“And you obviously think he’s guilty?”

“You’re goddamn right.” Her mouth twitched just a bit, her eyes not meeting mine. “Of course.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mattie said. “You tossed her in the fucking garbage and wouldn’t help her. Mickey was her friend.”

“Mattie, you were ten years old,” Theresa said. “You don’t know how I tried. It didn’t amount to shit. She was sick in the head, kid. She didn’t want help from nobody.”

“That’s crap,” Mattie said. “She was headed for that rehab place.”

“’Cause the judge made her.”

Theresa squashed a cigarette under her heel. She lit another. The convenience store was brightly lit with hard, artificial light over rows and rows of cheap food and soda. The stuff probably had a shelf life into the next millennium. The air smelled of overcooked hot dogs, stale smoke, and old grease.

“You know anyone who was still friendly with her when she died?”

Smoke escaped out of the corner of a smile on Theresa’s face. “Sure.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Mickey Green and about a hundred other guys.”

“Bitch,” Mattie said. Her face flushed, and her eyes grew bright. She was biting the inside of her cheek again. “You’re a liar.”

“Your mom liked men,” Theresa said. “Sue me.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate your help,” I said to Mattie. “But would you mind waiting for me outside?”

“Hell I will,” Mattie said. “I got the right to hear her lies.”

An old woman walked into the store, and Theresa found her way back to the register and locked the door behind her. The old woman wore a spiffy rabbit-fur coat over a flowered housedress. She bought twenty dollars’ worth of lottery tickets, a carton of Newports, and an Us Weekly magazine. Brad and Angelina were having relationship issues. Charlie Sheen was headed back to rehab.

Mattie dropped her head and lowered her shoulders and barreled out the front door. I walked in front of the Plexiglas and gave Theresa the million-dollar smile. The full wattage of my charisma was needed to repair the damage.

“You should be ashamed of yourself,” she said.

“I heard if I don’t stop, I’ll go blind.”

“You shouldn’t take that little girl’s money.”

“What kind of best friend were you to Julie Sullivan?” I asked.

The question hung there for a moment in the smoke. She glared at me.

“Surely you’ve heard of two local baddies named Pepper and Moon?” I asked. “Or don’t you allow riffraff in here?”

She smoked the cigarette down to a nub as she studied me. Smoke fogged the inside of the bulletproof cubicle. She shook her head. The glass had yellowed with age and smoke. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“The million-dollar smile usually works.”

“You know what kind of shit you’re kicking up? That little girl walks around Southie and starts asking questions about those two and pretty soon you’ll see her picture on the back of a milk carton.”

“So you know them?”

“Sure.”

“And they’re bad guys.”

“Hannibal Lecter was a bad guy,” Theresa said. “These guys are evil.”

“But you don’t believe they had anything to do with Mattie’s mom?”

“What’s the difference?” she asked. “They were friends with Mickey Green. They all lived together in a three-decker over on G Street. They sold crack and heroin. That was Julie’s candy store, where she’d do about anything to get a hot shot. You see what I’m sayin’?”

I nodded. “Where can I find them now?”

“I haven’t seen them in years,” she said. “I don’t care what Mattie thinks, I don’t want to be dragged into this. I got bill collectors on my ass and a dad who’s got the dementia.”

“Mattie says Mickey wasn’t with her mom that night.”

“How would she know?”

“Who were her regular friends before she was killed?’

“You check Four Green Fields?”

“Yep.”

“You keep asking there and you’ll find people who knew Jules. Good-time Jules. Lots of folks knew her.”

“What about away from the pub?”

“You check with Gate of Heaven?”

I shook my head.

“Priest there did some kind of outreach thing,” Theresa said. “I heard she was getting better before she got worse. Mattie wasn’t wrong about that.”

“When did she make the turn?”

“She’d always been wild,” she said, finding a seat on a wooden stool by the register. Her voice sounded distant behind the glass. “But she stopped having any pride in herself after this car accident. I mean, she would’ve never given a guy like Mickey Green the time of day. He followed her around like a kid, walking her home from the store, fixing shit in their apartment.”

“What car accident?”

“I don’t know everything,” she said. “It was like ten years ago. I just know it messed her up. Got her more into drugs and shit. Then she got straightened out again after the twins. A real roller-coaster thing.”

“You know Mattie’s father?”

“No,” Theresa said. “And neither did Jules.”

I nodded.

Theresa turned her head to the parking lot where Mattie sat on the hood of my car. It was getting late, and the streetlamps on Old Colony started to flicker to life. Mattie was smoking a cigarette and staring at nothing. She looked very small and awkward fiddling with the lighter. Her coat seemed ill fitting and shapeless and brought to mind Paul once again.

“Don’t get her hopes up, okay?” Theresa said. “I heard she was spreading rumors about those guys, and that doesn’t do nobody any good.”

“You know their real names?”

“Moon is just Moon,” she said. “Big fat guy. Looks like a whale. He used to be a bouncer at Triple O’s before it closed.”

Three teenage boys strolled and smirked inside and tried to buy a six-pack and some condoms. Theresa sold the boys the condoms and they shirked away. I walked over to the bubble gum aisle and looked for some Bazooka. They didn’t carry it. Bazooka Joe would have offered guidance.

I walked back to the register.

Theresa turned off the intercom and leaned to the cutout in the Plexi. “Red Cahill. They call him Pepper.”

I nodded. She studied my face and let out a long breath.

“These are some seriously connected people who don’t like old shit being kicked up.”

“Connected to whom?”

“‘Whom’?” Theresa asked. “You gonna buy anything? ’Cause if not, you can’t just loiter around. My heart feels like it’s gonna jump out of my throat talkin’ about this shit.”

I smiled at her. “It’s been a pleasure.”

“Are we finished?” she asked.

8

In the future, how about I handle the questioning,” I said.

“If I hadn’t come with you,” Mattie said, “Theresa wouldn’a said shit.”

“Do you have any idea what happens when I smile at women?”

Mattie didn’t answer.

“It comes with a permit,” I said. “I use it sparingly.”

“She needed a little kick in the ass,” Mattie said, reaching to turn up the heat as we drove. She sank down into the passenger seat, pink Sox cap low over her eyes. She tapped her black-nailed fingers against the window glass as she stared out at the road. The night had grown dark outside the car as we headed south back to the Mary Ellen McCormack.

“How about you just point me in the right direction,” I said. “And I do the legwork.”

“Nope.”

“Thanks for the help,” I said. “But I’m going to have to talk to some rough characters. People of low reputation.”

“Wow,” Mattie said. “I’m scared.”

“You hired me to do a job,” I said. “You need to respect the way I work.”

“You need me,” she said. “I know people.”

“I would have to play shamus and bodyguard,” I said. “I prefer one job at a time. And don’t fool yourself. I know a lot of crummy people, too.”

She didn’t say anything.

“You hungry?” I asked.