‘Marijuana’s the most frequently used illegal drug in the United States.’
‘Tell us all about it, professor.’
‘Over eighty-three million Americans over the age of twelve have tried marijuana at least once.’
‘Including Alicia, huh?’
‘Big deal.’
‘She ever move on to the heavier shit?’
‘Not to my knowledge. Not while we were married, anyway.’
‘How about after you split?’ Genero said. ‘You sure she never went hardcore?’
‘Is that a trick question, Sherlock? I told you I never saw her after the divorce. Why? You think some dealer did her?’
‘We understand she was keeping bad company.’
‘Not on my watch.’
‘On your watch, all you did was blast a little stick every now and then, right?’
‘That’s not all we did.’
‘Just two happy airheads…”
‘Don’t put the marriage down,’ Dalton warned. ‘In many ways, it was a good one.’
‘In what ways was it a bad one?’
‘Why’d you get a divorce?’
Dalton hesitated.
‘So?’ Parker said.
‘She was running around on me.’
‘But that wasn’t bad company, right?’
‘It was the company she chose. That didn’t mean I had to go along with it.’
‘Where were you last Friday night at around eight o’clock, Al?’
‘Airtight,’ Dalton said.
‘Let’s hear it.’
‘I was driving a van to an Indian casino upstate.’
‘We suppose you have wit…’
‘Six of them. All high rollers. Check it out.’
* * * *
The waiter possessed the good grace not to card Reggie. Then he spoiled it by saying, ‘I’m assuming your daughter is twenty-one.’
‘Yes,’ Charles said.
The waiter nodded and padded off.
‘Did that bother you?’ she asked.
‘A little.’
‘When he comes back, I’ll kiss you on the mouth.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘You realize there are guys dying in Iraq who can’t order a drink in this state?’
‘It was that way when I was a kid, too. We used to bitch about it all the time. Being in the Army, not allowed to order a drink.’
‘What war was that?’
‘Vietnam.’
‘You were in that war?’
‘Oh yes.’
‘Wow,’ she said. ‘That seems so long ago.’
‘To me, too.’
‘Are you from here originally? I don’t mean
‘Yes.’
‘I was born and raised in Denver,’ she said.
‘I’ve always wanted to go out West.’
‘Maybe we can go out there together sometime,’ she said.
‘Well… maybe. Yes.’
‘Wouldn’t you like to?’
‘Here we go,’ the waiter said, and placed their drinks on the table. ‘Did you folks want to hear the specials now, or would you like to enjoy your drinks first?’
‘Give us a few minutes,’ he said.
‘Take your time,’ the waiter said, and went off again.
‘So you were in the Army, huh?’
‘Yes.’
‘See any action?’
‘Yes.’
‘When did you get out?’
‘1970.’
‘I wasn’t even born yet!’
‘Shh, he’ll hear you.’
‘Fuck him,’ she said. ‘I think I will kiss you on the mouth.’
And reached across the table, and cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him openmouthed, her tongue searching.
* * * *
All of Jenny Cho’s salons had the word ‘Blossom’ in their names. Plum Blossom - where the detectives were now headed - Peony Blossom, Pear Blossom, Cherry Blossom, Apricot Blossom, and the eponymous flagship establishment Jenny herself ran, Lotus Blossom. It would have been simpler to call each and every one of these places to ask questions about Alicia Hendricks. But Genero and Parker were still pursuing the ‘drug-related’ angle, and were trying to find out whether her supplier - if indeed such a supplier existed - might be someone she’d met at any of the regular stops on her schedule. Besides, you couldn’t gauge reaction on the telephone; that’s why legwork was invented. That’s why it took so much time to track down a person’s story. In police work, everyone had a story. Was Alicia’s story dope? Getting the story straight was often the answer to solving a crime.
The first thing the manager of Plum Blossom Nails said to Parker was, ‘Pedicue ten dollah ex’ra.’
He was pointing at Parker’s shoes.
The two detectives had barely set foot in the shop, guy tells Parker it’s ten dollars extra. He looked down at his feet.
‘I don’t want a pedicure,’ he said.
‘Manicue same price,’ the manager said. ‘Pedicue ten dollah ex’ra.’
‘I don’t want a manicure, either,’ Parker said. ‘Why is it ten dollars extra for a pedicure?’ He was thinking of busting this little bald-headed gook for price gouging or something.
‘You man,’ the manager said. ‘Big feet.’
‘But you save on nail polish,’ Parker said.
‘Big feet,’ the manager insisted, shaking his head. ‘Ten dollah ex’ra.’
‘That’s sexist,’ Genero said.
‘Exactly,’ Parker said. ‘If this was a man’s barbershop, and you charged a woman ten dollars extra for a pedicure, she’d take a feminist fit. Am I right, ladies?’ he asked, playing to the house now, hoping for a little female support here.
‘Right on, brother,’ one of the women shouted, and thrust her clenched fist at the air. The others kept reading their magazines.
‘I feel like getting a pedicure just for the hell of it,’ Parker said. ‘Make this a test case.’
‘Sure,’ the manager agreed. ‘But ten dollah ex’ra.’
‘You in charge here?’ Genero asked, and showed his shield.
