Baltimore to notify in case of emergency." "I think this qualifies," Nasty Cop said. "Did you call her?"
"Several times. No answer. No machine."
"Just as well," Terry said. "We'll call her."
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I know a little about body language, and her breathing told me that she was about to say something she knew we wouldn't like.
The Rabbit Factory
"It's important that we keep this crime from being blown out of proportion in the press," she said. "It would be good if we could keep it out of the press entirely." Thank you, Sheriff Daves. Underneath those 38s, Amy Cheever's corporate heart was definitely in the right place. Let's all sweep it under the rug. "We can't control the press," I said with a Friendly Cop smile.
"I understand," she said. "That's my job. I went to business school. They taught me how to handle the harsh realities of a bad situation." "Did they teach you how to handle the harsh reality of a homicide?" It was Biggs. He seemed to really enjoy sparring with her. "Listen," she said, without a hint of Cop Respect in her tone. "Half of our business is aimed at children under twelve. If Mr. Elkins had been a third-grade teacher, and he were murdered in a gay bar, I'm sure the police would cooperate in trying to protect the children from the details. All I'm asking is that you treat this case with the same discretion. We really do care about the children." Terry and I both nodded to communicate that we understood, but that was all the commitment we would give her. I "Thank you very much," she said. I wondered how she'd spin this conversation to her boss. Something like, 'I spoke to LAPD, sir. They promised to take a vow of silence.' Terry spoke. "If it's not too much trouble, ma'am, we'd like to see the dead body now."
"Your forensic people are on the scene. I'll take you there."
Our forensic people? On the scene? Everybody loves cop speak.
Amy did an about-face and headed for the elevator. Terry threw me one of those quick Man Looks to let me know that Amy Cheever also had a fabulous ass. I threw him back the Man Look that says, "What am I, Mr. Magoo?" We fell in behind her. I had the distinct sense that she was enjoying the fact that we were enjoying her ass. All in all, I thought we were off to a pretty good start.
CHAPTER 6
Terry and I stepped to the back of the elevator. Amy stood in front. I inhaled deeply to get a better take on her perfume. This was not official police work. In fact it wasn't work at all. She smelled fantastic. Not your typical office fragrance. More bedroom than boardroom.
There were no buttons to push. Just a panel with a series of locks, each one marked with the corresponding floor. I gawked at Amy as she inserted a chrome key into the fourth lock from the top. The light next to it went from red to green. Then before the doors could close, one more passenger jumped aboard. Surprise, surprise, it was the little voice that lives inside my head. "And what do we have here?" it said. "Is this Detective Lomax fantasizing about a principal in a homicide case? How quickly one forgets the letter from one's wife, who is lying in the ground these six short months."
I've accepted the fact that I can't hold onto my own life. I just can't let go of being part of yours.
I thanked the voice for stopping by and looked away from Amy's seductive butt and down at my loafers. I also began to
1
breathe through my mouth, but the scent of Amy still hung in the air. I took one last gawk to see if I could make out a panty line. Nothing visible. Civilians have no idea what goes on inside a cop's head when he's working the job.
The elevator took us four floors down. D Level. The doors opened, and we got our first look at The Rabbit Hole. It was hardly a hole. It was wide and spacious and well lit. It reminded me of the American Airlines terminal at LAX.
We hopped on a golf cart and headed down a corridor that was not quite as wide as the Ventura Freeway. Amy was our
"Several times. No answer. No machine."
"Just as well," Terry said. "We'll call her."
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I know a little about body language, and her breathing told me that she was about to say something she knew we wouldn't like.
The Rabbit Factory
"It's important that we keep this crime from being blown out of proportion in the press," she said. "It would be good if we could keep it out of the press entirely." Thank you, Sheriff Daves. Underneath those 38s, Amy Cheever's corporate heart was definitely in the right place. Let's all sweep it under the rug. "We can't control the press," I said with a Friendly Cop smile.
"I understand," she said. "That's my job. I went to business school. They taught me how to handle the harsh realities of a bad situation." "Did they teach you how to handle the harsh reality of a homicide?" It was Biggs. He seemed to really enjoy sparring with her. "Listen," she said, without a hint of Cop Respect in her tone. "Half of our business is aimed at children under twelve. If Mr. Elkins had been a third-grade teacher, and he were murdered in a gay bar, I'm sure the police would cooperate in trying to protect the children from the details. All I'm asking is that you treat this case with the same discretion. We really do care about the children." Terry and I both nodded to communicate that we understood, but that was all the commitment we would give her. I "Thank you very much," she said. I wondered how she'd spin this conversation to her boss. Something like, 'I spoke to LAPD, sir. They promised to take a vow of silence.' Terry spoke. "If it's not too much trouble, ma'am, we'd like to see the dead body now."
"Your forensic people are on the scene. I'll take you there."
Our forensic people? On the scene? Everybody loves cop speak.
Amy did an about-face and headed for the elevator. Terry threw me one of those quick Man Looks to let me know that Amy Cheever also had a fabulous ass. I threw him back the Man Look that says, "What am I, Mr. Magoo?" We fell in behind her. I had the distinct sense that she was enjoying the fact that we were enjoying her ass. All in all, I thought we were off to a pretty good start.
CHAPTER 6
Terry and I stepped to the back of the elevator. Amy stood in front. I inhaled deeply to get a better take on her perfume. This was not official police work. In fact it wasn't work at all. She smelled fantastic. Not your typical office fragrance. More bedroom than boardroom.
There were no buttons to push. Just a panel with a series of locks, each one marked with the corresponding floor. I gawked at Amy as she inserted a chrome key into the fourth lock from the top. The light next to it went from red to green. Then before the doors could close, one more passenger jumped aboard. Surprise, surprise, it was the little voice that lives inside my head. "And what do we have here?" it said. "Is this Detective Lomax fantasizing about a principal in a homicide case? How quickly one forgets the letter from one's wife, who is lying in the ground these six short months."
I've accepted the fact that I can't hold onto my own life. I just can't let go of being part of yours.
I thanked the voice for stopping by and looked away from Amy's seductive butt and down at my loafers. I also began to
1
breathe through my mouth, but the scent of Amy still hung in the air. I took one last gawk to see if I could make out a panty line. Nothing visible. Civilians have no idea what goes on inside a cop's head when he's working the job.
The elevator took us four floors down. D Level. The doors opened, and we got our first look at The Rabbit Hole. It was hardly a hole. It was wide and spacious and well lit. It reminded me of the American Airlines terminal at LAX.
We hopped on a golf cart and headed down a corridor that was not quite as wide as the Ventura Freeway. Amy was our
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