The Killing Dance - Laurell K. Hamilton [79]
“What do you want to hear, Dolph?” I asked.
“The truth would be nice,” he said.
“I think I need a lawyer first.” I wasn’t going to spill my guts just because Dolph was my friend. He was still a cop, and I had killed someone.
Dolph’s eyes narrowed. He turned to the uniform still leaning against the wall. “Rizzo, go get some coffee, black, for me. What do you want in yours?”
Coffee was coming. Things were looking up. “Two sugars, one cream.”
“Get some for yourself, Rizzo, and take your time.”
Officer Rizzo pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning. “You sure about this, Sergeant Storr?”
Dolph looked at him, just looked at him.
Rizzo held his hands out in a sort of push away gesture. “I don’t want Greeley riding my ass about leaving you two alone.”
“Get the coffee, Officer Rizzo. I’ll take any heat that comes down.”
Rizzo left, shaking his head, probably at the stupidity of plainclothes detectives. When we were alone, Dolph said, “Turn around.”
I stood up and offered him my hands. He uncuffed me, but didn’t pat me down again. He probably assumed Rizzo had done it. I didn’t tell him about the knife they missed, which would piss him off if he found it later, but hey, I couldn’t let the cops confiscate all my weapons. Besides, I didn’t want to be unarmed tonight.
I sat back down, resisting the urge to rub my wrists. I was heap-big-vampire-slayer. Nothing could hurt me. Yeah, right.
“Talk to me, Anita.”
“Off the record?” I asked.
He stared at me, eyes flat and unreadable, good cop eyes. “I should say no.”
“But,” I said.
“Off the record, tell me.”
I told him. I changed only one thing: that an anonymous call had alerted me to the contract on me. Other than that, it was the absolute truth. I thought Dolph would be happy, but he wasn’t.
“And you don’t know why someone would put a contract out on you?”
“For that kind of money, with a time limit on it, no.”
He stared at me, as if trying to decide how much truth I was telling him. “Why didn’t you tell us about the anonymous phone call earlier?” He put a lot of stress on the word anonymous.
I shrugged. “Habit, I guess.”
“No, you wanted to hotdog it. Instead of hiding out, you came here and played bait. If the hitter had used a bomb, you could have gotten a lot of people hurt.”
“But she didn’t use a bomb, did she.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said he was counting to ten.
“You got lucky,” he said.
“I know.”
Dolph stared at me. “She nearly did you.”
“If those women hadn’t come in when they did, I wouldn’t be talking to you now.”
“You don’t seem worried.”
“She’s dead. I’m not. What’s to worry about?”
“For that kind of money, Anita, there’ll be someone else tomorrow.”
“It’s after midnight, and I’m still alive. Maybe the contract will be canceled.”
“Why the time limit?”
I shook my head. “If I knew that, I might know who put the hit out on me.”
“And if you find out who put the money up, what will you do?” he asked.
I stared at him. Off the record or not, Dolph was still the ultimate cop. He took his job very seriously. “I’ll turn the name over to you.”
“I wish I believed that, Anita, I really do.”
I gave him my best wide-eyed, innocent look. “What do you mean?”
“Can the little girl routine, Anita. I know you too well.”
“Fine, but you and I both know that as long as the money is out there, hitters will keep coming. I’m good, Dolph, but no one’s that good. Eventually, I’ll lose. Unless the money goes away. No contract, no more hitters.”
We stared at each other. “We can put you in protective custody,” Dolph said.
“For how long? Forever?” I shook my head. “Besides, the next hitter might use a bomb. You want to risk your people? I don’t.”
“So you’ll hunt the money man down and kill him.”
“I didn’t say that, Dolph.”
“But that’s what you’re planning,” he said.
“Don’t keep asking the question, Dolph. The answer won’t change.”
He stood, hands gripping the back of the chair. “Don’t cross the line with me, Anita. We’re friends, but I’m a cop first.”
“I value our friendship, Dolph, but