Yet she kept at the riddle, around and around, trying to solve the unsolvable. I had to admire her for it.
Deluski jumped up. “I got it!” He held out the phone for me.
“Got what?”
His grin was huge. Didn’t know the guy had that many teeth. “The lizard the killer turned into. I found it.”
I wasn’t in the mood. “Not this again.”
He put the phone in my face. “Fucking look at it already!”
I took the phone, studied the lizard’s pic. Charcoal skin. Red stripes. Wide mouth. “Could be.” I made to hand the phone back.
“Read the description, the part I marked.”
Christ. I held it so Maggie could see and navigated into the text, skipped over the species name-some kind of Latin shit-my eyes pausing on the common name: stripe-faced man-eater. I read the portion he’d highlighted, the text focusing on the lizard’s sexual habits. I took the information in, my smirk fading, my back straightening.
I soaked it up, let it mingle with the case facts, images gaining clarity. I read it a second time, read how the female attracts the male with those red stripes, stripes that get thicker and brighter during mating season. How the male stands on its hind legs, making himself look big, making himself look like good genetic stock. How they mate, the male inserting his genitalia, the female’s vagina closing around it, a vagina made of a bonelike material that pinches down until it severs the male genitalia. Severs it in its entirety. Only then, after the genitals are severed do the muscles relax to release his seed.
Holy shit.
Maggie pulled the phone from my fingers to read it again. “Oh my God.”
Deluski sat back down. “I told you I’d find it.”
Maggie had her face practically pressed into the display. “That steel trap thing he snapped onto your hand. You think the doctor installed another one inside him?”
Josephs perked up. “Inside where? What are you humps talking about?”
Franz Samusaka, Wu, and Froelich all had their dicks chopped.
“Somebody gonna answer me?”
Chopped during mating. Holy fuck.
I rolled over. Again. I scratched my ankles, my neck, my ears. Damn bugs chewed the hell out of me.
I couldn’t sleep. Again. Bad thoughts always came at night. Gave me a good reminder why I usually drank myself to sleep. Niki. How could she do that to me? I loved her. I trusted her.
The love was real. But I knew now the trust was an illusion. Our curse was too many secrets. Secrets that separated us like walls of glass that were so crystal clear that we could fool ourselves into believing we were in the same room all along.
I heard the now familiar sound of high heels clopping down the hall, heard the curtain slide open. Heard it close again. The sheet moved, somebody slipping under, a wave of perfume leaving no doubt who. She curled up next to me, warm skin pressed into my back, an arm worming its way under what was left of my right arm, sliding up my stomach, hand settling on my chest.
I looked at the window. Dark as ever. “What time is it?”
“Morning.”
I scratched my ear, the back of my neck.
“You okay?”
“Got eaten up last night.”
“Yepala?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“More.” I rolled over to face her. “Found too much. Listen to me, do not bring your sister to the offworld doctor.”
Her hand pulled away. “You can’t tell me what to do.”
“He’s a monster.”
“I’m not going to work for Chicho the rest of my life. And neither will my sister. We’re going to start our own house, and the doctor is our ticket to better days.”
I couldn’t let her do it. I made the decision right then. Had to blurt it out quickly before I went back on it. “Take my business.”
“What?”
“The protection racket. Take it.”
She sat up. “Is this a joke?”
“Tell your sister to quit, and the two of you run the business.”
She flicked on the light. I squinted at the brightness, her image a blur of hair and rouge and lipstick. “I can’t run a protection racket.”
“Why not?”
“Women don’t run protection rackets.”
“They’re not bouncers either.”
“You think I can face down Captain Mota?”
“I’ll take care of him.”
“What about the next Captain Mota? If KOP or a street gang wants to move in, how am I going to stop them? Sic my fifteen-year-old sister on them?”
“Throw my name at them. You need me to show up, I’ll show up, flex my muscles, but the business is yours. You run it. You keep the money.”
The corners of her heavily painted lips lifted, the beginnings of a smile. “You serious?”
I went to the gate and rang the bell.
“Yes?” came a voice from a speaker.
“I’m here to talk to Hudson Samusaka.”
“That won’t be possible, sir. Your face is on file, and it’s on our no-entry list.”
I sneered into the lens. “He’ll see me. You tell him I had a nice talk with his son Ang. Couldn’t shut the kid up.”
No response. Good. Meant he was checking with his boss. I leaned against the gate and waited.
Worked better than a fucking key. The gate buzzed, the voice telling me Miss Paulina would meet me at the door. Samusaka had to find out what I knew.
I pushed through. My eyes took in the well-lit grounds. The walkways branched and merged into a meandering network of stone paths. Manicured hedges and fountains; stone walls and wrought iron railings; the air scented by flowers. I headed for the main house, my shoes clacking on stone.
The door was open, Miss Paulina standing guard, arms crossed over a blue dress, eyes staring down the length of her nose. “You again?”
I came up the steps. “Where is he?”
“In the study.” She held out a hand like an usher.
“I know the way.” I breezed past her into the foyer, got a few steps down the hall before turning back to face her. “I’ll take a brandy. Make it a twenty-year.” I was off before she could respond. Might as well act the part from the get-go.
I moved down the hall, then through the study’s entrance. He sat at the desk, white dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up, eyes sharp like monitor claws. I strode to the desk and took the seat across from him. Opened with a bluff. “You’ve been a naughty boy.”
He bared teeth. “What did my son tell you?”
“Everything.” My face was straight like a piece of rebar. Time to beat him with it. “Kid found your dirty little secret right here in this study. He ransacked this room until he found it, then made it look like somebody broke in. Kid’s been naming his own allowance ever since.”
Color leaked from his cheeks and pooled into a flushing triangle between his collar points and under his Adam’s apple. “What do you want?”
Gotcha, asshole. “Truth.”
“Or else?”
“Or your dirty secret doesn’t stay secret.”
His shoulders rode high, like every muscle in his body was tensed. “You want money?”
I shook my head. “I want answers.”
He threw up his hands. “Ask your damn questions.” Bluffed into folding. Game over.
I kept signs of victory off my rebar face. “You know your eldest son was murdered, don’t you?”
He stayed silent, giving me a big spoonful of that hostile glare. I knew his type. Controlling. Domineering. I knew how he’d treated his wife the last time I was here, making her stand a step behind him. Prick was used to treating people like property.
A knock came on the door. Miss Paulina entered, brandy snifter in hand. She carried the glass to me and silently hurried out.
I sucked in a sip, swished it around in my mouth, tongue wrapped in flavor and the tingle of alcohol. I swallowed it down and set the glass on his desk. One sip was enough. Gave me a perverse satisfaction to know the busybody housekeeper would have to pour the rest down the drain.