82 Desire

get into it with her, because the truth is, I don’t know anything right now. But Russell sure as hell does—and I think he’s the quickest way out for us. These dudes were screwing people out of oil leases. What if one of the screwees is exacting revenge? Russell splits, but his partner gets killed. Russell’s got to know who did it.”
    “Well, great. Let’s just ask him.”
    “Here’s the thing. I think I know where he is. With you working the routine stuff on Beau, I can duck out and run him down.”
    Abasolo leaned his lanky frame against the back of his chair. “Langdon, you never cease to amaze me.”
    “He’s probably in Fort Lauderdale.”
    “You’re just such a hot dog.”
    She was slightly taken aback. This must be a guy thing , she thought. Something to do with ego.
    She shrank back. “Oh, God, AA. I never know when I’m going to offend someone. I may talk Southern, but I’m not a true Southerner. If I were, I’d never make these mistakes. Listen, you want Russell? You got him. I’ll take Beau—I’m sure McGuire could care less who does what.”
    Abasolo laughed. “I don’t want Russell. I just enjoy watching you hustle your butt, that’s all.”
    “You’re so damn superior.”
    “Come on, run it down for me.”
    “I’ve traced him to Fort Lauderdale. I think he went there to get a boat.”
    “Ah. Which he no doubt sailed away, days ago.”
    “Maybe not, though. Maybe it’s taking him a while to get things together. A loan to buy a boat, maybe.”
    “He probably chartered it.”
    “Well, anyway, I want to go down there and poke around.”
    Abasolo nearly spilled his latte. “How’re you planning to break the news to the lovely lieutenant?”
    “I’m going on my own time.”
    “Own money, too, I suppose?”
    “That’s the idea.”
    “Okay, I’m finally getting your drift—you want me to cover for you while you’re gone.”
    She nodded.
    “Well, I have to. The lieutenant gave me Beau, remember?”
    “That’s what I meant by the way she read my mind.”
    “It’s possible, Langdon. It’s possible. That woman’s probably as big a hot dog as you are. So naturally she’d figure out how you wanted to play it.”
    “Feeling used, AA?”
    Abasolo ignored her. He had a worried look on his face.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    “I don’t think she’s going to make it here. She’s too straightforward. Too independent.”
    “Oh, come on. I do okay.”
    “Yeah, you’re their poster girl—they don’t need two. Besides, you know your place. You could take the sergeant’s exam, move up, everything’s cool. But once you got to be a lieutenant, if you still acted like you do now, they’d bust your ass just to show they could do it.”
    “Who would?”
    “You know who. The old boys.”
    She had a sudden surge of affection for the lieutenant, suddenly saw her in a new light—as someone like herself. Someone not given to suffering fools or obeying other people’s rules. Abasolo was right—she probably wouldn’t last long.
    But for the moment, she’d given Skip her freedom. She fooled around the rest of the day, trying to help Abasolo with some of the routine stuff regarding Beau, but chafing to get out of town.
    Which she did early the next morning, Steve Steinman more or less good-naturedly in tow. “You know what this is costing me? Three days’ work on the house.”
    “Yes, but you know what you’re trading for it? Three days of sanity.”
    In the end, of course, he didn’t go to the beach while she worked. He tagged along as she took Russell’s picture to every charter place in the phone book—it was an absurd long shot, she knew, because she had to find the one person who’d waited on him. He’d disappeared on a Sunday. She figured he’d probably chartered the boat—or bought it—the next day.
    Fort Lauderdale being huge in area, they spent almost all day crisscrossing Broward County, showing the picture and asking for the guy who worked Mondays—who was almost invariably off Saturdays.
    By the end of the day, Skip was sure she was on a fool’s errand, and slipping into a depression. Steve, on the other hand, was poring over a restaurant guide. “Hey, Asian food. You know how much you miss that if you’re from California? Along with fresh fruits and vegetables. What do you think about sushi?”
    Skip feigned gagging.
    “Good. You can have tempura.”
    Skip didn’t answer. She was too busy phoning guys who worked Mondays.
    But in the