She squeezed the back of her neck. Frank had never worked rape, but she didn't think she'd be very good at it. Handling pain wasn't her forte. Dead was dead, and in homicide she didn't have to deal with the victim's wounds.
An answering machine at the next number took her message. Before she could dial again, Diego came in about an extradition case. Frank was getting him started on the forms when Bobby leaned into the doorway.
"We're all going to the Sizzler for lunch. Want to go?"
Diego nodded, but Frank indicated the case folders stacked next to her.
"Can't," she said, pulling a ten out of the wallet in her back pocket. "But bring me back something, a salad."
"What sort of salad?"
Bobby was very thorough. He would want a detailed list.
"Anything green."
"What sort of dressing?"
"I don't care. Surprise me."
"What—"
"Come on," Diego said, snatching up the money. "I'll get the friggin' salad."
The squad room was suddenly quiet, and Frank picked up the phone. The fourth girl was Jessica Orenthaler. The girl's mother answered. She started crying before Frank could even tell her what she wanted. Frank waited her out, listening to the phone ring in the squad room. When Mrs. Orenthaler quieted down, Frank started to explain the circumstances. Mrs. Orenthaler hung up almost immediately.
Contemplating Claudia Menendez, Frank found nothing remarkable about the child's appearance. She was slight and doe-eyed, with a suggestion of a pallor, and Frank wondered if she didn't go outside much anymore. She and Noah sat at an angle from Claudia on plastic-covered chairs, while the girl nestled between her parents on a matching couch. The only hint of her recent trauma was the way she snuggled into her mother like a much younger child might.
Frank made the introductions, explaining why they needed to ask more questions. The previous interviews had dealt mostly with physical factors about the assault, but because she and Noah were interested in constructing a psychological profile of the assailant, they needed to ask some different questions. Frank pointed out that they wouldn't be nice questions. The parents agreed, and Frank let Noah start. There was a gentleness about him that put people at ease, and maybe because he had three of his own, he was especially good at interviewing kids. The girl looked reluctant, but her father patted her leg and she gamely launched into a quiet recounting. Noah had a list of questions, but he waited for Claudia to finish before asking them. He explained that although the questions might seem silly or dumb, each answer told them something about the man they were looking for.
"Can you remember him touching you anywhere else, except for where he grabbed you and hurt you? This is real important, so take your time and think about it. Don't rush."
Claudia pulled her teeth over her bottom lip and gazed at the coffee table. She shook her head no.
"You're sure?"
Claudia nodded.
"Okay, that's good, that's real good. Another thing that we need to know is if he pulled your pants up before he let you go."
They could see she was struggling to remember, but Mr. Menendez answered for her.
"When she came back to us her clothes were all on. We thought she'd just fallen down or something."
"Do you remember pulling your pants back up, Claudia?"
She wagged her head, still puzzled, then said almost in a whisper, "I think he pulled them up."
"You think so?" Noah encouraged.
Again she nodded, but they could tell she was uncertain.
"Okay. You're doing great," Noah smiled. "Can you handle some more questions?"
He waited for her assent before asking if the man had said anything to her, and her answer was certain.
"I tried to scream, but he had his arm around my throat so tight I couldn't breathe and he told me to shut up or he'd kill me. I was scared so I didn't say nothing else. And I couldn't hardly breathe," she added apologetically.
"Did he say anything else to you besides shut up or he'd kill you?"
Her brown hair shook emphatically.
"Did he ask you to say anything?"
Again a shake of the brown head. Mr. Menendez was getting restless. Noah said, more to him than Claudia, "Okay, darling. Hang in there, you're doing really well and we're almost done. Can you answer a few more?"
Again Claudia glanced up at her mom for reassurance and was heartened by a warm smile. The last questions were the hardest for everybody. Noah asked ugly questions as gently as he could, but finally the fear and shame and horror caught up to Claudia. Tears slid down her face, but Noah pressed on, promising her he was almost through.
At last, he reached across the table and cupped her face in his long hand. "Alright, honey, that's all. You did a really great job. You told us a lot about the man who hurt you. You helped us a lot."
The girl buried her face against her mother while Noah looked expectantly at Frank. She rose and extended her hand to Mr. Menendez.
"You've got a fine daughter. We're awfully sorry to have stir this all up again, but she's been a big help."
Mr. Menendez followed the detectives to the doorway, asking specific questions that they weren't free to answer.
"This must be very frustrating for you, not having any answers or resolution. I promise we'll keep you advised one way or another."
Mr. Menendez was grateful, and so were the detectives once they were in their car and on the highway.
"Jesus, that was fun," Noah said bitterly.
"Want me to drive?" Frank offered.
"No!" he snapped. Pointing through the windshield to an economy tire store decorated with tinsel and Christmas greetings, he ranted, "Look at all this shit! Can you believe it? It's not even Thanksgiving yet and everybody's got their fucking Christmas stuff up already. Jesus! Whatever happened to the pilgrims and turkeys and fall leaves?"
Frank started to return her beeper calls but thought better of it. Noah was letting off steam, and she decided to humor him even though all she wanted right now was to go home, box for an hour, slam a six-pack, and slip into a torpor.
"Well, let's see. First off, this is L.A. There aren't any fall leaves and it's been a long time since I saw pilgrims around here. More importantly, though, there's no money in Thanksgiving. Even Halloween's a bigger moneymaker than Thanksgiving."
"That's my whole goddamn point!" Noah banged on the steering wheel. "Fucking prick. I swear to you, Frank, if anybody ever so much as touches a hair on one of my daughters I'm gonna kill him."
Frank nodded solemnly. "I'll help you."
They drove in silence for a while, both processing the interview with Claudia Menendez. Neither would come right out and say it had been hard to watch her, and harder for Noah to ask the questions. There was a code of silence about seeing pain or feeling it. Pain was part of being a cop and it was expected to be borne stoically and without complaint. This was the LAPD—whiners were not allowed.
Frank sighed quietly, then punched a number into the cell phone. She cut a glance at Noah, who seemed somewhere else.
She poked him in the arm.
"Five bucks says you can't eat two Big Macs and a large fries."
"Five bucks says how can you be that dumb and still be a lieutenant?"
Frank introduced herself to Heidi Troupe's mother on the cell phone. She reluctantly agreed to let them come over after dinner. The second number was busy. Noah picked up on his Christmas tirade again. Just before they reached Alissa Aguilar's apartment Frank redialed and received permission for another interview.