Richard, Ricardo, Dick - Jazz's father went by many names, each specific to the situation and location he was in at the time.
When he heard the footsteps on the staircase he was Ricardo, all Latin charm, opening his arms wide to welcome his guest. "Ah, Oficial Kennard! ¡Un placer, viejo amigo!" He grinned wide and wagged a finger at Chad. "Si. I was hoping it would be you to visit us, you are always so - profesional."
Down on the steps Jazz tried not to eavesdrop. All it would take was a simple, two-letter word from Chad and for one, blissful week, she'd be free. No grabbing, pinching hands; no sweating bodies pressing into her....But it wouldn't happen. She was old enough to know better and didn't want to delude herself by pretending there was a chance.