Kimmy nodded, though she wasn't sure why.

"So I started digging for information. It wasn't easy. But there are groups who help adopted kids find their birth parents."

Kimmy plucked the cigarette out of her mouth. Her hand was shaking. "But you know that Candi- I mean, your mother- Candace…"

"… is dead. Yes, I know. She was murdered. I found out last week."

Kimmy's legs started to feel a little rubbery. She sat. Memories rushed back in and they stung.

Candace Potter. Known as "Candi Cane" in the clubs.

"What do you want from me?" Kimmy asked.

"I spoke to the officer who investigated her murder. His name is Max Darrow. Do you remember him?"

Oh, yes, she remembered good ol' Max. Knew him even before the murder. At first Detective Max Darrow had barely gone through the motions. Talk about low priority. Dead stripper, no family. Another dying cactus on the landscape, that was all Candi was to Darrow. Kimmy had gotten involved, traded favors for favors. Way of the world.

"Yeah," Kimmy said, "I remember him."

"He's retired now. Max Darrow, I mean. He says they know who killed her, but they don't know where he is."

Kimmy felt the tears coming to her eyes. "It was a long time ago."

"You and my mom were friends?"

Kimmy managed to nod. She still remembered it all, of course. Candi had been more than a friend to her. In this life you don't find too many people you can truly count on. Candi had been one- maybe the only one since Mama died when Kimmy was twelve. They had been inseparable, Kimmy and this white chick, sometimes calling themselves, professionally at least, Pic and Sayers from the old movie Brian's Song. And then, like in the movie, the white friend died.