last ten years.”
Jackson shook his head. “This wasn’t even the same,” he said. “I had power then, the power to say no. The power to walk away. These kids don’t have that.”
Ellery didn’t state the obvious: the people Jackson had run to for safety had abused his trust, making him wear a wire for months and then using the information he’d gleaned to set up their own criminal enterprise. Jackson had been used too. Jackson had been victimized too. Jackson’s humanity had been voided and sold to the highest bidder.
“No,” Ellery said, because he was right that the children they were trying to find had even fewer choices—and fewer chances—than Jackson did. “Which is why we’re going to track this thing down to the end. Don’t hit the nice football coach, Jackson. We need to be able to arrest him first.”
Jackson grunted. “Prison has a special place in hell for those people. You know that, right?”
“Hell has a special place in hell for them,” Ellery agreed.
Jackson frowned. “You can’t fool me, Counselor. I’ve been talking to your rabbi, you know. He told me some Jews don’t believe in hell.”
Ellery thought about the young people being betrayed by an authority figure, being shipped off to a strange city to be sold for sex before they even knew what it was themselves.
“I’m starting to change my mind about that,” he said mildly.
“Don’t,” Jackson said, surprising him. Jackson’s hand on his knee surprised him even more. “No cynicism. Not from you.”
Ellery smiled tiredly. “You help me keep the faith, you know that, right?” He used Jackson’s phrasing on purpose. “Do you think we should have Rabbi Watson over for dinner next week?”
Jackson grunted. “Make it two weeks from now. He shaved his beard, you know.”
Ellery’s eyes widened. “I had no idea. You didn’t mention this to me.”
“I was trying to purge it from my brain,” Jackson protested. “I thought he had to have a beard. All the rabbis on TV do! But apparently they don’t. He said he wore the beard to make him look older, but you know why I think he really grew it?”
“I have no idea,” Ellery said, completely distracted—and happy for the distraction, at least for the moment. “Enlighten me.”
“Because the man has a cleft chin! Like, a divot so deep it’s probably hard to shave. Underneath that beard he looks like a movie star with a baby-butt chin! He grew the beard because he thought it would make him look older, and he’s right. He shaved it and looked about twelve.” Jackson harrumphed. “You would know that if you went to temple. I mean I don’t go to temple because, hello, not Jewish, but I thought you had a pact with God or something.”
Ellery made a pained sound. “Yes. I did. But then Rabbi Watson rather gently reminded me that trying to bribe God was—and these are his words, mind you—‘A very non-Jewish way of looking at your relationship with the Almighty.’”
Jackson blinked. “Because it’s like buying God’s favor?”
“Yup.” Ellery had been embarrassed to realize the rabbi was right. God, his bar mitzvah had been a long time ago. “I’ll keep going once in a while—just so I don’t forget stuff like that!”
“Well, I still think having him to dinner would make him happy,” Jackson said. “That’s a very mitzvah thing to do. You’re a mensch.”
“Oh dear Lord,” Ellery muttered. “Mitzvah thing to do indeed! Are you sure you don’t want an actual shrink to talk to?”
“An actual shrink wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining as a guy who disguises his fountain of eternal youth with that amazing beard,” Jackson told him. Then, a little more seriously, “Watson is human. He doesn’t have to be a counselor because he’s a rabbi. If he wanted to be, he could be a religious professor kind of rabbi. He took on the role of counselor because people trust someone whose whole study is about God. He feels like that’s his mission to the world. So yeah, I trust the guy. I hope that’s okay.”
“We could practically make you a bar mitzvah,” Ellery grumbled, turning off the motor. “You sure do seem to have learned a lot.”
Jackson shrugged. “I was on medical leave for eight weeks, Ellery. I was bored shitless, and that guy was on my approved list of people you’d let me talk to. Of course I picked his brains. Smart guy. Very sweet. Let’s have him and his wife to dinner. You already know how to cook kosher.”
More like order