He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and flashed a quick glance at Hot Pants. She cocked her head and gave him an open smile. He smiled back and returned to his smoke. He didn’t turn around, but he could hear her approaching.

“Got a light?” she asked. Her voice was sultry.

Decker slipped out his matches and lit her cigarette.

“Thank you, Honey,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you doing out here all alone, Sugar?”

He paused, then said, “Enjoying the air.”

“Nature lover, huh?”

He let his eyes drift slowly over her body. Her tight nylon top offered little support for her sagging breasts. Her crotch was bisected by sprayed-on shorts—cunt-cutters.

“I love what nature has given us,” he answered trying to look hungry.

“How much do you love nature, Sugar?”

“How much does it cost to love nature?”

“I think fifty dollars will give you an awful lot of raw beauty.”

“What are we talking about here?” he said exhaling a plume of smoke.

“What do you want, Honey?”

“What are my choices?”

“You tell me what you want,” she said.

He wasn’t about to entrap her, so he changed course abruptly.

“Listen, bitch, if you’re gonna fuck with my mind, forget the whole thing. I don’t need this shit.”

He started to walk away, but she caught his arm.

“Sugar, Sugar, don’t get so hot. Save it for when it counts.” She studied his face and decided to go for it. “Suck or fuck, take your pick.”

“If I want both?”

“Cost you twenty-five more.”

“Let me see if I’ve got the bread.” He reached in his coat pocket, pulled out his badge, and grabbed her arm.

“Aw Jesus,” she groaned.

“C’mon, Hot Pants, just behave yourself.” He turned her around, leaned her against a building, and frisked her.

“What you fuckers won’t do for a free feel,” she said.

“Save it,” he said, cuffing her.

“Asshole,” she said evenly. “Now, Sugar, just what do you think this is gonna do? You know I’ll be back here tomorrow night. Why do you waste everyone’s time?”

He propelled her into a dark, secluded alley.

“What are you doing, Sugar?” she said, suddenly concerned.

He pinned her against a wall, boring his eyes into her face. Her lids widened with fear and her mouth dropped open.

“What do you want?” she asked nervously.

“Help.”

“Say what?”

“You’ve got a choice. You give me a little help and your ass is back on the streets in a few minutes. You jive me, you spend the night in the slammer.”

“What do you want?” she repeated.

“I’m trying to locate a runaway.” He pulled out Lindsey’s picture and showed it to her.

She stared at it, then shook her head.

“What makes you think she’s here?” she asked.