He'd applied for a job with Santa Teresa Police department at the same time I did, but he'd been turned down. I lost track of him for a while and then I heard he'd joined the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department. Word of his exploits started leaking back to us. In bars after hours, the talk would start, cops trading tales about the crazy things Jimmy Tate had done. He was the kind of officer you wanted next to you any time there was trouble. In a pinch, he was absolutely fearless, oblivious of danger. In a pissing contest with the "bad guys," he was right out in front. His aggression seemed to generate a force field around him, a protective shield. Other cops had told me that watching him under fire, you became aware that in his own way, he was as dangerous as "they" were – the bank robbers, the dopers, gang members, snipers, all the lunatics who had it in for us law-and-order types. Unfortunately, his ferocity pushed him across the line more than once. I gathered he did things you didn't talk about later – things you pretended you hadn't seen because he'd saved your life and you owed him. Eventually, he was tapped as part of a special investigating unit put together to monitor the activities of known criminals. Six months later, the section was disbanded after a series of questionable shootings. Twelve officers were suspended, Jimmy Tate among them. All were reinstated after review by the police commission, but it seemed clear it was only a matter of time before something blew in a big way.

Two years ago, I'd come across his name in the L.A. Times. He'd been reassigned to a narcotics unit and had just been indicted, along with six other deputies, in a money-skimming scandal that was rocking the department. The details were spelled out day after day during preliminary hearings. Five of the six were bound over for trial and one of those blew his brains out. I followed the court proceedings in occasional copies of the L.A. Times, though I never heard the outcome. It wouldn't have surprised me to learn he was guilty as charged. He was reckless and self-destructive, but as odd as it sounds, I knew if I'd had a brother, I'd have wanted him to be exactly like Jimmy Tate, not for his conduct and the dubious underlying morality, but because of his loyalty and his passionate commitment to survival. We live in a society piously concerned about the rights of criminals when their victims' lives have been trashed without any consideration of the price in pain and suffering. With Jimmy Tate in charge, believe me, justice was served. There simply wasn't much attention paid to the technicalities involved.

He and Bibianna came off the dance floor. The band was taking a break and the noise level dropped so fast it was almost like turning deaf. I focused on Jimmy's face, knowing any minute he'd spot me and the recognition would leap in his eyes. The two of them sat down at the table, and Bibianna pulled her hair up with one hand and fanned her bare neck with the other. She was winded, laughing, the color high in her cheeks, her hair damp at the temples where the dark strands had separated into little tendrils. "This's the woman I was telling you about, came to look at my place," she said to him, indicating me. "What'd you say your name was?"

Jimmy's smile was polite as his gaze traveled from her face to mine. I held a hand out.

"Hello, Jimmy. I'm Hannah Moore," I said. "You remember me?"

Clearly he did, and I knew from his look my real name was attached to the recollection. Whatever his current status, he was still too thoroughly trained as a cop to blow my cover. He smiled as he took my hand, dosing me with the same low-voltage sexuality he turned on Bibiana. He lifted my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckle affectionately. "God, babe. How are you? It's been years," he said.

"You two know each other?" she asked.

He returned my hand to me reluctantly. "We were in grade school together," he said without pause, and I felt myself flush with pleasure since that was the connection I cared about. The academy and whatever happened after that was the stuff of our grown-up years. The other had a magical quality that would always take precedence in my book.

He pulled a crumpled bill out of his pants pocket with a glance at Bibianna before his eyes returned to my face. "I need some cigarettes, doll. Can you do me that?"

She hesitated just long enough to let him know her cooperation was a gift. Her smile was underlined with irony and the look she gave me was knowing. She tucked the bill between her breasts and walked away without a word. Jimmy's gaze traced a loving line up her legs to her hips. She was moving with the self-conscious thrust and sway of a model or a starlet, aware of her effect. She sent a slow smile back to him, puckering her mouth in a gesture that was half pout, half promise.

I felt a laugh bubble up. "I can't believe running into you this way," I said. "How do you know Bibianna?"

He smiled. "I met her in L.A. at a Halloween party a year ago. I saw her a couple times down there, then ran into her again up here."

"I had no idea you were back. What have you been up to?"

"Not much," he said. His eyes flicked across my face as he checked me out. "How about yourself? Last I heard you'd left the department and were working for some agency."

"I was. I got licensed. Now I work for myself. Are you still with the L.A. County Sheriff's?"

"Not exactly."

"What 'exactly' are you doing? Last I heard you were being tried for theft," I said.

"She's something, isn't she?" he said, avoiding my question.

"What's the story, Jimmy?"

He propped his chin on his fist, smiling at me with his eyes. "I'm retired. I sued the shit out of them – ten million bucks."

"You sued them?" I said. "What about the charges?"

My reaction seemed to amuse him and I watched him shrug. "I was acquitted. That's the way the system works. Sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you. I'd been on medical leave, collecting disability for job-related pain and stress. Next thing I know, there's a bunch of us charged with conspiracy, money laundering, income tax evasion, God knows what else. They put us through hell and by the time I got from under that, all my benefits were cut and I was being asked to resign. Forget that. No way. I found a lawyer and filed suit."

"After you were cleared?"

"Shit, yes. I'm not going to let them get away with that. The way they see it, I got off on a technicality. I was the only one acquitted, but I still did the whole nine yards the same as the others, so why am I being penalized twice? A jury said I was innocent.'

"Were you?"

"Of course not, but that's not the point," he said. "The prosecution had a shot at me and couldn't make it stick, so now I'm off the hook. Doesn't matter if I did it or not. Court says I'm clear, I'm clear. That's the law."

"So they fired you?"

"In effect. What they did was they axed my disability. They decided I was trouble and they wanted me outta there, which is why they cut my benefits. Said I had an attitude. No way I was going to put up with that, so I sued their asses off. We just settled last week. Seven hundred and fifty thou. Of course, when the check comes through, my attorney's going to take his cut off the top, but I'm still going to end up with three sixty-five. My retirement fund. Pretty good, yes?"

"That's great."

"Meantime, I'm flat broke, but what are you going to do?"

"What about Bibianna? Does she know you're a cop?"

"Does she know you're a P.I.?"

I shook my head to one side, his smile fading as he saw my expression shift. "You're not investigating her?"

I didn't answer, which was answer enough.

"What for?" he asked.

I figured I might as well level with him. He'd find a way to get it out of me eventually. "Insurance fraud," I said, watching for his reaction. If I'd hoped to surprise him, I was out of luck.