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silently fumed at me.
    I studied the photo. At first, it didn’t look familiar. I looked closer. The tattoo, a common rose design, showed single name, Tameka. “I don’t recognize the tattoo, but the name on it,” I said.
    “Is Tameka one of your residents ?” he asked.
    “No,” I said , “that’s not her name. Tameka is her daughter.”
    Skinner sighed, looked at his watch, and rolled his head. “What’s the hooker’s name?” Skinner asked impatiently. He acted like the victim didn’t matter. Cops like him made people distrust the system.
    I felt the urge to lob my pen at Skinner. His demeanor annoyed me. “Her name is,” I said, looking directly at King, ignoring Skinner, “Penny Roil.” I felt the acid in my throat. I swallowed to keep the sickness down.
    “Is she a resident here?” King asked.
    “She was, a few years ago, but she’s been clean for almost two years now.”
    “That you know of ,” Skinner said.
    “She’s been clean and off the streets ,” I said. Skinner looked at me like I was delusional.
    “When was the last time you saw her?” King asked.
    “About a month ago,” I said. “She brought the baby in. Where’s the baby now?”
    “I don’t know ,” King replied.
    I teetered on the edge of frenzy. My voice rose. “You have to find out what happened to the baby,” I said. I worried about the baby.
    “We’ ll find the baby. What’s her name, Tameka?” King placed his hand over mine to stop the shaking. “Ms. Williams, it’s important you tell us anything you might know.”
    “I will,” I hiccupped between sobs . “I don’t know how much I can help.”
    “When you saw her last, did Ms. Roil mention anything new or seem different ?” Detective King asked.
    “What do you mean?”
    “Did she seem like she was using again?”
    “No.”
    “Did she mention any new people in her life?” he asked. “A new boyfriend or anything?”
    “No ,” I said. I racked my brain to remember. “Actually, she did mention how unhappy she was working at the Mega Mart.”
    “Was she unhappy enough to go back to the streets?”
    “No, I don’t think so. She knew that would get the baby taken away again.”
    Skinner made a disgusted sound. “These people should not be allowed to breed.” King shot his partner an angry look. “I mean…”
    I glared at Skinner. “I know what you meant.” I snapped. Skinner was a complete Philistine. King seemed like a decent guy. The partnership seemed unnatural. How could they be partners?
    After about an hour of routine questions, the two men couldn’t think of anything else to ask. “Please let me know when you find the baby ,” I said, as I escorted them to the foyer.
    “I will.” King said. King and Skinner left.
    Nessie stood at the front desk when they left. Once sure the two men were out of ear shot, she grabbed my arm. “Be careful, Miss. Cassie,” she said in a hushed voice. “I know that white cop.” She referred to Detective Skinner. “He was a Vice Cop back in my street days. He’s a real mean sum’ bitch! I ain’t lying.” I didn’t argue. I knew his type of self-righteous cop, who worked to discredit others who didn’t agree with him. “He’s on my list,” Nessie said.
    “Your list?” I asked.
    “I got me a list of people who I’d like to see beat down someday.”
    “I hope I’m not on that list.”
    “Course you ain’t on my list,” Nessie said. She pointed to her face. “Numba’ one is the bastard who did this to me.” She pointed to the parking lot. “Numba’ two is Skinner. He’d shake me down every chance he got.”
    Skinner’s corruption didn’t surprise me. Several years ago, a crackdown on corruption rocked in the police department. Many cops went down, many from Vice. Reporters dubbed them the “Good Ol’ Boy club.” The investigations uncovered corruption up the chain of command to the police chief himself.
    I knew several officers at the police department, but I didn’t know