Cooked Goose

They had to let him out.”
    “I don’t remember hearing about this.”
    “And that ain’t just because you’re gettin’ senile. They kept it quiet, let him out and shipped him down to San Diego . Unfortunately, he didn’t stay there.”
    Savannah stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at him. “Don’t tell me...”
    Dirk gave her a tired, grim smile. “We’ve got us a new neighbor. He’s living in one of those rundown shacks on the east end.”
    “By the oil fields?”
    “He’s been holed up there for the past six weeks. Prison officials knew he was here, knew we were missing cops, but do you think anybody bothered to drop a dime?”
    “Those stupid peckerheads!”
    “My thoughts exactly.”
    “How did you find out he’s here?”
    “Brenda Lally’s working traffic out on the east end now. He left this shit heap of a car parked right in the middle of the street while he ran into a liquor store for smokes and booze late this morning. She wrote him up, he threw a fit, and she recognized him. Of course, he’s twenty-some years older now, but he’s ugly as ever.”
    “You’ve seen him?”
    “Of course. She called me this afternoon and I was out there ten minutes later.”
    Impatient, she nudged his ribs. “And...?”
    “He wouldn’t talk to me.”
    “So you...?”
    “Hauled his ugly butt down to the station, hassled him for a couple of hours. Nothin’.”
    “The thumbscrews wouldn’t work?”
    “Nope, the bamboo skewers either.”
    “Maybe you weren’t shoving them in the right orifice.” They continued their walk, but the joy of the season was lost on Savannah , due to the bad taste in her mouth and the filthy, creeping sensation she felt when she thought of an animal like Edward Stipp, who never should have seen the light of day after killing a young cop, execution-style in a lettuce field. Stipp had the good fortune of committing his murder before the death penalty had been reinstated in California . He had been in his twenties at the time. Thirty years later, he was still plenty young enough to be dangerous.
    “Is he still spouting hatred for anybody with a badge?” Savannah asked.
    “He offered to shove mine up my ass for me.”
    Savannah did an instant replay on the dead cops and caught her breath. “I suppose that’s a commonly expressed sentiment. Probably doesn’t mean anything.”
    “Probably not.”
    They rounded the corner and headed back to Savannah’s house. She noticed how boring her home was, compared to her festive neighbors’ places. She decided she should at least string a few bulbs on Bogey the Bougainvillea... for the kids’ sake, if not for hers.
    “So, the ‘interview’ wasn’t particularly fruitful, huh? Did you get a search warrant for his dump?” she asked.
    “Nope. That bleedin’ heart liberal, Judge Burrell, said I didn’t have nothin’. Wouldn’t give me one.”
    “You want me to check it out? Us P.I.s aren’t that picky about the paperwork.”
    He laughed. “Naw, you’re gettin’ quite a rap sheet full of suspected B&E’s, thanks to me. Liberal-hearted Burrell might actually send you away next time.”
    “Mmmmm. Where does Stipp hang out these days?” she asked as a plan formed in her head.
    “Mostly at the Shoreline Club, late at night. Why?”
    She shrugged. “Just thinking that I haven’t breathed my quota of stale smoke and beer fumes this month. I’ve got a black leather skirt and some fishnet hose that are getting dusty in a bottom dresser drawer.”
    He gave her an amused, grateful look. “You’re a pisser, Van, you know that? You’d wear leather and fishnets for me?”
    “I’d do anything for you, big boy,” she said, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.
    “Anything?”
    She gouged him with her elbow. “Get real.”
    He sighed. “That’s what I thought. You’re just messin’ with me again.”
    As they sauntered up the sidewalk to her front door, Savannah savored her last few seconds of peace and quiet, while one part of her brain tried to recall if she had any Winnie the Pooh bubble bath stashed beneath her bathroom sink.
    “By the way,” she said, her hand on the doorknob. “Exactly what happened... the minute after Stipp told you to shove your badge where the sun don’t shine?”
    Dirk sniffed. “Funny thing. At that very moment, Stipp lost his balance and fell. Banged his right eye on a door frame. Got himself a nasty shiner.”
    “Really? Imagine that.” She reached down for his