Pale Kings and Princes

27

When I came back from running the next morning, Lundquist’s cruiser was parked in the motel parking lot with the motor running. I walked over to it, breathing hard, feeling the sweat in the small of my back under the three layers of running gear that I wore to keep out the winter.

“Get in,” he said.

I sat in the passenger seat. The heater was running full and the car was warm.

“I’ve been reassigned,” Lundquist said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’re letting the local authorities handle this. We stand ready to provide support, but I’m more useful manning a radar trap on the Pike.”

“Where’d that come from,” I said.

Lundquist shook his head. “You got me,” he said. “I got it through the chain of command.”

“Somebody knows a state senator,” I said.

Lundquist said, “You’re on your own in this thing. I’ll do what I can unofficially, you know, but...” He shrugged.

“I’ll see what the Central Argus can do with this,” I said.

“Long as you didn’t get it from me,” Lundquist said. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I was you I’d try not to let the local cops get behind me.”

“I’m expecting some backup today,” I said.

“I hope it’s good,” Lundquist said.

“Gold medal in backup,” I said.

I got out of the car.

“You got anything firm and clear,” Lundquist said, “I’ll be happy to come and make an arrest.”

“I’ll let you know,” I said.

“Watch your ass,” Lundquist said.

I watched him pull away and then went into the motel.

The backup was there, sitting together at a table in the lounge drinking coffee. Susan’s thick dark hair, looking as if it smelled of jasmine, brushed the collar of a big-shouldered crimson leather coat. The frames of her wraparound sunglasses matched the coat. Beside her Hawk had his black lizard-skin cowboy boots cocked up on the chair next to him. He had on starched jeans and a white silk shirt and a black velvet jacket with the collar turned up. The black skin of his shaven head gleamed under the fake Tiffany lighting as if it had been oiled. A black leather storm coat with a lot of brass zippers hung on the back of the fourth chair.

“Clever disguise,” I said. “No one would ever guess you’re outsiders.”

Susan kissed me.

Hawk looked at my layered sweats. “Love yo’ outfit, honey,” he said.

I sat down and ordered decaffeinated coffee.

“Still quitting,” Susan said.

“Almost there,” I said.

“Um,” Susan said.

“Susan told me on the way out,” Hawk said, “how you been spreading your charm around town and now they ready to lynch your ass.”

“Charm can only carry you so far,” I said.

“I hear that,” Hawk said.

My coffee came. I added cream and sugar. Decaf goes down better with cream and sugar. I sipped a little.

“Yum,” I said. “Okay, I assume Suze told you everything that’s going on.”

“Probably a little more than that,” Hawk said.

“I’m a female Jewish shrink,” Susan said. “You expect long silences?”

“I thought shrinks cryptic,” Hawk said.

“Only with patients,” Susan said.

“The only thing I got to add is that there was a state trooper assigned to this thing,” I said, “a sharp kid named Lundquist, and somebody got him reassigned.”

“So there’s folks connected,” Hawk said.

I shrugged. “Cocaine,” I said. Hawk nodded.

“Esteva?” Susan said.

“Maybe,” I said. “Maybe the cops.”

“The Wheaton cops?” Susan said.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe Esteva who the Wheaton cops connected to,” Hawk said.

“Maybe,” I said, “at one end.”

“Till we know,” Hawk said, “probably not a swell idea to call them for help.”

“True,” I said.

“So we’re on our own out here,” Susan said.

“Yes,” I said.

“Don’t suppose you want to just dust Esteva and go on home,” Hawk said.

“We don’t know if he did anything,” I said.

“Done something,” Hawk said. “We know he running coke.”

“But you can’t prove it,” Susan said.

Hawk smiled his warm meaningless smile.

“Proving don’t matter to me, Susan. Knowing’s enough.”

“I want it all,” I said.

“You always do,” Hawk said. “How about this lady?”

“Caroline Rogers?”

“Yeah, we gonna save her too?”

“Yes.”

Hawk’s smile got wider.

“Thought we probably would,” he said.