Kovacliska - Dust To Dust Part 3

"Then you should get a lot of fresh air. To clean the crud out of your lungs."

She stepped in close and gave him a meaningful look. He followed when she turned for the door.

"Fallon's over," he said, pulling on his topcoat as they left the office.

Liska looked at him the same way he'd looked at Leonard, only more so.

"The autopsy's a done deal." "What?".

"Everyone expects a suicide ruling. Only they'll call it accidental, just to go easy on Mike. We'll have a preliminary report today and a benediction from Leonard. No one upstairs wants Mike or the department-to be further embarra.s.sed by the sordid details."

"Yeah, I bet not," Liska said, suddenly looking pale.

She didn't speak again until they were outside. Kovac didn't ask for an explanation. They'd been together long enough that he could read her easily. A partnership on the job was an intimacy-not in the s.e.xual sense, but psychologically, emotionally. The more in tune with each other, the better they could work a case. His partnership with 76 T A M.

0 A G.

Liska was as good as any he'd had. They understood each other, respected each other.

He walked beside her through a maze of halls and out a little-used orth side

of the b i ding.The sun was out, bri ant and door on the n I U11 illi blinding on the snow. The sky was the pale blue of a robin's egg. Adeceptively pretty day with a windchill factor in the teens. There was no oneelse on this set of steps, which caught no sunlight and all the wind. Peopleflocked instead to the south side like arctic birds searching for warmth.Kovac winced as the cold slapped him in the face. He jammed his hands down inhis coat pockets and turned a hunched shoulder to the wind."Leonard told you Fallon was over," Liska said. "Wrap it up and close it.""Who made that autopsy happen so fast?" "Someone higher on the food chain."Liska looked up the street, the muscles in her jaw tensing. The wind flutteredthrough her short hair and brought moisture to her eyes. He could sense hewasn't going to like what she was working up to tell him."So what bug's up your a.s.s?" he asked irritably. "It's colder than my secondwife's mother out here." "I just had a call from someone who claims to have known what Andy Fallon wasworking on.""Does this someone have a name?" "Not yet. But I saw him yesterday in the IA offices. Another dissatisfiedcustomer." The fist in Kovac's belly pressed knuckles-down and started to grind. "Andwhat does he claim Fallon was working?"She looked up at him. "A murder."Murder?" Kovac said with disbelief. "Since when does IA touch a murder? No way. A felony always goes to the division, on account of IA can't find theirown a.s.ses in a dark room. How could Fallon be working a murder and us not knowabout it? That's bulls.h.i.t." "He could have if we thought it was closed," Liska said. "Remember EricCurtis?" "Curtis? The off-duty patrol cop? The mutt that did him is sitting inj*aiLWhatwas his name?Vermin?" "Verma. RenaldoVerma." D U S T T 0 D U S T 77 "A string of robbery-a.s.saults. Gay victims. He did-what? Three or our in eighteen months."

f "Four.Two of the vics died. Curtis was last."

"Same MO as the others, right? Bound, beaten, robbed." Yes, but Eric Curtis was a cop," Liska pointed out.

: "Sor "So he was a cop and he was gay. According to my mystery man, months before his death, Curtis had complained to IA about hara.s.sment on the job because of his s.e.xual preference."

"And you're saying maybe a cop killed him because of it?" Kovac said. "Jesus, Tinks.You want to believe that, maybe you ought to apply for Fallon's job-"

"f.u.c.k you, Kojak," she snapped. "I hate IA. I hate what they do to people. I hate them like you can't know. But Eric Curtis was a cop, and he was gay, and now he's dead. Andy Fallon was looking into it, he was gay, and now lie's dead," she said, not liking the sound of it herself by tle kowl on her face.

And still, she stood up to him, toe to toe, and pressed her point. That was Liska: no job too mean or too ugly. She stepped up to the plate and swung at whatever she had to.

And I just got told the book is all but closed on Fallon," Kovac said, looking out at the street.

"You don't like it either, Sam," Liska said quietly. "You can feel it in your gut, can't you?"

He didn't answer her right away. He let it all roll through his head like a movie while the carillon in the city hall clock tower began to mark the houtwith "White Christmas."

"No," he said at last. "I don't like anything about this."They were both silent for a moment. Cars rolled by on Fourth Street.The wind howled down the tunnels created by the buildings, snapping theflags on the federal building across the street."Andy Fallon probably killed himself," Liska said. "There wasn't anything atthe scene to say he didn't.This guy thatiust called me. Who's to say he givesa s.h.i.t about Andy Fallon? Maybe the Curtis murder is Just his ax to grind andhe thinks we'll get into it through the back door.... But what if it's not,Sam? We're all Andy Fallon has. And Mike.You taught me that-who do we workfor?" "The victim," he murmured, that bad feeling still heavy in the bottom of hisstomach. They worked for the victim. He'd grounded that into countless0 A G trainees. The victims couldn't speak for themselves. It was up to thedetective to ask all pertinent questions, to dig and prod, and turn over rocksuntil he found the truth. Sometimes it was easy. And sometimes it wasn't."What's it gonna hurt to ask a few more questions?" he said, knowing itsounded too much like something for the Famous Final Words file."I'll take the morgue." Liska hugged her coat around her as she turned backfor the door. "You take IA." I 'V E A L R E A D Y S P 0 K E N with your partner, Sergeant," LieutenantSavard said, barely glancing up at him as she sorted through a pile of reportson her desk. "And, in case you haven't been informed, Andy Fallon's death isbeing ruled an accident.""In record time," Kovac said.The IA lieutenant gave him her undivided attention at that. The green of hereyes was almost startling. Clear and cold, staring out from beneath browsseveral shades darker than the ash blond of her hair.The contrast intensified the sharp seriousness of her expression. He had to think she scared the s.h.i.tout of a lot of cops with that look.He'd been around too long to feel fear. He was numb to it. Or maybe he wasiuststupid.He sat in the chair across the desk from her, ankles crossed. He'd done abrief stint in IA himself a hundred years ago, back when the department hadbeen run by a real cop, not some bra.s.s-polisher looking to shine his way upthe chain of command. He hadn't been ashamed to work the* ob. He had no love for bad cops. But he hadn't liked it either.In those days there hadn't been any lieutenants on the force who looked likethis one. "d.a.m.n decent of them to do the slicing and dicing so quick, don't you think?"he said. "Seeing how backed up they are at the morgue this time of year.They've got bodies stacked up Eke Yule logs, for Christ's sake.""Professional courtesy," Savard said curtly.Kovac caught himself watching her lips. They were the perfect shape of anarcher's bow, with a sheer coat of lipstick.U S T T 0 "Yeah, well:' he said, "I feel like I kinda. owe old Mike the same courtesy,you know? Do you know him? Mike Fallon?"The eyes went back to the papers. "I know of him. I spoke with him on thephone today and gave him my condolences.""Yeah, you're too young.You wouldn't have been around in the days of IronMike.You must be--what? Thirty-seven, thirty-eight?" She looked at him as ifshe had a mouthful of bitters. "That would be none of your business, Sergeant. And just a word of advice. If you're goingto try to guess a woman's age, err on the side of youth."Kovac winced. "Was I that far off" "No.You were that close. I'm vain. Now, if you don't mind..." She lifted some of the papers and rattled them. The subtle reminder to leave."I just have a couple of questions.""You don't need questions or answers to them.You have no case to investigate.""But I have Mike," he renu'nded her. "I'm just trying to piece some thingstogether for him. It's a tough thing for a parent to lose a child. If it helpsfor me to fill him in on Andy's last days, then I'll do that. That doesn'tseem too much to ask, do you think?""It is if you want confidential information from an Internal Affairsinvestigation:' Savard said, pushing her chair back from the desk.She had tried the cool dismissal. Now she would try to herd him out. Kovacstayed seated for a moment, just to irk her, just to let her know he wouldn'tgive up that easily. She came around the desk to show him the door. He waiteduntil she was near his chair, then he stood, making her hesitate. She took ahalf step back, frowning, retreating and not liking it."I know about the Curtis thing," Kovac bluffed."Then you know you don't need to speak with me after an, don't YOU?"A wry smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "You didn't ride in here on theequal rights bandwagon, did you, Lieutenant?""Believe me, I'm more than qualified for my job, Sergeant Kovac." There wa.s.something like amus.e.m.e.nt in her voice, but it was darker. Irony, maybe. Hecouldn't begin to imagine why, or where it came from, or why she would allowhim to hear it. It wasn't important to him now, but he filed the curiosity inhis brain,just in case he might need it later.He crossed his arms and sat back against the edge of her desk as she made amove toward the door. Irritation flashed in the green eyes. Temper brought atint of color to her cheeks. This, he thought, was what television wanted ladylieutenants to look like: cla.s.sy, sleek, stylish in a steel-gray pantsuit.Cool, controlled, s.e.xy in an understated way.Too cla.s.syfor you, Kovac, he thought. A lieutenant. Jesus.Why was he evenlooking?"Did you know Andy Fallon was gay?" he asked. "His personal life was none ofmy business.,, "That's not what I asked.""Yes, he told me he was gay.""Before you went to his house Sunday Might?""You, re pressing your luck here, Sergeant," Savard said. "I've already toldyou, I'm not going to answer your questions. Do you really want me to speak toyour lieutenant about this?""You can call him, but he's busy practicing hisit-was-a-tragicaccident-now-drop-it speech.""He should be practicing it on you.""I've already given him my critique-there's no beat and you can't dance to it.He should keep his day job as a petty bureaucrat and forget about politics.""I'm sure your opinion means a great deal to him.""Yeah. Exactly nothing," he said. "Yours will mean more, if you decide to gothat way. He'll ask me in his office and tell me to do my job the way he saysor get suspended. Thirty days without pay.And all because I'm trying to dosomething decent for another cop. Life sucks, some days harder than others.But what am I supposed to do? Hang myselP"Savard's face darkened. "That wasn't funny, Sergeant."'"It wasn't meant to be. I'm sure you know it was meant to make you see AndyFallon in your head again. I can show you the Polaroids if you want." Hepulled one out of his inside breast pocket and held it up like a magiciandoing a card trick. "It's a h.e.l.l of a thing to see, isn't it?"

9 The blood drained out of the lieutenant's face. She looked as if she wanted to hit him with something. "Put it away.),KQvac flipped it over and looked at it with the dispa.s.sion of someone who hadseen hundreds of such photographs. "You knew him.D U S T T 0 D U S T You had a connection to him.You're sorry he's dead. Think how his old man feels."

"Put it away, 11 she said again.There was the barest hint of a tremor in her voice as she added, "Please."

He slipped the Polaroid back into his coat pocket. "Do you care enough to help lay a father's doubts to rest?"

"Does Mike Fallon have doubts about Andy's death being an accident?" she asked.

"Mike has doubts about who Andy was."

She moved away from him, silent for a moment, thinking, considering. "No one knows anyone. Not really. Most of us don't even know ourselves."

Kovac watched her, intrigued by the sudden turn to philosophy. She seemed reflective rather than defensive.

"I know exactly who I am, Lieutenant," he said. "And who are you, Sergeant Kovac?"

"I'm exactly what you're looking at," he answered, lifting his arms to the sides. "I'm a flatfoot, a straight-line cop in a cheap suit from JC Penney.

I'm a walking, talking stereotype. I eat bad food, drink too much, and smoke-though I'm trying to quit and think I should score character points for that. I don't run marathons or do tal chi or compose opera in my free time. If I have a question, I ask it. People don't always like that, but f.u.c.k 'em-pardon my language, another bad habit I won't be shed of Oh, yeah-and I'm stubborn as h.e.l.l." Savard arched a brow. "Let me guess. You're divorced?"

"Twice, but that won't stop me from trying again. Under the cheap suit beats the heart of a hopeless romantic."

"Is there any other kind?"

Kovac chose not to answer. The better part of valor.

"So, I want to do this for Mike," he said. "Ask around about his kid, try to put together a picture he can live with. Will you help me with that?"

Savard thought about that for a moment, digested it, dissected it, weighed the pros and cons.

"Andy Fallon was a good investigator," she said at last. "He always tried hard. Sometimes he tried too hard."

"What does that mean? Too hard?"

"Just that the job was everything to him. He worked too hard and took failures too much to heart."

0 A G.

"Had he had a failure lately? The Curtis case?"

"Officer Curtis's killer is sitting in jail awaiting sentencing!, "RenaldoVerma' "

"If you know that, then you should know there is no case ongoing in this department regarding Eric Curtis."

"I guess not, what with your investigator being dead and all." "The case was dead before Andy."

"Had Curtis complained about hara.s.sment?" Savard said nothing.

Kovac felt his patience slip. "Look, I can go to the gay and lesbian officers'

liaison. Curtis would have told them before he came to IA. But then I'll come back here, and I gotta think you've already seen enough of me to last you."

"Yes," she said, letting the answer hang a moment. "Officer Curtis had filed a complaint some time before his death. Because of that there was some IA interest when he was murdered. But the evidence pointed to no one but Verma, and the case ended with Verma's plea agreement."

"And the names of the officers in question?" "Will remain confidential."

"I can dig them up."

"You can dig all you want," Savard said. "But you won't do it here. The case is closed and I have no reason to reopen it.

"Why was Fallon so upset if the killer is sitting in jail?"

"I don't know. Andy had a lot on his nuind this last month or so. Only he could tell you what or why. He didn't confide in me. And I don't care to speculate. No one can know another person's heart. There are too many

barriers." "Sure you can." Kovac met her eyes with an even gaze that tried to see pasther barriers. Without luck, he acknowledged. Those walls were thick. A womandidn't get where she was by letting weaknesses show."You just have to be willing to chip away the bulls.h.i.t," he said. "Me, I'mknee-deep in it half the time. I don't even mind the smell anymore. " The lieutenant said nothing, though Kovac had the impression she had much tosay, that words were building up inside her like water behind a dam. He couldsense the tension in her. But in the end she stepped away from him.D U S T T 0 0 U S T 83 I "Take your pickax and chip elsewhere, Sergeant Kovac." She pulled the dooropen, offering him the view of the outer office. "I've told you as much as I'mgoing to tell you."Kovac took his time going to the door. When he was even with Amanda Savard, hestopped-just a hair inside her comfort zone. Close enough to catch the subtlehint of her perfume. Close enough to see the pulse beat beneath the delicateskin in the hollow at the base of her throat. Close enough to feel somethinglike electricity hum just under his skin."You know, somehow I don't think so, Lieutenant," he said softly. Thank youfor your time."84 T A M 0 A 6 Z H A P T E RENA LDO V E RM A WAS anoilyrat of aman.Shghtofbuild,he had the sinewy,boiled-down look of a longtime crack addict, which he was. It was difficult toimagine him overpowering anyone, let alone a police officer. Yet he had pledguilty to murder in the second degree for beating a man to death with abaseball bat. His record ran the gamut from sohcitm*g to drugs, from burglaryto robbery. a.s.sault and murder were recent additions to his repertoire, but hehad shown a flair for both. He had fallen into a pattern of robbery anda.s.sault that shared traits beyond MO. The mindlitinters liked to call it11 signature'" acts committed during the crime that were unnecessary to thecompletion of the crime but fulfilled some inner need. He might eventuallyhave graduated to serial killer had he been better at eluding capture.Verma came into the interrogation room with a swagger to his gait, as if hehad something to be c.o.c.ky about. He took his seat opposite Kovac andimmediately reached for the pack of Salems on the table. His hands were longand bony, like the paws of a rodent, the skin marked with lesions that werelikely a sign ofAIDS."I hadn't ought to be speaking to you without my lawyer," he said, and blewsmoke out his nostrils. His nose was thin and long, with a as pair of b.u.mps along the bridge. A pencil-thin mustache rode his long upper liplike a dirty shadow. He had an affected, somewhat efferminate way of speaking,and an elaborate body language. His whole upper body swayed and bent andtwisted as he spoke, as if he were listeming to ballroom dance music in hishead. "So call your lawyer," Kovac said, rising. "But I don't have time for thatbulls.h.i.t. By the time he gets here, I'll be long gone and you'll get stuckwith the bill." "Taxpayers get stuck with that bill," Verma said, snickering, his bonyshoulders collapsing together as his chest caved in. "What do I care?""Yeah, I can see you don't give a rat's a.s.s about anything," Kovac said. "Soyou'll only feed me what you think I want to hear because you're looking for atrade. Only it's too late for a trade.You made your bed with the countyattorney. It's in the pen in St. Cloud.""No, it ain't," Verma said with smug confidence, wagging a finger at Kovac."It's in Oak Park Heights. I ain't going to that slab of granite way the f.u.c.k north.That place is medieval. I'm going to the Heights. That's part of thedeal. I got friends in the Heights."Kovac pulled a folded sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his suit coat,consulted it as if it were something more important than the receiptfor his dry cleaming, put it back. "Yeah, wen, whatever you think."Verma narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What do you mean? We did the deal.Thedeal is done."Kovac shrugged, indifferent. "Whatever. I want to talk to you about the EricCurtis murder.""I didn't do it.""You know how many mutts say that?" Kovac countered. "Every last frigging oneof 'em. Do I heed to point out this ain't the RitzCarlton we're sitting in?""I copped to the Franz murder. And I didn't mean to kill him." "Of course not.How were you to know the human head can take only so much beating?""I didn't go there to kill him," Verma clarified, pouting."Oh, I see. It was his fault for being at home when you came by to rob him. Hewas clearly an idiot.You should be commended for taking him out of the genepool."Verma stood up. "Hey, I don't need you on my a.s.s, Kovac."T A"Yeah, I'm sure you've got some big homey back in lockup to cover that foryou. Think he'll go up to St. Cloud too? Or win YOU have to get back in thedating game?"Verma pointed the cigarette at him, ash raining down on the tabletop. "I amnot going to St. Cloud.You talk to my attorney.""Your attorney, the overworked, underpaid servant of Hennepin County? Yeah,I'll look him up. See if he remembers your name." He stood up, went around thetable, and put a hand on Verma's bony shoulder. "Have a seat, Mr.Vermin."Verma's b.u.t.t hit the cha'r *th a thud. He crushed out the c'I wi igarette on the tabletop and litanother."I didn't kill no cop.""Uh-huh. So the county attorney charged that outjust for the h.e.l.l of it? just'cause he wanted some poor grunt in his office to do more paperwork?" Kovacmade a face as he slid back down on his own chair. "Give me a break. Hecharged it out because it fit you to a T. Same MO as the others.""So?You never heard of a copycat?" "You don't strike me as a role model.""Yeah? So how come I got the deal?"Verma asked smugly. "They didn't have s.h.i.ton me for that murder. No prints. No witnesses." "No? Well, you're the f.u.c.kingShadow, aren't you? So if you didn'tdo Curtis, how come you had his watch in your apartment?""It was a shock to me," Verma insisted. "I sure as h.e.l.l didn't put it there.f.u.c.king Timex. Why would I steal that?""Takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin"" Kovac said. "That couldcome 1 1in handy where you're going. You knew Eric Curtis he went on. "Heran you in for soliciting-twice."Verma shrugged, pursing his lips and lowering his lashes coyly. "No hardfeelings. Last time I offered him a freebie. He was cute. He said, 'Maybe someother time.'Wish he would have taken me up.""So you dropped by his place for the rain check. One thing led to another . ..""No,"Verma said firnily. He looked Kovac in the eye as he drew hard on thecigarette. The smoke came out in a forceful stream directed at Kovac's chest."Look, Kqj ak, those other cops tried to stick me with that Curtis murder, andthey couldn't.The county attorney tried, and he couldn't."He leaned across the table, trying to look seductive. It made Kovac'sD U S TT 0S T skin crawl. "I know you're hard for it," he murmured, "but you can't stick itin me either." "I'd rather stick it in a light socket."Verma threw himself back in the chair and laughed dementedly. "Spoken like aman who doesn't know what he's missing.11"Believe me, I'm not missing it."Verma snickered, then stuck his tongue out as far as he could and waggled itobscenely. "You don't want me to suck you off, Kojak? Maybe stick my tongue inyour a.s.s?""Jesus Christ." Kovac shoved his chair back from the table. He pulled a brownm.u.f.fler from the pocket of the overcoat he had hung over the back of thechair, went across the room to the corner where the video camera hung, anddraped the scarf over it.Verma sat up straight, one hand fluttering at the base of his throat. "Hey,man, what you do that for?""Uh-oh, Renaldo!" Kovac whispered, wide-eyed, as he came back toward thetable."I don't think that video camera is working anymore!" Verma tried toscuttle off the chair, but Kovac caught him by theback of the neck and held him firmly in place, leaning down over his ' fshoulder rom behind. "The only thing I want to put up your a.s.s is the toe of my shoe," he saidsoftly. "Cut the c.r.a.p,Vermin. You think I don't have people in St. Cloud whoowe me favors?" "I'm not going to-"The pressure tightened on his neck, cutting him off. Hisshoulders came up to his ears."My sister's kid is a guard up there," Kovac hed. "He's a big dumb f.u.c.kstraight off the dairy farm. Not too bright, but he's loyal as a dog. Too badabout his temper.""Okay! Okay!"Kovac let him go and went back to his seat."Can't blame me for trying," Verma pouted, reaching for the Salems. Kovacpulled them out of reach, shook one out, and lit up, telling himself it was atactical move rather than caving in."You've got that rugged thing going on,"Verma said, playing coy. "so hot."I'Verrm*n..." "What?" he asked with a great show of exasperation. "What d'youwant from me, Kojak? You want me to cop to Curtis? f.u.c.k you. The deal is doneand I didn't do him. The county attorney didn't press it88 T A M 0 A Qcause they got s.h.i.t. But they'll let it hang on my rep. They'll say they gotme cold for Franz and saved the state some money on a trial. And that's okayby me. Won't do me no harm to have the boys at the Heights think I did a cop.But I- didn't do Curtis.You want to know who did Curtis, you ask your homicidesergeant Springer. He knows who did Curtis."Kovac let that hang in the air for a moment, as if maybe he hadn't even beenpaying attention. He looked off into the middle distance, smoking, wonderinghow sick it was to actually enjoy the feel of tar and nicotine settling in hislungs."Yeah?" he said at last, turning back toVerma. "Then why didn't he nail theson of a b.i.t.c.h?" "On account of the son of a b.i.t.c.h was another cop." "Says you.""Says that good-looking boy from Internal Affairs.""I don't know who you mean," Kovac said, nerves tightening. "Lean muscle,pretty, like aVersace model."Verma closed his eyes and hummed to himself"Yummy.""Uh-huh. So this IA weasel comes around and talks to you. He tells youb.a.l.l.s-out he thinks a cop whacked Curtis?"Verma stuck out his lower lip and slouched. Kovac wanted to smack him."Yeah, I thought so," he said. "Whatd he ask you about?"

Verma shrugged. "This and that. Stuff about the murder. Stuff about after themurder.The investigation-I use the term loosely." "And you told him what?""Why don't you ask him?""'Cause I'm asking you.You oughta be happy about that, Renaldo. You rank aboveIA. Then again, so does the clap.""I tell him I didn't kill Curtis and I don't care how many cops want me to saydifferent. Not him. Not Springer. Not the uniform." "What uniform?""The one gave me this," he said, pointing to the higher of the two b.u.mps onthe bridge of his nose. "Said I was resisting.""I apologize on behalf of the department:' Kovac said without remorse. "Thisuniform have a name?" "Big dude," Verma said. "Studly Steroid, I called him. He didn't like it. Hispartner called him B. 0. He didn't seem to mind that," he complained, flingingup a hand in disgust. "But I guess that was short forD U S T T 0 D U S T something besides the way he smelled. I read his name on his chest just beforehe knocked me out. Ogden.""Ogden," Kovac repeated, the flashback coming so fast it d.a.m.n near made hishead swim: Steve Pierce wrestling on the floor ofAndy Fallon's kitchen with ahuman moose. The moose stumbling to his feet with blood gushing from his nose.Ogden.V E R M A G 0 T A deal because your people f.u.c.ked up," Chris Logan saidbluntly as he dug through a drift of paperwork on his desk. "Talk to CalSpringer about chain of evidence. Ask him if he knows d.i.c.k about the specificsof a search warrant." "Something was funky about the evidence?" Kovac stayed on his feet near thedoor of Logan's small office, ready to bolt with the prosecutor, who was duein court in five nu*nutes. Logan swore under his breath, still staring down at the mess on his desk,hands on his hips. He was a tall, athletic type. Early thirties, with goodlooks and a big chip on his shoulder. A tough guy with a law degree and aquick temper.He was a good prosecutor. Ted Sabin's sword arm, seeing as the county attorneyrarely tried a case himself"Everything was wrong," Logan mumbled.He dove for the wastebasket sitting beside his desk, tearing through crumpledpaper, discarded candy wrappers, mutilated bags from half a dozen take-outplaces in the skyway system that connected into the government center. He cameup with a yellow wad the size of a softball, spread it out, and scanned thehandwriting. After a moment he blew out a sigh of relief and rolled his eyesheavenward. He crammed the paper into the briefcase and headed for the door.Kovac followed, then matched him stride for stride."I'm due in court," Logan said, weaving his way through the population in thehall outside the county attorney's offices."I don't have a lot of time, myself," Kovac said. He wondered if Savard hadfollowed through on her threat to call his boss. She was too tough a read tosay for s%re one way or the otherWho could say how nklong before Leon-, nk d him in for the Big Talk.They stepped into an empty elevator and Kovac badged the people trying to geton behind them. 90 T A M "Police business, folks. Sorry," he said, hitting the CLOSE DOOR b.u.t.ton withhis free hand. Logan looked unhappy, but then, he looked that way a lot of the time."Everything we had was circ.u.mstantial," he said. "Prior a.s.sociation,motive,Verma's MO. But there were no witnesses placingVerma at or near thescene, and there was no forensic evidence. No prints. No fibers. No bodily fluids. Verma had jacked off at the other crime scenes. Not with Curtis.Wedon't know why. Maybe something made him leave the scene early. Maybe hecouldn't get it up.Who knows? It could have been anything.""So, what was the deal with the watch?" Kovac asked as the elevator landed andthe doors pulled back to reveal a human hive of activity.The hall outside the courtrooms was perpetually packed with wheeler-dealers,shysters, losers, the frightened, the bewildered. All summoned to feedthemselves into the machine of the Hennepin County justice system.,"So, some idiot uniform claimed he found it on Verma's dresser, but the wholedeal stank to high heaven' " Logan said, angling for a courtroom door."It was O.J. and the f.u.c.king b.l.o.o.d.y glove all over again. No way we weregetting it admitted. And in light of the last few lawsuits against yourdepartment, Sabin didn't even want to try.""Even though the vic was a cop," Kovac said with disgust.Logan shrugged, heading for the counsel table nearest the best air vent in theroom. "We couldn't have won the case. The city didn't want another lawsuit.What was the point of pressing for it? We got Verma to cop to Franz. He'sgoing away.""On murder two' " "Piggybacked on a.s.sault with intent, on felony robbery. It's no lightweightstretch. Besides, he killed Franz with Franzs own baseball bat.Weapon ofopportunity. How could we argue premeditation?""Was there ever any feelingVerma didn't do Curtis? That maybe he really wasbeing railroaded?""There were some rumors Curtis had been hara.s.sed by other patrol cops becausehe was gay. But it didn't add up to murder, and the circ.u.mstantial casespelled outVERMA in big fat caps."Kovac sighed and looked around the room. The bailiff was jokingD U S T T 0 D U S T 91 with the clerk.The defense attorney, a squat woman with a frizzy gray bun andhuge clear-rimmed gla.s.ses, set her mega-briefcase on the defense counsel tableand came over to Logan with a hopeless smirk on her face."Last chance for a deal, Chris.""In your dreams, Phyllis," Logan said, hauling a file as thick as the Bibleout of his case. "No breaks on kiddie p.o.r.n freaks.""Too bad you don't feel as strongly about murderers," Kovac said, and walked away.W H Y' D Y 0 U Q 0 to Verma?" Liska asked, plucking a french fry from the redplastic basket Kovac's food had come in. She was late. He'd ordered withouther. "Lying sack of s.h.i.t"' she added."You've met him?" "No." She swiped a second fry through the puddle of ketchup on his plate."They're all lying sacks of s.h.i.t. That's my sweeping generalization of theday.""You want something?" he asked, hailing the waitress. "No.. I'll just eatyours.""The h.e.l.l you will.You owe me ninety-two thousand french fries as it is.Younever get your own.""They're too fattening.""What? They're less fattening if I order them?"She flashed him a grin. "That's right. And besides, you're gonna gain weight'cause you're quitting smoking. I'm doing you a favor. Why'd you go to Verma?"Kovac sat back from the burger, his appet.i.te souring. He'd chosen Patrick'sout of habit, and regretted it. As always, the place was populated by cops. Hehad claimed a booth in the rear and put his back to the corner. He felt alittle that waycornered. He didn't like what Verma had told him or what Loganhad alluded to; didn't like the knowledge that if he were to pursue this look into Andy Fallon's life, most of the other players would be cops, and therewas a fair chance not all of them would be good."Because if IA was involved in the Curtis thing, I can't say why. Savardwouldn't tell me:'he said, keeping his voice in the low register ofconfidences. "Maybe they were looking into the actual murder, likeT A M 0 A 6 your guy said. Or maybe they were looking at the investigation. I wanted afeel for it before I went to Springer for answers.""Cal Springer couldn't find s.h.i.t in a cow pasture," Liska proclaimed, thenordered a c.o.ke from a slouchy waitress. "But I've never heard anyone say he'srotten." "He's an idiot," Kovac declared. "Pompous p.r.i.c.k. He spends more time trying toorganize union socials than he does on his caseload. Still, this Curtis thinglooked like a slam-dunk. Even Springer shouldn't have been able to screw itup. ButVerma says he didn 't do it." Liska made her eyes and mouth round. "No! An innocent man i - U'n jail."Yeah, he's pure as the driven snow," Kovac said with heavy sarcasm. "Buthere's the deal. He claims a cop threw down Eric Curtis's watch in his place.Ogden."Liska's brow furrowed. "Ogden? From yesterday?""The one and only. An allegation like that would bring IA in. Logan told methe situation smelled so bad, Sabin didn't want to touch it. And Ted Sabindoesn't smell blood in the water, then climb out of the pool. Especiallyconsidering Curtis was a cop."Curtis was a gay cop," Liska reminded him. "Who was a victim of a criminaltargeting openly gay men. You think the mayor and her stooges want a mediaspotlight on that?"Kovac conceded the point with a shift of his eyebrows. "Verma also claims itwas a cop did Curtis.""So why didn't we ever hear about any of this?" Liska asked, clearly perturbedto have been left out of the loop."That's a good question. IA only got involved within the last month orso.Verma's been in the can at least two. Maybe no one knew IA was looking.Springer sure as h.e.l.l wouldn't broadcast the news if he knew about it. Thea.s.s-pucker factor would be so extreme as to render him incapable of speech."He actually found a chuckle for the thought. "Ha! IA after Cal Springer.That's funny."Liska didn't Join in the merriment, but Kovac didn't notice. "Maybe no oneknew until Andy Fallon told them:'she said. "Can you set up a meeting withyour mystery man and get ussome details?" Liska pulled a face. "He has to call me. He wouldn't give me his number thismorning. He seemed nervous."D U S T T 0 D U S T "They'd have his name and number in IA, by the sound of what you heard inthere yesterday,""But IA won't give it to us. We can't even ask. Our case is officiallyclosed." "It's closed when I sign off on it," Kovac said, realizing with no greatenthusiasm that he had gone territorial.The case was his. He didn't wantanyone telling him how to run it or when to stop it or anything else. He ran acase until he was satisfied. He was a long way from being satisfied."It won't be that simple this time," Liska said. "Guess who made Andy Fallon'scorpse leapfrog the line waiting at the morgue?" Kovac scowled. "I'm not gonnalike this, am l?""Guaranteed." He heaved a sigh and shoved his plate across the table to her."Ali, s.h.i.t.Who?"

Liska cut away the chewed-on part of the burger, then picked up thesandwichand took a big bite, ketchup oozing at the corner of her mouth. She wiped itaway with a napkin and looked him in the eye. "Ace Wyatt."Kovac growled. "That c.o.c.ksucker." "Doing a favor for Mike.""Yeah. Throwing his weight around. He sure as h.e.l.l didn't do us a favor."He took a pull on his beer and looked around the room, remembering it as ithad been the night of Ace Wyatt's retirement party: over-festive, crowded,hot, smoky. He saw Mike Fallon on the floor, the tight expression on AceWyatt's face.He considered the burden of having a man owe you his life, and having that mannever let you forget it. The obligation never ended. Ace Wyatt was stillsaving Mike Fallon, calling In favors. It was likely Wyatt's influence thathad gotten Andy Fallon's death ruled accidental rather than a straight-outsuicide, sparing Mike that burden and freeing up Andy's life insurance."Did you get the reports?" he asked. "Did Stone have them done?" "Stone didn'tdo the autopsy. Upshaw did.""Upshaw? Who the h.e.l.l is Upshaw?""Some new guy. Kinda cute, if you go for the type who has his hands in a deadbody all day. I'll pa.s.s, thanks," Liska said, then polished off the last ofthe burger.T A M 0 A Q"Did you notice anything else about him? Like if he has half a brain?""At least half, I'd say. He wasn't droohng.Whether or not he knows hiss.h.i.t-too soon to tell." "Great. " "The preliminary report says Fallon died of asphyxia. No other significantwounds to the body. No signs of a struggle.""Had he had s.e.x?" "Upshaw said he didn't find any seminal fluid where it shouldn't have been. Soif it was a game gone wrong, they were practicing safe s.e.x or saving the mainevent for last. Or it wasn't about s.e.x at all." "Tox screens in?" "No paperwork yet, but I called and talked to Barkin. He says Fallon had a lowlevel of alcohol in his bloodstream: point oh-four. And a barbiturate,something called zolpidem, which is a sleeping pill also known by the brandname Ambien. That would be more consistent with suicide than a s.e.x game,although the amounts were by no means lethal, even in combination. Plenty ofpeople dope themselves up for the big deed. Now, if they'd found Rohypnol orsomething, that would be a different story. No one plans to date-rapethemselves, except maybe a lonely m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t."Kovac frowned at a memory that wouldn't quite come clear. "Did anyone checkout what was in Andy Fallon's medicine cabinet?" "No reason to at the time.""I want to know." "You won't get a warrant.""What do I need with a warrant? Who's going to object?"Liska shrugged and sucked on the straw of her c.o.ke, her gaze scanning theroom. She sat back, face impa.s.sive, but eyes suddenly hard and sharp."What?" Kovac asked. "Here comes Cal Springer. Looks like he ate too many jalapefios and can'tfart." Springer moved through the crowd like a wooden figure, muscles taut withanger, face pink with temper or cold or both. He had a long, flat face with along, hooked nose, the look crowned by a mop of unruly brown-gray curls. Hisgaze lit on Kovac and he rushed forward, barreling into the slouchy waitress.She spilled a beer and swore, and Springer ruined his entrance with awkwardapologies.D U S T T 0 D U S T I Kovac shook his head. "Hey, Cal, I heard you knock the ladies out. I didn'tknow they meant it literally."Springer jabbed a finger at him. "What were you doing withR,enaldoVerma?""We did the tango and had a cigarette.""His lawyer was all over me this afternoon. No one cleared that meeting withhim. Or with me.""No one had to clear it with him. Verma agreed to see me. He could have calledthe lawyer if he wanted. And since when do I have to ask you for permission towipe my a.s.s?""That's my case.""And it's over.You're out.What's the big deal?"Springer glanced around like a man about to disclose sensitive state secrets."It's not over.""Oh, on account of IA?" Kovac asked loudly. Springer looked sick."They don't have a case against you, do they?" Liska. asked. "I mean, you'renot the one who threw down the watch, are you, Cal?""I didn't do anything.""Consistent with your usual investigative techniques," Kovac said. "If that'sa crime, you'd better bend over and kiss your a.s.s good-bye. "Springer glared at him. "I ran a clean investigation. I worked thatcase by the book.Verma has no call coming after me. IA either." "Then why areyou wasting your time trying to ream me a new one?" Kovac asked.Springer took a breath and held it tight for a couple of seconds, like a mantrying to force something from his body by straining. "Stay out of it, Kovac.It's over. The case is closed and everything with it.""Well, make up your mind, Cal. Is it over or isn't it?" Kovac said, watchinghim, wondering. He could see Liska watching Springer too, though herexpression held a certain tension, as if it caused her distress to watch CalSpringer battle his nerves."The IA lieutenant told me there's nothing ongoing with the Curtis murder,"Kovac said. "Not today, anyway. Her investigator's dead.""I know," Springer murmured, glancing away, the red draining from his face. "Iheard. Suicide. Too bad.""So they say."Springer looked at him again. "What's that mean?" Kovac shrugged. "Nothing.Figure of speech."96 T A M0 A 0Springer weighed that for a moment, weighed his options. In the end, hisshoulders sagged and the air leaked out of his lungs."Look," he said. "I can't have IA on my a.s.s. I'm running for union delegate.""Having IA on you oughta make you a shoo-in.""Only if guys like you bothered to vote. I've got bigger plans for my lifethan you do, Kovac,. I care about what goes in my jacket. Please don't f.u.c.kthat up for me."Kovac watched him walk away, watched him bang into the same waitress he'd runinto on his entrance, his mind clearly not in Patrick's bar."By the book," Kovac scoffed. "What book do you suppose that is? PracticalHomicide Investigation For Dummies?"Liska didn't answer him. She had turned sideways in the booth to watchSpringer go, but she seemed to be looking at something a whole lot fartheraway. Maybe light-years, he thought. He reached across the table and poked hershoulder."Hey, that was a good one," he said. "Deserving of recognition." "Lay off him,Sam," she said, turning back around. "Springer's square. He doesn't deservewhat IA might do to him for no good reason.""If he knows something, I want it." "I'll get it!)Kovac watched her. She dodged his gaze. She looked fourteen and in possessionof a burdensome secret. Knowledge of the football captain drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. She reached tentatively for the last french fry and traced the end of it through the coagulating glob of ketchup.

"Is something up with you?" he asked quietly.

Her mouth twisted into a semblance of her smart-a.s.s smirk. "Sure," she said.

"My hormones. Wanna do something about that?"

"If your hormones are up because of Cal Springer, I want to hose you down with ice water."

"Please. I just ate," she said with disgust. "It's been a long day. On top of a long night. I should go home."

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with IA."

"I don't," she said, busying herself gathering her things. "How's that stop me from getting what Springer has? He. doesn't want anything to do with them either."

D U S T.

T 0.

D U S T 97.

"Suit yourself." Liska was ent.i.tled to a mystery or two, he supposed, though he didn't like the idea.

He got up and tossed some bins on the table, then grabbed his coat off the hook on the end of the booth. "I'm going to go see what Andy Fallon kept in his medicine chest."

"Sam Kovac, Round-the-Clock Detective." "What else have I got to do with my time?"

"Nothing, apparently. Don't you ever want something more?" she asked, sliding out of the booth.

"Naw." He ignored the image of Amanda Savard that came to mind. That was too ludicrous to even consider as a fantasy. "If you never want anything, then you can't be disappointed when you don't get it."

98 T A M.

C N A P T E R.

THE PARKING GARAGE hadbeen named for a cop who hadbeen murdered in cold blood in a pizza place on Lake Street. This thought always came to Liska when it was late and she was going in alone to find her car, or when she was tired and looking at the future with a jaundiced eye. She scored on all counts tonight.

Rush hour had pa.s.sed, the ramp seemed deserted, and her mood was dark. Kovac had gone back to the office to get the key to Fallon's house. She had blown off his offer to walk her to her car.

The hair p.r.i.c.kled on the back of her neck. She stopped abruptly and turned around, glaring into the gloom. Sound bounced around and echoed in the concrete labyrinth, making it difficult to identify the source.The slam of a car door could be a level above or below.The sc.r.a.pe of a foot could be at the end of the row. Or right behind you. Parking ramps were a favorite of muggers and rapists. Vagrants, most of them drunk or mentally ill, liked the ramps for shelter and to use as public toilets when they got kicked out of places like the downtown public library.

Liska's breath burned in her lungs as she waited and watched, turning slowly, one hand slipping inside her coat and finding the b.u.t.t of her gun at her waist.

99.

She saw no one, heard nothing of any significance. Maybe she was just being edgy, but she had just cause. She had spent her day inquiring about the deaths of two cops. She felt as if someone had put a pillow over her head and beat her with a tire iron. She wanted her home, her sweats, her boys, a few hours to ignore the fact that she had volunteered to dig around in an IA s.h.i.tpile.

"That was a blond moment," she -muttered, releasing the gun and digging her keys out of her coat pocket.

Now she had to figure a way to sweet-talk information out of Cal Springer.

Christ.Without barfing.Tall order.

It was hard to figure Springer for being in on anything dirty. He was seldomallowed in on lunch, let alone a conspiracy, but there was no denying thesmell of fear on him. It was a scent memory that tumbled her all the way backto her father. She hated it. "Why couldn't I have listened to my mother?" she muttered. "Learn a trade,Nikki. Cosmetology. Food service.Aim high. Get ajob you can wear a nice skirtfor. Meet the man of your dreams."The dark blue Saturn that served as traveling office and taxi sat at the endof the row, next to the wall, in a spot too dark for her liking now that nighthad fallen. Nose out, poised for a quick getaway. She hit the b.u.t.ton on thekeyless remote and swore under her breath. Nothing happened. No click of locksreleasing. No flash of lights.The thing had been on the fritz for weeks,sometimes working, sometimes not. Liska, on the other hand, seemed always tobe working and never had the time to take it in. It seemed too small aninconvenience to bother with. Until she was alone in a dark parking ramp.A thump and a sc.r.a.pe froze her in her tracks a second time. On another levelof the ramp she could hear the squeal of protest from a steering column beingcranked too far in one direction. On this level, she could feel a presence.Another human. The awareness vibrated in her nerve endings. She didn't gothrough the bulls.h.i.t rationalization most women did in a situation where theyfelt unease. Instincts were to be trusted above the teachings of an allegedlypolite society If she felt something was wrong, then something was probably wrong."Hey! Who's there?" she demanded, turning slowly. The tough chick. Thecome-over-here-and-I'U-kick-your-a.s.s voice. Her heart rate had picked upfifteen extra beats per minute.She sidled toward the car, key in her left hand, the right one reaching againfor the gun, slipping it from the belt holster. With the tip ofT A M the key, she felt for the lock, missing once, twice. Her gaze remained up,scanning left to right, right to left, catching- Something. Someone.Theshadowed side of a concrete column that seemed a bit too thick, a littledistorted. Liska blinked and tried to refocus. Too dark. It might have been something or nothing.The key found the lock. She eased down into the Saturn, shut the door, hit thepower lock b.u.t.ton, and got no response. She cursed the car and started theengine, hit the lock b.u.t.ton again, and this time was rewarded by the thump oflocks engaging. Her gaze was still on the column fifty feet away. She coulddetect no motion, but the feeling of another living creature being there,watching her, lingered.Time to go.She tossed her briefcase on the pa.s.senger side, amid the debris of workingmotherhood, a mess that looked even worse than usual and spilled from the seatto the floor. junk mail, a Burger King bag, a couple of magazines, one of theboys' stray sneakers, some plastic action figures. And a whole lot of brokengla.s.s.Nine more extra beats a minute. The pa.s.senger's side window was gone, reduced to a thousand bits that layscattered on the seat and floor, mixed in with the junk mail and the BurgerKing bag, and the magazines and R.J.'s stray sneaker and the plastic actionfigures. It was probably the work of some junkie, Liska told herself Probablyher phantom in the shadows, who was now hiding, waiting for her to go so hecould knock in someone else's window in search of valuables to hock. That was the likely explanation.She started the engine and put the car in gear. She would drive down to streetlevel and call for a radio car from the well-lit area near the attendant's booth. A red dash light caught her eye, telling her to service the engine soon."Yeah. How about you service my engine soon?" she grumbled, easing the car out of the slot. Her headlights. .h.i.t the column. Nothing. No one. She tried to let go of thesuspicion as she exhaled, but the tension wouldn't dissipate. She looked tothe rearview mirror as she pa.s.sed the column andcaught a glimpse of something. Half the figure of a man standing near a sedanthree cars away, back toward where she had been parked.D U S T T 0 D U S T 101 Nothing strange about a person in a parking garage. Every car had one sooneror later. Usually they opened doors and turned on lights. This one didn't. Hestepped out of sight. Liska abandoned the mirror and looked over her leftshoulder. Her right hand rested on her gun on the seat beside her: a neatlittle Sig Sauer, sized to fit her small hand and still knock the s.h.i.t out ofa charging bull.Where had he come from? She'd been watching and listening for another personto the point of straining her eyes and ears. No one had walked that far intothe ramp after her without her knowing."Hey!" The voice struck like a bullet. Liska snapped her head around to theright to see a man lunging toward the car, his head and upper body thrustingthrough the window frarne."Hey!" he shouted again. His face was like something carved out of a stumpwith a penknife. Craggy, dirty. Yellow teeth. Filthy beard. Wild, dark eyes. "Gimme five dollars!" Liska gunned the engine. The tires shrieked against the concrete. The manscreamed in rage, rough hands grabbing hold of the front pa.s.senger's seat bythe stems of the headrest. Liska brought the Sig up and swung it toward hisface. "Get outta my car! I'm a cop!"The man's mouth tore open and a sound of rage roared up out of him on a foulbreath. Liska stabbed the Sig at him, half an inch from his mouth. "Let90, a.s.shole!"With one hand, she cranked the wheel left and hit the brakes, sending theSaturn into a skid. One of the back panels. .h.i.t a minivan, and the drunk losthis grip on the headrest and was flung out the window.Liska jammed the car into park, jumped out the door, and ran around the hood,leading with the Sig in a stiff-arm grip. The drunk lay crumpled near the backdoor of a filthy seventies Cadillac, still as death, eyes closed. s.h.i.t, thatwas all she needed-to have killed somebody. The parking ramp booth attendantran up the ramp from the level below: a fat guy in a bad uniform with atoo-small parka open to let his beer gut lead the way."Jeez, lady!" he exclaimed between gulps of air. It was twenty degrees and hewas sweating like a racehorse, limp brown hair matted to *his big head. Hiseyes bugged as he caught sight of the gun, and he raised his arms.102 T A H 0 A 0 "I'm a cop," Liska said. "He's under arrest. Is there any security on duty?""Uh ... he's on a break." "Great. At the strip Joint down the block, right?"The attendant opened and closed his mouth a couple of times. Liska checked thedrunk for signs of life. His breathing was regular and he had agood pulse. There was no blood she could see. She pulled a pair of handcuffiout of her coat pocket and snagged one of his wrists."You got a cell phone on you?" she asked, glancing at the attendant. "Yes,ma'am." "Call n*ne-one-one.We need police and an ambulance."1 He looked ready to dive for cover. "Yes, ma'am. I thought you said you're a cop.""Just do it." The drunk cracked open a bloodshot eye and tried to focus on her. "You're aboy," he declared. "Gimme five dollars."Liska glared at him. "You have the right to remain silent. Use it." Shesnapped the other cuff to the back door handle of the Caddie. Then she wentback to the Saturn and dug a huge Maglite patrolman's flashlight out of theglove compartment. The thing weighed three pounds and doubled as a club. Theattendant was still standing with his hands up as she came out of the car.Liska glared at him. "Why aren't you calling?" "I didn't want tomake anysudden moves." "Oh, for G.o.d's sake."She snapped on the Maglite with her left hand, dug the Sig back out of herpocket, and started back up the ramp."Where are you going?" the attendant called."To look for the boogie man. Go make that call, Slick."I T W A S N E A R L Y ten o'clock by the time Liska pulled into her owndriveway, exhausted and disgusted. More so when she saw Speed's car blockingher way into the garage. It didn't matter that she couldn't actually get hercar in the garage because of the acc.u.mulation ofjunk. It was a matter ofprinciple.She sat in the Saturn, freezing, the heater not able to compete against thecold rushing in the busted window. She'd found no traceD U S T T 0 0 U S T of her phantom in the ramp. The uniforms had taken custody of the drunk-EdwardGedes-and followed the ambulance to HCMC, where they would kill time drinkingcoffee and flirting with the nurses in the ER, as they waited for Edward toget checked out.There wasn't much to charge him with unless they could provehe was the one who broke the window, and Liska didn't see that happening. Hergut told her it hadn't happened. Maybe Gedes had busted the window, thenwaited for her to come so he could try to jump through it like a trick pony,but she didn't think so. Nothing had been missing from the car, not that she kept anything of realvalue in it. No one had broken in to steal R.J.'s Jesse Ventura action figure.The glove compartment had not been ransacked. The stereo hadn't been touched.She almost wished it had been.The theft of something would have made thebroken window make sense. The only thing in the car that had been disturbedhad been her *unk mail. jSomeone willing to break into a car in a public garage now had her homeaddress. The phantom in the shadows.Why her car, of all the cars in the ramp?She gathered her stuff and trudged to the house. No one noticed her entrance.A battle was being waged in her living room. In one corner a tent had beenfashioned from a blanket. Dining room chairs had been dragged in andoverturned to make a fort near the Christmas tree. Their faces streaked with camo paint, the boys were running around in their pajamas, waving plasticlight sabers, making enough noise to wake the dead. Her ex-husband wascrouched behind the recliner, wearing a bathrobe over his clothes, a black ragtied around his head, a glow-in-the-dark samurai sword in hand."Welcome home, Mom," Liska said, slinging her purse onto the dining roomtable. "Did you have a good day? Not really," she answered herself "But thankyou for asking. I'm just glad to be home where everything is peaceful andorderly, and I feel loved by all."Kyle reacted first, stopping in his tracks, the grin dropping off his face ashe looked from his mother to his father and back. Two years older than R.J.,he remembered the hostilities at the end of the marriage, and was sensitive tothe tension that remained between his parents.

"Hi, Mom," he said, glancing down at the toy in his hand and setting it aside,as if he were embarra.s.sed to be caught having fun. He had his father'sheartbreaker looks, but a seriousness lacking in Speed's genes.T A 0 A Q"Hi, Big GUY!' Liska went to him, brushed his hair back, and kissed hisforehead. Kyle looked at the floor.

R.J. squealed like a wild pig and ran around in circles, swinging his saberwith reckless abandon, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his mother'spresence. Anger burned a familiar p ath through her as sh e turned her gaze on her ex."Hey, Speed, fancy meeting you here. Again. You're almost acting like you're afather or something. Where's Heather?""I sent her home," he said, straightening out of his crouch. "Why should youpay a sitter if you don't have to? I had some time tonight." "That's veryconsiderate of you to think of my financial situation,"she said, wanting badly to add, especially considering you never bother tocontribute to the cause. But she bit her tongue for the boys' sake."It's way past bedtime, boys," she said, playing the bad guy again andin 1 resenti g Speed for it. "Go wash your faces and brush your teeth, please."Kyle started from the room. R.J. stared at her with big eyes, then gave abloodcurdling shout and leapt in the air, twisting and flailing his arms andlegs in his best Ninja impersonation.Kyle went and grabbed his arm. "Knock it off, Rockhead"' he said in hissternest voice. Liska didn't reprimand him."I realize you made a career of truancy," she told Speed after the boys hadleft the room, "but your sons actually attend school. They need a certainamount of sleep for that.""One late night won't kill them, Nikki." "No."But why did you have to pick tonight? she wanted to say, except she was afraidshe might burst into tears if she did. She was too worn out for Speed tonight,and Kovac's burger was a long time past. She rubbed her face with her handsand walked away from him, back through the dining room and into the kitchen,where she began rummaging through one of the lower cupboards.She could see Speed strike a pose in the doorway. He had shed the bathrobe,revealing a black Aerosmith T-shirt stretched taut across his chest andclinging to his flat belly. The short sleeves strained around upper arms thickwith well-cut muscle. He looked as if he'd been pumping iron in a serious way.He pulled the rag off his head and ruffled, his short hair, making it stand upin tufts. "You want to talk about it?" he asked. "Since when do we talk about anything?"D U S T T 0 D U S T LOS He shrugged. "So we start tonight."

"I don't want to start anything tonight."

She pulled a box of translucent blue trash bags from the cupboard and scrutinized one for size and durability. "It'll do for now."

"Do for what?"

"Someone busted the side window out of my car tonight. Makes for a drafty ride doing sixty on the freeway."

"G.o.dd.a.m.n *unkies:'he muttered. "They steal anything?" "Nope."