Blue Smoke

shoulder rammed against the wall as she fell in the same direction.
    “You bitch. Write me a check ? You fucking ball-busting bitch.”
    She saw stars, little red stars that danced in front of her eyes. More than pain, shock had her freezing for a moment when he reached down and dragged her to her feet.
    “Take your hands off me.” She heard the tremor in her voice, fought to calm it. Learn to run, her grandfather had told her once. And she had. But there was nowhere to run. “Take them off me, Luke. Right now.”
    “I’m done letting you tell me what to do. You’re done running this show. It’s about time you learn what happens when somebody tries to play me.”
    She didn’t think. Didn’t think that he was about to hit her again, or how to stop it. She simply reacted, as she’d been trained to react.
    She plowed the heel of her hand up, connecting hard with his chin, and rammed her knee viciously between his legs.
    The stars were still dancing when he crumbled, and her breath was coming fast and short. But by God, there was no tremor in her voice.
    “Now you can call me a ball-busting bitch. Too bad for you that you forgot cop’s part of that, too. Get your sorry ass up and out of my house.” She grabbed a lamp, yanked the cord to pull it out of the wall. And reared it back on her shoulder like a bat. “Or we can go another round, you bastard. Get out, and consider yourself lucky you’re not spending the night in a cell, or the goddamn hospital.”
    “I’m not going to forget this.” His face was pale as wax, and he had to crawl before he gained his feet. His eyes were molten as he stared at her. “I’m not going to forget this.”
    “Good. Neither am I. Get the hell out. Don’t come near me again.”
    She didn’t shake, not when she followed him out into the living room. She didn’t shake while she waited for him to grab his coat, limpto the door. She stayed calm as she bolted the door behind him, and even when she stepped up to the mirror to examine her face.
    She got her digital camera, set the timer, took shots full face and profile, then sent them with a brief e-mail explanation to her partner.
    Cover your ass, she told herself. Then she got a bag of frozen peas out of her freezer, sat down with them pressed to her bruised cheek.
    And shook like a leaf.

12
Sitting in the car, smoking a Camel. Little slut’s come up in the world. Riding around with Fancy Suit in the shiny Mercedes. Ride like that went for thirty grand easy. Ought to have one like it. Maybe just boost that one. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass? Fancy Suit comes back out, swishing in his cashmere coat, and he’s got no car.
    Be worth a few laughs.
    But first watching was the name of the game.
    Get the binoculars. Slut left her shades up most times. Probably liked having guys jack off watching her up there.
    No whore like a Catholic whore.
    Standing in the living room. Looks intense. Love birds having a love spat maybe. Should’ve gotten a beer. Better watching with a cold one.
    Look at her face. Sexy face, little mole, curvy lips. Get a boner instead of a beer.
    Into the bedroom. Now we’re talking! Peel it off, baby. Take it off for Daddy.
    Whoops! Solid backhand! Somebody’s feeling a little out of sorts. Hope he hits her again. Come on, Fancy Suit, hit the bitch again. Fans in the front row want to see the smackdown.
    Jesus, what a pussy. Let some skinny woman take you down?
    Get another smoke. Something to think about. Maybe kick his ass when he comes out. Maybe beat him to fucking death. Use a pipe, a bat. Blood all over Fancy Suit. Fingers point to her. Could point right at her.
    See how long she stays a frigging cop when she’s a murder suspect.
    Could be fun. And she’d always wonder, wouldn’t she?
    Fancy Suit comes out, limping like his balls are the size of cantaloupes. Have to laugh. It’s a real knee-slapper.
    Still laughing as you pull out to follow the shiny blue Mercedes. Hell of a car.
    And smiling, big, shit-eating grin because there’s a better idea in there. Better, and big-time fun with it.
    Takes a little time, but good things come. Have to make a detour, get some supplies. Keep it simple. Simple’s always better. Simple is your stock-in-trade.
    Get that beer now while you work. Explosives 101. She’d know enough for that. Sure, she would. Arson unit’s kissing cousins to the bomb squad. Nice little device. Simple. Boys and girls, don’t try this trick at home.
    Late enough now,