I logged off and was still frowning at the screen when Franco yowled to tell me he hadn't been fed. I took him into the kitchen and fixed his dinner while Chooch and Delfina sat in the backyard. She was talking hard at him.
Alexa and I decided to take a walk around the neighborhood to avoid the fallout of what looked like the beginnings of a teenage quarrel. We strolled along the walkways that bordered the canal. The wedge-cut quarter moon hung low in the night sky. It lit the water and turned the mist-wet edges of the houses and garden gates silver. A late-feeding hell-diver took off out of the water, startling us. He beat his wings savagely, disappearing into the sky.
'I talked to Tony and Bill this afternoon,' Alexa said. 'Bill is going to free up your request with his people at CSI. They're going out to Hidden Ranch sometime tomorrow afternoon to look for the dog's remains and check on that basement bomb shelter.' She said it like she thought it was a complete waste of county time.
'I'm not scoring too many points in this family tonight, am I?' I said.
'It's just, you know how badly this is setting up. The sooner we clear it the better. I won't lie to you. I'm getting a lot of pressure, and I think checking Smiley's background and that house isn't going to get us anywhere, but I'm through arguing about it. It's your investigation, so it's your call.'
'In that case, can I get you to find out what's on this Web site?' I handed her a slip of paper with 'Cactus West MCAS Yuma TACTS' printed on it. 'It's some kind of Marine Corps secure site that Smiley hacked into. If we can't find out through the mayor's office, maybe the geeks in our computer division can see if they could hack into it.' She didn't say anything, but wrinkled her nose and put the slip in her pocket.
We walked over and stood on one of the arched bridges that spanned the main canal. I told Alexa that we had a partial print on the shell casing from the apartment, but that it was smudged, with maybe only four identifiers, and that tool marks would look for a match on striations after Sheriff Messenger had his SEB long rifles fired.
She nodded and we both looked across the water at our house. Delfina and Chooch were still sitting in the yard, heads together, talking earnestly.
'So, how's your new partner Joe Brickhouse?' Alexa finally asked, changing to a better subject.
'She's-different,' I said.
'She? Joe is a girl?'
'Not in the traditional sense.'
'Is she pretty?'
'Very. But she kills that impression effectively, because she's the most opinionated, in-your-face partner I think I've ever had. Present company excluded.'
'I don't like this. I know how drawn you are to strong women,' she teased.
'And she's gay,' I said. 'Apparently, I'm not the priceless piece of ass that's going to change that, either.'
'I feel better already,' Alexa said and held my hand.
'But you might qualify. She thinks you're 'a damn fine package,' or something to that effect. She's also a control freak. I'm biting my tongue trying to keep from tangling with her, but it may require more self-discipline than I possess.'
We stood quietly for a long moment. Suddenly a fish surfaced. It's tail slapped the water as it swam away. Both Alexa and I looked down at the spot below us, but our scaly eavesdropper was long gone.
'Look, Shane, this is what Sheriff Messenger wants, so having her for a partner is a small price to pay. If he can test fire his SEB long rifles and prove that the casing didn't come from any of their firearms, then we've gone a long way toward settling all this down.'
'Right,' I said. 'And if it did come from one of his long guns, then I have only one question.' 'What's that?'
'Who do I have to fuck to get off this damn case?' 'Me,' she said, then smiled sexily.
Chapter 22
It was finally cooling off in Los Angeles. By evening the temperature had begun to dip down into the fifties, but around midnight, with an abrupt barometric change, the hot Santa Ana winds had started up again, blowing out of the desert, flaring allergies and tempers. Alexa and I were both sprawled on top of the blankets as the pre-dawn temperature in our bedroom climbed into the mid-seventies. Alexa had been restless, constantly turning over, unable to sleep. The ringing phone brought me up out of a semiconscious steambath. I fumbled it off the hook and glanced at the bedside clock. A few minutes past three in the morning. Alexa said something unfriendly and turned over again as I pushed the receiver against my ear and muttered my name.
'Scully? We're on,' a female voice commanded. It took me a minute to get there, but then I realized it was Jo Brickhouse.
'It's three a. M.,' I snarled. But as consciousness returned I began to realize she probably wouldn't be calling at this hour unless it was pretty important.
Just then, Alexa's beeper went off and shot a bolt of adrenaline through me. Uh-oh. Something was definitely up.
Alexa grabbed her pager off the bedside table. 'Damn,' she said, reading the LCD screen, 'Tony.'
'What's going on, Jo?' I asked, pulling my head further out of the vat of oatmeal I keep it in when I sleep.
'Spotter on the SEB Gray team just ate a round. Guy's name is Michael Nightingale. Same basic deal. Vertical coffin-dead on the back porch. This should be our case, 'cause he's a sheriff, and there's a damn good chance now it's connected to the Rojas killing, but the way this is falling, who knows? The FBI could even claim it.
'Right. Title Eighteen. 'Unless the FBI's absence from the case materially effects the course of justice,' or something.'
'Get your ass out to two four six Sherman Way, Van Nuys. It's LAPD turf, so for now, we're up. Take the Cahuenga off-ramp, it's quicker. And let's see some smoke. I'm already rolling.'
'Right.' When I hung up Alexa was on the cordless phone with Tony and was walking into the bathroom, talking as she went. I scissor-kicked out of bed and followed her. As I walked in Alexa finished her call and pushed the hang-up button on the handset. She grabbed her hair brush, ran it through her hair once, then threw it on the counter. So much for grooming.
'Nightingale?' I asked.
'Yep. Michael. Spotter for his brother Gary on SEB.'
'I know.'
'Tony wants me downtown. Since Nightingale's a sheriff, he's got Bill Messenger on the way in. It's in our jurisdiction, so unless Messenger says otherwise, it's our one eighty-seven. Yours, Sergeant Brickhouse's, and Ruta's.'
I was already in my Jockeys. Alexa scooped up her panties and was hopping on one foot as she put them on. Then she grabbed her bra and headed into the bedroom. I skinned into a pair of dirty jeans I had thrown into the laundry hamper, stepped into some loafers-not bothering with socks-then went into the bedroom and threw on yesterday's shirt and jacket.
'Do I really have this, or am I gonna go out there, stand over a corpse, and wrestle with a buncha feds over whose case it is, like last time?'
Alexa had on a mismatched outfit. She was taking no care with her appearance, which was unusual. Suddenly, she stopped buttoning her blouse and turned to face me. 'Shane, I don't have to tell you, this is the worst thing that could have happened. Amps up everything. It's going to be a national news story now. No way to stop it. There'll be reporters hanging from the trees. Geraldo will be on the front lawn interviewing neighbors.'
'Look, Alexa… I-'
'No. Listen. If this is two SWAT teams going at it, we've got to stop it now. You've gotta find some physical
