“Shaw’s pretty recognizable,” Simpson said. “Even if he gave a false name and paid cash.”
“So what would you do about that?” Jesse said. “If you were him?”
“Disguise?”
Jesse smiled.
“Ask if they remember a guy with a fake nose and glasses,” he said.
“Really?”
“Suit, I’m kidding you. Be easier if he had the girl register.”
“And if he was real careful,” Simpson said, “he’d have her register at one of those places where you can park right in front of the door and go in your room once you got a key.”
“Maybe you should start with that kind of motel, close to Paradise, and then circle out. Get a picture of Shaw. And take one of Billie. Show both of them.”
“You’re pulling me off shift again?”
“Special assignment,” Jesse said.
“Guys are getting kind of annoyed,” Simpson said, “covering for me.”
“Un-huh.”
“We don’t even know if Shaw’s got anything to do with it,” Simpson said.
“That’s true.”
“There’s a thousand motels around here.”
“Un-huh.”
“Jeez, on those TV real-life cop shows they don’t do this. They got all kinds of guys with microscopes and computers figuring shit out.”
“We’re a small department,” Jesse said. “We can’t afford smart people.”
“This could be a total waste of time,” Simpson said.
“Ah,” Jesse said, “you are beginning to understand the intricacies of police work.”
Chapter Fifty-one
“You wanted to drink,” Dix said.
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Why’d you want to?”
Jesse shrugged. It never occurred to him to ask why he wanted a drink. Wanting a drink was part of existence. It didn’t have a why.
“Did you want one at 2:35 that afternoon?”
“I’m not that far gone,” Jesse said.
“I’ll take that to mean no,” Dix said. “So why did you want one at seven o’clock that evening?”
“What difference does it make?” Jesse said.
“None,” Dix said, “to me.”
They were silent.
“It was, you know, you used to be a drinker,” Jesse said. “It was the end of the day and the harbor was quiet, and we were sitting together on the deck, and later we’d have sex. I mean it was all ahead of us.”
“The romance of booze,” Dix said.
Jesse thought about that. “Miller time,” he said.
“Soft light touching on crystal stemware, bright liquid, clean white shirt, shimmering gown, alto sax, here’s looking at you, kid.”
“You think that makes me drink?”
“No. But it helps make you want to.”
“But I didn’t give in this time.”
“No,” Dix said. “You didn’t.”
“Kind of late,” Jesse said.
Dix waited.
“Now I’m saying no,” Jesse said. “Now that it’s cost me my job and my marriage.”
“But you have a new job,” Dix said.
