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go.” He went first, followed by the quick clicking of her little black half-boots, paused to grab his parka, and headed out to the parking lot.
    â€œAround here is okay,” said the girl suddenly. They had been traveling for twenty minutes or so through light traffic and had reached an area of plazas, parking lots, cheap family restaurants, and motels.
    â€œThis is quite a ways from the airport, lady,” said Lucas.
    â€œIt’s not as though I was catching a plane. I just want a place to stay for a few days that’s off the beaten track. Off my beaten track, anyway.”
    â€œHave you eaten?” asked Lucas suddenly. “Because I haven’t, and I’m hungry.”
    â€œNot since breakfast,” she said. “Except for that stale muffin.”
    A stab of guilt pierced his fatigue. “How about there?” he said, waving to their right. “Italian, with lots of parking.” She made a small sound that might have been assent, and he pulled into the lot.
    The waitress stood over them, balancing on one foot, as though the other one hurt too much to use, and waited. “You want something to start with?” she asked. “A cocktail or anything?”
    He looked up from the oversize plastic-covered menu. “I’ll have a Blue and she’ll have—what would you like? Beer? Wine? Something?”
    â€œI thought you weren’t supposed to drink—”
    â€œI’m not on duty. What’ll you have?”
    â€œThe same,” she said, turning to the waitress.
    â€œAnd bring us a whole lot of garlic bread to start with,” added Lucas, “unless it’s going to take too long. We’re starving.”
    â€œWon’t take long at all,” she said comfortingly. “I’ll be right back.”
    He put the menu down and looked across the table at Jennifer, puzzled. “You look different,” he said.
    â€œThey let me use the washroom down at the police station,” she said. “I washed my face.”
    That was it. Those great black smudges, the caked white quality of the skin, they were all gone. Now she looked pale and tired, but human. “The bruise looks worse now,” he said, touching the discolored patch on her cheek. Its center was still dark. “It must have been a good one. And this one doesn’t look too healthy, either,” he added, touching her shoulder, where the angry red mark was turning to a purple stain. She winced. “You have a left-handed friend, I take it?” he asked.
    â€œWhat makes you say that?”
    â€œBecause your visible bruises are on your right side. I suspect that’s where the others are, too.”
    â€œWhat others?”
    â€œI doubt if he only marks you where the world can see. Look, Jennifer, I don’t know who it is you’re mixed up with, but has it ever occurred to you you’d be better off without him? I’ve seen what guys like that can do to a woman, you know, and it isn’t very pretty. Why don’t you get out while you still have some teeth?”
    She turned her head back from her study of the parking lot and fixed her eyes steadily on him. “You really know how to make a girl feel good, don’t you? Well, maybe I already know that. Maybe that’s why I’m out here and not downtown,” she said, and shivered.
    â€œYou’re shaking,” said Lucas, touching her arm.
    â€œI’m freezing,” she said. “This sweater isn’t very warm, I’m afraid. Neither is the skirt.”
    â€œJesus,” he said. “I forgot you don’t have a coat. Just a minute.”
    When he got back from the car, he was carrying a heavy dark-blue-and-white-patterned sweater in his hand. The beer had arrived and so had the garlic bread. She ripped a piece in two and ate most of the first half as he walked to their booth. “Have some,” she said. “It’s heavenly.”
    â€œPut this on