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seventeen but you were just too scared.”
    “Forget you.” I cut my eyes at Peaches.
    “Remember I was dating his friend, super-fine Sidney, but I wasn’t the scary type, don’tcha know!”
    We both laughed, then high-fived each other.
    “Peaches you were such a fast girl! We just knew you were going to turn up pregnant!”
    “Nah!” Peaches laughed, “I fooled y’all. I waited till I was an old lady in my thirties before I had my baby Satch. But damn if I don’t wish I was still hanging with Sidney. I heard boyfriend is an accountant in Atlanta now, happily married, and doing real well.”
    “That’s nice, wish A.J. could have turned out like that. Does he still live with his mother?”
    “Naw, she put A.J. out because he was acting crazy. A.J.’s living on the street he says. I know ’cause he stops by here every now and then. I buy him some food in exchange for him sweeping up. Never mentioned it before because it’s so sad to see someone you grew up with hit bottom.”
    After that I tried to relax. I enjoyed the rest of my night at the club clowning with Peaches and accepting free drinks from the regulars. My thoughts, of course, slipped away to my story-the retaliation drive-by for the double murder in Fellows Park. I wondered to myself, What’s going to jump off next, and when?

F O U R
     
    T he “when” turned up two days later.
    It had been two days since the drive-by shooting and I hadn’t had a lead story since.
    I had called the cop shop every couple of hours. Nothing new, they said. No ID on the suspects, which meant there was no lead story there.
    I had called the hospital. Of the five shooting victims, three were still being cared for. One, a teenage girl, remained listed in critical condition. No lead story there, either. Nothing but update material for an anchor to voice-over file tape of the original shooting.
    I had even called Detective Eckart hoping to coax something out of him. It would be a long shot, but I can’t count how many times nagging a long shot has ended up helping me turn a tough story.
    I pictured Detective Eckart each time I called—handsome, gruff, but caring. I couldn’t help but find him interesting, especially after those flirtatious looks. But don’t you know he didn’t return any of my calls? I stared at the phone on my desk. Should I try him again? After a few minutes of indecision, I decided to call him just one more time. I reached for the phone just as it started ringing.
    “Uggggh-huh-huh …” was all I heard when I picked up. Two things I could distinguish immediately—one, it was a woman’s voice, and two, she’d lost it.
    “Hello?” I asked. “Who is this? What’s wrong?” I got focused because whoever was on the line was very afraid and very on edge. “Take a deep breath and pick your words carefully. Speak slowly.”
    “My baby … is … miss … ing … she gone.” Emotion forced the woman’s words out in a misshapen sentence.
    Oh God, some poor woman whose child was missing. I thought of my three-year-old nephew, Satch, Peaches’s boy, and thought of how upset we would all be if he were missing.
    “Ma’am? Ma’am!” I said, trying to calm her. “Take deep breaths. Now wait and just listen. Let’s start over. First, what’s your name?”
    “Kelly Stewart. My baby missing and she don’t be going off by herself no time and won’t nobody—”
    “Kelly, Kelly! Stop a sec. I need you to try to calm down. I know it’s tough. Here, try this: Just answer my questions and that way I’ll be able to get all the facts, okay?”
    “Oh-oh-oh- … kay.”
    I grabbed a pen. “Now, Kelly, where do you live?”
    “Fifty-fifteen South Hedge.”
    She lived in the neighborhood where the drive-by happened two days ago.
    “What’s your daughter’s name?”
    “We named her Kelly, afterah me, her last name is Johnson, afterah her daddy, but ev’rbahdy call her Butter ’cause she love bread and butter sammiches.”
    “How long has