“Okay, here we go.” Instead of drawing out papers, he snapped the case shut, placed it on the floor. Smiled at Rieffen and kept observing her with that lazy, hooded look he produces when the mood’s right.

Her lips turned up. More sickly confusion than anything related to glee.

“What do you need to know, Lieutenant?”

“Well, for starts, let’s talk about Monte.”

Lara Rieffen’s head retracted. Pretty blue eyes shot to the door. Milo crossed his legs and put his hands behind his head. Try to bolt, go ahead, you’re mine, I’m not worried.

Lara Rieffen said, “Monte?” as if trying out a foreign word. “As in Carlo. As in Scoppio.” No answer.

“As in Dwayne Parris.” Rieffen shook her head. “As in boom, Lara.”

Rieffen crossed her own legs. Smiled weakly and exhaled. “Thank God.”

“For what, Lara?”

“He terrifies me, says if I ever think about leaving him he’ll cut me up, dump the pieces where they’ll never be found.”

Milo winced. “That’s heavy-duty.”

“Super-heavy-duty, Lieutenant, but if you’re asking about him, you probably know that.”

Angling for info. When that didn’t work, she scrunched her eyes, worked at pushing out tears. Produced a couple of sorry-looking droplets.

Milo’s big, thick fingers rested atop hers. “Finally,” she said. “Someone who can help me.”

“Protect and serve, Lara. Okay, let’s get the details so we can nail this bastard good.”

Lara Rieffen’s technique was classic con: a mix of understatement, distraction, and outright lies. Painting Dwayne Parris/Monte Scoppio as ultimate evil, herself as submissive victim, all the while trying to pry out what Milo knew.

He fly-fished her, dangling error as bait then withdrawing, puncturing minor falsehoods with good nature while ignoring the whoppers.

Setting the hook.

“So… when exactly did you meet Monte?”

“Couple of years ago.”

“Really? Hmm.” Another mumbling foray into the attaché case. “Um, I could be wrong here, but I think I had a notation here… unfortunately, I can’t seem to find it… never mind.”

“What kind of notation, Lieutenant?”

“We’ve been talking to people about Monte. Doing background, you know? Someone claimed you and he knew each other way back—in high school.”

“Not really.”

“It’s not true?” More rummaging. “Ah, here it is Center High, class of—”

“Oh, that. Technically it’s true, but Center was huge, we hung in different crowds.”

“So you knew who he was—”

“Barely. We met up years later and even that was nothing intense.”

“Couple of years ago.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“I was backpacking with some friends in Oregon. He was at the same campsite. I didn’t recognize him but he recognized me. He can be charming, I’d just broken up with a boyfriend, guess I was vulnerable.”

“Ah.” Scrawl. “Well that clears that up … Would you like something to drink, Lara?”