I started to answer but then checked my psychological armor. When I stopped a moment, I didn’t like what I felt. I thought how hurtful Koby’s silence had been and I had only known him for a little over a week. I’d known Oliver for a very long time and he had come through for me. He had been there when I needed a shoulder to cry on, when I needed a warm, strong body to get me through some terrible nights. He had tucked me into bed and fixed me breakfast in the morning… made sweet love to me.

He was a jerk, but I’d been one, too.

My eyes watered. “You’re right. I should have called. My state of mind wasn’t too great right after… and then… I don’t know… I just didn’t bother. I apologize.”

He gave me the strength of his eyes. “Rather formal… but accepted.”

He deserved better. I swallowed dryly. “Scott, I am so very,verysorry.” Tears streamed down my cheeks. “I really am.”

“Hey…” He came over to me. “Hey, it’s fine.” He put his hands on my shoulders, then drew me to him. I sobbed on his white shirt. Everything came crashing down: this dreadful, stark apartment, the shock of the accident, my horrible first year on the force. I clutched his shirt as I wept on his chest. He wasn’t the one I should be crying to and I was very resentful. He threw his arms around me. “Hey, the score’s settled, old girl. It’s fine.” He patted my back. “I mean it. It’s fine. Stop that!”

I sniffed. “Thanks for not gossiping about me.”

“Thanks for not gossiping about me. I’m certain I had a lot more to lose than you did.”

I laughed and so did he.

“Are you all right, Cindy?”

“No.” I wiped my tears. “But I’ll be okay.”

He was still holding me. It felt good, but it wasn’t what I wanted or needed. I kissed his cheek and broke it off. “You’ve been a good friend and I don’t have many. I should keep that in mind.”

He nodded. “Thanks. That was nice.”

“I really do have to meet Hayley.”

“Have time for a cup of coffee tomorrow?”

“Scott, that wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“Maybe not for you. For me, it would be a great idea.”

“You’re dating one of my good friends.”

“I’d take you back in a heartbeat.”

“It wouldn’t work, Oliver.”

“I’m not so sure.” He approached me from behind, slipped his arms around my waist. My robe was loosely bound, and his hands started to touch skin.

Again I pulled away. “You’re good, Oliver, but I’m trying to be better.”

“That’s no fun.”

“I’m trying to pull my life together. Please? Please, please,please?”

He frowned. “At least, tell me you were aroused.”

“I was aroused.”

“You fuck him?”

My face got warm. “Stop it.”

“Is it true what they say about bla-”

“Oliver, get the hell out of here.”

Still, he stalled. “So how are the kids?”

“What kids?”

“Didn’t your friend go to the hospital with the kids in the accident? What was the guy’s name again?”

Like he didn’t know. Oliver, like my father, was an excellent detective. Those kinds of details would never slip his mind. “Yaakov.”

“Yeah, but you called him something else at first.”

“Koby.”

“Like the basketball player? What the hell kind of a name is Koby?”

He was delving for more info. I said, “It’s short for Yaakov-Jacob. When he moved to Israel, he started using his Hebrew name, Yaakov, which is also Jacob.”

“Why does he have a Hebrew name?”

“Because Koby’s Jewish.”

Oliver laughed. “You’re kidding me.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Convert?”

“No, he’s born Jewish. He’s an Ethiopian Jew. Can we switch the subject? Better still, can you leave and then I can get dressed?”

“Don’t let me stop you. You never answered my question. Did the kids in the accident pull through?”

“You know, Scott, I don’t know. I haven’t heard from Koby since the accident.”

“Ouch!” Oliver said.

“No big deal. I told you it was nothing.”

“Sure you don’t want that cup of coffee?” His smile was downright charming. “Talk it over with Uncle Scottie? Hmmm?”

I was down, he looked good, and it was tempting. But the past year had made me just a wee bit smarter. I kissed his cheek. “You were right to call me on my bad behavior. Let’s leave it on a high note.” Before I could weaken, I stepped out the door, waiting for him to follow. When he did, I closed the door behind me, hoping I didn’t lock myself out. “I won’t bother to tell Hayley about this.”

“What’s to tell? Nothing happened.” He smiled. “You still have time to change that.”

“Oliver, leave me alone or I’ll sic the Loo on you.”

“Bringing out the heavy artillery, huh?”

I smiled. When in doubt, punt to Dad.

?

After breakfast and girl talk/therapy with Hayley (no mention of Oliver’s visit, of course), I arrived at the station house a few hours before I was due to go on shift. I looked up any kind of information I could on Hermano or Germando. I didn’t know his last name because Alice Anne hadn’t known it, but there was a section for distinguishing marks and the tiger tattoo qualified under that category. When I typed it in, I was shocked at Alice Anne’s accuracy. A lesson well learned: Never discount anyone.

Germando El Paso was now eighteen and a half, with a warrant out for his arrest for unpaid traffic citations, specifically a speeding ticket and three parking violations. In the past, he’d been picked up for two DUIs, and his license was currently suspended, but hey, when did that ever stop bad guys from driving? He had also been arrested for a misdemeanor possession of marijuana, and had a sealed juvenile record. Since he wasn’t on probation, he had no probation officer. But there had been a juvenile officer who had worked with him. I took down his name and gave him a call.

I got voice mail, so I left a message.

I went down into the locker room and changed into my uniform. Homicide Detective Justice Brill snagged me right before I entered the roll-call room. Brill was in his mid-thirties, around five-ten, and good-looking in that seamed Steve McQueen/Paul Newman kind of way. They didn’t make movie stars like that anymore. Instead, it was all these slender pretty boys that I could probably beat in an arm wrestle. Brill was married but had a penchant for frequenting gentlemen’s clubs. I stayed clear of him.

“We think we found the SUV. It was a stolen vehicle with stolen plates, but you did get the last four digits right. Good for you.”

“You impound it?”

“No, I put it up on eBay.” Brill smiled, his eyes oozing sincerity. “You did a good job, Decker.”

I took the compliment with grace and aplomb, and a gallon of salt.

He said, “Here’s the thing. The front bumper of the car was an inkblot of smashed body parts, but the rear bumper was clean.”

“She wasn’t hit on the rear bumper.”

“Very good, Decker, I see gold in your future.” He rolled his eyes. “Now since the plates were stolen, the lab dusted it for prints. Guess what?”

“There were none.”

“Bingo. But the lab did find a smear of fresh blood on the top right screw, where you screw the license plate onto the bumper.”

“Was the smear enough for a partial?”

“There was a partial, but nothing popped up in the system.”

So much for that. “Did the blood match the victim’s?”

“We don’t know for sure because the tests are preliminary. But the lab did run a simple ABO-victim’s blood was O, the smear was B. There was nothing else on the plate.” He looked at me. “Any ideas?”

He was giving me a hurdle to jump. I thought about it for a moment. “And the lab didn’t find the B blood type anywhere else on the SUV?”

“No.”

I tapped my foot. “It’s on the screw but not on the license plate.”

“Right.”

Suddenly sparks popped in my brain. “If there were no prints on the license plates, maybe instead of just wiping it down, he wore gloves. Thing is, license plate edges are sharp. Could be the plate cut the latex while he was fiddling with it. Maybe the edge was sharp enough to cut through the latex and exposed part of his fingertip-hence the partial. Maybe it also cut skin. But he didn’t notice it because it was only a few droplets. The blood could have leaked out onto the screw as he attached the plate to the bumper.”