A couple mini-massages then Olivia Hughes

Rick had thought he was used to hard work. Spending all of his time on his feet, working his muscles to penetrate all the way to where women stored their tensions and pain, and focusing all of his attention on his client to see how they responded, to follow the nerves' messages... all of that wore him down more quickly than he would have thought.

The mini-massages were the worst because he didn't have time to explore for the women's needs. By noon, he was exhausted, needed a break, and had a full load of clients lining up.

"Olivia Hughes is next," Usha announced.

He couldn't help sighing. If he ever needed to be fully charged, it was when dealing with bio-DNA people. And he felt drained already.

"Good afternoon Olivia," he said as his ex-boss's wife strode into his massage area.

"Don't 'good morning' me. What did you do to my daughter?"

"Uh, nothing." Where had this come from? "Just a mini-massage."

"She hasn't spoken to me or her father since she got back last night. And I think you know something about that."

"Sit down, Olivia."

"You think I'm going to let you put your hands on me if you hurt my daughter."

"I didn't hurt your daughter. But that doesn't mean I don't think she's been hurt. And I think you know who hurt her... and who's still hurting her."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I love my daughter."

"I'm sure you do. And I'm sure you've noticed how much attention your husband showers on your daughter."

"He's her father, for Christ's sake. Of course he pays her attention."

"More, perhaps, than he pays you. Especially as you've... well, grown more mature."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I think you know what I'm trying to say. I'm not a mental health professional but it looks to me like your daughter is showing signs of sexual abuse that go back to her childhood. And I think the most likely suspect is the man who flew her away, first class, to beauty contests in cities around the world. The man who dresses his daughter up to look like you looked when you were a teen. The man who's fucking an intern at bio-DNA who might be twenty-one but who looks twelve."

"You are a cruel and vindictive man, Rick. I can't believe you're laying this crap on me and expecting me to believe it."

"I'm not expecting you to believe it because I'm laying it on you. I'm expecting you to believe it because you've seen signs that you've had to work hard to ignore for years."

"You're trying to ruin my husband for firing your ass."

"Yes I am. But I'm also trying to stop him from continuing to abuse your daughter... and who knows, maybe your granddaughter and niece because I wouldn't be surprised if we had a Chinatown thing going on here. You know that in Texas, Judges will look at a man like Dan and say 'he made a mistake but he's a good and productive citizen.' They'll give him a slap on the wrist and send him on his way... if they convict him at all. And you know that his lawyers will drag Nicki through the dirt, blaming her for everything. Because that's what they do. So, help me. I don't want to bring up this stuff because I don't think it'll work. I want to ruin his life and make sure he never sees your daughter again, never hurts your daughter, or you again."

"You're a sick man." Olivia turned and stomped out of the massage room.

"I guess your plan isn't going so well," Usha said when she found Rick slumped over his massage table, his head in his hand.

"You know, you may have a point."