Out of everything that he could have possibly asked about, the name Will Simpson was not even on the top ten. Maybe not even the top twenty. In fact, for a moment, she didn't even realize who he was talking about. She might have had a 'huh' look on her face, for a second until she remembered who it was. That jerk cop who nearly killed her and Trish. That asshole. Clearly she wasn't all too happy to remember him. When she had gotten back to her place, he had been gone, and she was glad for it. Even if her whole place had been trashed. She kind of hoped that he was dead too, that prick.
Still even though she didn't like the dude, and giving him up was something she would have gladly done, she didn't know where he was and thus she was just about to tell him to fuck off, when he said something about money. In fact the letter f was on the tip of her tongue, when that wonderful key word was uttered. Pay. He was going to pay for her time. Hey at least this dude knew what he was talking about, because Will was seriously dangerous, and she did not want to deal with that.
"F- uh, yeah, okay. Sure. Come on in." She wasn't ashamed to ask for the money, she was living on a serious budget. A booze budget. Moving back from the door, Jessica opened it up the rest of the way, and gestured for the guy to enter. Someone across the hall opened up their door, sticking their nose out before ducking back into their apartment. Assholes.
"You got some i.d. that I can see, before I go telling you things? And you're gonna have to tell me what you already know." Too bad she didn't have some weird psychic power too.