Poitras told me about the Bennett thing. That must be weird, considering.

Was her picture in the book?

Starkey blew more of the smoke.

Yeah.

I looked up at the house. Someone moved in the shadows, but I couldn't tell if it was Poitras or Marx.

Starkey said, Are you okay?

When I glanced back, her eyes were concerned.

I'm fine.

It was me, I'd be, I dunno, upset.

He couldn't have killed her. I proved it.

Starkey blew another cloud of smoke, then waved her cigarette at the surrounding houses.

Well, he didn't have any friends here in the neighborhood, I can tell you that. Most of these people didn't know him except to see him, and the ones who knew him stayed clear. He was a total asshat.

I thought the task force cut you out.

They used us here with the door-to-door. Lady at that house, he told her she had a muscular ass. Just like that. Woman at that house, she runs into him getting his mail and he tells her she could pick up some extra cash if she dropped around one afternoon.

That was Lionel Byrd.

Starkey, you're right. Byrd was a professional asshat, but he didn't kill Yvonne Bennett. I don't believe it.

Starkey frowned, but the smile flickered again.

Man, you are stubborn.

And cute. Don't forget cute.

I could have told her I was also sick to my stomach, but I let it go with cute.

She drew another serious hit on the cigarette, then flicked it into a withered century plant. Here we were in fire season with red-flag alerts, but Starkey did things like that. She pulled me farther away from the uniforms and lowered her voice.

Okay, listen, I know some things about this Poitras doesn't know. I'm going to tell you, but you can't tell anyone.

You think I'm going to run home and put it on my blog?

Guy I worked with at CCS is on with the task force. He spent all week analyzing the stuff we pulled out of the house. You won't like this, but he told me Byrd's good for the killings. He says it's solid.

How does he know that?

I don't know, moron. We're friends. I took his word for it.

Starkey nudged me farther from the uniforms again and lowered her voice even more.

What I'm saying, Cole, is I can have him explain it to you. You want me to set it up?

It was like being thrown a life preserver in a raging storm, but I glanced up at the house. Poitras was standing in the door. They were about to come out.

I don't want you to get in trouble.

Hey, fuck Marx. The real chief gets back, he'll probably ream the guy a new asshole. You want in with my guy or not?

That would be great, Carol. Really.

The woman across the street was still in her window, watching us as I left.

Chapter 5