Her name was Madison. She’d run away to get away from the father’s abuse. I rather thought I could find somebody to help her.
I would certainly look into it. I went home that night with a lot to think about, but still no closer to solving the actual problem.
And I went to bed fairly late, which meant that when the phone rang at 6am the next morning…on a Sunday…I almost smashed it.
Kanesha looked about to do the same thing. “It’s Zaid,” I told her.
“Do they have an emergency?”
“Apparently.” I turned my attention to the phone. “Zaid, what’s up?”
“Could…use your help.”
“It’s 6am, it had better be important.”
“It is.”
“Where are you?”
“Diner in Crystal City.”
I knew the one they meant – a couple of doors down from the gay bar. “We’re on our way. Order us breakfast. Kanesha?”
“French toast,” she said sleepily, already getting dressed. “Two orders of French toast.”
I then hung up and got dressed. I knew Zaid. They weren’t an asshole. They wouldn’t be calling at 6am without a good reason.
Especially on a Sunday. And maybe it would be another problem I could do something about. On the way I filled Kanesha in about the problem in Georgetown.
“Hrm. Cops won’t help that much. I mean, Mike…”
“I know. But maybe we can give the guy such a scare he at least goes and harasses women somewhere else.”
“Maybe.”
We made it across the bridge from DC to Arlington. Even at 6am there was traffic, although I was sure a lot of them were going to early morning church services.
I parked at a meter and we jogged up the street to the diner.
Zaid was sitting at a corner table, and somebody had beaten them up.
“Ow. So, you need us to get the other guy?”
“No, I took care of him. But he apparently has friends.”
And they were targeting Zaid. “Are they targeting you because you’re a priest or because you’re, you know?”
“The latter,” they admitted ruefully. “I’m doubling up on wards, but…”
“We’re a heck of a lot more intimidating than you are.” Putting the fear of gods into bigots for Zaid? Another thing I could handle.
Another distraction, but I wasn’t complaining. I felt as if I was actually doing something worthwhile.
For once.