Milo showed her pictures. "Tristram Wydette and Quinn Glover, hot guys, I can see the attraction. Hot rich guys, Tristram drives that Jaguar, Quinn's got that yellow Hummer. They tip well for lap dances?"

The girl barely glanced at the images. "I still don't know 'em."

"Actually, you still do, Bri."

He gave her a few seconds to reconsider. When she remained mute and sullen, he scooted even closer. She looked over her shoulder, searching for room to escape. Saw blank wall and exhaled.

"Bri, we already know a lot, so you might as well help yourself. Let's start with you and Selma meeting Tristram and Quinn at the Hungry Lion, then partying together for months. We've got their credit card records, so we know when they started coming in, how much money they spent on you. We've got other sources, so we also know about the promises they made."

Pausing to give her a chance.

Bri Blevins shook her head.

"Promises of amazing stuff," he went on. "Like taking you guys on a private jet to Aspen. And all you had to do was be nice."

He let the last word sink in. The taut flesh sheathing Bri Blevins's scapulae turned rosy, bottoming the love-devotion message in rose.

She still had the capacity to blush.

Milo said, "We don't care about that kind of nice, Bri. The only nice that interests us is a favor you did for them on a certain night. Something you worked out with Gilberto Chavez. Know who that is?"

"No." Emphatic.

"He's a Spanish guy you paid to buy dry ice, out in Van Nuys."

False eyelashes quaked. The blush across her chest seeped out as if liposuctioned. "Remember that, Bri?"

No answer.

"Different kind of ice from what you're used to," said Milo. "We found that nice little chunk of meth in your purse. Selma said you're the one always bought, she just shared."

"That's a lie!"

"Your word against Selma's, Bri, and Selma's being helpful. But honestly, Bri, the dope's no big deal, I couldn't care less about that kind of ice. What I do care about is dry ice. 'Cause that was used for something bad, Bri. You know what I'm talking about."

The girl blinked, crossed her arms across her torso, and dropped her head. "Uh-uh."

"Actually, you do, Bri. And unfortunately for you and Selma, you also knew the dry ice was going to be used for something really bad. And guess how we know that?"

Shrug.

"We know because Selma told us, Bri. How else would we know? You buy ice for some rich dudes, no problem. You buy ice knowing it's going to be used to kill someone, big problem, that's called accomplices before the fact. According to the law, that's the same as committing murder."

Bri Blevins looked up, tried to match his stare. Couldn't handle five seconds before she dropped her head to the table.