"Hmm. Let me guess-"

"Don't bother. I called up the personnel office of the Fairfax Police Department. I also called Montgomery County PD. And neither of them ever heard of North and Adams. Said those guys never even filed applications."

"Oh, jeeze." Mullins sat down himself then, behind his desk. His belly stretched his police shirt to its absolute physical limit.

"How come you lied to me, boss?"

Mullins chewed on the accusation. "I wouldn't exactly call it lying. Let's just call it-"

"What? A tactical circ.u.mvention of facts?"

"Well, yeah. That sounds good. I kinda like it. A tactical circ.u.mvention of facts. You got yourself a dandy vocabulary, Phil."

"f.u.c.k my vocabulary," Phil said. "How come you told me North and Adams left for better-paying departments?"

Mullins gusted a big sigh. "'Cos I needed ya, Phil. This PCP s.h.i.t is turning the whole town to garbage, and it's makin' me look like the garbage man. You might not've taken the job if I told you up front why North and Adams left."

"So tell me now. What happened to them? Are they dead?"

"Dead?" Mullins gaped. "No, they ain't dead, but they sure as s.h.i.t ain't here. Things started to get too hot, so they both threw in the towel. Turned in their badges and boogied."

Phil smirked plainly. "Come on, Chief. The whole story."

"All right. North and Adams were working on the PCP thing for a couple months. Then they got a lead on Natter's lab, so the three of us checked it out one night. We was told he had the works back up in the hills past Hockley's."

"Who told you that?"

"Let's just say an anonymous tip."

"Okay. What happened?"

Mullins suddenly flinched, as if at a bad memory. "What happened was we nearly got ourselves killed. The whole thing was a set-up. There must've been two dozen of those f.u.c.kers waitin' for us, a f.u.c.kin' army of 'em."

Phil didn't quite get it. "An army of who?"

"Of Creekers. And they were all packing rifles and shotguns. We walked right into Natter's ambush. I got myself an a.s.sful of 16-gauge buck. Wanna see the scars?"

"I'll pa.s.s," Phil said.

"Adams took a .308 in the upper leg, shattered his thigh bone. The bullet fragged and tore the living s.h.i.t out of his knee, poor b.a.s.t.a.r.d'll never walk right again. And North got nicked in the ear. Another two inches, and he would've got his head blowed off. By the time we got out of there, the patrol car was so full of holes it wasn't even fit for the demolition derby."

Phil leaned back in his chair, a.s.sessing his boss. Mullins had broken out in a light sweat, and when he took another sip of coffee, his big, fat hand was noticeably shaking.

"So North and Adams freaked?"

"That's right," Mullins said. "Said they couldn't hack it no more, and I can't say I blame 'em. North quit right away. And Adams quit the day he got out of his cast. Had to pay the f.u.c.ker ten weeks of workman's comp."

Phil folded his arms. "That's funny, Chief. I heard that neither of these guys quit. I heard they disappeared and were never seen again."

Mullins' lips puckered as if he'd just sucked a lemon. "You seem to be hearing a lot these days, and I think I know who you're hearing it from. Don't let Vicki Steele make a horse's a.s.s out of ya, Phil."

"s.h.i.t, Chief. You haven't leveled with me. Give me one reason why I shouldn't believe her."

"I'll give you a bunch," Mullins replied. "She's a s.e.xfreak, a stripper, a dopehead, and a wh.o.r.e. Plus she's Natter's wife." Mullins hocked his chaw into the wastebasket, then loaded up another. "North is walking a mail route in Bowie, Maryland-after he took fire, he said he never wanted to be a cop again. Adams and his brother got a small-business loan and bought a liquor store in Whitehall. If ya think I'm bulls.h.i.tting ya, then go right ahead and look up their names in my Rolodex and give 'em a call."

Skip it,Phil thought. Mullins was coming clean now. But there was one more thing...

"All right, so you pulled my leg about what happened-"

"Naw," Mullins interrupted. "I made a tactical circ.u.mvention of facts."

"Fine. But why?"

"I told ya. I was afraid you wouldn't take the job if I gave the full scoop right away. I was fixin' to tell ya; I was gonna tell ya this week as a matter of fact. Figured you'd be agreeable once you got on the case awhile."

"That's pretty s.h.i.tty, isn't it?"

"Well, sure," Mullins admitted. "But face it, Phil. Once a cop, always a cop. This case was cut out for you; I just wanted to give you some time to ease into it. You'd have taken the job anyway, right?"

Phil didn't answer, but he knew the chief was right. He knows me better than I thought. "One more thing," he said.

"Let me guess. Your ex-sweetheart blabbed s.h.i.t about North and Adams. Stands to reason she'd blab more s.h.i.t to boot. The bodies?"

"Yeah, Chief. The bodies. Vicki said there were over a dozen, all with their skin cut off like Rhodes."

A wave of Mullins' hand dismissed these mere details. "It wasn't no dozen, s.h.i.t-maybe seven or eight, and yeah, they were all done up like Rhodes pretty much. All dust cowboys from out of Crick City. I figure Natter's got his Creekers. .h.i.tting anyone who tries to compete with his own operation."

"That's what it sounds like to me, but that's also beside the point," Phil posed. "It would've been helpful for me to know about these murders before you sent me out on an undercover investigation, don't you think?"

Mullins shrugged. "Keep your shirt on. I was gonna tell ya all about that too, just like I was gonna tell ya about North and Adams. But I thought it best-"

"To give me some time to ease into things."

"Right."

By now Phil's frown seemed like a permanent fixture on his face.

Mullins spat again, sipped more coffee, and scratched his belly. "That night we got shot up, that was because none of us knew what the h.e.l.l we were doin'. North and Adams, sure, they were decent cops, but they were town cops, Phil. They didn't have the know-how to get on with a serious dope and murder investigation, and neither do I. But you do know what you're doin'. You're an expert at this kind of job; Christ, that's all you did out on Metro. If I'd thought for a minute that you weren't experienced enough to hack the heat on a case this hot, then I never would've rescued you from that brain-dead goin'-nowhere yarn factory you were rotting in uptown. I gave you a chance because I figured you deserved it. Not many chiefs would" -Mullins paused to stretch- "considerin' the s.h.i.t on your record at Metro."

This little reminder took some of the punch out of Phil's petulance. The chief had a point; Phil knew dope networks like the back of his hand, and he knew what to expect. But Mullins? And hicks like Adams and North? No wonder they almost lost their a.s.ses. Those guys don't know PCP from a PCV valve.

And another consideration began to smolder. Who am I to get p.i.s.sed off at him for not exactly following protocol?Last night relit in his mind: Vicki.

They'd made love in his car for over an hour.

I haven't exactly been following protocol either, he had no choice but to remind himself.

"So let's get it all right out on the table," Mullins began again. "Without you on this case, it won't be long before the whole county knows about it, the papers, the news shows. Sure, I got a vested interest, I ain't sayin' I don't. My f.u.c.kin' job, you know. Natter and his Creekers are turning Crick City into a pile of s.h.i.t, and I'll be the one goin' right down the c.r.a.pper with it. But it ain't just the job-this p.i.s.sant, redneck burg is my home and it's yours, too, whether ya like it or not. You don't owe me nothin', and I don't expect you to stick your neck out to save my job as chief. But, s.h.i.t, Phil, you must care a little about what Natter's doing out there. He's getting kids turned onto his s.h.i.t, nippin' 'em in the bud before they even get half a decent chance at life."

"I was a narc lieutenant for several years, Chief," Phil refreshed the big man's memory. "I know what dope does to kids."

Mullins spat another streamer. "And don't forget about what Natter did to your ex."

Another reminder.

Phil hitched uneasily in his seat.

"So like I was sayin', if you feel I done you wrong, then I apolergize. And if you wanna turn in your badge right now and tell me to get stuffed, then I'll understand. s.h.i.t, I guess I'd deserve it. Sure, it might get real hot out there on a case like this, but you knew that from the start. I wasn't stonewallin' ya, Phil. I just didn't want to hit you up with too much at once, that's all."

"Relax, boss. I'm not going to turn in my badge. Just try to keep me a little more informed in the future."

"'Course I will." Mullins rubbed his hands together. "So are we friends again?"

"Sure, Chief.

"Good. Now tell me what'cha dug up at Krazy Sallee's last night."

"I hung out with Eagle Peters-"

"Your buddy with the rap sheet full of angel dust?"

"Yeah, but I didn't push him for anything. It's too early for that just yet. I have to pin the guy's confidence before I can expect him to trust me. And, yes, I ran into Vicki last night, too," Boy, did I run into her, he thought "I figure if I get in good with both of them, they'll spread the word that I'm cool. Then I'll be able to get closer to Natter's net. I've got Vicki thinking I'm a dust-head, and Peters probably reads me as a kink."

"A kink?" Mullins asked. "Why's that?"

Phil's stomach gave a minor quake at the memory. "Natter's got a back room open at the joint. They only let certain people in."

Mullins made a face. "A backroom? What's he got going back there? Blackjack, c.r.a.ps?"

"Nope, that's what I thought it must be at first. But then Eagle got me in; he's a trusted regular. It's another dance stage back there. They got Creeker girls tricking."

Mullins nearly expectorated coffee and tobacco simultaneously. "You're pullin' my leg, right?"

"Wish I was, Chief. It was pretty gross, but I played along like I was into it."

"Smart move." Mullins wiped brown juice from his lips with a napkin. "Only whackos would want to see that kind of s.h.i.t, and I'll bet half of them are Natter's distributors."

"That's what I'm betting, too," Phil said. "I'm gonna try to get into there whenever I can, and try to cross-reference the regulars with my parking lot photos. I should be able to link some of them to their vehicles, then I can run their tags with MVA, get their names, and run rap checks from there. That way we'll know who to keep a special eye on. Plus I'll be keeping my ears open for anything I might pick up along the way."

Mullins nodded. "All right, sounds like you're on the mark. Keep it up, and for Christ's sake be careful."

Phil stood up, got ready to leave, "Don't worry about me, boss. I may be dumb, but I ain't stupid."

"Yeah?" Mullins said, giving him the eye. "Hobn.o.bbing with Vicki Steele sounds pretty stupid to me."

The comment held Phil in a momentary check. He's just guessing, there's no way he could know about what went on with me and Vicki last night. Absolutely no way. "Fishing season's over, Chief. What makes you think I'm hobn.o.bbing with her?"

"Couple things," Mullins came back. "One, there's a saying-old love dies hard-"

"Gimme a break, Chief," Phil complained. "That ended ten years ago."

"Two," Mullins ignored him, "since she got hitched to Natter, she's turned into a right cunning little b.i.t.c.h, and a pushover like you? You'd be putty in her hands."

Phil rolled his eyes and groaned.

"And, three. If that ain't her lipstick on your blamed neck, then whose is it? Eagle f.u.c.kin' Peters'?"

Phil's eyes widened. He's bulls.h.i.tting, he convinced himself until he ran a hand across his neck.

Aw, no. Aw s.h.i.t, he thought next.

His fingers came away red- "So let me tell ya somethin', Phil," Mullins got back into it like a surrogate father. "You ain't the first guy in the world to get teased by a woman, and you sure as s.h.i.t ain't the first to get teased by her. That's a rough crowd she runs with-they're killers. And the last thing I need is for you to start d.i.c.king her and getting yourself all tangled up again. It's human nature, sure-men think with their p.e.c.k.e.rs instead of their brains. But I hope you're too smart to fall for her tricks."

There was nothing Phil could say to justify last night's accident. I f.u.c.ked up, he admitted. But how could Mullins be so self-a.s.sured? "All right, Chief, you got me. I made an error in judgment."

"An error in judgment?" Mullins blurted a stuffed-mouth laugh. "You stepped on your ever-livin' d.i.c.k is what ya did. You must've whizzed your common sense out the last time you took a p.i.s.s. Don't do it again. That b.i.t.c.h'll make mincemeat out of ya. She'll have ya like a regular fool, and you'll wind up blowing your cover and maybe getting your a.s.s killed." Mullins aimed his big finger like a pointing stick. "Use your head, Phil. Keep out of that wh.o.r.e's panties, or she'll wind up hangin' you with 'em."

"Chief," Phil had to object. "You've got her sounding like Lucretia Borgia. What makes you so sure she's so dangerous, huh? Tell me that."

"I will, smart boy." Mullins' heavy face darkened; again he looked like he'd sucked something intensely sour. "That night I was tellin' you about, when we got that tip on Natter's lab and wound up nearly getting blown away by a whole h.e.l.luva lot of Creekers?"

"The night you, North, and Adams got set up," Phil remembered. "What about it?"

Mullins' small, hooded eyes glared in the recollection.

"It was Vicki Steele who gave us that tip," he said.

"Nice car, huh?" Phil joked, and opened the Malibu's pa.s.senger door for Susan. Untold junk cluttered the back seat, cracks webbed the upholstery, and the paint job looked flat as dried mud. I should've at least cleaned out the back, he complained to himself. She'll think I'm a slob.

"You're a slob, Phil," she said. "But don't take that as a criticism."

Phil started it up and gunned the old engine. "Never judge a man by his car. The Ferrari's in the shop for a tune-up; otherwise, we'd be going out in that."

"The Ferrari, huh?" Susan smiled at him. "I guess your razor's in the shop too, right?"

"Hey," Phil remarked of the several days' stubble on his face, "you think I like to look this ratty? Working a dangerous undercover operation, it's my professional duty to look as sc.u.mmy as possible. And let me tell ya, that ain't easy when you're as handsome as I am."

"Your diligence is outweighed only by your amazing modesty," Susan replied, cranking the window down. "I do have to admit, though, you are the best-looking redneck sc.u.mbag I've seen in a while."

"I'm touched by the compliment." Phil pulled out of Old Lady Crane's front drive and headed down the Route. "So now that I've finally got you out on a date, I have one very important question."

"What's that?"

"Where are we going?"

"Hey, you're the one who asked me out, remember? It's your job to make the evening's agenda."