Page 86 of Cougar Point

“I’m afraid too, Officer Tittle.” I fake a shudder, and he chuckles.

He pulls a ticket book from his back pocket and writes something on it; not enough to be a citation. “I’m not really going to write you a ticket, Detective Carpenter. Who’s your friend?” He lowers his sunglasses almost comically and assesses Ronnie.

“She’s a murder suspect and she’s holding me hostage. Help.”

His jaw comes unhinged, and I have to quickly say, “Detective Ronnie Marsh. My partner. This is Officer Thomas Tittle. He’s the law here.”

He says, “I knew you was kiddin’.”

He really didn’t.

He says, “You got some quick come-backs, Detective Carpenter. That’s good. Us lawmen—and women—he tips his hat, need to have a quick mind. Like for example I know’d you was trying to get my attention when you blew through the stop sign. Smart. And a’ course I had to come after you to make it look real.”

Ronnie looks at the ticket and there are smiley faces drawn across the form. She smiles, leans across me, and offers her hand. He holds it longer than necessary. She says, “Megan has told me about you. She said we can count on you, Constable.”

His smile widens with each word.

“You can call me Tommy.”

“Ronnie,” she says, and has to ask for her hand back. “That’s some grip, Tommy.”

“I work out at the gym in Bellingham. Us lawmen have to keep in shape.”

“Keep up the good work,” I say, and want to gag. “We have some pictures to show you. Of course you can’t tell anyone.”

He puts two fingers to his lips and turns an imaginary key, which to me means he’ll spill his guts to anyone and everyone.

“Ronnie will show you while you check her identification to make this look real.”

He goes to Ronnie’s window and checks out everything but her credentials. She shows him the photos of our quarry and in between lecherous looks he glances at each one. I hate using her like this. Actually, I don’t.

Ronnie tells him the names. “These are persons of interest in a kidnapping.”

Constable Tittle examines the photos and quickly points to the ones of Duke and Thundercloud. “I’ve seen these two guys together in Bellingham. I was taking a prisoner to the jail there since it’s the closest and they were on the street across from the gym I go to. That was three weeks ago. I can get the date for you if you want.”

“That’s not necessary, Tommy,” I say.

“The other guy is Vinnie, right?”

“Good eye,” I tell him.

Ronnie says, “We showed these photos back at Tammy’s bar so I would very much appreciate it if you would listen to the talk. Find out anything you can and call me.”

She gives him a business card.

“I’ll owe you. That’s Megan and I’m Ronnie from now on.”

His hand shakes visibly when he takes the card.

As we drive away, slowly, Ronnie buttons the top two buttons of her blouse.

I laugh. “You should be ashamed.”

FIFTY-FOUR

Victoria comes to lying on her stomach in her own waste. Her hand hurts and she tries to move it, but it seems frozen and throbbing with excruciating pain. Her captors have left the light on. She rolls onto her back and attempts to sit up but the hand hurts too much to use. She examines it and where her hand should be is a stump wrapped with a filthy red bandana. First they took her finger and now her whole hand. She uses her good arm to sit up and cradles the injured stump in her lap. She can’t stop looking at it. She can feel her hand, her fingers. How is that possible? She’s heard about ghost pain from an amputated limb.

“My hand!” she cries out. “You bastards!”

---