Page 2 of Justice for Radar

“What’re you thinking?” I asked. She tore her deep brown eyes off of the woman across the diner and put them firmly on me.

“I’m thinking we ought to help her,” she said with a shrug. “She’s a nice woman. I’ve talked to her a lot this week. She came in for lunch while that asshole was working. I hate to see her like this.”

“Baby, she’s a citizen. How do we know this isn’t some kind of grift?” I asked.

Lucia rolled her eyes at me and said, “I’m your daughter. I would know, and honestly, you should go talk to her. She doesn’t know anyone here. She’s pretty broke at the moment, and will you just look at her?”

I turned back and took her in. She had long dark hair, but she wasn’t Latina. No, she was a white girl and I hated to say it, but most white girls were trouble. Still, she looked so pathetic over there it certainly tugged at the heartstrings a bit.

She wasn’t old, but she wasn’t exactly young, either. I would have to place her in her thirties somewhere, but low or high? That I couldn’t quite tell just by looking at her from across the diner.

“Please, Dad?”

I turned back to my daughter and the pleading on her face and in her eyes did me in.

“Alright,” I grumbled. “Let’s see what’s up.”

I pushed to my feet and went across the diner, Lucia hurrying around the counter and catching up to me.

“Jussy,” she said gently, and the woman looked up, startled out of her silent, tearful staring out the front window.

“Yes?” she asked softly. She had a nice voice.

“This is my dad. Everybody calls him Radar,” she said, and I gave a bit of a neutral nod.

“Hi, Justice. Mind if I sit?” I asked.

“He can maybe help you figure some things out,” Lucia offered, and Justice smiled up at her.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “And yes, of course.” She gestured at the seat across from her and I moved her bag off of it and under the table, taking a seat.

I studied her a moment, and she was beautiful now that I got a look at her up close. She was definitely on the low end of her thirties. Her hands were elegant, and her nails manicured, but natural, and I liked that, too. Her makeup, though streaking, wasn’t caked on and I could appreciate that. She was a natural beauty and didn’t feel the need to play it up to excess.

“Want to tell me what happened?” I asked, and her expression became guarded in an instant. I held up my hands and said, “I’m not here to judge. I promise you that. I’m just here to listen and to maybe come up with a way to fix the problem.”

She bit her lips together and rolled them back and forth, trying to decide. I waited her out patiently because I could tell, she’d been through it and was running seriously low on trust like a scared cat. Although, luring a person out of their mistrust and fear was a lot harder than just waving some food at them. The waiting them out part still rang true for any creature, though.

“Um, I don’t know where to start,” she said with a nervous laugh.

“How about at the beginning?” I suggested.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly and said, “Um, I recently got out of a really bad relationship, and, um, I started dating again sort of – er, I picked up one of those dating apps on my phone…” she nearly ducked as though she expected yelling or even a blow to come out of me. I held still. I didn’t want to cross my arms or give her any kind of indication that I disapproved or any such shit. That wasn’t going to get me what I wanted, which was her story.

When all she got out of me was careful neutrality, she cleared her throat and went on, “I started talking to Billy, but he was, um, far away.”

I smiled encouragingly and gave a nod. She went on. Her nervous use of the word “um” was endearing and almost cute to be honest.

“He was on a job in Las Vegas, and we started talking, like a lot. Every day, in fact, and agreed to meet up when he came back in my direction. We, uh, did and…” She blushed, and I had to guess she’d probably gotten freaky with him on the first date. But hell, who didn’t when the circumstances were right? Still no judgment here.

She took a sip of her drink and swallowed hard and wrong. She almost choked, but pulled out of it after a moment.

“You alright?” I asked her.

She nodded and held a napkin to her mouth.

“Take your time,” I told her. “It’s all good. I get it – strong attraction, it’s hard not to be when you talk to someone for so long before meeting them. There’s a certain amount of comfort there. It’s not really like meeting them for the first time. You’ve got an established rapport like that. Certainly not like this here,” I said, gesturing back and forth.

“Yeah,” she murmured, nodding without looking at me. That was okay. If it helped her to get the story out, she didn’t have to look at me. Truth be told, her body language had my senses tingling. She reminded me low-key of Faith – certainly not as bad as when we’d first gotten a hold of Faith, but some of the same traumatized mannerisms and shit were there. Made me want to ask “who hurt you?”but I was sure all that was going to get me was Justice shutting down and not wanting to talk anymore about it or about anything. I didn’t like being counterproductive when I could help it.

---