the pain, and when that didn’t work, turning his self-hatred and rage against those closest to him. She opened her eyes and met Ginny’s steady gaze.
“There’s nothing I can say except I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” Ginny said.
“What happened after you graduated?” Ian asked.
Pause. Rhona felt Ginny was considering whether to tell them something else. From experience she knew they should sit back and wait. But there was no way to communicate her belief to Ian, who plowed on.
“Well, what did you do?”
“Came to Toronto. Got picked up at the bus station. Worked the street until Fatima found me and here I am.”
“Your pimp must have been angry. Did he come after you?”
“Probably, but he didn’t find me, and now I’m always careful where I go.”
Time for Rhona to issue a warning. “I’m glad to hear that, because we believe you, not Ms. Trepanier, may have been the target. Sabrina was in your bed and the killer may have been after you. That’s why we wanted to know your background, to see if you could think of anyone who might have reason to kill you. Tell us about your pimp.”
A clearly shocked Ginny pulled back as if Rhona had menaced her with a hot poker. “My god,” she said, looking from one detective to the other. “Do you really think so?”
“Your pimp?” Ian persisted.
“Jigs, I never knew his last name. A guy from Nova Scotia. Treated me real good at first but ended up beating me.”
“Drugs?”
Ginny shook her head. “He wanted me to. My older sister, Loraine, got caught in that mess. She died from an overdose and I didn’t want that to happen to me. I just wanted to make money and have nice clothes. Fatima saved my life.” A flash of fear on her face. “If you find him don’t tell him I told you, or tell him where I am. If he could, I think he would kill me.”
“We won’t,” he assured her. “Now tell us about Ms. Trepanier. You were good friends?”
Rhona watched the tension drain from Ginny. Her shoulders, which had been bunched around her ears, resumed their normal position, her hands which had been clenched in her lap, opened and her lips, which had been pressed into a straight line, softened.
“Yes. It surprised me that Sabrina wanted to be friends, because she was so smart.” Her eyes lit up and the corners of her mouth lifted. “Did you find out that she planned to open her own business?” Ginny didn’t wait for an answer but rushed on. “She said that when she did I could live with her and help her in the store. She was teaching me all about fabric and quilts and stuff. My grandmother used to do quill and beadwork and sew. She taught me the old-time stuff when I was a little girl and said I had a gift for it. I guess maybe Sabrina thought so too.” Ginny stretched her fingers as if to prove that these were hands that could make things.
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