Criminal

her. Could she scream now if he lunged for her? Would Phillip even hear her? If he did, would he be able to find his keys in time to stop the worst of it?
    Amanda couldn’t generate enough saliva in her mouth to swallow. She opened her notebook. “Mr. Mathison, I understand that you’ve confessed to the murder of Lucy Bennett?”
    He didn’t answer.
    Water dripped from a hole in the ceiling. The drops had puddled on the floor. There was a dead rat in the corner, its neck broken by a trap. Cobwebs filled the corners. The air stank of sweat mixed with the distinctive ammonia smell of dried urine.
    She said, “Mr. Math—”
    “Mm-mm.” Juice slowly licked his tongue along his top lip. “You still a fine-lookin’ woman.” He made a tsking noise. “Shoulda took you when I had the chance.”
    Incongruously, Amanda felt a smile wanting to come to her lips. She could hear Evelyn’s voice, the way she’d mimicked Juice when they were at the Varsity.
    Her tone was surprisingly strong when she said, “Well, you lost your chance.” Amanda clicked her pen so she could take notes. “What happened to Jane Delray?”
    He made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan. “Why you askin’ after that bitch?”
    “I want to know where she is.”
    He held his hand up above his head and whistled like a dive-bombing airplane as he dropped it to the table.
    Amanda looked at his hand. Two of his fingers were taped together with surgical tape. There were no scratches on his hands, his bare arms. “You confessed to killing Lucy Bennett.”
    “I confessed to keepin’ my black ass outta the ’lectric chair.”
    “The death penalty is no longer legal.”
    “They say they gone bring it back for me.”
    Given the circumstances, Amanda didn’t doubt that the state would try. Everyone knew it was only a matter of time before Old Sparky was powered back up again.
    She said, “We both know you didn’t kill that woman.”
    “Wished I woulda.”
    “Why didn’t you?”
    “Why you here, bitch? Why you care what happen to a nigger?”
    “I don’t, actually.” Amanda was startled by the truth of her own words. “I care about the girls.”
    “ ’Cause they white.”
    “No.” Again, she told him the truth. “Because they’re girls. Because no one else cares about them.”
    He looked at her. Amanda hadn’t realized until that moment that Juice had been avoiding her eyes. She stared back at him, wondering if she was the first woman who’d had the courage to do so. He must have a mother somewhere. A sister. He couldn’t rape and whore out every woman he met.
    Juice tapped his hand on the table. Amanda didn’t look away, but Juice did. “You’re like her.”
    “Like who?”
    “Lucy.” He kept tapping his fingers on the tabletop. “She strong. Too strong. I break her down. But she always get back up.”
    “Was Kitty like that, too?”
    “Kitty.” He snorted. “That bitch near about broke me , you hear what I’m sayin’? Had to beat her down and keep her down.” He pointed at Amanda. “You run them gals long enough, you see the strongest one’s the one what’s gonna be most loyal. All’s you gotta do is find you way in.”
    “I’ll keep that in mind if I ever decide to trick out women.”
    He put his palms flat on the table and leaned toward her. “I trick you out, bitch. Gimme five minutes with that fine white ass.” He started thrusting his hips, banging against the table. “Dig my hands in that juicy white meat. Stick it in ya till ya cryin’.” He banged harder against the table, punctuating each thrust with a deep moan. It was a guttural sound that made her note the dark bruises on his throat.
    She asked, “Would you choke me?”
    “I choke you, bitch.” He pushed one last time against the table. “I choke you till you come so hard you pass out.”
    “Do you like being choked?”
    “Shit.” He crossed his arms over his chest. His biceps were huge. “Ain’t nobody chokin’ this brother.”
    Amanda remembered something Pete had said in the morgue. “Did you urinate on yourself?”
    “I ain’t piss myself.” He tilted up his chin defensively. “Who told you that?”
    Amanda felt a smug smile on her lips. “You just did.”
    He stared at the wall.
    “The apartment at Techwood. That’s Kitty’s, isn’t it?”
    He didn’t answer.
    “I can stay here all day,” she told him, and in that moment, Amanda could see herself doing just that. Bubba Keller would have to drag her