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Jessica's door opens swiftly and Remy rolls through, cigarette half smoked still stuck in his mouth. "Ey. Went down to Mutant Town, fi'in to get pictured of our girl out wit my people. Dere was one guy who tinks he saw her once, and what he tinkin', well…It aint good." Remy jumps headlong into the investigation, rather than sit by idle.
*
Oddly, Remy enters to find Jessica on the phone — one of the accursed past times she attempts to avoid at all opportunities. She sits at attention at the sound of the opening door, and lifts a finger indicating for just a moment before talking back into the mouthpiece, "Look. I don't know what the fuck you're playing at, but stop calling and saying nothing. If you have something to say, fucking say it." A few beats pass, she shakes her head and slams the phone back onto the receiver. "Fucking crank calls."
Sh leans forward to pay attention to Remy, and shifts in the chair. "What does your informant think?" Her eyebrows lift. "Big problems?"
*
"Guy sayin' dat de girl may have ended up as a high priced hooker for de upper class," Remy says with a tilted head. "H'aint sure, but dats de only guy I found dat even thought he saw de girl." Remy's eyebrows crunch as he tips his head to the phone, "Who callin' you?"
*
Jessica's jaw tightens, "So. Big problems," she affirms as her arms cross over her chest. "Alright." The cogs in her mind already begin to work around the big problem at hand. "If that's the case, we're going to have to move on it. High priced call girls, while they're hard to find, it's not impossible. Bet I can find one to hire — I'll talk to Trish. She might be able to get access and from there were can try to get someone in to talk. If she's a working girl, we'll be able to find her through them. They are a network."
Her eyes roll at the question. "No idea. Seventh one this week. Someone thinks they're a fucking jokester."
*
Remy inhales deeply. These sorts of things usually happen once in a while. It's rare that they continue on and on. "Mebbe we get someone to be watchin dat line." He exhales, but it's not like she's going to listen to him anyhow.
*
"Yeah," Jessica replies, "I was starting to think the same thing." Her jaw tightens and her arms cross over her chest. "So." There's a long pause as Jessica's eyes narrow into slits. "You fucking her?" She raises her hands and then adds, "Apparently this is a question we ask now."
*
"Karolina? Never met her. Literally came right here after finding dat out. Thought you'd wanna know right away," Remy replies. "She look a lil young dan what I normally like, anyhow. Prefer mine to be women."
*
"No." There's a flatness to Jessica's tone, "Ava. She seems… competent. Bright."
*
"Oh, Ava? Nah, Ole Remy ain't touched a hair on her head. God as my witness," Remy says in reply, apparently taking no offense.
*
The cool calculation of Jessica's expression seems to dissolve. Her fingers drum on the desk. Her posture sinks, and just a hint of anxiety enters her expression. Her eyes track to the ground, and her eyebrows draw together sharply. "You said something," her lips purse. "The other day, you said something, and I.." her eyes look up to the ceiling, "How am I exhausting?" Evidently she heard, and presumably, listened.
*
"When Remy was a lil boy, we live down in a place by de Bayou. I was stayin' with Tante Marie at de time and it was closin' in on Christmas, see. She got me dis great big box, and erry day I be askin' Tante Marie if I could open it or if I could least know what it is." Remy chuckles, "Erry day she swattin' me away from de tree like I was a fly at a barbecue. Finally dat day came and I opened up de first box and dere ain't nothin' in it but another box. Dat piss Remy off so I just dig right through to the next box. Open it up. Same damn ting. Over and over I go through this and I get to de bottom and she gave me a set of cufflinks. Now, dose cufflinks may not mean shit to you, but dose were her grand daddys, and dat man wore dose cufflinks to church erry Sunday and he bought dem after he got his freedom. Dose meant somethin' to her and dey meant somethin to him, and dey mean sometin to me. But dat's de ting with you. You all boxes." He reaches into his pack and pulls out a cigarette. "Asked ma tantie why she put it in all dose boxes and she tole me she didn't want me to be underwhelmed. Didn't want de box to cloud what really mattered. Wanted me to be excited." He exhales and ashes in one of the de trays. "I told her boxes were damn stupid."
*
Gambit has partially disconnected.
*
The story of the boxes prompts one of Jessica's eyebrows to arch wryly. Her hands clasp lightly on the desk in front of her and she stares at Remy. Parsing the information from the story seems to have her coming up short enough to create pause. "So there's nothing else there? Just box after box?" Both of her eyebrows lift. And then as if trying to carry the analogy, she states, "There's no treasure here, and there's no mystery. I am who I am. I say what I want. I go for what I want. And I make no apologies for it. I'm not sure I know what you mean that I'm all boxes…"
*
"You more comfortable playin it like you are what you are. Straight up. You pretend to let errybody in. Dat you are an open book. But dat shit's just another box. Actin' like you ain't playin' a game when de game is all you got, kid. Dat all you got."
*
"Fuck that. I'm not playing any game. I'm not an open book," that Jessica knows, "but there's no mystery here either." Her eyes lid and she pinches the bridge of her nose, "It wasn't like this before. I saw the bullshit, but I wasn't — " she frowns and presses her face into her hands. "So you think there's nothing else aside from empty boxes?"
*
"Nah. I'ain't sayin' dat. But ahm sayin' dat I've spent months by your side or searchin' for your ass, and I'm tired. Exhausted." Remy sighs, "We dun wanna talk 'bout dis shit anyway. Ain't no point. Ain't no sense in it."
*
This all begs an important question that has Jessica lowering her hands from her face. "Then why are you still here? If all you're finding is boxes, if I'm so exhausting, why bother?" She finally stands from her desk. "Look. I'm trying. I'm not okay. I know I'm not okay." Her eyes clamp shut again. "But I am trying. I cut back," on the liquor. "I'm trying to be present. I'm working cases. We're taking cases and it drags me out of bed in the morning. The making a difference, the helping, it eases his voice."
Her lips purse. "And if Karolina Dean is a high class prostitute, I'll fucking get her out of that. No one deserves to have someone else's hands on them unless they want it. Unless they expressly ask for it. Unless — " she swallows hard and the thought is lost.
*
"Ain't figured dat out, yet, chere. Dat's what I'm strugglin' wit." Remy puts the cigarette out and wonders if it's all a distraction from his work with Raven. "Ain't neither of us good at dis sort of shit. Less jus' find de girl."
*
A nod of concession follows. "Fine. We'll find Karolina Dean and go from there. Whoever has her is going to have hell to pay." Jessica frowns and turns back towards the desk.