men, anyone who drives a truck. Check with the DMV as well, run down all truck owners on his list.'
The phone rang, and I snatched it up and slapped it to my ear.
'Daniels.'
'This is Detective Evens, Palatine PD. I hear you're picking through the Booster case.'
I ran it down for him, ending with the discovery of the prescription pad.
'I can't believe we missed it.'
'You weren't looking for it. Does the name mean anything to you?'
'Buddy? Nope. Can you fax it over, along with the prescription form? My cap's gonna rip me a new one for not finding this.'
'How many interviews did you do?'
'Over thirty. Friends, neighbors, relatives. Anyone who knew the guy since high school.'
'Any suspects?'
'You've got the report.'
'It doesn't list hunches. Any interview strike you as an oddball?'
'Half of his family were oddballs. But not in the murdering sense. Everyone liked the guy. We couldn't find a reason someone offed him.'
'I take it you'll be looking closer now.'
'Now that we know he died for a prescription? Hell yeah. Now I can start pulling in dealers, junkies, a whole slew of people.'
'We're looking for someone who owns or drives a truck. I could float some manpower your way, you need it.'
'Nope. This murder really pissed people off here. Palatine's a nice little town. We got more than enough guys who'd like to take another crack at this case.'
'Keep in touch, Evens.'
'Right back at you.'
I put the phone back in the cradle and sneezed. I fished out another of Herb's tissues. 'So let's check out the 7 -Eleven on Lincoln, see if they saw anything. Did you run into the Feebies at the lab?'
'Yeah. Thanks for sending them. I had to fake a case of diarrhea to get away from them and their nonstop monologues.'
'Did it work?'
'No. They followed me into the can.'
'Any prints on the candy?'
'None that we could find. But they're going to run some tests.'
'How's the mouth?'
'It hurts, but I've got my taste back. You up for a bite?'
'I've got more reports to go through, then I was going to call it a day.'
'Since I'm going out, I'll check the 7-Eleven on Lincoln. If memory serves, it's right next to a great Mexican place.'
Herb's stomach rumbled, seconding the motion.
'See you tomorrow, Herb.'
'Bye, Jack.'
Benedict left. I attacked the pile of paperwork in front of me, including typing up the results of our hospital visit and our trip to Melissa Booster's. This was the computer age, but I still used a standard electric typewriter, aware that fellow officers regarded me as a dinosaur in that aspect. Even if I did go high tech, I don't see what good a computer would do me. Ten words a minute is ten words a minute, no matter what I'm typing on.
When I was done I remained sitting there, staring at the page.
There wasn't anything else I could do at work, but I had no compelling reason to go home. I had no family there, no boyfriend waiting for me. It was just a place where I kept my meager possessions, ate, and tried in vain to rest.
'All I've got is you,' I told the report.
The report didn't answer.
I sighed, then got up and left, resigning myself to yet another sleepless night.
Chapter 12
HIS CELLMATE HAD SPOKEN OF THIS place, during the long, boring night hours when rambling was the only way to kill time.
'Just go to the bartender, bald guy named Floyd. Tell him you need a TV repaired.'
The Gingerbread Man had taken it with the same grain of salt he took all prison bullshitting. Besides, if he ever needed someone taken care of, he was more than happy to take care of them himself. If doing time taught him
