Easy Prey

our side. She says the loans are funky.”
    “That’s the technical expression: funky.”
    “Exactly. But there’s a problem,” Lane said. “I created it. I made the fundamental investigatory error: I asked one too many questions. No—I asked two too many.”
    “I’ve told you about that,” Lucas said.
    “Yeah. So I’ve got this bank examiner—who’s got nice legs, by the way, even if she wasn’t a big rock ’n’ roller—and I say, ‘What would you do if you’d caught him doing this? During a bank examination.’ And she says, ‘We’d tell him that the loan was weak, and depending on the status of their other loans, we might require action.’ And I say, ‘That’s it?’ And she says, ‘What’d you think we were gonna do? Shoot him?’”
    “So then I make the next mistake. I ask another question.”
    “You already had two questions.”
    “Naw, that was like question one and one-a. Now I’m at question two. I ask, ‘How many commercial loans are there in Minnesota? Gotta be hundreds of thousands, huh?’ And she says, ‘Well, many tens of thousands, anyway. ’ And I ask—this is question two-b—‘How many are this bad?’ I figured she’d say something like, we get one or two a year. You know what she said?”
    “I’m afraid to know,” Lucas said.
    “Be very afraid,” Lane said. “She said, ‘There might be a few thousand.’”
    Lucas said, “Goddamnit.”
    “Yeah. Our hold on Spooner just got slipperier. On the other hand—I thought of this on the way over here. . . .”
    “What?”
    “Spooner doesn’t know it,” Lane said.
    “You’re a sneaky fuck,” Lucas said. “It’s a quality I admire in a cop.”
     
 
A STHE EARLIER darkness settled in and the lights came up, Del came by with an ice cream cone and said, “I’m gonna go see Marcy. Wanna come?”
    “Yeah, let me get my coat.”
    On the way over, Lucas told Del about Catrin. Del listened, finished the cone in the cold night, and then said, “She’s probably gonna want to jump in bed with you. To prove to herself that she’s still desirable and that she’s as good as she was in the old days.”
    “What am I gonna do?”
    “Well, I don’t think jumping her is gonna be the answer.” He looked at Lucas. “Or is it?”
    “No. I mean . . . man, she’s really nice, but she’s really fucked up.”
    “So give her a really understanding talk about how she is fucked up—you might want to find a different phrase—and that she shouldn’t do anything until she’s gotten herself straight again.”
    “That doesn’t sound like something Catrin would go for,” Lucas said.
    “How do you meet these women, anyway? They’re all so fuckin’ tangled up.”
    “I don’t know. It’s a special talent.”
    “What you need is some chick that comes up and says, ‘Wanna see my Harley?’ And you say, ‘Is it a Sportster?’ And she says, ‘It’s whatever you want it to be.’”
    “I’ve often wondered if you had a fantasy life,” Lucas said. “I guess that question’s answered.”
    “Yeah, well, if I were you, I’d go home and think about this Catrin chick for a long time. Especially if she’s still a friend.” They walked along for half a block, and then Del added, “There is one bright side to the problem.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Yeah. It’s your problem, and not mine.”
     
 
MARCY WAS SITTING up, awake, but she looked distant, her eyes a little too bright. “The docs are worried that she might have a touch of pneumonia,” Black said. “They say it shouldn’t be serious . . . but they’ve got to deal with it.”
    Lucas squatted to look straight into her face. “How’re you feeling?”
    “A little warm.”
    “Still hurt?”
    “Always hurt.”
    “Goddamnit.” He stood up. “There’s got to be better drugs.”
    “Yeah, but they fuck up my head. I’d rather have a little pain,” Marcy said. “How’s the case? I understand this Rodriguez guy is out in the open.”
    They talked about Rodriguez, and she stayed awake, but she didn’t look as good as she had, Lucas thought. She looked like she had the flu. After chatting for a while, he told the others he was going to get a Coke, and wandered out of the room. As soon as he was out, he headed for the desk and asked, “Is Weather Karkinnen . . . ?”
    The nurse looked past him: Weather was headed down the hall toward them. He walked toward her and said, “You’ve heard about Marcy? This pneumonia thing?”
    “Yeah, I’ve been