H is for Homicide (Kinsey Millhone 8)

Dolan looked at Santos. "Tight. Half a day at best."

"What are you really asking me to do?"

"Three things. Find the leak. Find out where the files are, and find us proof that Raymond killed your buddy."

Santos chimed in again, the two of them working me like sheepdogs. "You just tell us what you need. We'll give you anything you want."

Dolan said, "The object is to get yourself recruited. You can take it from there, with or without Bibianna's cooperation."

I thought it over briefly, all the time wondering at the wisdom of my consenting. I could feel my mental processes kick in despite the lingering misgivings. "If you're talking about staged accidents… it seems like it'd be smart to have a dummy policy in the name of Hannah Moore."

"Could you arrange that through CF?" Dolan asked.

"I could, but it'd be better if it came from you. You'd have to clear it with Mac Voorhies and it'd probably still have to go through channels."

"The fewer people who know the better, and we have to work fast," Dolan said.

"Is that going to present a problem?" Santos asked me.

I said, "I think CF would be willing to cooperate."

"We'll ask you to wear a wire," Santos said. "We can get a tech here by nine this morning and get a unit on you then."

"Won't Raymond and his cronies search me?"

Santos said, "I doubt it, but if they do, we'll be in earshot, don't forget."

Dolan seemed to sense I wasn't comforted. "If you're wired, we can have a car full of plainclothes parked half a block away. We want you to have all the protection you can get. This may be the best opportunity we have to get at these folks and we don't want to blow it. Any questions?"

"I'm sure I'll think of some."

Santos said, "We'll have another chance to brief you. Right now, we're going to put you back in with Bibianna. Morning comes, we'll get the two of you bailed out. Take the credit yourself. It's good to have the woman in your debt. We'll delay your release until the wire tech comes in."

"Won't she be suspicious if she's out and I'm not?"

"I'm sure you'll find a way to cover," Dolan said dryly. "In the meantime, make arrangements to connect with her later in the day."

"What if Raymond shows up before then?"

"We'll think of something else. Oh, and while we're on the subject…" Dolan jotted down a special telephone number where he could be reached at any hour. I tucked the slip of paper in my sock. He glanced at his watch and then got up as a signal to end the meeting.

I got to my feet. Santos and I shook hands. "What time is it?" I asked.

"Two minutes after four."

"I'm too old to be up at this hour," I said, and then glanced at Dolan. "Can you do me a favor? I left my black leather jacket in the restaurant and my VW's still parked in the Meat Locker side lot. I probably can't get over there until this afternoon. Could you ask about the jacket and warn the meter maid? I don't want to get towed or ticketed."

"Will do. You don't want to screw around with those meter gals," Dolan said. He flashed a smile and then held out his hand to me. "Thanks."

"I haven't done anything yet."

The female corrections officer took me back to the drunk tank and locked me in. I felt nearly sick with fatigue, my brain buzzing from the coffee, body dragging from the lack of sleep. I moved over to my mattress and sank down gratefully, curling up on my side with my face turned toward the others. Bibianna was awake, her eyes pinned on me suspiciously. "Where have you been?"

"The homicide detective had some questions about the shooting."

"Has Dawna been picked up?"

"She's in the hospital at the moment with superficial injuries. Tale's here on the men's side. They're talking about charging him with murder, but I don't see how they can. Manslaughter's more like it."

"Bastards."

"He'll survive."

"Yeah, I suppose." Bibianna seemed on the verge of drifting back to sleep.

I hesitated briefly, then held my nose and plunged right in. "By the way, while I was out there I put a call through to my bail bondsman, who's posting bail for both of us. He'll be over here at eight."

Her eyes flew open. "You're bailing me out, too? Why would you do that? I don't have no kind of money like that. You're talkin' five hundred bucks!"