"And if she'd been your niece?"

Quinn gave her a warning look and spoke again to the bartender.

"Did you see the driver?"

"Didn't look. I just thought, man, what about his sorry a.s.s, picking upa kid like that. The world's a cold, sick place-you know what I'msaying?"

"Yeah," Kate muttered, picking up the snapshot of Angie from the bar,looking at the pretty, exotic face, the frowning mouth, the angry eyesthat had seen too much. "I know exactly what you're saying."

She put the photo back in her purse, tossed a buck on the bar for thecoffee she hadn't touched, and walked out. The snow had started influrries, the clouds sending down a handful at a time on gusts of coldwind. The street was deserted, the sidewalks empty, the dingystorefronts dark except for the bail-bonds place across the street.

She leaned back against the building and wished the wind would blow awaythe feelings that were stacking up inside her. They'd about reached theback of her throat and she couldn't even begin to swallow them down.

She knew too much about the world to let its injustices and crueltiesget to her too easily. Of course a bartender in a pool hall on LakeStreet wouldn't be overly concerned about the life of a hooker, young ornot. He saw it every day and never looked too closely. He had his ownlife to worry about.

It hit Kate hard only because she knew the next chapter to the story.

The ride that had taken Angie Dimarco away from Eight Bail's had takenher to a crime scene, and the driver of that nondescript truck mighthave been a killer. Even if he'd been just another pathetic loserwilling to pay for s.e.x, he'd delivered her to a rendezvous with a fatethat may just have gotten her killed.

Quinn came out of the pool hall, eyes narrowed against the cold and windas he flipped up the collar of his trench coat.

"Kovac says: "Good police work, Red.' If you ever want to give up thesoft life, he'll put a word in for you."

"Yeah? Well, I've-always wanted to work nights, weekends, and holidaysup to my a.s.s in dead bodies. Now's my big chance."

"He's sending a team out to talk to the bartender and whoever else theycan find. If they can come up with somebody who remembers more about thevehicle, or saw the driver that night, they've got something to runwith."

Kate pulled her coat closed up around her throat and stared across theempty street at the bail-bonds place. A red neon light glowed throughthe barred window: CHECK$ CA$HED HERE.

"Timing is everything," she said. "If Angie hadn't been standing on thisstreet at the exact moment that truck pulled up, I'd be home in bed, andyou'd be digging in someone else's honeyard."

She laughed at herself and shook her head, the wind catching a rope ofhair and whipping it across her face. "As long as I've been around, Istill shake my fist at chance. How stupid is that?"

"You always took the prize for stubborn." Quinn reached outautomatically to brush her hair back, his fingertips grazing her cheek."A cynic is a disappointed idealist, you know."

"Is that what happened to you?" she tossed back.

"I never saw life as ideal."

She knew that, of course. She knew about his life, about the abusivealcoholic father, and the grim years growing up in working-cla.s.sCincinnati. She was one of the few people he had allowed to see in thatwindow.

"But that never saved you from disappointment," she said quietly.

"The only thing that can save you from disappointment is hopelessness.

But if you don't have hope, then there's no point in living."

"And what's the difference between hope and desperation?" she asked,thinking of Angie, wondering if she dared hope.

"Time. Which might have already run out for Angie Dimarco, and which hadrun out for the two of them years earlier. Kate felt disappointment sinkdown through her. She wanted to lay her head against Quinn's shoulderand feel his arms slip around her. Instead, she pushed away from thewall and started for the 4Runner parked down by the Laundromat. Thehomeless guy was looking in her back window as if considering it for hisnight's accommodations.

"I'll drop you off at your hotel," she said to Quinn.

"No. I'll ride home with you and call a cab. Tough as you are, I don'twant you going home alone, Kate. It's not smart. Not tonight."

If she'd been feeling stronger, she might have argued just on principle,but she wasn't feeling strong, and the memory of phantom eyes watchingher as she'd let herself in her back door just hours before was stilltoo fresh.

"All right." She hit the remote lock. The alarm system on the truckbeeped loudly, sending the homeless guy scuttling back into the doorwellof the Suds-O-Rama. "But don't try anything funny, or I'll sic my cat onyou."

CHAPTER 18.

"ANYTHING ON THE HOUSE-TO-HOUSE yet?" Kovac asked, lighting a cigarette.

Tippen hunched his bony shoulders. "A lot of people p.i.s.sed off abouthaving cops pounding on their doors in the middle of the night."

They stood on the front porch of the Phoenix, huddled under ajaundice-yellow bug light. The B of I van was still on the yard. Theyard had been cordoned off to create a media-free zone.

The press had swooped in like a flock of vultures, suspiciously in sync.

Kovac squinted through the smoke and the falling snow, staring out atthe end of the sidewalk, where Toni Urskine was being interviewed in theeerie glow of portable lights.

"How much you wanna bet I pull the phone records for this dump tonight Ifind calls to WCCO, KSTP, and KARET' he muttered.

"Raking publicity off crime and tragedy," Elwood said, pushing hisgoofy-looking felt hat down on his head. "It's the American way. Allthis media exposure, you can bet the donations will come rolling in."

"She even hints what's going on here is connected to our witness, I canjust bend over and grab my ankles," Kovac groused. "The bra.s.s p.r.i.c.kswill be lining up behind me."

"Better make nice with her, Sam," Liska suggested, bouncing up and downon the b.a.l.l.s of her feet to keep warm. "Or I could loan you a tube ofK-Y Jelly."

"Jeer, Tinks." Distaste rippled across Kovac's face. He turned toElwood. "What've we got in the bas.e.m.e.nt? What's the story with thatcellar door?"

"Door's locked from the inside. We've got what looks like somebloodstains on the floor. Not a lot. Urskine says it's nothing, that hecut himself working on the furnace a few nights ago."

Kovac made a growling sound low in his throat and looked to Liska again.

"What about your mutt, Vanlees?"

"Can't find him. I wanted to follow him from the meeting, but betweenthe crowd and the traffic getting out there, I lost him."

"He's not working tonight? He came to the meeting in his uniform."

"I'll bet he sleeps in that uniform," she said. "Ever ready to save thepublic from ticket scalpers and unruly basketball fans. He's got a cheapapartment over on Lyndale, but he's not in it. I finally talked to hissoon-to-be ex-wife. She tells me he's house-sitting for someone.

She doesn't know who and couldn't give a s.h.i.t."

"Hey, he wants to be a cop, he might as well start out with one divorceunder his belt," Tippen said.

"She give any indication he's into anything kinky?" Kovac asked.

"Oh, you'll love this," she said, eyes brightening. "I asked her aboutthat misdemeanor trespa.s.s conviction eighteen months ago. Quinn wasright.

"Gil had the hots for some woman his wife works with.

He got caught trying to sneak a peek at her in her panties."

"And he's still working security?" Kovac said.

"He kept it quiet, pleaded down, no one paid attention. He claimed it

was all a big misunderstanding anyway."

"Yeah," Tippen sneered. ""It was all a big mistake, your honor. I was

just driving along, minding my own business, when I was struck by an uncontrollable urge to play spank the monkey.' "

"I like this guy, Sam," Liska said. "His wife had nothing but disdain

for him. She hinted their s.e.x life was nonexistent when they weretogether. If that's true, he could be an even better fit to Quinn'sprofile. A lot of these guys are s.e.xually inadequate with theirpartners."

"Is that the voice of experience?" Tippen dug.

"Well, I haven't been sleeping with you, so I guess not."

"f.u.c.k you, Tinker Bell."

"What part of no don't you understand?"

"I'll put a car outside his apartment," Kovac said. "I want him downtown

ASAP. See if you can't track down this house he's sitting.

Somebody's gotta know where he is. Call his boss, call the wife again.

Tonight. Get the names of his friends. Call them."

"I'll help with that," Moss said.

"Annoy everybody who knows him," Kovac: said. "That'll get back to him

and rattle him. Did you find out what he's driving?"

"A maroon GMC Jimmy."

Kovac felt like someone had punched him in the diaphragm. "A bartender

on Lake Street spotted our witness Sunday night getting into adark-colored truck or SUV. This was the john she did in the park beforeshe came across victim number three."

"Did she name this john?" Adler asked.

"No."

"Would Vanlees have had any way of knowing the girl was staying here?"

Moss asked.

Liska shook her head. "I don't see how, unless he somehow managed to

tail her here from downtown. Seems unlikely."

"Who all did know the witness was here?" Adler asked.

"Us, Sabin, the vic/wit people, the bra.s.s cupcake out there'kovac hooked

a thumb in Toni Urskine's direction- "and the husband. The mayor,Bondurant's people-" "And a partridge in a pear tree," Elwood finished.

"One of the other victims had a connection to this place," Moss pointedout.

"And when she turned up croaked back when, we interviewed everybody atthe house, checked records, alibis, known a.s.sociates, yadda, yadda,yadda,". Kovac said. "I remember the body was found on a Friday. She'dbeen out of here six months or more. I make it over here on Sunday tosee if she was still tight with anyone. The Urskines are gone to somecabin up north, so I can't talk to them, right? Monday morning, eighto'clock, Toni Urskine's on the horn to the lieutenant, demanding he reamme a new one because I hadn't called her yet."

"Now we get to do it all again for a fresh batch of hookers." Tippengroaned. "Like we need more f.u.c.king paperwork to do."

"Hey, that's why they pay you slave wages and treat you like dirt,"Kovac said.

"Here I thought it was something personal."

"Okay. Who wants to hit Lake Street?" Kovac asked. "See if you can findanyone who might have seen the Dimarco girl get in that truck Sundaynight? If you can get a plate number, I'll kiss you full on the mouth."