Family Honor

Chapter 15

I was talking on the phone to Julie. It was nearly noon. Rosie was sitting on my feet under the desk. Millicent was asleep on the floor at the other end of the loft on an inflatable mattress I kept for guests.

“She’s staying with you?” Julie said.

“Un huh.”

“Do you have any idea what a crimp that will put in your sex life?”

“How much crimpier can it get?” I said.

“It’s already crimped?”

“Big time,” I said.

“I’m crushed. I spent several minutes every day envying you.”

“Spend the time finding me a nice guy who’s good-looking and straight.”

“You’re after my husband?”

“Besides Michael,” I said.

“Oh. I guess that’s kind of hard. Have you met anyone?”

“A pimp named Pharaoh Fox,” I said.

“Pimps can be fun,” Julie said. “How long is she going to stay with you?”

“At least until I find out why she left.”

“You don’t believe she just got fed up?”

“No. She was lying about that.”

“You’re sure.”

“I’m a licensed investigator,” I said.

“Of course. How are you going to find out?”

“I’m a licensed investigator.”

“You know, some kids leave home to punish the parents.”

“I know.”

“So that the more degrading and shocking their circumstances, the more horrified the parents are. And the more horrified the parents are, the more desirable the circumstances.”

“Sort of like suicides,” I said. “‘See what you’ve made me do.”’

“Do you like her?” Julie said.

“No.”

“Why not.”

“I can’t say.”

“Because you don’t know or because she might hear you?”

“The latter.”

“Is she angry and hostile.”

“Yes.”

“Hates her parents?”

“You bet.”

“And every other adult.”

“I’d guess so.”

“Including you?”

“More or less, though I think there’s some puzzlement.”

“Because you don’t give her the adult party line?”

“Something like that.”

Julie laughed.

“You’ve never bought the adult party line yourself, Sunny.”

“And my mother certainly has tried to sell it to me.”

“So maybe you and, what’s her name, Millicent, are a good match.”

“I’ve got to be better than Pharaoh Fox,” I said.

“Who?”

“The gentleman who represented her,” I said.

“Her pimp.”

“Yes.”

“You know, there’s one thing you ought to remember,” Julie said. Her voice dropped a little as she shifted into her professional mode. “Some women rather like being whores, if the circumstances are not too degrading. They like the physical sensation, they like the easy money, they like the semblance of male attention.”

“What’s not to like?” I said.

“A lot, as you well know. But in many cases, these women are able to distance themselves from the actuality of their situation.”

“And,” I said, “in some cases they’re lesbians.”

“The ultimate manipulation of men,” Julie said. “Do you think Millicent is a lesbian?”

“I have no way to know,” I said.

“It would explain some things,” Julie said.

“Can’t work that way,” I said. “Find the explanation and fit the circumstances to it. It’s got to be the other way around.”

“Well, you can keep the possibility in mind.”

At the other end of the loft, Millicent, still in her shorts and tank top, dragged herself out of bed and went into the bathroom.

“I better hang up now,” I said. “My guest will be wanting breakfast.”

“Breakfast? It’s twenty of one in the afternoon.”

“She’s been working nights,” I said.