A black hole. His now. "You want me to look into it, I'll look into it," he offered reluctantly. "Unofficially."
"You know I can't do that, Daffy."
"Please."
"I'm not a rent-a-cop.
Neither are you. We're fifth floor. You know the way it works."
"Please!"
"I can't do that for very long," he qualified. "Thank you."
"If either of these kids die, Daffy-" He left it dangling there, like one of the many broken cobwebs suspended from the cement ceiling. "I know." She avoided his gaze. "You'll share everything with me. No stonewalling." "Agreed."
"Well ... maybe not everything," he corrected. It won a genuine smile from her-and he was glad for that-though it deserted her as quickly as it had come.
His frantic footfalls on the formed stairs sounded like the beating of bats' wings as he descended at a run.
The newspaper article had listed one of the hospitals. For Lou Boldt, the victim was where every investigation began.
