Wall of Silence

By

Gabrielle Goldsby

(AKA GabGold)

Foster,

Be back in a few. I'm going to get some things for us to eat while we are here.

Riley

I grimaced and read the note again. There was no "Love, Riley" this time. Just Riley. I tore the note from the pad and, for some reason, folded it neatly and put it in my back pocket. I grabbed the pad of paper and a pen and sat down at the table to write out my thoughts.

The first thing I would need to do is find out how Marcus was killed; I ignored the queasy feeling in my stomach and continued to jot down my thoughts. Second, I needed to find out if he was still snooping and third, I needed to find who killed him and if his death was somehow related to me.

I looked at the three points for a long time. I would need to talk to Stacy first. She would know what the police were saying had happened. It might help if Riley and I made a trip to the library as well. The newspaper might have a few insights. God, what I wouldn't do to be able to waltz right in to the division and pull the case file. I was still frowning down at the paper when Riley came in carrying a few paper bags. I jumped up to help her although I knew she didn't need my help.

"Good morning," I said awkwardly, hating the invisible wall that was between us now.

"Morning, Foster," she said with a little smile, that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hungry?"

"Uh, yeah, I am."

"Good. I bought you some Frosted Flakes and the milk you like." She pulled the stuff out of the bag and I stared at it. She's going to let me eat that shit? It's bad for me, isn't it?

"Uh, okay. Thanks. You going to have some?" I asked as I pulled a bowl down out of the cabinet.

"I'm not really hungry. I'll just have some tea. Do you want me to make you some coffee?"

She isn't looking at me. Is she still angry? What if she tells me her feelings for me have changed?

"No, don't worry about it. I'll make a pot of coffee and put some water on for your tea."

She nodded and then began reading a magazine she had obviously bought at the grocery store.

I removed the coffee from the bag and stared down at it. Decaf, yuck. I crinkled up my nose in disgust. She must have gotten the wrong coffee by accident. I pulled out the orange juice, poured myself a nice tall glass, then put the water on for Riley's tea. I poured the cereal in a bowl and sat it down on the table across from Riley, but she didn't look up. "Your tea will be ready in minute," I told her gently. She looked up, a frown on her face as if I had disturbed her, then back down at her magazine.

I cupped my orange juice awkwardly.

Would you have thought I was a wuss if I had begged her to stop looking at me like she didn't give a shit about me?

I glared at my glass of OJ, ignoring the pain in my chest.

I would have, too.

"No coffee?" Her eyebrow rose.

"Uh no, I think you got decaffeinated by accident."

"I've been giving you decaf since we've…all along." I stared at her in surprise. What was she going to say? Since we have known each other or since we've been together? Why wouldn't she just say it? I suddenly felt bereft, like I had lost something important to me and I had no clue how to get it back.

"Oh…why?"

"Because it's bad for you."

"Oh, I didn't notice any difference."

"You put so much stuff in your coffee, I can see how you wouldn't."

I decided to let it go as I poured a generous proportion of milk over my cereal. I looked down in my bowl remembering the large Belgium waffle that she had made me while we were at the cabin. I learned later that it was made with wheat which is what gave it the odd looking color.

I scooped the cereal into my mouth and was immediately assaulted by the sweetness. I stopped chewing for a minute and then forced myself to swallow it.

"Good?"

"Yeah, it is." I sighed and continued to eat the cereal, cutting the sweetness with the juice.

I don't know whether it was the combination of the orange juice and cereal, or my reaction to Riley's coldness, but something was leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

Nobody answered at Stacy's house and she wouldn't be at Secrets for another few hours, so I decided that we should head over to talk to Big Sherm instead. It was possible that he could give me the same info I was going to talk to Stacy about.

"You sure you don't want me to go in alone?" Riley asked nervously as we stared at the deserted looking bar. We were parked across the street, as we had been for the last ten minutes. No one came in or out. It was twelve in the afternoon on a Tuesday but I had always found this place to be open no matter what time of day it was.

"No, Sherm won't talk to you. He doesn't know you."

"What if he goes to the police?" she asked worriedly. "They would know you're in LA."

"Trust me, he wont. There's no love lost between Sherm and the police."

"From what I remember, he's not to crazy about you either." Rather than assent to Riley's statement, I simply opened my door and got out. I had traded in my blue jeans for black cargo pants and a black t-shirt. I still wore the sunglasses just in case I saw someone on the street that might recognize me.

I walked up to the front door and tried it. The door was locked even though I was positive there were people inside the club even at this time of the day.

"Okay, I'm going to have to go around to the back. Do you want to wait here…?"

"No," she said firmly and folded her arms in front of her looking for the entire world like she was ready for a fight. I nodded and walked toward the back of the club with her right behind me. I wish there was something I could say that would make her trust me again.

I hammered on the back door with my fist. Probably putting a little more into it than I needed to, but hell, I was more than a little frustrated with my life right now.

"Who the fuck is it?" a bodiless voice yelled from the other side.

"None of your fucking business," I yelled back just as angrily. "I'm here to see Big Sherm."

A square plate near the top of the door slid back and angry brown eyes looked at first me, then Riley. They seemed to linger on Riley for a moment and then the little door slammed shut. I was just about to hammer on it again when I heard a metal bar being removed and several locks being turned. The door was swung open by none other than Homeboy. I was surprised. I thought for sure they would play softball with his pride and joys after he wimped out with Riley and me the last time we were there. He stared nervously at Riley and hitched his thumb in an obscure direction behind him.

"Glad to see you made it." I told him insincerely.

"Huh? Uh, Sherm's in the back." I pushed past him leaving Riley to follow. I fought down the insane urge to stop right there and ask her if she still loved me. I mean she can't just change her mind, can she? I know I couldn't. My chest literally felt like someone had stuffed dirty rags into it by way of my throat, making sure to scrape every surface as they went. I didn't ask Riley if she still loved me though, I would have felt stupid doing so. Instead I made a beeline for the room that I had seen Sherm in the last time we were there and found him sitting in the exact same place.

"Hey, Sherm," I said, prepared to field any insults that I needed to in order to get my information.

"I was wondering when you would show up." He turned the TV off in the middle of what looked like one huge catfight.

"I'm sorry, Sherm. I know how much he meant to you."

Sherm didn't move for a moment then a large fat tear rolled down his face. "I shoulda made up with him, you know?

For the first time I noticed that Sherm's usually superbly quaffed hair was not brushed into its normal neat waves and the thin line that connected his beard to his side burns was in dire need of trimming. Even his manicured nails were looking…well, overlooked.

"I just figured he was wrong and I was right. I thought if I just waited long enough he would come apologize, you know."

"Yeah, I know." If it was one thing I did know about, it was how pride could make you do things that you regretted later. Or make you not say the things now that you should.

I looked back at Riley to see how she was taking all this. She stood completely still, her eyes riveted on the big man as if she were watching something that she couldn't comprehend. I knew how she felt. I didn't like Big Sherm, never had. Aside from some pretty disgusting habits, he was also a drug-dealing gang leader. I was shocked when I found out by catching them in the act, so to speak, that he and Marcus were an item. I had been so sure that he was no good and would end up hurting Marcus. I had been partially right. Marcus and Sherm had split up within a year. I never got the full story, but apparently it was because Marcus felt that Sherm would always be ashamed of who he was. I had never known two more different people. Riley shifted behind me and I met her eyes, telling her silently that this wasn't going to be us. She gave me a barely perceptible nod.

"What happened to him, Sherm?" I gently pulled him from whatever memories he seemed to be in the middle of.

"He was killed…coming home from the drag show. I told him. I told him not to wear that shit in public, you know? He was inviting some punk with a hard on for trouble to… He must have had a flat or something cause they found him in his car…he was beaten and…" Sherm choked up. "They beat him so bad that his casket was kept closed at the funeral."

I don't know why, but I took a step back, running into Riley. Her hand went to my hip and I felt myself sway. I didn't want to think about what his final moments were like.

"The paper said it was a random hate crime. Someone saw him standing there and decided to fuck him up. I don't know, Foster. I just don't know. I checked. I had my boys on every corner out there. Made it sound like he owed me money or something. No one knows who did that shit."

I stared at Sherm. I wanted to tell him something that would make him feel better. But as of that moment, he knew more then I did.

"Do you know if he was involved in anything? Maybe something he shouldn't have been?"

Sherm looked up then. "I haven't talked to Marcus since we…stopped seeing each other. But you know Marcus, he was as straight as they come where that type of shit was concerned. He was always trying to get me to give up the game."

I nodded. I didn't feel like explaining to Sherm what I meant by Marcus being into something. I didn't want him asking me questions I wasn't prepared to answer.

"I'm going to try to find out who did this." He looked up at me then. I didn't see any joy or any sorrow, just complete emptiness.

"I heard you were off the force."

I stiffened. So word had gotten out. "I am. What does that have to do with anything?" He looked at me appraisingly.

"Why are you here, Foster? That friend of yours…Stacy…could have told you what happened to Marcus. She probably knows more than I do. The police won't tell me shit."

Sherm glared at me as if I were withholding information. I was tempted to console him, but I knew as well as anyone why Sherm had not bothered to go to the police. Not because he was afraid of any backlash from them, but because he was afraid of anyone finding out about his sexuality. That was something he would have to live with. I had my own demons to fight.

"Yeah, she could have, but I need your help."

His brown eyes immediately shut down. There was no evidence of the man that had lost his ex-lover. "Why should I help you with shit? Not like we were ever friends."

"No, but I'm going to find out who killed Marcus. I figured you'd want their balls on a plate about as much as I do."

He sneered. "How you gonna do that? You're not even a cop anymore."

"I don't need to be a cop to find out who did this, Sherm. Now you going to help me or what?"

"What do you want?"

"I need a car with legit tags that can't be traced and maybe some equipment."

"What kind of equipment?"

"Weapons, some lock picks, a penlight, and a police ID. Oh, and a tiny tape recorder. Quality shit, Sherm, not that costume shit." I remembered the money that I had taken from Riley and added, "a couple grand would help, too."

He seemed to think about it for a minute. "When you need it?"

"Yesterday."

"Come back later. I should have it ready."

Riley was already reaching for the door as if she too sensed that we had already overstayed our welcome. We were half way through the door when Sherm called out.

"Everett?"

"Yeah?"

"You should go see his gravesite. They laid him out real nice. He would have been proud."

I nodded. Maybe I would go see him after all this was over. But first I wanted to find out who was responsible for his death.

Riley had said that Stacy usually got over to Secrets a few hours before the doors opened for business so we headed over there to talk to her. She was extremely quiet as I pulled the car into the back lot of the lesbian bar. I made sure to scan the area for anyone or anything that shouldn't be there before I nodded that she could get out.

Riley touched me on the arm before I could open my door. I looked back, concerned that perhaps she had seen something I missed. She kissed me sweetly, cupping my face in her hands. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting."

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a minute before answering. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry." I felt like the weight of the world had been removed from my chest. "We will talk, okay? When this is all over, we will talk seriously." I leaned closer to her and made sure she looked me in the eye. "I mean it, Riley."

She nodded, an answering smile on her face. I hopped out of the car, a small tendril of arousal causing my nipples to harden. Oh boy, this was going to take some getting used to. Riley came around the car and, with her hand on the small of my back, we walked to the rear door of Secrets. Riley knocked, as I was too distracted by the fact that she had not removed her hand.

Stacy opened the door quickly, almost as if she had been waiting for us. "Are you two nuts? Get in here!" She pulled us in and slammed the door behind her before grabbing us both in a bear hug. "Why in the hell did you come back?"

"We came…"I tried to speak, but had to stop because I was trapped between Riley's body and hers.

"Sorry, baby." Riley stepped back with a rakish grin on her face. Stacy was looking at us both wide-eyed and I stared back at her for a moment before I turned to look at Riley. Baby, huh? She returned my shy smile and again I had to fight down the urge to finish what she had started in the car.

"You guys come here to give me a show or what?" I was just contemplating asking for a kiss when Stacy's words crept into my subconscious.

"Oh yeah, sorry, Stace." I gave Riley one last lingering look before turning back to Stacy.

"No need to apologize. Come back to the office, there's no one here but me. Chrissie won't be in for a while. This is inventory day." Riley and I followed her to the small, cramped office that she only used when doing paperwork and other things requiring concentration.

"I can't believe you guys came back to LA," Stacy said as she closed the door. Riley sat down on a chair while Stacy sat in the one behind her desk. I contemplated perching on Riley's lap, but thought better of it and instead sat on a corner of Stacy's desk.

"We went to talk to Big Sherm."

The vague look of disgust faded from her face as she realized, as I had, that Big Sherm was probably hurting as much as we were over Marcus' murder. "How is he taking it?"

"Not so good." Stacy nodded and we all sat there for a moment. "Stacy, what happened the last time you saw Marcus?"

Stacy sighed and frowned as she thought. "Marcus was in the Miss Secrets contest like he always is. I held it the Friday before last. It was a packed house so I didn't get a chance to do much more than wave at him from across the room. I did get a chance to see his show though, you know how the girls hoot and holler for Marcus."

I nodded. Everyone loved Marcus and we all secretly did what we could to sway the vote even though there was a panel of judges that determined the winner.

"Anyway, Marcus won. I saw him get crowned and it was the last time I saw him," she said regretfully.

"You didn't even see him when he left?"

"No, Chrissie told the two cops that questioned us that he left a little after one."

"Did they say where they found his car?"

"Yeah, they said it was found right off the freeway over on Barham. He must have been going home. The keys were still in the ignition, and he had the trophy for winning the contest plus the check for two hundred fifty dollars still in his bag. That's how they tracked him here to Secrets."

"That must be why they figured it was a hate crime. Nothing was stolen." I said it more to myself than to Stacy, but she nodded as if it was something that had occurred to her as well.

"When you would talk to him before that night, did he ever say anything about something he might have been working on or looking into?"

"You don't think he was still looking into…?"

"I don't know. I told him to leave it alone, but…I can't help but wonder if he did."

"He did mention that you'd said it was too dangerous to keep probing into. As far as I know he stopped. If he continued, he didn't say anything to me about it."

Something else occurred to me. "Do you remember which two cops questioned you? I want to make sure they are putting the best they can on Marcus' case and not just pushing it under the rug."

Stacy opened her desk drawer and pulled out a small white card. "Yeah, one of them gave me a card just in case we remembered anything else." It took me a moment to recognize the name because I'm horrible with names, but when I did, my mouth tightened. It could just be coincidence, I told myself. But I couldn't help wondering why two detectives assigned to the cold case division would be investigating a hate crime that happened two weeks ago.

"Mind if I keep this?"

"Sure, go ahead. Anything wrong?"

"No. Not at all," I said, so as not to make Stacy worry. "I don't know this guy. I'm sure he's probably a good detective." I handed the card to Riley even though I was sure it meant nothing to her. She didn't ask any questions, just put it in her shirt pocket.

I couldn't think of anything else to ask Stacy so I told her that we would be in touch. "Stacy, do me a favor and let me know if those two cops come back around, okay? I want to know what they're up to."

"Sure, I'll give you a call." She hugged each of us and then gave us a stern look. "Be careful, you two. I don't need anyone else to visit at the cemetery."

"We will."

Riley got behind the wheel and started the car. "Now where to?"

"We should head back home. I'm starving and I think we could use some rest. We may have a long night ahead of us."

She silently steered us toward the theater as I thought about the information that I had gleaned so far.

Riley offered to grill two large steaks and I smiled appreciatively. "That would be great," I said to her as I sat down with the pad of paper. "Hey, Riley, let me have that card."

She pulled it out of her shirt pocket and looked at it again before handing it to me. "You know him?"

"Yeah, so do you. That's the idiot that you pushed into the wall the night I handcuffed you on my floor."

"You're kidding."

"Wish I was." I turned back to my pad of paper and wrote down Alvin Wilson's name as well as that of his partner.

"Do you think it's a coincidence?" Riley asked as she expertly flipped one of the large steaks.

"I guess it's possible. But in the eight years I have been in law enforcement I could count on one hand the number of real coincidences there were." I stared down at my nearly empty pad of paper wishing I could get my hands on the case files. There were so many questions I wanted answered.

Riley and I ate in silence. I was trying to figure out the best way to tell her what I had planned for that night. "Uh, listen, Riley. I need to get into Marcus' house."

"How are you going to do that?"

"Sherm's going to get me a key."

She chewed her steak completely before speaking. "Why would Sherm have a key? You said that he and Marcus broke up a while ago."

"Okay…" I squirmed and put a piece of tomato in my mouth, the lemon dressing Riley had made giving it a tart but pleasant taste. I chewed it appreciatively and went a little too far by making small noises of approval. Riley's eyebrow rose as I swallowed. I took a large gulp of my water, nearly emptying the cup, as she waited patiently for me to continue. I no longer had any reason not to speak, so I sighed. "I'm going to break into his house, Riley. That's why I asked Sherm for the lock picks."

"That's illegal," she said evenly.

"Highly," I answered.

"What if the police are watching his house?"

"I don't see why they would be." I shrugged. "If they believe it's a random hate crime, there would be no need to watch his house. Besides, I'll be careful."

"I'm coming with you."

"No. Now, Riley, look…"

"I'm coming with you," she said sternly in that no nonsense voice of hers.

Shit…shit…shit! I thought as I morosely dug into my salad and Riley got up to get me more water. I don't know when it happened but the tide had turned in our relationship and I was not the one calling the shots. I chomped down on a big ass piece of cucumber and wondered sullenly if I had ever really been calling the shots. Riley sat back down in her chair and, almost as if she'd heard my thoughts, gave me a large grin that I couldn't help but return. The words pussy whipped were being cried tauntingly over and over again in my head.

This time when I pounded on the door to the bar we were let in immediately. Both Riley and I were dressed in black and probably looked ridiculous, but I wasn't so much worried about that. My conscience was starting to give me trouble. I didn't mind breaking the law myself, but the idea that I was going to drag Riley down with me; well, it didn't sit right with me.

Sherm was sitting in the same room that I had assumed served as his office when there wasn't any illegal gambling going on. The minute we walked in the door he tossed me the keys to the car I had requested. "It's the midnight blue Blazer in the back parking lot." I nodded and Riley and I sat down across from him as he opened up several cases and turned them toward us. "Here are your tools. This shit was hard to come by." He looked at me accusatorily and I shrugged.

"Sorry," I said as I turned the tiny tape recorder over in my hand before shoving it, along with the case that held my new lock pick set, into my pocket.

"S'okay. I just had to call in a few favors so I hope I'm not wasting my time here." I just stared at him. I'm sure he wanted some kind of guarantee but he wasn't going to get one.

"You want the big one to have a gun?" he pointed to Riley with his chin.

"No," I said through a jaw that refused to open. "And her name…is not…The Big One."

Riley gripped my hand under the table. For some reason, I felt like knocking the shit out of Sherm for talking about Riley as if I were her keeper.

Sherm shrugged. "Look, I don't have time for polite conversation. Can we get on with this? I got shit to do."

I made myself calm down. I did need Sherm probably a lot more then he needed me. "All I need are these." I picked up a box of ammunition and a .38 caliber Smith and Wesson that had already been shoved into an ankle holster. I still had the two 9mm's that Sherm had given me the first time, so I took two more clips for those as well. "What about the money, Sherm?"

"How do I know you're going to get me my shit back?"

"Sherm, who the fuck are you kidding? You didn't pay shit for any of this. I'm sure most of it's stolen, and as far as the money is concerned, that's nothing to you, so don't give me shit here."

I held my breath and waited to see if Sherm blew his stack. Normally I wouldn't give a shit, I was determined to go after Marcus' killer whether Sherm helped or not. I just figured it would be a lot easier with his help.

"Look goddamnit," he erupted and we glared at each other antagonistically. Finally Sherm took a deep calming breath, as if he were speaking to a temperamental child. "Will you at least let me know what you find…please?" I could tell the "please" was hard for him to utter. Hell, it would have been hard for me to say to him too.

"Yeah, Sherm, if I find something, I'll let you know." I could tell this didn't satisfy him. I knew what he wanted, but he wasn't getting it. If he wanted a fucking PI he could go track down one of those pencil pushers that are in the phone book, I wasn't there to write reports, nor did I charge by the hour. I knew, as well as he did, whether I found the fuckers that shot Marcus or not, Sherm wasn't getting one red cent of his money back.

"Later Sherm, I got shit to do too." Riley stood up and I followed her to the door.

"When am I gonna hear from you?" Sherm called out. I could tell this playing nice was killing him.

"In a few days unless I find something before then." Sherm nodded and pushed a card across the table. I walked over and scooped it up keeping one eye on him and reading the card with the other. There was a phone number on the card-no name, no title, just the number.

"That's my cell. Not too many people have that so you should be able to get me anytime." I put it in my pocket and turned to leave.

"How do I reach you?" he asked.

I looked back at him in surprise. Does he think I'm stupid? "You don't."

I was tempted to grab Riley's hand as we walked back into the parking lot, but I figured it would just fuck up my tough girl reputation, so I didn't.

"He loved him." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"Why do you say that?" I had come to the same conclusion but I was curious how she had after only meeting Sherm twice.

"Because when you love someone, you let go of lots of things."

"Like?"

"Like pride…safety."

Pride I understood. Sherm was holding his tongue with me because he loved Marcus; he wanted his killers found and punished. But safety? I didn't think Big Sherm was in any danger. "Anyway, one of these days I'm going to have to ask how they met, sort of an odd couple."

"Were they any more odd than the two of us?"

"I don't know. Why don't we shove a pen down your ear and see what happens?" I teased and bumped into her so she would know I was kidding.

Riley shook her head and grinned at me. "What do we do now?"

"We get over to Marcus' place."

"Tonight?" She shoved her hands into her front pockets and slowed her pace.

"Yeah, we have to. They may have already reached Marcus' family. It's possible that they could start clearing out his stuff soon."

We walked toward the blue Blazer and I inspected it as we approached. I could smell the new car scent from four paces away. The tires probably had a bottle of Armoral on each one and the paint job was pristine. I opened the door and hit the button so that Riley could jump in too. I whistled. "Damn, this is nice." I squished back into the leather. Riley was looking around the truck as if something was going to reach out and grab her.

"This isn't stolen, is it?" I could tell she was worried and something in me wanted to lie to assuage her fears, but I couldn't lie to her. So I went for a little vagueness and hoped she would leave it at that.

"Riley, I told him I wanted a car that had legit tags. I'm sure it's okay." That seemed to appease her. I didn't tell her that a man like Sherm probably had a few people down at the DMV on his payroll. I hadn't exactly lied. This car would come back clean if we should ever get pulled over, but as for if it was stolen? Yeah, I'd bet my ass it was.

I had only been over to Marcus' duplex once and that was because I had gone with him to dinner and he had forgotten his wallet. Luckily, I knew the area pretty well and was able to find his subdivision with no problem. I was cursing myself for not getting the exact address from Sherm or Stacy.

"Shit, shit, shit," I said as we pulled over to the curb and stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"That's wrong." I pointed at the town homes. "Son of a bitch." I slammed my head back against the seat, but to my disgust, the Blazer's plush leather took all the impact out of it.

We were looking at six town homes. The problem was all of them looked exactly alike right down to their neatly groomed lawns and pristine paint jobs.

"You don't know the address?" Riley correctly surmised.

"No," I was somewhat miffed that I had to admit to her that I had forgotten. I have a bad memory sometimes. Especially where names and directions are concerned. It's one of the reasons I tended to carry a small tape recorder while working. It kept me from missing something important. Besides, it was better to record a witness' account and then write the information down later than to write notes during the heat of the conversation and risk missing something important like body language. I stared at the town homes with their peachy southwestern exteriors and their Terra Cotta roofs, willing them to give me the answer that I was looking for.

"We could always give Sherm a call," Riley suggested and I squirmed at the idea of having to call him and ask him something so simple. I looked down at the clock on the dash. It was a few minutes past eight.

"Look, the only one of these that has a porch light on is that one over there." I pointed to the town home furthest from us. "The one next to it has a car parked in the driveway. Marcus only had one car and I'm sure that it's still impounded for evidence. That one over there has a light on in the upstairs window." Riley dipped her head to look in the direction I was pointing.

"So can we rule out those two?" she asked.

"No, not completely." I sighed, "Just the one with the car in the driveway. Marcus may have had his lights on a timer." I stared hard at the other five town homes before I finally had the answer. Illegal as it was, it would probably work. "Wait here," I said and jumped out of the car. I glanced back just in time to see the annoyed look on her face before the door shut and the dome light cut off. I ran across the street and up on the porch of the first home, lifted the mailbox lid and peeked in. Nothing. I ran to the second home and almost leapt out of my skin as a dog started barking as soon as I had one foot up on the porch. I skirted this one not even bothering to check the mailbox. I was positive that Marcus wasn't a dog person, especially not one as big as that one sounded.

I knew I had the right place before I even pulled the mail from the mailbox. Still, I thought it prudent to check before breaking into someone's house. The mailbox lid banged loudly as I removed the crumpled mail from its tight confines, causing my heart rate to speed up. I paused, waiting for a light to go on inside the house or at a nearby neighbors. When there was no flurry of activity I absently waved Riley over, certain that her eyes would be on me. A cursory glance gave me no helpful phone bills or anything else that might give me clues to what Marcus had been up to the last few weeks. I pulled out the case holding the lock picks. The set had a small penlight, which I held in my mouth to illuminate the doorknob as I worked. As an afterthought I went ahead and rang the doorbell, just in case.

"Want me to hold that?" Riley asked. Her voice sounded more husky than usual due to her nervousness.

"Mm mm, if you can just keep watch, I'll have this open in no time," I said around the light in my mouth. I was going to tell her she could pray that Marcus didn't have an alarm but she was already too nervous to appreciate the humor.

"Okay."

The bottom lock was the only one that was engaged. I rolled my eyes as the door swung open easily. I wished Marcus was here so I could let him know that he had some cheap ass locks. It had taken me less than thirty seconds to get into the town home.

"We're in," I said quietly.

I entered the home carefully with Riley right behind me. We paused in the dark hallway both of us holding our breath. I switched on the tiny flashlight and directed the beam to the floor.

I knew that Marcus had a two bedroom, one of which he had turned into a home office. I figured the office was as good a place to start as any. Marcus had taken his time in decorating the split-level townhouse. The carpet was a light tan color that was bordering on white and all of the walls were painted a similar color. From the glance that I got of his living room I cold see that it was also in a light color pattern. Marcus liked to entertain. In fact he had, on several occasions, invited me to his dinner parties. But fearing I would be out of place I had always feigned a prior engagement. I sort of regret that now, I would give anything to have spent more time with my friend. Being in his home that night made his death more real than seeing his gravesite ever could. I missed him and that hurt.

"Come on, I think his office is up here," I whispered to Riley and turned to make sure that she had heard me. She nodded and put her hand on the small of my back. We went up the stairs as if we were expecting someone to jump out at us. It was strange really, but knowing how Marcus died sort of did make the place a bit scarier. I opened one of the doors and shined the light in. It was Marcus' bedroom. I tugged Riley along to the next closed door. We could check his bedroom later. But judging from Marcus' neat orderly home, and indeed he was like that at work too, he would keep any correspondence in his office. And that was what I was looking for. Some type of clue that Marcus might have been digging into things he shouldn't have been.

Marcus' office was different from the rest of the house. In fact, if I didn't know better I would say that someone else decorated it. The furniture was extremely masculine. Dark oaks and leather with what I hoped were faux animal skins on the wall. His desk was huge and strewn with papers. So much for orderliness. I shook my head and walked over to the blinds taking a cursory look out the window before closing all of the slats with a sweep of my hand, then pulling the heavy brown drapes closed as well. I turned on a lamp and clicked off my penlight.

Riley's tanned skin had paled considerably as she looked around the office.

"You okay?"

She nodded and I wished that I had convinced her to stay in the car. "What…what do you want me to do?"

"How about you check those bookcases over there," I told her. I didn't expect her to find anything but I wanted to give her something to do while I went through Marcus' stuff.

I frowned. It was very uncharacteristic of Marcus to leave his office desk with papers on top when he left work for the day and I couldn't see him being any different at home. I glanced back at the bookcase that Riley was painstakingly checking for clues and noted that not one book looked out of place.

"Are those books in alphabetical order?" I asked Riley.

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

"Marcus organized everything. It's just odd to me that his desk at home would be so messy," I said casually. I didn't want to scare Riley, but it didn't make sense to me that he would keep his desk any messier at home than he did at work. Either he had been in a hurry, or someone else had gotten there before us. I would bet money on the latter.

I sat down in his chair and started going through the documentation. There was no order; it looked like someone had just dumped his files out and started combing through them. I began sifting through bills and mortgage documentation, trying to put the stuff that I was sure would tell me nothing to one side and the stuff that I wanted to check more thoroughly to the other. After fifteen minutes of doing this I came up with nothing. So I started checking through the drawers. I found various documents that the average person would have tossed. Marcus was apparently fanatical about keeping all of his bills. He had everything from grocery store receipts to his electricity and water bills for the last two years. But other than that, I found nothing. I sighed and shook my head to Riley's inquiring eyebrow.

"Nothing?" she asked.

"No. Nothing."

"Should we check the rest of the house?"

"Yeah, we should. But I have this feeling that if we were going to get anything, it would be in here." I looked around the desk once again before standing up. I was just about to come around the desk when I noticed a balled up piece of paper near the empty trashcan. I opened it and stared at the little stick figure doodles that ran along the margin. It caused me to smile.

"You find something?"

"Nah, just some doodles. I just remember Marcus used to doodle all the time. Sort of made me sad thinking about it."

"I'm sorry, baby," she said quietly, and I smiled despite myself. I loved when she called me baby. Made me feel…well, like I belonged to someone.

"Come on, let's go check out the bedroom." I wadded up the paper and banked it off the rim of the trashcan, prepared to follow Riley to the bedroom. I had a flash, sort of a vision of Marcus sitting at his desk in the file room doodling Riley's name. Whenever Marcus was in deep thought about something he would doodle. He always kept a pad of paper near his desk just for that reason. I hadn't seen anything like that on the desk tonight. Other than a balled up piece that had missed the trashcan, there were no other doodles.

"I need to check on one more thing," I said as I approached the desk. I got down on my knees and peered under the desk. "Yes," I hissed as I pulled the pad out and immediately began to thumb through it. Marcus had scribbled things like pay bills, call grandma, and there were a few of his signature stick figures all over the margins of the paper. I thumbed through the pad before I stopped on my own name drawn with heavy bold lines around it several times. Beneath it were Smitty's and a few other names of people I didn't know.

"Bingo," I said under my breath.

"What is it?"

"I'm not real sure." I scanned the page. "Could be nothing."

"Let me see." I showed her the pad with the names on it.

Foster Everett

Joseph Smith

Nathan Stein

Michael Albert

Eric Ann

"Do those other names mean anything to you?" she asked, frowning at the names as if they were some kind of word puzzle.

"No, I don't think so, but I'm bad with names." I tried to ignore the chill that had been steeling up my spine since the moment I saw my name written atop the list. There was my proof. Whatever was going on, whatever Marcus had been working on, I was involved. "Let's check his bedroom so we can get out of here."

Checks of Marcus' bedroom drawers, closets, and under his bed netted us nothing unexpected. "I wish I knew exactly what I was looking for," I growled as we stepped out of his bedroom and shut the door behind us. "We better check the kitchen, too." I didn't expect to find anything, but I wanted to be as thorough as I could under the circumstances.

Riley followed me to the kitchen. I was impressed with the tidiness of it. My kitchen always had something that needed washing in the sink. I walked over to the stove and flipped a switch. Riley and I started violently as the overhead fan started sucking nonexistent smoke up through its vents. "Shit. Sorry." I found the right switch and cut it on. The light was just bright enough to illuminate the kitchen but not much else. Riley started opening the drawers while I ran my hand along the top of his refrigerator. I was impressed, not a spec of dirt. I didn't want to think about what was on top of the refrigerator at my apartment. I couldn't remember ever having cleaned it in the three years I lived there.

Marcus' refrigerator was full, almost as if he had just gone to the store. A check of his cabinets netted various seasonings, pastas, rice, and cereals all neatly packed in airtight containers. Marcus had labeled each of the containers with a date and a name. The container marked flour had a date from three weeks before. I moved the containers around not expecting to find anything but doing so anyway. A container marked FB was the largest in the cabinet and it was marked over a month before. I sniffed the contents and decided against a taste test much to the chagrin of my growling stomach. There was something just too fucked up about raiding a dead man's cupboards, even if he had been a friend and probably wouldn't have been offended. The kitchen, as I expected, netted us nothing. So I turned off the light and Riley followed me toward the front door.

I was reaching for the doorknob when I heard it. A metallic banging noise. Someone had just pulled the mail out of Marcus' mailbox! Riley and I froze and I prayed for the sound of a car engine. The sound of jingling keys and someone fumbling with the doorknob finally jogged me out of my stupor.

The air left my lungs in a soft gust as I grabbed Riley's hand and pulled her into the living room. Luckily for us Marcus' couch was facing the fireplace. If Riley and I lay down in front of it the person coming in would have to walk into the living room before they spotted us. I pushed Riley down on the floor and, heart thumping, pulled the .38 out of my ankle holster. I held my breath as I heard the sound of the door swinging open followed shortly by it being closed. There was the whisper of fabric and then the tap-tap-tap of high heels on linoleum. A light went on in the kitchen giving Riley and I just enough illumination that we could vaguely see each other.

"Yes he did, girl. I told her ass to dump him a long time ago…hold on a minute. Here FB… FB, come on now." Then we heard the sound of something being shaken, it sounded like a cereal box. I looked over at Riley and she shook her head indicating she had about as much of a clue to our intruder's identity as I did.

"Shit!" I said silently to myself as I remembered Marcus picking cat hair off his pant legs. Riley, who was lying on her side, frowned at me for an explanation. I mouthed, "I think he has a fucking cat."

"Who is that?" Riley mouthed. I shrugged. Whoever it was would hopefully just feed the fucking cat and leave. A loud popping noise made both Riley and I jump as the refrigerator and a cabinet door were opened. The noise was repeated three more times rapidly, right behind each other like automatic weapons being fired from a distance. It took me a few seconds before I realized what I was hearing. "Son of a bitch!" I eased my head up and over the back of the couch, confident that the darkness would hide me as long as the person wasn't looking directly into the living room. I recognized her instantly, right down to the cell phone attached to her ear like a deformed twin.

"Girl, I don't know where this cat is." Chandra prefaced her words with three more machine gun like pops of her gum. "Last time I saw him he had hard ass dingle berries just a swinging off of his ass. I'm not lying. Looked like Swedish meatballs." I sank back down on the floor and slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing, as Riley shook her head at Chandra's description. Neither of us would be partaking of that particular entree for a very long time, you could bet your ass on that one. Chandra chuckled. "Marcus named him Funky Butt for a reason." Her voice lowered a little as she said Marcus' name.

"Oh yeah. So anyway, girl. She called me the other day just a cryin' and carrying on. She said her and Keith broke up. So me being me, I'm like, Beverley, you know men need to be reminded about anniversaries." Chandra lowered her voice as if she were afraid of being overheard, but we could still hear her just fine. "She then proceeds to tell me that he didn't forget. No, girl, he didn't, listen to this shit here. He comes running into the house, hands her a gift, and runs into the bathroom." She paused and took a dramatically deep breath, "Girrrl, he got her a weed whacker." Chandra cackled loudly. "No, I'm not lyin'. But that's not even the kicker. He comes out the bathroom fanning hisself, right? Like he just ran a marathon or something. And he says…are you ready for this?"

I rolled my eyes wishing I had an Oscar for best dramatic actress in my hand so that I could hit Chandra over the head with it.

"That fool said he was going to stop and buy her roses but he couldn't cause he had to shit." Riley and I looked at each other horrified. That poor, poor bastard, I thought.

"Girl, I'm not lyin' to you. That's what she told me he said. Hold on a minute."

I heard a beep as she hit a button on her cell phone. "Hell-o? Yeah, Terence, I'll be home in a minute." The beep told me that Chandra pushed end in lieu of a goodbye to Terrance.

"Girl, let me let you go so I can get this man his dinner before I have to hurt him. All right now, bye-bye." A beep and a small click then the clatter of Chandra's heels on the floor as she moved about Marcus' kitchen. "All right, FB, I'll be back after work to feed you, again."

Chandra's heels skittered across the linoleum, then the sound was muffled as she passed our hiding place and walked out the front door. Riley and I both breathed a sigh of relief after the door shut behind her.

"Who was that?"

"Her name's Chandra. She works with…worked with Marcus.

"How did she get a key?"

"I think she already had one because she always fed the cat when Marcus was on vacation." I paused as the beginnings of a plan started to take form in my head. "I have an idea. Come on." I pulled Riley behind me and after peeking out the door to make sure that Chandra had indeed gone, we exited Marcus' house. I noticed that the mail that had been stuffed in the mailbox was now gone. We hopped in the Blazer and, after making a pit stop by the bar to pick up Riley's Cruiser, we were headed back to the movie theater.

I sat at the table staring down at Marcus' pad of paper as Riley moved around behind me. She handed me a bottled water, which I accepted gratefully, my eyes not leaving the pad. It could be nothing, but I couldn't see Marcus writing my name and Smitty's, who he hardly even knew, along with these other people's unless we were all somehow connected.

"Foster?" I looked up quickly

"Yeah," I shook my head to rid myself of the trance I had been in. "Sorry, baby. Did you say something?"

"What do you think it means?"

"I don't know, could be nothing. I mean Marcus doodled all the time."

"Yeah, but look. The names are all neat. It's like he wrote the names first and then doodled all around it."

"Yeah, I noticed that, too. But I don't recognize any of them other than Smitty and myself. I can't help thinking that I'm missing something."

Riley cupped her water and frowned. I couldn't help but smile. I once thought she looked so fierce when she frowned, now I just thought she looked too cute for words.

"It could be just a list. For a party or something."

"Could be but…as far as I know Marcus didn't really know Smitty that well. I doubt he would have invited him to one of his parties. I could probably ask Stacy if any of these names look familiar. She knows more of Marcus' friends than I do. They go way back."

"So what's your idea?"

"Hmm?" I looked up at her confused for a minute.

"You said you had an idea."

"Oh yeah, um, Chandra might be able to help us figure out what Marcus was up to."

"Chandra? Can you trust her?"

I thought about that for a minute. Chandra and I had never exactly been friends. I wasn't sure why, but she always seemed to avoid me like the plague when I worked down in records. But Marcus and she were really close and I was hoping that she would want to find out who killed him as much as I did.

"Yeah, I think I can."

"You think?"

"I know I can." I picked up the pad and tried to avoid those penetrating blue eyes.

Riley continued to stare at me as if she couldn't figure out if I was telling the truth or not. I hated feeling as if I was lying to her. The truth was, I just didn't know if I could trust Chandra.

"She was a good friend of Marcus'. We worked in records together when the Captain put me down there after Smitty's death. We… Chandra and I were still sort of feeling each other out when all hell broke loose."

Riley's eyes continued to probe mine. "So you're going to ask her about what Marcus was working on then?"

"Yeah, but I also thought she might be able to run these names for me." The records department has access to the same databases that I had when I worked a case. "It's very possible that whoever these people are, they may come up in the system."

"And if they do?"

"Then we go talk to them."

"Foster, I'm not so sure I like the idea of all these people seeing you."

"I don't know any of these people, Riley. How could they recognize me?" I said, vaguely exasperated and trying not to show it.

"Okay," she said, and got up so suddenly that I knew I had made her angry. She walked over to the cabinets and looked inside. "There isn't any food here, are you hungry? I can go get something."

I closed my eyes for a minute and stood. "You just went to the store, you're trying to avoid me. Why are you so upset?" I asked softly as I encircled her waist.

"You said you would be careful." Her tone was flat, almost as if she was afraid to let me know she was angry with me. I remembered how she dealt with people that she didn't know at the club. Cold and impersonal, I hated it.

"I know and I will."

"She works with cops, Foster. What if she…"

I pressed the side of my face into her back. To my surprise she turned around and hugged me back.

"Chandra won't turn me in, okay? Please trust me. I know her. She will want to get the bastards that killed Marcus as much as I do." I felt Riley sigh and realized just how tense she had been as her muscles relaxed beneath my hands. "It's late. Why don't we get some sleep?"

She willingly allowed me to lead her to the bed, neither of us having the energy to be apart long enough to shower in the cramped bathroom. I lay awake long after Riley's breathing had evened out.

I had told Riley that I was positive Chandra wouldn't turn me in. It was more than just a little fib. I wasn't at all sure Chandra wouldn't turn me in. I was banking all my trust in her friendship with Marcus. I hoped that I was right because if I wasn't….

I pulled Riley closer and smiled grimly as she returned my embrace even in her sleep.

Waiting for Chandra proved to be a pain in the ass. I could tell Riley was still struggling with my plan but I had mulled it over all night and figured the benefits of talking to Chandra outweighed the risks. It was the only way I could get the information that I needed. Chandra had access to the same files as Marcus.

The bang of the mailbox and the jangle of keys in the door sent Riley and I scurrying. I had already told her that I wanted her to hide until I got a chance to talk to Chandra, so that I could gauge her reaction to me. I didn't want her seeing Riley if she wasn't going to help us.

"FB, come on. It's time to eat, hun."

"Uh, Chandra?"

"What the fuck?" She turned around suddenly, swinging a big ass purse. I reached for my gun with one hand and held the other out to calm her.

"Chandra, hold on. It's me, Foster." She paused, glared hard at me and then swung the purse again, this time barely missing my head.

"What the fuck are you trying to do, scare the shit out of me, Lily?"

"Uh, no. I just want to talk to you for a minute, okay?" I noticed that I still had my hand out so I slowly lowered it as she caught her breath. "Calm down, please."

"You fucking calm down. Some crazy shit has been happening." She glared at me for a minute. "And you know what? I just bet you're the cause of most of it."

"Look, I don't know what the hell you're talking about." She had hit a bit too close to home with that last comment. "I'm here to find out what happened to Marcus."

"I don't know what happened to Marcus, okay? If I did I probably wouldn't tell you anyway. The police say it was a hate crime and maybe that's all it was." She turned and stormed into the kitchen and started slamming cabinet doors.

I looked toward the living room where Riley was still hiding. It would be easy to just go over there, tell her that's it and drive back to the cabin tonight. But I couldn't do that…not until I was sure.

I reluctantly followed her into the kitchen. "Shit, Chandra, will you just listen please?"

"I don't want to hear shit you have to say, Lily."

"I just need your help, okay? Can you at least tell me what Marcus was working on?"

She took down the large container marked FB and sat it on the counter. "Look, all I know is things got weird after you left. Marcus started looking at some files and shit and then some guys that I've never even seen before came in and took your computer. Thing is, everybody knows that they are after you for something, but nobody knows what it is. They've kept it really hush-hush. I asked Marcus if he knew what was going on and he said no, but that he was going to find out. Then he turns up dead. See, I think it had something to do with you!" Her eyes bore into mine and I felt the sickening nausea of guilt as it settled in my stomach. "I think he was trying to help you and it got him killed. So pardon me if I ask you to stay the fuck away from me, 'cause if I wanted a death sentence, I would go suck on a crack pipe. Least I would feel good before I committed suicide."

"Damn it, I told…." I suddenly wanted, no needed, out of Marcus' house. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. Marcus was still looking into the case; it was even possible that he had been killed because of me. I stood there opening and closing my mouth as pain settled in the base of my throat. It was almost too quiet.

"I don't want no part of what you're selling, Lily, so why don't you just leave. Seems to me you've already got enough people hurt." Her voice held a note of compassion in it almost as if she knew I was hurting, but couldn't do anything to help me. Hell, I didn't know what to do to help me. I needed to see Riley.

"Chandra, please…I just need..." I stopped and swallowed. I couldn't seem to think clearly. Had I given Marcus a death sentence? Should I have been more firm when I told him to stop looking into things?"

"Foster?"

"Ahhh shit, what the hell?" Chandra jumped as Riley suddenly appeared from behind the couch. "How many fucking people you got in here?"

"You were supposed to stay out of sight," I said with absolutely no conviction. I felt like my energy had been drained. Riley didn't bother answering me; she just grabbed my hand and looked at Chandra with a scowl that nearly joined her two dark eyebrows together. I don't think I had ever seen Riley so angry with anyone before and I was really glad it wasn't directed at me.

"Let's go. You don't need her help."

I allowed her to pull me toward the door feeling as if I was in a nightmare that wouldn't end. First Smitty and now Marcus.

"Lily, wait!"

Riley turned around suddenly and I have to admit that if I had been in my right mind I would have stepped back from her. As it was, Chandra was the only one that was smart enough to be afraid.

"Don't!" was the only word Riley said, but it was said with such fierceness that I felt the need to tug at Riley's hand to get her to look at me.

"It's okay," I told her. "Let's just go."

"Uh, F-Foster. Look, um, what did you want, anyway?" She looked nervously at the still scowling Riley and then back at me.

"No, it's okay, Chandra, you're right. I don't want to bring any more people into this."

"Just…tell me what you want, okay? I'll tell you if I can help you or not."

A meow next to my right foot made me looked down before I answered. A longhaired white and orange cat, about the size of a small dog, was standing next to me. I moved out of the way and it walked daintily into the kitchen with the elegance of a queen. Well, the whole thing would have been regal if not for the large dingle berries hanging off its ass.

"We found some names. Smitty's and mine along with a few others that I don't recognize. I was wondering if you could run them to see what comes up."

Chandra looked at Riley and me for a minute like she was trying to determine if we were trustworthy. Then she nodded. "Let me see the names."

I pulled the neatly printed list out of my pocket and handed it to her.

She looked down at it for a moment and then up at me. "Okay, I'll see what I can do." I grinned and she looked at me sternly. "I said, I would see. I ain't making no promises, so don't get all happy and shit."

I nodded. "All right, that's cool."

"Can I speak to you for a minute?" Chandra looked nervously at Riley.

"Uh yeah, I…Riley?" Riley was already walking toward the living room when I turned toward her. I watched her go frowning. Is she angry with me now? I didn't even do anything.

Chandra and I walked into the kitchen and she sat a bowl of water on the floor for FB. She peeked around the door and then whispered to me. "Where the hell did you find her?"

"She's my friend, I didn't find her anywhere," I said evenly. Chandra was free to insult me to her heart's content. What can I say, she's right, but that freedom did not extend to Riley. I told her with my eyes that she had better watch her step.

"I thought she was going to kill me 'cause I called you Lily," she said.

"Yeah, what the hell is that all about, anyway? I mean you obviously know my name, right?"

Chandra waved me off and glowered at me. "I don't know what you're in to and frankly, I don't give a shit. Once I get you this info, I want you out of my hair for good, okay?"

"Yeah, Chandra, I understand. Thank you very much for helping me. I appreciate it." She glowered at me harder. "What?" Damn there was no pleasing this woman.

"You're being too nice."

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh my God, is that you?" She pointed toward the living room and I tried to pretend like I didn't know what she was talking about. I couldn't help the silly assed grin that spread across my face. As inappropriate as it was, I was proud when the look of admiration crossed her face. "I didn't know you had it in you."

I'm thinking I should have felt insulted, but I just shrugged. "Anyway, so when do you think you're going to get back to me, Chandra?"

"I can try to look into it tomorrow. I've been working weekends and overtime until they can get me some help down there. I'll try to do it while there's nobody under foot."

"Okay, well, I'll give you Riley's cell number and you can call us if you find anything." Chandra wrote the number down and I went in search of Riley. I found her sitting on the stairs looking pensively at the door.

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah," she said quietly, but she didn't move.

I offered her my hand and pulled her to her feet. I tried to catch her eye, but she seemed to be avoiding me for some reason so I reluctantly let her hand go and turned toward the door. A light pressure on my hips stopped me from opening it and Riley turned me around. I smiled at her as I noticed the sheepish look on her face. She gave my hips a squeeze and pulled me a bit closer. I wrapped my arms around her waist and waited for her to speak.

"Sorry about losing it back there," she said.

I grinned. "That's how you lose it, huh?" She nodded, her face darkening a shade or two.

"Man, remind me to tell you a few stories." I stood on tiptoe and gave her a peck on the lips before opening the door and peering outside. I pulled her along with me until we reached the Blazer.

I opened her door for her and went around to my side. I glanced at her before I started the car and steered us towards the freeway. "You know, ever since I was about thirteen or fourteen I would blow up at the drop of a hat. I just couldn't seem to control of my anger."

"What changed it?" A peek at her from the corner of my eye told me that she was really interested in knowing.

"It hasn't changed really, but I think when I joined the police force it helped me redirect some of it." I bit my bottom lip. "I don't think I liked myself all that much, you know, when I was lashing out, but…I didn't know if I could stop doing it."

"You were a lot calmer than I was back there."

"I was, wasn't I?" I grinned at her and a small smile threatened to take over her somber expression. "Hey, Riley?"

"Yeah?"

"Why did you get so mad at Chandra?"

"Because she was teasing you, Foster. And you were being nothing but polite to her."

"You mean with the Lily thing?" I glanced at her. She was tugging at her bottom lip with a deep frown on her face.

"Yeah." With a sigh she let go of her lip, her hand falling to her lap with a light slap. "When I was in grade school there was this girl, she got picked on even more than I did."

"Yeah?" A quick glance at Riley told me she was staring out the window.

"Her parents were…I don't know what they were, Pentecostal I think." Riley shook her head. "Anyway, they wouldn't let her wear pants. She would always wear these long white socks and these really long corduroy skirts with flowers on them."

"So they teased her about that, huh?"

"Yeah and she was also sort of pale so the kids at school called her Lily."

"Oh." I frowned. "So that's why Chandra calls me that?" I glanced over at Riley's sad, solemn face. "Well damn, that's sort of fucked up, isn't it?" I grinned at Riley and shook my head.

"Yeah, it is," she said quietly.

"Yup," I snickered. "Lily, huh?" I was a little embarrassed that I hadn't caught on.

"Yeah, Lily White."

"Damn." I started to laugh and soon I was laughing so hard that I was snorting. Which caused me to have to squeeze my knees together so I didn't pee my pants. Riley was leaning heavily against the passenger side door probably in equal parts horror and amusement at the noises I was making. Her whole body was shaking and tears were streaming down her face. We tried to stop laughing several times but then one of us would start up again causing the other one to start as well. I got the feeling we were both laughing at something other than just Chandra calling me Lily. My mind would not allow me to put my finger on it, but for some reason I just felt a deep sense of relief. Like I had let go of baggage that I hadn't known I was carrying.

Riley made a really nice dinner though she still seemed a bit quiet, and I was more than a little worried about her. Her head was down and she was toying with her food. "This is a wonderful dinner. Thank you."

She looked up then. "You're welcome."

"You want to tell me what's wrong?"

She carefully lay her fork down. "Do you think I need to lighten up?"

I sat my fork down as well wondering exactly how I was supposed to answer that question. "I love the way you are," I said carefully. Oh yeah I think that worked. I got a smile. I would have patted myself on the back if she weren't sitting across from me.

"No. I mean I…do you think I take things too seriously?"

"Huh?" Damn, I don't know if that's going to buy me much time, but…

"The way I reacted today? I was so mad at her for making fun of you when you were trying to ask her for help. You didn't seem all that mad about it and you said yourself that you have a temper."

I tilted my head. Wow, she really wants to know. "I don't know, Riley, it just seemed sort of funny to me, you know. I mean, here I am thinking she and I have a little pet name or something. And she was making fun of me. It made me feel a little stupid at first, but it was still sort of funny. But I understand where you were coming from. I didn't like when Sherm called you "The Big One" either."

"Well, that was different."

"How so? He wasn't being nice, he might as well have called you my flunky or something. And you're so much more than just muscle. You're sweet and you're smart and…"

"And I'm big, Foster," she said softly. "I work really hard on my body. I don't care if it's the only thing people see at first, he doesn't know me."

I nodded. "Well, that's how I feel, too."

"But didn't it hurt your feelings that she called you that?"

"Yeah, a little, but…there's only one person in this whole world that I give a shit about and that's…that's you. Chandra and everyone else can laugh at me all they want," I shrugged and said lamely, "as long as I have you."

She picked up her fork and began eating again. I picked up mine, too, but I couldn't seem to get myself to put any food in my mouth. I sat there glaring down at my plate. I hope I got that right. I don't know what I'm supposed to say, but it's how I feel. Suddenly I wasn't all that hungry anymore.

"Foster?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to be ready for bed after you finish eating?"

"Um." I looked up at the clock. "It's only 7:30."

"Yeah?" She looked up for a minute, toying with her veggies. An extremely seductive smile played at the corners of her mouth.

"Oh, uh, well yeah, that's good. Bed is good."

"Good," she said, not breaking eye contact with me.

I grinned and went back to my meal. Relationships weren't so bad; I was thinking I was pretty damn good at it.

She's trying to kill me.

I thought that just before my hips rose off the bed and were suddenly held down by two strong hands. Riley's tongue was tormenting me. Every time I tried to quicken my pace she would stop me or slow down. I wanted to tell her to stop teasing, but I couldn't seem to verbalize anything other than a whimper or a moan. Suddenly she sucked my tormented bundle of nerves between her lips and began working her tongue rapidly across the tip sending me into convulsions. Strong hands gripped my buttocks and held me firmly in place as my stomach muscles clenched and my fingers gripped the bedding so hard that I could hear the sheets coming loose at the corners. I was sobbing her name and I couldn't seem to make myself shut up. She gentled her tongue as my orgasm slowed.

I blinked up at the dim outline of the clouds and wondered if I was too old to start an active sex life. My heart felt like it was about to burst from my chest at any moment. My hand went to the dark head that now lay on my hip.

It was another fifteen minutes until I was capable of speaking. "You're going to kill me one day, baby." I let my fingers sink into her thick hair with a final deep sigh.

She looked up at me, a grin on her face. "Not unless I can go with you."

"Oh yeah? You want to go together, huh? Well, we'll see about that." I pulled her up in the bed easily, probably because she was allowing me to. I don't know that Riley and I had slept a full hour and now, it was ten past noon and we were still in bed. If someone would have told me that I would make love all night and most of the day, I would have reminded them that crack kills. I had never had any aspirations to make love for that long, but now, well I just couldn't seem to get enough of her.

We wrestled playfully for a moment until I pinned her hands above her head and began placing little kisses up her neck and along her jaw line and finally around her right ear. I heard her gasp as I eased my leg between her thighs and began to move teasingly against her.

"You are so wet, Riley." Her response was another gasp and a shiver. She turned her head. The braid she usually wore had long since come undone leaving the delicate curve of her right ear exposed to my lips as I moved against her. I kissed her ear again and felt her inhale sharply. I looked down to make sure she was okay and noticed that she was biting her bottom lip. I kissed her ear again and she had the same reaction. Frowning, I slowed my movements. "Do you like that, Baby?" I whispered. She inhaled again, her breathing so ragged that it almost scared me. Riley didn't make much noise when we made love; it was something I noticed the first time we were together.

"Sweetheart, is it okay?" I whispered again, and the hands that were always gently on my waist helping me to move against her, suddenly tightened and small chill bumps rose on the skin just below her collarbone. She was more than okay. She really liked this. I cupped her head with my hands and put my lips to the curve of her ear.

"Riley, I can feel how much you want me." She inhaled sharply and I continued to whisper. "I love how wet you are. How you smell. How you grit your teeth when you're close. How you watch me when I have an orgasm. Does that turn you on, baby? Knowing how much I want you?" A small noise escaped from her throat but other than that, she continued to move in rhythm with me. "I love touching you," I whispered, my eyes closing as her breathing became even raspier. "I love feeling how strong and hard you are underneath such soft skin."

She moaned and my body delighted at the sound. I could tell she was losing control. What was thrilling was that I was barely moving against her now. My thigh firmly pressed into her center, I whispered hotly into her right ear, "But you know what I love most of all?" I asked, and she answered with a swallow and shake of her head. "I love how you look when you come." I let my lips graze her ear and almost immediately her grip on my hips tightened. I held on to her as her hips began to move violently, a deep groan escaping from her normally silent lips. I gradually slowed my movements, letting her dictate when she wanted me to stop. Finally her hips sank weakly onto the bed.

"Riley?" I gently turned her head so that she could look at me. Her eyes were still closed and she blinked a few times before she could look at me. I was still pressed firmly against her so I knew she was still experiencing small convulsions. "You okay?"

"Yes," she said shyly. I had to smile down at her. I couldn't imagine why I was suddenly feeling so protective towards her.

"Wow," I said softly, causing her to blush, which turned me on even more. "You should have told me."

"I didn't know."

"So nobody else has ever…?"

"No."

"Oh." I smiled down at her and she got the cutest look on her face.

"I don't think I could…that was sort of…"

"What?" I asked her in a near whisper. Her eyes grew large and I cupped both sides of her face and smiled. I moved my thigh closer to her and smiled again as I felt her clench against me. I slowly and gently turned her head so that I was close to her right ear and I whispered. "We can go together, remember?" I grinned evilly as she sucked in a breath. I was just about to whisper my deepest, darkest secrets to her when her cell phone started clamoring against the Formica countertop causing us both to freeze.

"You should…you should answer that," she said.

"Uh huh," I growled as I clambered off the bed and grabbed her phone off the counter.

"Hello?" I barked into the phone, my eyes still on my lover who was trying to push her hair back out of her face with a tired hand.

"Foster, what's wrong with you answering the phone like that? Didn't your momma ever teach you no…"

"No, she didn't. Now what's up, Chandra?" I snapped.

"Well ain't that a… I thought you wanted ….did I interrupt…. it's nearly one o'clock in the afternoon, you heathen," Chandra cackled.

"You're just jealous."

"Damn right. That's some nice looking woman you got…"

"Hey, I'm not going to sit on this phone while you fantasize about my girlfriend." I turned my back as Riley mouthed "girlfriend" with a huge smile on her face. "So what's up? Did you find anything?"

"Well, I only had time to do a query on Nathan Stein."

"Oh yeah? What did you find?" I sat down on one of the chairs in Riley's small kitchen and picked up the pen from the table, wincing as the chill hit my bottom.

"Not much I'm afraid." I heard her shuffling papers.

"Okay, just tell me what you got so far."

"Well, he was arrested about four years ago for child endangerment and abuse. It was dismissed though. He had a record as long as my arm up to that point dating back…well shit, he probably had juvenile records too."

"Four years, huh? Nothing after that?"

"Nope, nothing."

"Hey, wait. You got an address on this guy?"

"Yeah," Chandra read off the last known address for Stein, as well as the phone number. "Hey, I need to go. I'll call you if I find anything on the others but it probably won't be today. I'm getting busy over here. Oh, and by the way, you forgot to sign off on the arrest report."

"Wait. What?"

"Says here Smitty was the arresting officer but neither of you signed off on the documentation."

"Nah, it wasn't me. I wasn't Smitty's partner back then."

"Well, Smitty checked it out a few days before he…died. Damn it, who spilled coffee on this…Foster, I got to go." Chandra hung up the phone before I could question her further.

Riley had gotten up and gone to the bathroom during the conversation and I hadn't even noticed.

"Everything okay?" she asked as she passed by me.

"Huh? Oh yeah."

"What's wrong?"

"That was Chandra."

"I figured." Riley lay back down on the bed and I got up to join her.

"She got some info on one of the names on the list." I filled Riley in on Stein's crimes and the fact that we now had an address and phone number. "At least the one from four years ago."

"Okay, is that why you looked so confused?"

"Chandra said the case belonged to Smitty."

"Would that have been so unusual?"

"No, I guess not. My division didn't even open until about three years ago so it's possible that Smitty could have been assigned something like this before we partnered up." I frowned. It did seem sort of odd that as close as I considered myself to be to Smitty, I didn't know much about his previous partner or the cases they were on. "Anyway, Chandra said that Smitty checked it out a few days before his death. The only reason I would think that Smitty would check out that file is if he thought it was related to something in our existing caseload. Maybe a similar MO, but he never mentioned it to me and this guy's name doesn't ring a bell."

"Didn't you say you were bad with names?"

"Yeah," I had to concede. "But I usually remember the assholes that hurt children. I have nightmares…." I looked at Riley's face and shook my head. "I don't normally forget those. Chandra said that Smitty was the arresting officer for this guy about four years ago and that I forgot to sign off on the paperwork but..."

"You've only been Smitty's partner for three," Riley finished for me.

"Exactly!

"Whoever was his partner at the time didn't sign the reports, but it wasn't me." I ran my fingers along Riley's arm and frowned. "His partner would probably know what significance this guy had to Smitty but we can't just walk up to him and ask. He would probably haul my ass in. I'm afraid we might be shit out of luck on that end."

"Then what can we do?"

"We can pay Mr. Nathan Stein a visit."

Riley and I decided to head over to speak to Stein after lunch. Once again the drive over was quiet. I was starting to realize that Riley's silences were not meant to be punishment for me, but were her way of handling stress. I wished I could say something to ease her fears, but I was feeling a bit anxious myself.

"Turn right here." She made the turn with an almost imperceptible nod. Modest one story track homes morphed into two story newly built homes that led to huge palatial estates the more turns we made. "Right here," I told Riley quietly and we both stared open-mouthed. The home's mud colored exterior was nothing like the other older homes in the area and its impeccably manicured landscape, easing around the house, no doubt led to a swimming pool. Probably shaped like a dollar sign, I thought dryly.

"Is this the right address?" Riley ducked her head to get a better look.

"Yup, it's the last known address we had listed."

"Oh," she said.

"Hmm." I looked at the other two homes nearest to Nathan Stein's. Although they were equally impressive, they looked older. Riley seemed to be of the same mindset.

"I bet he was building this house about the time he got arrested," I said.

"Maybe, it couldn't be very old. Two to three years tops."

"How can you tell for sure?"

"I can tell because they didn't make roofs like that up until recently," she pointed with her chin towards the roof. "Also, if you look at it, it sort of looks like the track homes we passed to get here."

"Yeah, it does," I admitted. Although the place was much larger than the homes we had passed, it still had many similarities; as if whoever had built the track homes had been given carte blanche to build this place.

"Not where you would expect to find a child abuser living, huh?" I said dryly.

"No, not really."

I opened the door to the truck and got out. "It's not really a class thing, it's just like anything else. The poor are the one's who seem to do the most time. You sure you want to come with me?"

She nodded. "I'm coming, Foster."

I sighed. "Okay, but let me do the talking." Riley rolled her eyes and I grinned because I always did the talking. "Hey, you didn't mind me talking earlier."

Riley's eyebrows went up and she blinked a few times. "Uh no, I guess I didn't."

"Couldn't think of a snappy comeback, huh?" I called over my shoulder as I walked up to the doorway.

"No."

My happy grin faded the closer we came to the distressed wood door. Who the hell was this Nathan Stein anyway? And what the hell did he have to do with Marcus, or Smitty and I for that matter? I ignored the doorbell and lifted the large knocker. The door was opened while I still held the fashionably rusted door ornament in my hand. A woman of about thirty, with brown hair and eyes stood there looking at me, her expression unreadable. First impression? Cold-hearted bitch. Long lashes closed slightly as she looked Riley and I up and down. A well-manicured hand went to a nonexistent hip that was incased in a bright orange, one-piece workout suit. She looked like all the women I hated rolled into one person. You know, the type that walks around the grocery store in their workout gear? You gotta figure they either didn't really workout or are walking around with dewy crotches and an odor waiting to happen.

"That's for decoration," she said tightly.

"Huh?" Yup, I'm the talker all right.

"The knocker…it's for decoration. It's antique. It came off of a monk's monastery in… Never mind." She shook her head as if she was wondering why she was explaining art to a couple of peasants. "May I help you with something?"

"I sure hope so, ma'am." I gave her a polite smile and flashed her the fake badge and credentials that Sherm had gotten for us. She looked at the badge and I slapped the cover shut before she could notice that, not only was the picture not me, but the badge was for the Boulder Colorado Police and not LAPD. "May I ask your name, ma'am?"

"Caroline," she bit out. Her thin lips stubbornly refused to move over the 'o' in Caroline, so it came out Care-line.

"I'm sorry, Carrroooolinnne…" I drew her name out while shaking my head as if her last name escaped me. I was hoping she would volunteer the information without me having to ask her again.

She frowned at me and waited about four ticks before saying a tight, "Stein."

Bingo.

"Ma'am, would it be possible for us to come in and talk to you?" She seemed to mull that over, but obviously couldn't think of any reason not to allow us into her home because she reluctantly opened the door wide and we stepped in. She led us into a nicely decorated living room. Leather couch, neutral walls and a distressed wood armoire. She sat down in a large chair across from us and I noted a fireplace directly behind her with a ledge that looked as if it were made of a large piece of wood protruding from the adobe walls.

Several pictures lined the ledge, most of them were of Caroline but two in particular caught my eye. One was of a man with painfully short hair, almost military in nature. His stern brow was creased as if he was frowning into the sun and his chin was dimpled almost to contradict the harshness of his expression. The other was a family portrait. The same man was holding a newborn at an angle so that a picture could be taken. His expression was no different from the other picture. Caroline Stein stood next to him, the smile on her face was strained and there was just enough space in between their bodies to verify what I had already guessed. Drama queen though she was Caroline Stein did not look like a happy new mother in that picture. Her expression reminded me of so many other battered women I had seen that I was tempted to reach in my pocket for the card that I used to carry with me when I wore a uniform. The one with the names of the closest battered women's shelters. I was almost relieved when I didn't recognize him at all. Up until that moment I had half wondered if I had been mistaken and I had arrested him for something.

I gave a cursory look around the home, my eyes taking in the curved walls and Berber carpet. All very expensive and very new. Through a patio door I saw a swimming pool. Though not shaped like a dollar sign, it was large enough to be Olympic size. The gurgling of a small pool next to it was what alerted me to the Jacuzzi. My nostrils flared as I thought of the cabin up in Albion. I dared not look at Riley, I was sure she was probably thinking the same thing I was.

"What can I do for you, Officer?" I could tell I would have to tell her my name or she would get suspicious if she wasn't already.

"Jones," I said easily as I reached out to shake her hand. She nodded and reached over to shake Riley's hand as well, so I quickly jumped right in. I didn't want her to ask Riley's name. One false officer named Jones was a lot easier to hide than two.

"Ma'am, we were wondering if we could talk to Nathan Stein." There it was again, that tight mouth. I wondered if she was going to ask for a warrant.

"Don't you people keep track of these things?" her eyes were blinking furiously.

Ah shit! I decided to take a page from Riley's book and didn't say anything. The silence must have gotten to her, because in no time at all she was talking.

"My…husband," she said in what I could see was going to be the beginning of a serious bout of tears, "my husband was reported missing last month, Officer Jones. I would think the LAPD would know that since I filed a missing persons report with them." She looked at me suspiciously. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. If she called and checked our credentials we were screwed. "If you're not here about that then why are you here?" she asked suspiciously.

I pulled the tiny recorder out of my pocket and pressed record. "Ma'am, would you mind if we record this conversation?"

"What for?" she asked her eyes shifting from me to Riley and back again.

"It's just a formality. I use it so that I don't have to worry about whether or not I misinterpreted something you say," I explained in a voice that probably was mechanical. I had to explain this nearly every time I asked. As if the tape recorder could somehow interpret whether or not a person was lying better than my ear. I don't know why I even bothered. For all intents and purposes, I was no longer a cop. I had already broken so many laws it seemed ridiculous to let a little thing like privacy become an issue.

"Fine, can we please get this over with? Frankly I don't know why you're even here. I don't know anymore than I've already told the other officers."

"Uh, ma'am, we have reason to believe that your husband may have information that we need for another case."

"Well, I would doubt that!" she said it as if she thought it would be highly unlikely that her husband would have anything to do with the likes of us. Interesting, I thought as I finally figured out exactly why Mrs. Caroline Stein talked the way she did. A woman her age with braces? Not unheard of but….

I decided to get to the point of the visit before this woman decided she needed to go floss or something. "Mrs. Stein, how long were you and Mr. Stein married?"

"Five years. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Were you aware that Mr. Stein was arrested for child abuse?"

She inhaled sharply and any sign that she was distressed disappeared as if she had two personalities. "Officer Jones, my husband was a minister to many. He went out of his way to teach children right from wrong. The bible says spare the rod, spoil the child."

Now my mouth tightened. "Ma'am, your husband was arrested for child abuse not a spanking…"

"I understand that," she said tightly, the plastic stoppers on her teeth completely visible now as her lips drew back in a snarl before it too disappeared.

"That girl lied because she was given a spanking after not doing her chores. You know how these things are, don't you? Children get in trouble and they tell lies on their parents because they are spiteful." She shrugged as if to say that settled everything. "She admitted that she'd lied and the charges were dropped. It's just too bad that so many were hurt as a direct result of that child's deceit."

I looked over at Riley but her expression was neutral. I wondered if she was thinking about her own situation. According to Rachel, her own mother had accused her of doing the same thing.

"So your husband makes his living as a minister?"

"He has many small business investments."

I looked around the home slowly. I could almost hear her nails digging into the palm of her hand. "Small huh? So then his main source of income would have to be ministering to his…flock?" I raised my eyebrows innocently.

"My husband has yet to rebuild his congregation after the fall out of that," Caroline Stein said bitterly.

I looked around the house. "Really? Seems to me like your doing okay."

Suddenly she was back in her grieving widow mode. "Why are you bringing this up? My husband is missing for God's sake. And as far as I know, you people haven't done anything but ask me questions about that damn abuse charge." Her sobbing grew almost hysterical and I felt Riley shift next to me. "Why can't you just go find him? Why do you need to bring this stuff up?"

"Care? Are you crying, sweetheart?" A bare-chested man of about twenty- two hurried into the room. Instantly the crying fit stopped and the stranger, who I noted was dressed in nothing but a towel, slid to a halt when he noticed Riley and I. His towel hung just low enough to leave no doubt in my mind that either he was wearing a very revealing swimsuit or nothing at all. His shock of curling blond hair reminded me of some child I saw once on TV or something, maybe it was Shirley Temple. Anyway, it was not an attractive characteristic on a young man. I watched as he received the evil eye from Care.

"I'm Officer Jones. And you are?" I said quickly.

"Uh, Terry…Terry Powell." Good manners won out as he reached out and shook hands with both Riley and I. I tried not to wince as I shook his hand. His grip was soft, limp and vaguely moist; exactly what I would think it would feel like to shake hands with a cadaver. His eyes went from mine to Care's, probably trying to figure out which was the lesser of two evils. Finally he settled on me.

I looked at Care and said nicely, "I'm sorry, did we interrupt you?"

"No," she said, all tears having dried up. She probably figured out that they were wasted on me.

"Terry is my personal trainer. He was just cleaning up before he headed out."

I looked at Terry with my brow raised; he looked exceedingly uncomfortable. I had my doubts that he was her personal trainer and I also wondered if that was the end of his duties for Mrs. Stein. As there was no way for me to find that out, I decided to let her off the hook. Besides, I could care less what Mrs. Stein did, I was interested in her husband. I allowed her to lead us to the door.

"Your daughter must be taking your husband's disappearance pretty hard?"

"I don't have a daughter Officer Jones."

"I'm sorry, I saw the picture on the mantel. I just assumed…." She opened the door and Riley walked out of it. There had been something in Caroline Stein's voice that told me that I had finally gotten a rise out of her. "Oh, one more thing," I stopped halfway out the door. "Do you happen to remember the names of the officers who arrested your husband?" I didn't expect her to know the answer to the question, I really just wanted to fuck with her.

"Now why in the hell would I remember that? Can't you go look it up or something? This is ridiculous. You should be looking for him instead of harassing me." And with that she slammed the door in my face.

"Whew," I shook my head as I caught up with Riley. "That was fun, huh?"

"Yeah."

I opened Riley's door and got in on the other side.

"What now?" she asked as she put on her seatbelt.

"Now we call Chandra and see if she has anything else for us. I also want her to get me the details of this guy's disappearance, see if it's somehow related."

"What if she doesn't have anything on the other names?"

"Then we try to work with what we have."

I frowned as we sat at a stoplight. A man stood on the median, his clothes slightly in disarray and a bag of large oranges held out to the cars that were waiting to get through the intersection. "Hey, did you see those pictures above the fireplace?"

"Yeah, I saw them."

"What did you think about them?"

Riley shrugged. "I don't know. I wondered who the baby was."

"Yeah, so did I. It didn't look anything like Nathan Stein."

"I hadn't noticed. Hey, Foster, something odd that I did notice."

"What's that, love?" I asked as I pulled onto the freeway.

"That guy Terry? I don't know if he is her personal trainer."

"Oh yeah? Why do you say that? He looked pretty fit to me."

"Well, it's not that. It was his hands."

His hands. I shivered as I remembered how his handshake had given me a chill. "Yeah, kind of grossed me out, too. Her handshake was a lot more firm than his."

"That's not what I meant," she said quietly. She grabbed my hand and held it for a minute before she shifted it so that my thumb was inside hers. I absently rubbed her palm with my thumb as I tried to understand where she was going with this. I loved the feel of Riley's hands. They were large and strong; the calluses that she had built up from working out drove me crazy when she touched my skin. The contrast between her gentleness and the obvious strength in her hands… "Oh…oh, you mean he didn't have calluses."

"Right," she grinned happily.

"But do all personal trainers weight train?"

"No, not necessarily. But do you remember shaking hands with her?" I frowned as I tried to remember her firm handshake.

"Shit. She did have calluses."

"Yeah, she did. Just like mine."

"Nah, nothing like yours." I gave her hand a squeeze and a tug, which got me another grin in return. "So you think if she weight trains, as her personal trainer he would too."

I saw her shrug out of the corner of my eye. "It could mean nothing. He could be her aerobics instructor or something. He could also wear gloves. But I wear gloves and I still get them. I just thought it was worth mentioning."

"Yeah, but usually when people say personal trainer they mean just that. I hadn't picked up on it. If I was working her hubby's disappearance I would certainly be interested in why Powell is in the house, naked as the day he was born only a month after Stein's disappearance. Maybe we can have Chandra look it up."

"Think she will?"

"Don't know 'til I ask her.

Back at the theater, the first thing I did was to call Chandra. When she answered the phone, her voice sounded harried. I rolled my eyes at Riley letting her know that Chandra was not in the best of moods. "Hi, Chandra."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Nothing much, can you talk?"

"A little, they sent me two people that together don't do half the work in a day that you did in one hour." I felt strangely pleased at the backhanded compliment.

"Did you find anything on the other names?"

"No, nothing."

"Damn!"

"Weird though," she continued.

"What's weird?" I paused, running my fingers through my hair roughly a few times in frustration.

"On a whim I ran a cross reference with the socials on the other three names."

"You can do that?" I perked up." What did it bring up?"

"Well, I got nothing there either."

Riley placed a glass of water in front of me, which I drank without thought. "Hang on. You should have gotten something?"

"Exactly right, Einstein."

"Aliases? Those are all aliases?"

"Yeah, they would have to be. I guess it's possible that one of them wouldn't have a social security number, but all of them?"

"Hot damn, nice work, Chandra!" I crowed happily until I realized that the info left me absolutely nowhere. If the aliases didn't come up when Chandra ran the check in the first place then they were probably not in the system. Where in the hell did Marcus get the names then? I pondered before I realized that Chandra was waiting on the other end of the line. "Shit…hey Chandra, can you do one more thing for me, please?"

She sighed. "What is it?"

"Nathan Stein, can you check to see if a missing persons was filed on him?"

"Yeah, I can do that. When do you need it?"

"As soon as possible and is there any way I can get a copy of his original arrest report?" I waited for her to blow up at me.

"I guess I can do that too."

"Great, how about I meet you over at Marcus' place tonight?"

"Nah, I went ahead and gave FB to a friend of mine, Beverley. She just broke up with her boyfriend and she needed company. I don't want the neighbors getting suspicious. Why don't you meet me at the Big Ol' Burger on 5th?"

"Okay. Tonight?" I asked. I knew I was pushing it, but hell I had been lucky so far.

"Yeah, yeah tonight. Look I should go before these two fuck up something else." The click in my ear was in lieu of Chandra saying goodbye, but I didn't mind at all. I filled Riley in on what Chandra said about the social security numbers.

"Now what do we do?" she asked.

"The fun part. We sit and wait."

Big Ol' Burger was known for…well, its big ol' burgers. Though they were known to have the best burgers in town, cops avoided the place because it was frequented by a lot of locals. There was nothing worse than trying to enjoy a burger and having someone ask you what you're going to do about that crack house next door. Riley and I waited in the parking lot for about ten minutes before all of the greasy bags leaving the place finally got to me. It had been a few hours since lunch and I could have done with a nice hamburger. I was even able to convince Riley that she should try one. I was slowly but surely winning her over to my way of thinking. I ordered two burgers and a large criss-cut fry. My eyes scanned the crowded restaurant but I didn't see Chandra. It was already well after seven and I was beginning to get worried. I hoped she hadn't forgotten, or worse yet, got caught making copies of the file.

At Big Ol' Burger they give you a hamburger patty with a large bun and you are allowed to pile all the condiments you want on top of your burger. It was one of the things that I loved about the place. I watched as Riley enthusiastically added lettuce, tomato and a pickle to her plate. No mayo and no mustard.

We sat down in a booth far away from the other patrons and with a clear view of the door so that we could keep an eye out for Chandra. I looked down at my fries and hopped back up. "Shit, I forgot something."

Back at the condiments, I filled a cup with Ranch dressing. I had to have Ranch dressing with my criss-cut fries, it was a given. Just as I was turning to head back to Riley, I spotted Chandra coming through the door wearing blue jeans and a dark blue pullover sweater. I had never seen her outside of her work clothes so I almost didn't recognize her.

"Hey," she said as she walked up breathing heavily, "sorry I'm late. I decided to change first."

"No problem." I pointed with my cup of Ranch. "We're over there." Riley had just bitten into her burger so she dipped her head in greeting to Chandra instead of speaking with her mouth full. Chandra giggled nervously and shifted in her seat as I slid in next to her. I picked up my burger and eyeballed the file that she'd sat on the table.

I closed my eyes as I bit down, momentarily forgetting the reason why all of us were there.

"Uh, listen. I'm sorry about the other day… You know, calling your girl Lily. I didn't mean anything by it."

I opened my eyes wide and turned to look at Chandra as if she had been possessed. What's with this shy shit? And shouldn't she be apologizing to me? Hell, I'm the injured party here.

Riley had finished the food in her mouth and smiled at her gently. I had noticed that about Riley, she tended to forgive rather easily. Unlike me, who could hold a grudge to the grave.

"It's okay. I guess I might have been a little too…" Riley shrugged and looked embarrassed.

To my great horror Chandra giggled again. She fucking opened that smart assed mouth of hers and giggled. I narrowed my eyes at both of them and growled. "What's in the file?"

"Oh." Chandra jumped a little because she had been staring at Riley who had gone back to eating her burger. "Here it is."

I wiped my hands on my napkin and opened the file. The dark photocopy of a mug shot confirmed that the picture on the mantel had indeed been that of Nathan Stein. He had been arrested four years before for child abuse and had been released because the girl in question had later recanted her statement. Just as Chandra had said, Smitty was listed as the arresting officer. Smitty had signed the document but whoever had been his partner hadn't. That was more procedure than anything but it was something I was usually pretty careful about. I also knew for a fact that, aside from the pictures in my hand and the one I had glanced at on the fireplace mantel, I had never seen Nathan Stein before in my life. I ignored the caramel-colored hand that snuck into my line of vision and snagged one of my criss-cuts. The signature on the file could have been a forgery but it looked like my partner's handwriting.

"Anything on Stein's disappearance?"

Chandra reached for another fry and had the audacity to dip it into my Ranch twice before biting into it. "It's in there, too," she said around the food in her mouth. I looked over at Riley who was busy eating her burger and seemed unconcerned about Chandra stealing food from my mouth. Some protector she is.

I decided to follow up on something else that had been bothering me. "Hey, Chandra, there were a bunch of files that I talked to Marcus about. I think there were five or six. Smitty had taken them out and there were a few pages missing. Looked like someone had torn some stuff out. Can you get me those files too?"

Chandra snagged another fry and frowned. "Yeah, that should be pretty easy. I can run a check on the last few files that Smitty pulled and it should be one of those."

"Yeah, that should work." I looked over at her then. Is she sick? She hadn't said one smart assed thing to me the whole time we'd been sitting there. She suddenly pulled out a phone similar to Riley's and looked at the display.

"Shit, I got to get going. Do you and Riley need anything else?

Do Riley and I need…? I looked over at Riley who was shaking her head and smiling pleasantly. What the hell is this do Riley and I need anything else, shit? Since when has she been so polite?

"Okay, ya'll give me a holler tomorrow and I should have that for you."

I slid out of the booth and Chandra said goodbye before escaping with another one of my fries. I slid back in the booth and picked up my burger.

Riley pointed with her pinky at the documents. "See anything interesting?"

"Mmm," I said around my food. "Yeah, Chandra has a little crush on you." I expected Riley to deny it but she didn't. She just grinned and shrugged.

"No, I mean in the files."

I harrumphed and told myself that I wasn't jealous and looked over at the file. "It's about like Caroline Stein said as far as the child abuse charges are concerned. Stein was apparently the pastor of some religious group called the North Star Family. The kid was supposed to do some chore or something and decided to play instead. Stein spanked her and afterward she went to the police. According to her, some of the women and children in the group were forced to perform sexual acts with the male members of the group. The kid later recanted and since it was all based on the kid's word and no other evidence was ever found, the case was dropped."

I rifled through the other papers Chandra had supplied and picked up my burger again. "The missing persons report is pretty black and white too. Stein never came home from work June 3rd of this year. Caroline Stein reported him missing a few days later and that's about all. They haven't found any other evidence to suggest foul play." I flipped the top page out of curiosity more than anything else and stared in disbelief at the two detectives assigned to the case. "Son of a bitch," I said, my mouth hanging open. "Alvin Wilson and Daniel McClowski, again."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Look."

"You think it's a coincidence?" Riley asked.

I shrugged. "The thing we need to figure out is where in the hell Marcus got those names." I frowned, my mind already racing.

"What are you thinking?" Riley asked as she wiped her mouth with her napkin.

"I'm thinking McClowski and Wilson are popping up a little too often for my taste. I'm thinking if we find those other three names, we may find that those two detectives are involved, too." I looked down at my tray and couldn't keep the snarl from spreading across my face. "And I'm thinking I'm going to have to kick Chandra's ass for eating all of my fries."

I had an idea but Riley wasn't going to like it.

I didn't think she had slept very well the night before because she was up earlier than usual. When she came out of the shower towel drying her hair I already had breakfast…well, cold cereal and toast…on the table. She sat down looking pleased but I think she spotted my charade almost instantly.

"What's all this?"

"What?" I stuffed cereal in my mouth hoping that she wouldn't expect me to speak immediately.

"The breakfast."

I shrugged. "You always cook. I thought it would be nice if I did this time."

"Oh." She picked up a piece of burnt toast and bit carefully into it.

"What's on your mind, Foster?" she asked, her blue eyes narrowing from either the pungent taste of the blackened toast or at my attempt to look innocent.

I nodded, wiped my mouth, and sat my napkin down on the table. "I think I know a way that we might be able to find out what's going on?"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, there is sort of a common denominator with some of this stuff."

"You mean Smitty?"

I looked up at her and frowned. "Yeah, I guess Smitty too, but he isn't around for us to ask and I'm sure as hell not in any position to walk up to the daughter of the Chief of Police and ask her if she knows what's going on."

"What then?"

"Wilson and McClowski."

She stopped chewing. "What are you planning to do?"

"I don't know. I thought we could follow them…see what they're up to?"

"Is that wise?"

"No," I said honestly, "but do we have much choice?"

"I don't know. But it seems to me there is something else we can do besides following the two cops that tried to drag you in."

"They won't know we're following them, Riley."

"I think you should think of something else."

"But, baby…"

"Foster…."

I paused, toast in mid air, eyes wide. I had heard that same tone of voice when I had accused her of taking money from Dani. Riley's momentarily frigid blue eyes melted as she lowered her voice. "Think of something else." She got up from the table, walked into her weight room and shut the door.

I heard her breathing increase as she did sit-ups or whatever she did in there without the benefit of her weights. Who was she to tell me what to do? It's my life and she isn't the one that is risking jail time by being here. The minute I thought it I could have kicked myself in the ass. She was risking jail time. Hell, Chandra was risking her job, even Sherm was going out of his way. Chandra and Sherm were doing it for Marcus but Riley was there for me. Nobody else, just me.

I stood up, walked to the door, and knocked on it lightly. When I received no answer, I turned the knob and walked into the empty room. Riley was sitting in a corner looking so lost that it broke my heart. "I don't like to fight with you," she said.

"I don't like to fight with you either." I sat down next to her and put my hand over hers.

"I had a nightmare last night." I had to lean closer to decipher what she was saying.

"You did?" She hadn't told me that but I remembered waking up during the night and hearing her in the other room exercising. It had been in my head to get up and make sure she was okay, but I had fallen back to sleep. "What was it about?"

"It was about…you were hurt, shot."

My mouth sagged open in shock. "Oh, baby…" I didn't know what to say, how to comfort her. For the first time I realized that there was something to be said for not remembering your nightmares. Riley looked tormented.

"Foster, I think we should go home."

I knew she meant back to the Bay Area, back to the cabin. Even though it wasn't really our home, I think we both thought of it that way because it was the first place that we gave in to our feelings for each other.

"Please, I want to spend time with you."

"Riley, I can't. I…I need to see this through. At least as far as I can."

She nodded as if she expected as much and I sat waiting for her to say something else to try to convince me that we should leave. Her fear was starting to rub off on me. What if something happened to her? I could never forgive myself.

"Riley, I want you to go back and wait for me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"No! I am not leaving you."

I bit the inside of my cheek hard to keep from grabbing her and hugging her. "Just give me a few more days, okay? If we can't figure this out by next Monday, we'll go home."

"You promise, Foster?"

"I promise, baby. I won't let this tear you up. I want to spend time with you too. I feel like I owe this to Marcus, but not at your expense." I pulled her close and looked around the empty room, my mind spinning. I had promised her that we would leave in less than a week if we didn't find anything. That did not leave me much time. I'm sorry, Marcus, but I just found her; I'd like to keep her for a while.

"Okay," I said, clearing my throat. "Are you going to help me?"

"Yeah, I'll help. What's next?"

"I was thinking about going to talk to the Stein's neighbors before we deal with Wilson and McClowski. See if they can shed some light on the subject."

"You think they'll be home this early?"

"No idea, but it won't hurt to check."

She nodded and we both dressed quietly. Riley's dream weighed heavily on me. I didn't want to give up, but at the same time I wanted to make Riley happy and I could tell that this was starting to get to her. She was afraid that I would be careless. In the past I had been, but that was in the past. Now I felt like I had too much to lose. Hell, maybe I should let the LAPD handle it and just take Riley home. Even as I thought it, I knew it wasn't going to be easy to let go. I had told Riley that we would leave on Monday. In the meantime, I had to try.

We walked up to the first house on Stein's street, a classy Victorian with a gaudy cherub fountain in the front. Riley looked so nervous that I was racking my brain for something that would put her at ease.

"Can I help you girls with something?"

I winced. I had been called a girl twice in as many days and I was starting to realize that I didn't much care for it. I turned around and faced a surprisingly petite, elderly woman.

"Uh, yes, ma'am. I'm a police officer with the LAPD and this is my partner. We wanted to talk to you about your neighbors, the Steins." I smoothly excluded our names from the introductions.

"My name is Zelda. Humph, I don't know what I can tell you except that I ought to file a report on them for thievery."

"Thievery? They stole something from you, ma'am?" The old woman turned around and gestured wildly with a pair of dangerous looking pruning shears. I put my arm in front of Riley much like I did in the car when we came to a hard stop. This time she didn't give me that exasperated look like she usually did. We both were eyeing the old woman warily.

"Damn right they stole something from me." She gestured that Riley and I should follow her. "When they first moved in there I took them over some cookies, a sort of welcome to the neighborhood. And do you know that that woman took my platter, thanked me and shut the door in my face? Didn't even have the manners to invite me in. Never saw that platter again and it was a family heirloom." We followed her through a gate and around a pool that was equal to the Stein's in size.

Riley and I came to an abrupt halt just as Zelda whipped around and looked hard at us. She pulled off her gardening gloves and stared at Riley. "You look like you could use a drink, dear."

"Yes, ma'am," Riley said quite sweetly.

"Oh my, aren't you the cute one." Zelda paused and smiled at Riley. "And so polite, too. That's what I like to hear from you young folks. You wait right there, I'm going to get you a nice glass of iced tea. Would you like some too, dear?"

"Uh, yes ma'am?" I said just as sweetly, but all I got was a nod while Riley got another grin as the woman walked into the house.

I narrowed my eyes when Riley looked down at me. "She's probably into bondage and sadomasochism and all kinds of freaky shit. I'm sure she's going to offer to buy you." I nodded my head up and down because Riley was shaking hers. A smile started to spread across her face as I went on. "She's probably going to come out that sliding glass door holding a whip and wearing black lipstick, a rubber unitard, spiked heels, and a dildo the size of one of your biceps." I leaned in close and intoned, "And it's all going to be for you…the cute one."

Riley's body started to shake as she shook her head and stuck her tongue out at me.

"Uh huh. Just for that you just went on sale, baby. Fifty percent off, no coupon required," I threatened in order to hide the fact that I was having a hard time catching my breath. Zelda was right; she was indeed cute with that mischievous little smile of hers. Hell, I might have to borrow that rubber unitard my damn self.

I clicked on the miniscule tape recorder just as Zelda returned with our drinks. She sat down heavily and frowned. "Now what was I saying, dear? Oh yes…those two are a strange couple. I don't know much about them; they act like they don't want to speak half the time. And this mess about him missing, I don't know what that's all about but you can bet it is some scheme that he cooked up."

"Oh? Why do you say that, ma'am?"

"Something about the eyes. You know he has those shifty eyes that people have when they're about no good. Mr. Dooley, the nice gentleman that lives next door to them, said that he thinks they killed his tree."

"Why would Mr. Stein do that?" I made sure to look suitably outraged.

"He said that the tree was blocking his view. Mr. Dooley said that the tree was older than he was and that it stayed as long as he lived. Mr. Stein said that he could arrange for him to go sooner than he thought, and he would too, if he didn't get rid of that damn tree."

"He did not threaten that nice Mr. Dooley?" Okay I'll admit that I was pouring it on a bit thick here, but she was still talking and I wanted to keep it that way.

"No, I'm telling you the truth. About a month later someone drove a copper nail into that old tree and killed it. Mr. Stein called the city and they made Mr. Dooley cut it down." Zelda smacked her lips in disgust. "It was a shame, too. It was a beautiful old tree. Mr. Dooley's grandkids used to love to play in it. You can bet if those two had children they wouldn't have been so callous."

"Don't they have a son?"

"Of course not, dear," Zelda said as if I had asked a stupid question. "Although I vaguely remember someone saying that they had lost a baby to crib death or something. I never believed it though. Mr. Stein is barely ever there and that woman doesn't strike me as the motherly type. Lord knows why men like them so young because they don't know the first thing about raising a family. Of course us women like them young too when we can track them down." She winked at me and I opened my mouth to deny that I wanted any part of that statement. . "Whew," she fanned herself and her eyes got glassy. "You should see that pool boy of hers, Terry."

"Terry is the pool boy?"

"Yes, well, that's what she calls him."

"So you don't believe that Mr. Stein is really missing then?"

"Baaahh," she waved me off. "Of course not. That man was a mean one. Either he is faking it or someone has already done away with him. It wouldn't surprise me either way."

"Well, thank you for your time, Zelda. I appreciate it." Riley and I stood up to leave and then I acted like I had another thought. "Zelda, do you know where Mr. and Mrs. Stein lived before they moved here?"

"They said they were from New York but neither of them look or sound like they are. If you ask me, they probably lived right here in California and won some money or something. They strike me as that nouveau riche type." She pronounced rich as if it were reach.

"Well, thank you for your time, ma'am."

Riley and I were walking toward the gate when Zelda yelled out, "Talk to Mr. Dooley. He can probably tell you more than I can. He should be home right now. I can call him and tell him you're coming if you want?"

"That would be great, Zelda. Thank you," I called out.

Mr. Dooley proved to be even older than Zelda and just as spry. I was starting to think the rich really did live better. He had welcomed Riley and I with as much hospitality as Zelda had. It sort of made me sad because I don't think either of them got many visitors. It also made me think of Mrs. Krychowski.

Mr. Dooley, like Zelda, had sat Riley and I on patio furniture around his pool. Their furniture was almost identical and if I didn't know better I would say that he and Zelda might have gone shopping together. For some reason it made me feel better that they had each other.

I bumped into Riley with my shoulder to get her attention. When she looked at me, her eyes were already twinkling as if she knew I was going to make some off the wall crack. I had to oblige her of course. "If one more person gives me a glass of ice tea, I'm going to start pissing like a racehorse all over this nice furniture."

Her body trembled and she shook her head as if to say, 'what am I going to do with you?' I narrowed my eyes, mentally telling her just what I thought she should do with me. The slight flush and inhale told me she got the picture.

I stuck my hand in my pocket and clicked on the tape recorder a few seconds before Mr. Dooley returned with the iced tea, and took a few polite sips before I started my questioning. "Mr. Dooley, what can you tell us about your neighbors, the Stein's?"

"I could tell you a lot probably. I don't know what you want to hear because they aren't worth the lot that house stands on." Mr. Dooley pushed back a long lock of gray hair, his wrinkled hands moving in that sure way one has when something has become habit and no longer requires much thought.

"Why do you say that?" I could have literally slapped myself silly as I watched Mr. Dooley take a deep breath to begin his story.

"Well, I'll tell you why." He launched into the story about the tree and I gave him my condolences.

"Anything else odd you've seen over there?"

"Well, there was that big black fellow that came over sometimes late at night. He and Stein would leave and not come back for a few days. I can't sleep you see and I would see them driving away in a big white van, like for a store."

"Did the van say anything?"

"Hmm yeah, I'm sure it did but I don't know if I paid much attention."

"But you're sure it was a commercial van?"

"Positive."

"And the driver of the van? Think you would recognize him if you saw him again?"

"Maybe. My binoc-…well. my eye sight isn't as good as it used to be."

I nodded. Just as I suspected, Mr. Dooley was a watcher. One of those people that feel it's their civic duty to watch what's happening on their block. There were a few of them that lived in my apartment complex. It never bothered me, I always felt safer that way. Besides, it's not like I actually had a life back then.

I pulled out a blank card that had been inside the case with the badge and Colorado police credentials and wrote Riley's cell number down. "If you should see or remember anything else would you give my partner or I a call?"

"Of course, Officer. Anything I can do to help."

We had to wait nearly two hours for McClowski and Wilson. I had instructed Riley to park across from the station, but it still left me feeling slightly uncomfortable. I climbed into the back of the Blazer because those windows were tinted, pulled the cap down low on my head, and donned the cheap sunglasses.

"I guess the Captain isn't on their ass like she was on mine or they would be out doing some work instead of sitting at their desks pushing papers." Just as the words left my mouth the two detectives in question left the building and walked toward their car.

"Okay, here we go," I told Riley calmly. "Follow, but make sure that you leave a few cars between us and them."

I was surprised when McClowski and Wilson pulled to a stop near a brand new doughnut shop near 9th.

"Damn it, you lazy fucks. Don't tell me you're stopping for a snack." I watched angrily as the two men emerged from their car, talked briefly, and walked off in opposite directions. McClowski handed a flyer to a kid on roller blades who promptly crumbled it up and tossed it in the trashcan after the detective turned the corner. I waited five seconds, "I'm going to go get that." I said over my shoulder. I was already half way out of the car when Riley grabbed the back of my shirt and pulled me back.

"You promised no unnecessary risks, remember?"

"Yeah, I forgot," I said sheepishly.

"Let me get it then." Riley jumped out of the car and scooped up the ball of paper. She handed it to me and closed the door behind her. I stared down at the familiar mug shot picture.

"What the hell?" I said.

"Find something?" she asked.

I handed her the picture and looked in the direction that McClowski had gone.

"You know this Pete "Pistol" Armstrong?"

"Yeah, I know him as Pistol Pete. He's a homeless guy that sometimes hangs out around here."

"You know why they might be looking for him?"

"No. No idea. He's helped Smitty and me on a few occasions so that could be it. He's harmless other than the flashing thing. These idiots didn't do their homework though. Pete wouldn't be down here for a few hours yet. He only hangs out over here for the food and to flash the rich bitches that come out of Mavericks. It doesn't open until 6:00 on weeknights." I frowned then because something else had just occurred to me.

"What are you thinking?"

"Pete was responsible for handing over those snuff tapes that led us to Canniff's store."

"You think this is related to that?"

I thought about it for a minute. "I don't see how it could be but we need to check it out.

I know one thing for sure though. We'd better find Pete before they do."

Between talking to two witnesses and tailing McClowski and Wilson, I think Riley had had all the excitement she could stand. She only put up a lukewarm protest when I asked her to stay in the car this time. I walked up to the check in counter at Pete's Motel 6. The same clerk that had given Smitty and me the key to Pete's room was on duty. I gave a silent cheer. I felt sure that I would be able to get Pete's room number without hassle. That is if I could tear the guy away from his video game for a few minutes. The little chimes and bells were already starting to get on my nerves.

"Hi, I'm with the LAPD. I was wondering if you still have a Pete Armstrong staying here." As with the first time I had come here with Smitty, the pock-faced clerk didn't bother to look up from his video game. In fact, I thought he wasn't going to answer me at all.

"Twenty bucks," he said, still not looking up.

"Twenty bucks?" I repeated.

"Yeah, twenty bucks. I know you guys got that informant fund or whatever that shit is called. I want twenty bucks for my information."

I glared at him. The fact that he didn't look up was extremely unsatisfying. I reached into my pocket, pulled out a twenty, balled it up, and tossed it at him. It struck him in the chest and settled between his small potbelly and the handheld video game. He picked up the twenty and put it in his shirt pocket. "I wish I would have thought of that earlier," he said with a small grin to himself. "Pete checked out weeks ago."

"Are you sure about that? Maybe you should check the ledger."

"Positive." He groaned and gave the game a shake. "Just like I told those other cops. He ain't here."

"Damn. Did the other cops say what they wanted with him?"

"Which ones?"

"How many cops have been here?" I was about two seconds from grabbing that damn game and launching it across the room.

"A few. First there was a guy by himself, then a guy and a woman, and then two guys just the other day. But like I said, Pete was already gone before the first cop came by."

"Wait a minute. What first cop?" Smitty and I should have been the first to come looking for Pete's tapes. I waited for the clerk to say something but he had already tuned me out. I leaned over the counter. "Hey!" I slammed my hand down hard on the counter to get his attention. He looked up and I glared at him. He did not look at all intimidated. In fact, he took one look at me and dismissed me as no threat. Big mistake.

"Look, I already told you, I haven't seen Pete in weeks. As you can see, I'm pretty busy here. So unless you have a warrant…."

I could just feel that he thought I was no longer worthy of his time. I hated people whose answer to everything was 'get a warrant'. They didn't know what the hell they where talking about. Next thing he would be saying was…

"You know, my tax payer dollars pay your salary," he said smugly. "So, why don't you go out there and fight crime or something instead of coming in here and hassling me."

Something pounded in my temple. The little self-satisfied smirk slowly disappeared from the clerk's face and he forgot I was still standing there. I squatted down. You know what? I'm not a fucking cop anymore and I'm trying to do the right thing here. And pretty much all I want to do is get back to the cabin with Riley and start apologizing in every position I know of. And this jackass is standing in the way of that.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing down there?" I heard the clerk get up from his chair. I grinned evilly. This was going to be fun.

I heard his hands slap the countertop and I was up with the .38 in my hand. "You know, I'm thinking we're having a bit," I grabbed his tie-dyed t-shirt and pulled him close so that I could comfortably put the barrel of my gun up his right nostril, "of a misunderstanding." I nodded and just as I expected, he nodded with me as if we were indeed just having a discussion. "You seem to have mistaken me for someone who has the patience, or the desire, to spend time talking to you. As someone who obviously has the patience to sit around and pop pimples all day, you probably don't understand my lack of that particular virtue. Soooo, let me explain it to you in terms that you will understand. I mean…it's the least I can do since the tax dollars from your Motel 6 job happen to pay my entire salary. Are you listening?" He nodded. "Either you stop fucking with me or this office is going to look like a larger version of your bathroom mirror. Only your face is my pimple. Understand?" He nodded vigorously and I smiled. "Now I'm going to ask you the questions nicely," I loosened my grip on his shirt. "And you're going to answer them nicely." I trailed the gun down until it rested on his lower lip. "What…first…cop?"

"There was this guy. He…he said he was a cop and a friend of Pete's and he needed to get into Pete's room."

"When did this happen? Do you remember?"

"No, I, uh, wait. I know how I can find out."

"Uh huh. Don't make me come across the counter." I let his shirt go and he went straight to his desk and started riffling through it. I took the opportunity to check to make sure Riley couldn't see me through a window. Reassured, I turned my attention back to the clerk. Finally he pulled out a magazine and opened it.

"Yeah, here it is. It was April sixteenth, because I closed up the office to get this over at the mall. He handed me the magazine. It was opened to a large add proclaiming that Final Fantasy 9 would be at a store near me April sixteenth "I told the guy to slip the key under the door when he was done. It was here when I got back."

I shook my head. If this guy was telling the truth, then someone had been in Pete's room before Smitty and I had gotten there.

"Did you get his name?"

"No, I didn't." The clerk shrugged, seeming not to care that he had given out Pete's key without getting proper identification. If I ever got so bad off that I had to stay at one of those motels, I would make sure that I put a chair up to the door.

"Do you remember what he looked like?"

"What? Looked like? I don't know he was kind of big. He was a black guy. Clean cut. That's all I know."

I nodded and held out my hand. He stared at me for a minute, then I raised my eyebrow and he reached in his pocket and slapped my balled up twenty into the palm of my hand.

"Thank you," I said politely.

He hesitated. "You're welcome."

I put the little .38 back in its holster and walked out of the office without another word.

I got in the car and smiled at Riley.

"How did it go?"

"Like I said, pretty uneventful. You were right to stay in the car." I patted Riley's leg and pulled out of the parking lot feeling somewhat invigorated.

As I drove, I filled Riley in on what the clerk had told me.

"Someone was in that room before Smitty and I got there," I said grimly.

"You think it was someone working for that video store guy?"

"I don't know, but I'm thinking if it was someone working for Canniff they would have taken all the tapes. We would have never gotten the warrant or caught Canniff in the act."

"Maybe you and Smitty got to the motel before he could take them."

I frowned then shook my head. "The clerk said the key was returned. I can't see someone leaving in a hurry and taking the time to give a plastic card key back."

"We try to find this Pete next?"

"Yup and I have a pretty good idea where he is. I just hope those other two don't know about this place." I told Riley that it made sense that with the weather so nice it was doubtful Pete would want to spend money on a motel when he could sleep outdoors for free. There was an old Montgomery Wards store that had closed down a year or so back. The city was still trying to determine what they were going to do with the building and its mammoth parking lot. In the interim, its covered parking structure made it the perfect spot for the homeless to crash.

Twenty minutes later Riley and I exited the car and ducked into the parking structure. Several large cardboard appliance boxes littered the ground and served as makeshift beds. The disgustingly familiar smell of stale beer, urine, and lost hopes hung heavy in the air.

"Watch your step, baby. There could be needles and shit on the ground," I said as we moved cautiously through this city of forgotten and unwanted individuals. The ground was covered with a hodgepodge of garbage that consisted of used condoms, needles, dirty tissues, and candy wrappers, with soiled clothing and food wrappers throughout.

"Why all the candy wrappers?" Riley asked.

"The junkies eat it when they're coming down off a high."

"Oh."

I spotted Pete's shaggy head peaking from beneath a dirty red plaid blanket that he probably picked up at a shelter. Such a blanket would be priceless for someone like Pete.

"Hey, Pete."

"Whaaat?" he said, turning over and starting to snore.

I looked at Riley who shrugged. Pete didn't look like he'd had a bath in weeks.

"Pete, I need to ask you some questions." Pete just groaned. Finally I yelled, "Goddamn it, Pete. Get your ass up!"

He sat up quickly. The look on his face would have been funny under normal circumstances. "Oh shit. You scared me, I thought you were my wife."

"You married, Pete?"

He rose to his feet, tottering forward at one point, only to regain his equilibrium like the true pro that he was. "Oh yeah, worst move I ever made…that and trusting my business partner."

"Business partner? What the hell you talking about, Pete?"

"Yup, I was an accountant. Owned my own business with my best friend Jerry. Only I didn't know Jerry was screwing my wife and me at the same time. They took ev…" He squinted at Riley and I. "Who are you anyway? I think I got my glasses around here. Hold on." He started high stepping through a pile of dirty clothing.

"Uh, Pete, listen. I need to ask you…" a loud crunching noise caused Riley and I to wince.

"Ah, there they are." He picked up his glasses and placed them on the bridge of his nose and squinted. One lens was totally missing and a crack went diagonally across the other. "Do I know you?" he asked.

"Uh, no. No, you don't, but I'm with the police." I flashed him my fake badge.

"Hey, now look. You can ask anyone, I been here all day," he started to bluster.

"I know, Pete, that's not why I'm here. Please lower your voice."

"Okay, you sure I don't know you? Your voice sounds familiar."

"Nah, I'm sure you don't. Listen, Pete, a friend of mine, Smitty, told me that you helped him out with this case he was working on. He said you were minding your own business and found some videos remember?"

"Videos? Videos? I don't remember no…oh, oh yeahhh." He frowned. "Those videos aren't for nice folk. You don't want to see nothing like that."

"You're right, I don't. But something happened to Smitty and he didn't get the chance to tell me about all of the stuff on the videos. Did you look at them?"

"Nah, I tried." Pete shook his head vigorously. "But in three of them they where doing bad things to kids and the other one was too small to fit in my tape player."

" There were four tapes?" I asked

"Yup, four. When I got home that night all of them were gone so I figured the cops took them." I nodded. His story was holding up. All except for one thing…

"Are you sure there were four? Not three?"

"No, there were four. I could only look at three of them, but there were definitely four."

"Pete, do you remember talking to Smitty about the videos?"

"Smitty? Smitty who?" Pete swayed drunkenly for a minute. "I don't know any Smitty. I told the cops that I don't want nothing. I don't know nothing. Just leave me alone. You sure are pretty. Hey, you want me to show you…" he started to fumble drunkenly with his pants and I realized that our interview was officially over.

"Uh, no, Pete, that's okay. We don't want to see it." I held up my hand and Riley took a step backward.

"No?" he looked sadly at both Riley and I. "Neither did my wife."

I gave Pete two twenty-dollar bills and told him that he was to lay low because there were some people looking for him. How much of that he understood, I don't know. Riley and I walked back to the car.

"So, what did all that mean?"

I frowned and ran my hand through my hair. I'm not trying to be cryptic, but things were not meshing like they usually did which told me I was missing something, something very important. "Right before all this went down, Smitty and I had been assigned a dead file dealing with these snuff videos that started popping up on the street about five years ago."

Riley frowned and I grimaced and tried to explain it to her. "A snuff film is usually a video of a sexual and or graphic nature. Sex, death and dismemberment tend to be acts one, two, and three."

"You mean like that alien autopsy thing, only with sex?"

"Well, sort of, only these are a bit different. The people are usually still alive when the carnage begins and…unlike that alien video, our top people couldn't swear that these particular tapes were fakes. Also, there is the whole sexual aspect of it. Don't get me wrong; this type of stuff has been around for a long time. We'd get parents running in with these videos that their kids bought off a friend of a friend. It was usually no more serious than a film student with a weird sexual appetite. Anyway, I'm not sure what, if anything, this has to do with Marcus, but Pete found some tapes that he probably thought were just porn. Smitty and I watched one of them for a few seconds." I shuddered. "It was so awful…there was a kid in it. I've never seen anything like it and I hope I never do again. Anyway, it led us to the guy who was making and selling the films."

"That's the guy…"

"Yeah, Harrison Canniff. But there were only three tapes, not four."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm positive."

"Well maybe Pete didn't remember it right."

"Yeah, maybe." The hairs on my arms stood up.

"You believe him, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do. Pete said he was an accountant. Accountants are usually good with numbers. And even a drunk would know the difference between three and four."

"But who took it? Why just take the one tape?"

"A better question is why did they leave the other three. There is enough on those three tapes to put someone in jail for a long time."

"So you think whoever took the smaller tape was specifically looking for it?"

"Yeah that's exactly what I'm thinking. I'm also thinking that whatever is on that smaller tape has to be pretty bad."

"What could be worse than child pornography?"

"That's a good question, baby." I rubbed the back of my neck and closed my eyes. "A very good question."

(C) 2001 Gabrielle Goldsby

To be concluded in Part 7...