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She held up her badge.

He smiled at it for a while, then some level of its meaning eked through. “Aw, c’mon. Just getting my buzz on. Not hurting anybody, check?”

“Is that what you told the other two cops who came by today?”

“Didn’t see no cops but you. Just hitting the music and buzzing. Too hot for else.”

“You know Juicy?”

“Sure, man, he’ll tell you I’m no deal.”

“When did you see him last?”

“Dunno. It’s hot, man. Every day’s hot. All the same.”

“Yeah.” It was when you were in a permanent state of stupidity.

She heard approaching footsteps and turned to see a man coming down the hall, head down, fingers snapping. At the door across from Keener’s he pulled out a set of keys.

She stepped his way. He saw her, made her in the flash of an instant. And turned to run.

Perfect, she thought, and sprinted after him. “Police! Halt!” She judged the distance, bent her knees, and jumping up took him in a mid-body tackle.

“You think I want to chase you in this heat?”

“I didn’t do nothing.” He humped under her. “Get off me!”

“Why’d you run?”

“I ... forgot something.”

“Right. I’m going to let you up so we can have a civilized conversation. When I do, if you run, I’ll catch you—and I’m going to be really unhappy when I do. Understand?”

“Yeah, yeah. I didn’t do anything. Cops can’t just go knocking people down.”

“File a complaint.” She eased off, nodding as Peabody positioned herself to block the stairs. “Name?”

“Jubie, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Peabody, in a ball-breaking contest between me and Jubie the asshole, who’s your money on?”

“You, sir, but I’ve seen your work and the many broken balls resulting from it.”

“True. Where you been, Jubie?”

“Look, I just went out to pick up a pack of herbals.” He continued to aim for insulted as he shoved the hair out of his eyes, but nerves jittered through the corners. “Herbals are still legal in a guy’s own place.”

“Then you were in your own place earlier today.”

“Yeah, so what? What’s with you cops today, crawling all over the place. My lip’s bleeding.” He swiped the back of his hand over it. “I hit my lip when you knocked me down.”

“File another complaint. Tell me about the other cops.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, accenting his saggy little potbelly. “Don’t have to tell you dick.”

“Well, that’s true.” Eve offered an agreeable nod. “Just like I don’t have to tell you to assume the position so I can search you as I suspect you’re carrying illegal substances—since I can fucking see the bag sticking out of your pocket.”

He shoved at it hastily. “What bag?”

“Jubie, Jubie, let’s let bygones be. You tell me about the other cops, I walk away and you get to enjoy your herbals, since that’s what we’re calling them, in peace and privacy.”

His eyes narrowed, shifted. “How do I know you’re not doing some entrapment shit?”

“You watch too many cop shows. The cops, Jubie, where were they?”

He transferred his weight from foot to foot. “Okay, but if you screw with me, I know a lawyer.”

“God, that sure strikes fear in my heart. Did you hear that, Peabody, Jubie knows a lawyer.”

“I feel my feet trembling in my shoes.”

He scowled at both of them, but had to be considering pushing it and getting hauled in. “Couple of dudes, sharp suits. One’s a really big guy. They went in Juicy’s place. There.”

He pointed across the hall.

“Didn’t even bother to knock. Fucking cops. I heard them coming up the stairs, looked out the peep in case it was Juicy coming back.”

“Juicy usually supply you with the herbals?”

“Maybe. So I make them as cops, and they go right in. That’s a violation of civil rights.”

“Your knowledge of the law astounds and impresses. Describe them.”

“Like I said, one’s a big guy. Got blond hair. Other’s got dark hair. I didn’t take a freaking picture. Stayed in about a half hour maybe and came out all sweaty, looking pissed. That’s it.”

“Peabody, would you please show this gentleman a selection of freaking pictures since he didn’t take one.”

“Happy to.” Peabody pulled several copies of ID shots out of her bag, mixed Bix’s and Garnet’s with them. “If you’d take a look at this, Mr. Jubie, and let us know if you recognize any of these individuals.”

“Christ’s sake, don’t you cops know each other? Him. Him. Those are the ones broke in to Juicy’s place and violated his civil rights.”

“You’re sure?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

“When’s the last time you saw Juicy?”

“Couple days ago. Three, maybe. Who keeps track?”

“Okay. Thank you for your cooperation.”

Before she could change her mind, he jammed his key in the lock and did a fast turn into his flop.

“Got them,” Eve murmured. “One more stop. Pizza.”

“It’s rare for me to say, but I’m really not hungry. Between that flop and this heat, food holds no appeal.”

“We’re not eating. We’re going to visit the scene of Juicy’s last meal.”

“Oh. Listen, when we finish there, is it okay if I go to my place, grab a shower and change? Even before that fun-filled search in garbage hell I was feeling a little grungy.”

“Be at my home office by sixteen hundred—thirty sooner’s better.”

“No problem. And ...” Peabody pulled her sticky shirt away from her breasts. “I think everyone will thank you.”

True to form, the pizza joint was in Keener’s territory—and, in fact, between his hole and his flop.

“Did I say not the brightest bulb? This one was burned out for a while.”

Counters lined one wall and the box-sized window. A couple people enjoying a slice rolled eyes toward her, then hastily away. She could almost hear the relief slide out of them when she walked past.

“What’ll it be?” The woman behind the glass-fronted counter rolled her shoulders as if to dislodge an ache. She was black, with thin, tough-looking arms, her hair tied back in a blue kerchief and a single hoop piercing her left eyebrow.

“Questions.” Eve showed her badge.

“Look, I don’t want trouble so I stay out of it. I’m clean. I’ve got a kid at home, and I’ve got to work to pay the rent.”

“I’ve got no problems for you. Do you know Rickie Keener? Juicy?”

“Everybody knows Juicy.”

“Who was on the counter last night?”

“I was.” She glanced toward the back with a look of avid dislike. “Gee made me work the late shift, even though he knows I gotta get a sitter costs more than I make when it’s night work.”

“Was Juicy in?”

“Yeah, he came in. Got a whole damn pie—with sardines. That’s his usual—the topping, not the whole pie. Whole pie, couple of brews, so he had to be flush.” She pulled another kerchief out of her apron pocket, dabbed at her sweaty throat. “In a real good mood, too.”

“Is that so?”

“He tipped me. I get a tip about once every ten blue moons, but he laid a five on the counter, and says, ‘That’s for your own sweet self, Loo.’ Says how he’s settling his accounts, closing up shop, and going where there’s cool, sea breezes. Full of bull.”

Then she shrugged, stuffed the kerchief back in her pocket. “I guess you know what he does, but he was always polite to me. Always said thanks—and he never did business in here. I guess he’s in trouble.”

“He’s dead, Loo.”

“Oh.” Loo shook her head, cast her eyes down a moment. “I guess it’s hard to be surprised when somebody lives that life.”

“How about this guy?” She gestured for Peabody to show Bix’s shot.

“Haven’t seen him in here. He’d stick out, that’s for sure. Big, healthy white guy. Seen him somewhere, maybe. Maybe ... yeah, I think I saw him—somebody big and white anyway, hanging around down the block when I walked home.”