We’d just landed in Boots’ apartment when she said, “I don’t understand the dance in your step.”

“Oh shit, I completely forgot about the slow one. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’ve seen you get parking tickets before. You’re usually insulted that you don’t get a free ride like the clergy.”

The thought of standing in front of a well dressed congregation amused me. “More like an Avenging Angel than a Priest.” My eyes danced over the river and the lights below. “God, this room is wonderful,” I added.

I could hear Boots move around the bedroom. “You seem awfully pleased about the conversation with Tom,” she called.

“I am.” “Why?”

“I’ve finally caught Blackhead in an outright lie.”

Boots appeared at my side wearing a midnight blue satin nightgown. I felt a rush of desire flood through my body. I lit a cigarette and pulled the joint case from the wall-hatch where I had left it.

“Tom lied to you about not recognizing those initials.” She stared at my face to see if the news would startle me.

“You caught it too?”

She smiled. “Honest men make lousy liars. I still don’t understand why you’re in such good humor. You walked out of there with no more facts than when you walked in?”

“A few more. Blackhead’s lie, Belchar’s cover for J.B. Not much, but a beginning. Mostly a confirmation that things aren’t what they seem. Now I can pull at the edges until it takes shape.”

Boots shook her head. “I’d think that would make you crazy?” “Not when I have cards to play. I have an idea about those initials.” She raised her eyebrows and waited.

“Jonathan Barrie. Well placed, and has a young musician friend who travels. Remember, Barrie was the guy who took in the girl after her brother Peter was killed. Also, Blackhead hates him, and that might mean something.”

“Isn’t Barrie the community leader?” “Yup.”

“That doesn’t slow you down?”

“Too cynical for you?” Before the sentence was finished, I felt a sudden sinking sensation in my gut. Melanie wasn’t gonna be thrilled to have Jonathan in my crosshairs.

Boots climbed all over my decline. “What’s the matter, Matt?”

“Nothing.” I chose my next words carefully. “This Barrie seems like a decent guy, that’s all. He took the girl in, and gave her a real shot.”

“The girl?”

“Melanie Knight. Peter’s sister. I’ve mentioned her.” “More than once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked sharply.

Boots’ tone was even. “You keep calling her a girl, but she’s a woman now.”

“Twenty years is a long time,” I agreed blandly.

I sensed that Boots had more to say, but she deliberately stayed quiet, pointing to the dope. I quickly pulled a joint and fired up. When I handed it to her, she took it with a gentle smile. I ran my hand along her satin covered side. “No mistaking you for a girl…”

“No more talk, please?” she asked.

I nodded. We kissed in front of what felt like the whole world. I took her hand and led us to the bedroom.

Afterward, while we lay in bed quietly smoking, I asked, “What am I supposed to do about Lou?”

Boots sat up and pulled the covers just over her nipples. I felt myself stir; she looked so damn French. “I think you are going to have to talk with him. Tell him about your problems with family. It won’t surprise him.”

Her words left me as unsettled as before. “I don’t know what to do,” I said glumly.

“You don’t have to know. You just have to talk.” Her eyes lit up. “Who knows? Once you’re wired in, maybe you’ll like it.”

“Wired in, huh? Ma Bell talk?”

She whacked me on the top of my head as I burrowed under the comforter to nibble on her belly. “I have to practice wiring in,” I said, between tiny bites.

This time our lovemaking was slow and languid. At one point I jumped out of bed, raised the thermostat level, and tossed the comforter to the floor. We sipped bourbon and toked dope between kisses and caresses. Sex became a lazy dream on a warm Caribbean beach…her body warm and open, our actions tender and loving. When we finished I lay on my back, spacey, with Boots tucked into the crook of my arm. I dumped my cigarette, and shifted into spoons.

But the mood died in the morning when I awoke to Boots’ talking on the telephone. She wasn’t dressed for Saturday morning cartoons. I watched her gently place the receiver back in its cradle. When she turned in my direction she appeared startled to see me.

“I didn’t hear you get up,” she said. “There’s coffee in the kitchen.”

“Thanks, I’ll be out in a second.” I ducked back into the bedroom, and pulled on my clothes. If I didn’t change them soon they’d walk home without me. I filled the tiny kitchen as I helped myself to caffeine. The atmosphere was tense.

“Hal, huh?” I glanced in Boots’ direction, and she nodded. “No surprise,” I said glumly. A look of anger darted across her face. “There you go again.”

I sipped at the coffee. There was something familiar about this scene. “I didn’t hear myself give you any shit.”

“It’s your voice, your attitude.”

I raised my shoulders uncertainly. “What do you want my attitude to be?” “A little more honest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, suddenly defensive.

“I think you know. At first I thought it was only that ugly neighborhood, and your memories of Megan. Now I think it’s all of that, and also the Knight woman.”

A jolt of guilt ripped through me; I started to protest. Boots wouldn’t let me. “Matt, please, I don’t want you to say anything.”

She walked over to a wooden chair, pulled it out from the wall, and sat down. I refilled my cup, spilled a little, and found a napkin. I waited while she found her words.

“Every time you talk about this case, your voice changes when you mention Melanie Knight. Your attitude about Hal has to do with you, not me.” She blinked her eyes rapidly, then turned her face away. “I can handle things if you’ll just be honest. But not if you take your hypocrisy out on me.”

Guilty defensiveness triggered my denial. “How come every time we get into a fight it’s because of me? I didn’t call you this morning, Hal did. I didn’t expect you to get dressed up, Hal did. I expected us to hang out together. You interpret everything I say the way you want, then blame me for the hard times.” I waved my hands. “Don’t you think your theories are just a little too pat?”

I walked out of the kitchen and glowered at her as she stood and walked around the room gathering my stuff. The dismissal just annoyed me more. “What time does the Hal Show begin?”

There were tears in her eyes as she handed me my jacket. “I’m not trying to analyze you,” she said quietly. “I’m trying to make sense of what’s happening between us. I thought since we had a good night we could talk without the bullshit. But this morning you’re still doing the same thing.”

“You say ‘us’ but just talk about me. You don’t say a word about Hal.”

Boots walked to the door and opened it. “What I’m talking about has nothing to do with Hal.” I didn’t move. “It never does. That’s what I’m talking about. You say you don’t want to marry him, but you wear him like a damn shield.” The speech diffused most of my anger, and I walked the rest of my guilt to the door.

There was a doubting look on Boots’ face, but she took my hand once I was in reach. “I can’t stand the same thing happening over and over. You’re wrapped up with the case. Find the damned driver and finish with The End. That way we’ll both have time to think.”

She squeezed my hand and, when I lifted my eyes from the carpet, she was crying. I nodded awkwardly, caught in my own unhappiness. Boots finally let me go, gently closed the door, and relieved us both of our immobilized misery.

I took a long slow boat to the car. She was right about one thing: I wanted to find that driver. The hunt had become a reprieve from making decisions.

Momentarily I thought I’d caught another reprieve when I got inside my apartment and found Lou gone. But relief was quickly replaced by the lure of action when I saw Jonathan Barrie’s name and telephone number with the word “urgent” alongside the name, scrawled in Lou’s sloppy handwriting.

The line was still busy on my third try when the door opened and Lou entered. I nodded but got busy dialing. Right then I had more to say to J.B. than to Lou.

He said, “I was worried, Matty.”

“I heard, Boots told me. There was no reason, I was fine.” “She said you were working on the case.”

I listened to the busy signal, replaced the receiver, and motioned toward the bedroom. Lou followed me in. “I thought you were quitting,” he said.

“Things change. I’m up to my eyeballs.” I sniffed. “I need a shower.” “You need to burn your clothes.”

I grinned as I peeled them off my body. “A wash will probably do.” “Where are you going to bury them until you get around to a wash?” “Lou, you’re insulting my housekeeping.”

“No, Boychick, I’m insulting you.” He said it with a smile, but he was upset. I stayed silent rummaging through the drawers for something to wear.

“I think we need to shmooze,” he said quietly.

I kept pulling out clothes and stuffing them away. “Okay, okay, I’ll do a wash.”

“I don’t mean about that.”

I finally found usables and threw them on the bed. “Look, I acted stupidly the other day. I’m sorry if I spoiled the party.”

Lou lowered his bulk into the chair which creaked but held. “I don’t give a damn about the party. I don’t like the fighting between us.”

“I don’t like it either, Lou.” I felt foolish standing there naked. “That’s why we need to sit and talk,” he said.

He was right, but I wasn’t ready. “This isn’t a good time for me. Did Barrie say anything else?”

“No, but he sounded very upset.” A look of annoyance crossed his face. “It’s been difficult to find a good time for us, Matt.”

“I know, I know,” I conceded. “But now is really bad. I have to see this guy.” “I’m leaving in the morning, Boychick.”

I felt pulled when I wanted to push. The image of the truck’s tires, and, oddly, Belchar’s dirty kids, hit me and I rushed to placate him. “We’ll talk tonight, I promise. Try to understand, two nights ago somebody tried to run me over. Now I have a lead to follow.”

His face was set, his body stiff and uncomfortable in the chair. “You’ve been dodging me since I got here.”

“Lou, didn’t you hear me?”

“I heard you. Did you hear me?”

I started out of the room. “We’re not getting anywhere now. Let me clean up at least, okay?” I continued to the bathroom and hoped he’d nodded yes.

When I came out, Lou was nowhere in the apartment. I pushed my misgiving into a corner of my head and dialed Jonathan’s number. It was still busy so, after a couple of hits on my pipe, I quickly dressed. Halfway out the door I decided to wear the gun.

The hunt had generated an enthusiasm that left me engaged in something larger than my separation from Boots or my confusion about Lou. I still didn’t know what I was engaged in, but I did know it felt terrific to work again as a living, breathing detective.