Donnie Ray Michael wore a ratty brown bathrobe and a silver nose ring with an emerald cabochon. His eyes were a bleary hazel, his hair the color of butter, and his breath ferocious.
He studied Eve's badge, expelling air in a yawn that nearly knocked her flat, then scratched his armpit.
"What?"
"Donnie Ray? Got a minute?"
"Yeah, I got plenty of minutes, but what?"
"I'll tell you after we come in, and you gargle with a gallon or two of mouthwash."
"Oh." He went slightly pink and stepped back. "I was asleep. Wasn't expecting visitors. Or cops." But he waved them inside, then disappeared down a short hallway.
The place was as tidy as your average pigsty, with clothes, empty and half-empty take-out containers, overflowing ashtrays, and a litter of computer discs strewn over the floor. In the corner beside a threadbare sofa was a music stand and a brightly polished saxophone.
Eve caught a drift in the air of very old onions and the shadow of an illegal usually consumed by smoking. "If we decide a search is in order," Eve told Peabody, "we've got probable cause."
"What, suspicion of toxic waste?"
"There's that." Eve toed what might have been underwear aside. "He's been pumping Zoner, probably as a bedtime soother. You can just smell it."
Peabody sniffed. "I just smell sweat and onions."
"It's there."
Donnie Ray walked back in, his eyes slightly clearer, his face red and damp from a quick splash. "Sorry about the mess. Droid's year off. What's this about?"
"Do you know Marianna Hawley?"
"Marianna?" His brow wrinkled in thought. "I dunno. Should I?"
"You matched with her through Personally Yours."
"Oh, the dating gig." He kicked clothes out of the way then dropped into a chair. "Yeah, I gave that a shot a few months back. I was in a drought." He smiled a little, then shrugged. "Marianna. Was she a big redhead – no, that was Tanya. We hit it off pretty well, but she moved to Albuquerque for Christ's sake. I mean what rocks there?"
"Marianna, Donnie Ray. Slim brunette. Green eyes."
"Yeah, yeah, now I get her. Sweet. We didn't click, too much like, well, a sister. She came to the club where I was blowing and heard me, we had a couple of drinks. So?"
"You ever watch the screen, read the paper?"
"Not when I've got a steady gig. I'm booked with a group downtown at the Empire. Been doing the ten-to-four slot for the last three weeks."
"Seven nights on?"
"No, five. You blow seven nights, you lose the edge."
"How about Tuesday night?"
"I'm off Tuesday. Mondays and Tuesdays are clear." His eyes were focused now and just beginning to go wary. "What's the deal?"
"Marianna Hawley was murdered Tuesday night. You got an alibi for Tuesday from nine to midnight?"
"Oh, shit. Shit. Murdered. Jesus H." He sprang up, stumbling over debris as he paced. "Man, that bites. She was a sweetheart."
"Did you want her to be your sweetheart? Your true love."
He stopped pacing. Eve found it interesting that he didn't look frightened or angry. He looked sorry. "Look, I had a couple of drinks with her one night. A little talk, tried to convince her to take a harmless roll, but she wasn't into it. I liked her. You couldn't help but like her."
He pushed his fingers against his eyes, then ran them back into his hair again. "That was, hell, six months ago, maybe more. I haven't seen her since. What happened to her?"
"Tuesday night, Donnie Ray."
"Tuesday?" He rubbed his hands over his face. "I don't know. Hell, who remembers? I probably did a few clubs, some hanging. Lemme think a minute."
He closed his eyes, blew out a couple of breaths. "Tuesday I went down to Crazy Charlie's and heard this new band."
"Did you go with anybody?"
"A few of us started out together. I don't know who ended up at Crazy's. I was pretty wasted by then."
"Tell me, Donnie Ray, what did you buy the full product line of Natural Perfection for? You don't look like the type to paint up."
"What?" He looked baffled, then dropped into the chair again. "What the hell is Natural Perfection?"
"You ought to know. You spent over two thousand on the line. Cosmetics, Donnie Ray. Enhancements."
"Cosmetics." He shoved his hands through his hair until it stood up in buttery spikes. "Oh shit, yeah. The jazzy stuff. My mother's birthday. I bought her the works."
"You spent two large on your mother's birthday?" With doubt obvious in her eyes. Eve glanced around the cramped, messy room.
"My mother's the best. The old man ditched us when I was a kid. She worked like three dogs to keep a roof over my head, and to pay for music lessons." He nodded toward the sax. "I make good money blowing. Fucking good. Now I'm helping to pay for the roof over her head, in Connecticut. A decent house in a decent neighborhood. This…" he gestured to encompass the room, "it don't matter a damn to me. I'm hardly here except to flake out."
"How about I call your mother, right now, and ask her what her boy Donnie Ray gave her for her last birthday?"
"Sure." Without hesitation he jerked a thumb toward the 'link on a table by the wall. "Her number's programmed. Just do me a favor, okay? Don't tell her you're a cop. She worries. Say you're doing a survey or something."
"Peabody, ditch the uniform jacket and call Donnie Ray's mom." Eve moved out of transmission range and sat on the arm of a chair. "Rudy at Personally Yours do your profile?"
"No, well, I talked to him first. I got the feeling everybody does. Like an audition. Then some joker did the consult. What do you like to do for entertainment, what do you dream about, what's your favorite color. You take a physical, too, to make sure you're clean."
"They didn't turn up traces of Zoner."
He had the grace to look abashed. "No. I was clean."
"I bet your mother would want you to stay that way."
"Ms. Michael received a complete line of Natural Perfection Cosmetics and Enhancers from her son on her birthday." Peabody shrugged back into her uniform jacket, then gave Donnie Ray a smile. "She was really happy with the gift."
"She's pretty, isn't she?"
"Yes, she is."
"She's the best."
"That's what she said about you," Peabody told him.
"I got her diamond earrings for Christmas. Well, they're really just chips, but she'd get a large charge." He was eyeing Peabody with interest now, having seen her without the stiff jacket. "You ever get down to the Empire?"
"Not yet."
"You ought to drop in. We really blow."
"Maybe I will." But she caught Eve's owlish look and cleared her throat. ' Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Michael."
"Do your mother a favor," Eve said as they headed for the door. "Shovel out this garbage heap and lay off the Zoner."
"Yeah, sure." And Donnie Ray gave Peabody a suggestive wink before he closed the door.
"It's unseemly to flirt with suspects, Officer Peabody."
"He's not really a suspect." Peabody glanced over her shoulder. "And he was really cute."
"He's a suspect until we confirm his alibi. And he's a pig."
"But a really cute pig. Sir."
"We've got two more interviews to conduct, Peabody. Try to control your hormones."
"I do, Dallas, I do." She sighed as she climbed back into the car. "But it's so nice when they control me."
CHAPTER SEVEN
Spending most of the day doing interviews without making a crack in a case didn't put Eve in the best of moods. Finding McNab packed and gone when she returned to her home office darkened her mood a bit more.
She considered it fortunate for his future well-being that he'd left her a memo, and a nibble.
"Lieutenant. Logged off at sixteen forty-five. List of names and products under case file, subhead E for Evidence Two-A. Couple of pops might interest you. I got hits on both Piper and Rudy on the smudger, another on Piper for the lip dye. By the way, the two of them are rolling in credits. Not that they'd give Roarke a run, but they aren't hurting. Interesting, too, all their assets are held jointly, down to the last penny. Report also in file."