Page 5 of The Presidents Shadow

“Lay it on me,” Maddy tells him, thinking it didn’t sound terribly different from what she was already doing.

“Here’s what you need to do,” he says. “Download the Justice Systems General Form app on your cell phone and get yourself over to the 19th Precinct. There’s a young woman over there who’s coming up for a pre-bail evaluation. Try to get some info out of her. And don’t let her bullshit you. Happy now?” he asks, no smile, no charm.

“I’m all over it,” Maddy says, and she can’t believe she’s given such a corny response.

“Yeah, sure,” R.J. says. “And, oh, by the way, on your way back could you pick up my clean shirts at Valley Cleaners downstairs?”

Maddy is about to say something, but R.J. speaks, still serious. “Just kidding,” he says.

But Maddy’s not sure that he is.

CHAPTER 7

ACCORDING TO MADDY’S police-assigned handheld screen, the young woman’s name is Belinda Miller. Maddy buys that.

Maddy’s screen also says that Belinda Miller’s age is eighteen. Maddy is not buying that. This woman… girl… could easily be thirteen or fourteen. Certainly not much older than fifteen.

They sit across from each other on junky folding chairs.

“My name is Maddy. I’m with the New York City public defender’s office, and I’m here to help you fill out some forms for your hearing.”

Maddy waits for a response from this snarly girl with the bloodshot eyes and long, greasy blond hair. But Belinda doesn’t even bother to look at Maddy. Instead she twists around in the folding chair and focuses on the cement wall behind her. Belinda is silent, and it’s fairly obvious to Maddy that she doesn’t plan to participate in this meeting.

Maddy is a combination of nervous and angry and anxious,but she stays determined. She waits exactly thirty seconds, and then she tries all over again.

“Look, Belinda, we’re going to get this thing filled out one way or another,” Maddy says, and she’s surprised at her own tough voice. Still no response from Belinda. Maddy tries again. Then Maddy decides to yell.

“I’m the only person in this building who is actually here to help you,” Maddy shouts. “So turn around in your damn chair and look at me.”

Belinda doesn’t turn around, but she does twist her neck and she takes a good look at Maddy, as if the only type of language she responds to is yelling. Finally she speaks.

“Wanna help? Get me the hell out of this place.”

“That’s exactly what I want to do.”

“Yeah, that’s what everyone wants to do. That’s why the cops arrest us low-level dealers trying to pick up some cash, but nobody does shit about the big-shot scum doing the worst things.”

Maddy tries to show how tuned-in she is.

“You mean your bosses are dealing drugs? Sorry, but you don’t exactly look like a drug dealer.”

“Lady, that’s the point,” Belinda says, rolling her eyes. “The smart ones figured out a long time ago having a bunch of shady-looking men standing on the street was like waving a red flag. But some young girls wandering around with ice-cream cones—who questions them? Anyways, if I told you anything, they’d kill me, and you might not make it out in great shape neither.”

Maddy feels some random power building up inside her. She’s going to help this girl. At the very least she’s going to get information that might clue her in to what Belinda’s talking about.

“C’mon. I can help you if you level with me,” Maddy says, and she means it.

Belinda turns her face toward the wall again.

“Give yourself a break,” Maddy says.

Belinda says nothing.

“My department can help,” Maddy says, remembering the young woman she’d accidentally killed using her mind power. If she saves a different one, does it cancel that out?

But Belinda has totally stopped talking.

“I have friends, good friends who aren’t cops who really can help you,” Maddy says. She can’t even imagine Lamont stepping into this rat’s nest. But she’ll figure out how to deal with that later.

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