, somewhere that would be looking for him. Perhaps his grandmother…
    “Ms. Conner, these people that live at the warehouse don’t have any family. And from the sound of it, this guy had been on the streets for a long time. Any family he has forgot about him a long time ago. If they ever gave a shit to begin with.”
    I bit down on my lip so hard that I tasted blood. “So what happens next?” I asked sharply.
    “Well, that’s why we have you, Ms. Conner. Help the guy get some services or something. I don’t know. But I can tell you that the department just doesn’t have the resources to look into another beaten up rent boy.”
    “That’s horrible! What about the person who did this to him—”
    “I know to you this sounds heartless, but you and I both know that men like this don’t change. He’ll get better, then go back out there, turn tricks, and end up with a shiv in his neck. I’m not being callous. I’m being realistic. So while it’s great that you want to help him, don’t put too much energy into it. We’ll do what we can on this end, but don’t expect miracles. You’ll go home disappointed.”
    “Well, thanks for nothing, Detective,” I snarled.
    “Don’t shoot the messenger, Ms. Conner.”
    I hung up the phone and slammed my palms down on my desk. Maybe I should have confirmed that the man up in ICU was indeed Yossarian Frazier. Perhaps I should let the not so kind detective know that Yoss’s family used to live across town in the fancy Heights development. That his dad was an abusive alcoholic who dressed up during the day as an ad executive and that his mother had died when Yoss was just a little boy.
    I could have told him that the man with his face smashed in didn’t have any brothers or sisters, but at one time he had a grandmother, but I wasn’t sure she was even still alive. That he loved his grandmother so much that he used to visit her every month, without fail, at the residential home where she lived. He never told her that he lived on the streets or that he had run away after being almost beaten to death by his own father. He had never wanted her to worry about him. Particularly since most of the time she lived in a fantasy world, lost in memories, unable to connect with the present.
    But I hadn’t because I knew all of those details that made Yossarian the person that he was, wouldn’t matter to a man like Detective Preston.
    I had thought about him every day for the last fifteen years. Yoss had broken off a big part of me that day in the rain. He had been my moon. My stars. My everything when I had had nothing at all.
    But that day, with my heart in pieces, I had gone home to my mother and a new life had begun.
    I had