Jerry went to the cafeteria for a cup and discovered he didn’t want to drink it.

He nodded at a hospital rent-a-cop and checked the time. He was supposed to be back in his car, but figured the duty sergeant wouldn’t care if he started his report here instead of trying to do it in the car with the heater going full blast.

Not that he had much to report.

Tessa Smothers. Twenty-four, lives over on Clairemont with her ten-year old kid. Frostbite, malnourished, denied using. Started screaming at him when he hinted maybe she’d been rolled by a john, seemed sincere.

But the main thing: her face, neck, hands and forearms were covered with welts she claimed were bug bites even though it was below freezing outside. Like she was fooling him: they tased everyone who took nonlethal force training.

But she wouldn’t give him a name. Just said it was bugs and looked at her hands.

He shook his head. The only thing he wanted more than a cigarette right now was five minutes with whoever had done the number on the girl.