He grinned. “You’re a hellcat, Rita.”
“Gotta be. This street is no place for softies.”
The grin faded. He stared at the splintered wall of the shack. He said, “You got something there.”
She studied his eyes. Suddenly she knew what he was thinking. She reached out and touched his arm. “Don’t let it get you.”
He didn’t say anything.
Rita kept her hand on his arm. “I was good friends with your sister.”
He blinked. He looked at the painted face of the five-dollar woman.
Rita nodded. “Real good friends,” she said. “And I don’t make friends easy. Especially women. But it was different with Catherine. She was strictly Grade A.”
He stared at Rita. He said, “I didn’t know she was friends with you.”
“She was friends with everybody.” Rita gazed past Kerrigan’s head. “I used to see her giving candy to the kids in the street. Giving pennies to the bums and the cripples. Always giving.”