Hazard turned slowly toward him.

“Uh,” Darnell said, “right. Anyway. You’re sure Gray didn’t have pets when he was a kid.”

“It’s logical.”

“Wait. You don’t know?”

“Based on the details I do know—”

“I’m going to check his Facebook page,” Darnell said, getting out his phone and tapping at the screen.

Hazard sank into the vinyl-covered chair, trying to think. What would Dulac use as a password? Dulac liked partying; he liked hot guys; he liked himself—young and attractive and in charge. Something to do with police work? An important case he had closed? Or something more . . . personal. A porn star he liked? A high-end alcohol that was trendy right now? A favorite sex toy or position or inclination?

The door opened, and the curtain billowed on the sudden movement of air. A woman’s voice asked, “What’s going on in here? We heard some yelling.”

A snap-crackle-pop of gum followed, and Sheila said, “Nothing, doll. Just the TV.”

“How are you doing today, Miss Sheila?”

“Better, doll. A lot better.”

“Let’s get your vitals while I’m here.”

Hazard tuned out the rest of the conversation, trying to get his thoughts back on track. He had watched, statistically, a sub-average amount of porn, and it was unlikely he’d be able to guess who Dulac favored. He also doubted that he’d be able to guess a sex toy or predilection, if Dulac were using one as a password. Hazard had been mildly shocked in a few unfortunate conversations to find that Dulac was substantially more . . . worldly than he was. At least, in some areas.

Pulling out his phone, Hazard decided to try to look for old news stories about Dulac’s cases in Springfield. Maybe something there had been big enough, career defining, and Dulac might refer to it in a password. As he tapped through the search, bits and pieces of Sheila’s conversation with the nurse filtered through.

“. . . and very take charge . . . just walked right in here . . . says please and thank you . . . easy on the eyes, oh yes,” and, salted through the whole conversation, “tingling.”

Hazard’s head came up slowly. Darnell was staring at him.

“Tingling,” Darnell breathed.

“If you ever say a fucking word of this,” Hazard said.

Darnell nodded frantically and then started scratching at his beard. It must have been a bad itch because he had his hand up there a long time.

“Well?” Hazard said.

“No pets,” Darnell said.

Hazard struggled for a moment and then said, “Huh.”

“I’m going to ask John-Henry how he does this every day.”

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. What do you have?”

Hazard tossed his phone on the seat next to him and rubbed his face. “Nothing. He did good work in Springfield, but nothing earth shattering.”

“What about a number?” Darnell said. “He’s got a pin enabled for this device. I already tried his birthday.”

“Nobody asked me,” pop-pop-pop, “but I used Mr. Twistyknicker’s birthday for my ATM machine card.”