Gin Palace 01 - The Poisoned Rose

deeper into Tina’s neck. She flinched and stiffened.
    “My sister is a whore, Mac. She sleeps with men because she thinks they can help her. She goes to men and sleeps with them and tricks them into protecting her. It’s the only skill she has. She can’t keep a job, so she fools men into caring for her. She sleeps with them if she has to. She did it to Vogler. She did it to Scully. She even tried it with you.”
    “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Jean-Marc.”
    “So who’s worth more to you? My slut of a sister or your little girlfriend here?”
    “You and Searls sacked my friend last May. Why?”
    “It was a misunderstanding.”
    “How was it a misunderstanding?”
    “The scumbag drug dealer, Scully. We knew he knew my sister. We knew he was either hiding her or knew where she was hiding. We put pressure on him and he gave us your friend’s name, said your friend knew where she was. It wasn’t till just before you came in that we figured out we’d been lied to.”
    “Why would Scully set Augie up like that?”
    “Your friend had taken pictures that Scully didn’t want taken. It was his way of getting us to do his dirty work for him.”
    “Why’d you tear the place apart then, like you were looking for something?”
    “Your buddy held out for a long time. He took a pretty good beating. Then I guess he’d taken one punch too many because he passed out. We tore up the place after that, looking for anything we could find. Searls stomped on your friend for a while after that just for the exercise. Do you want him to stomp on you? Your friend here?”
    I glanced at Searls. His eyes were fixed on me. My heart was pounding.
    “I know what you and the Chief did,” I said to Jean-Marc. “Ten years ago, the refuge across the pond from your house. I know everything. I’ve told Frank Gannon. Killing your sister won’t help keep your secret. Neither will killing me.”
    “Maybe you aren’t so smart after all, Mac. I heard your conversation with Gannon, remember? You told him no such thing. Anyway, as I’ve told you, she’s not a well woman. You shouldn’t believe a thing she says.”
    “She’s gone, Jean-Marc. Just face it. You lost. She’s gone.”
    “If so, that’s bad news for you.”
    “Just let the girl go, Jean-Marc.”
    “I’m only going to ask one more time, Mac. And then I’m going to turn things over to my associate here. Where is my sister—?”
    I saw his attention shift then, quickly, to something behind me.
    And then he said, with urgency, “ Rose .”
    I turned and there was Marie, in the dark hallway just outside my door. She was looking at her brother, her face blank, her fists hanging clenched at her sides. She stared at him with her chin up and her shoulders back. A second later, she turned and bolted down the hallway.
    Jean-Marc called out again, this time saying, “Rose-Marie.”
    I had forgotten her full name, the name that her father had called her all those years ago.
    I remembered then what she had started to say to me.
    That’s why I came to you that night.
    I realized now what Jean-Marc had meant when he said that she had slept with me, too.
    And why, when she was no longer hoarse, I had thought I recognized her voice.
    Rose, the woman who had come looking for my help last spring, the woman I was too drunk to remember, was Rose-Marie Bishop.
    Jean-Marc released Tina and bolted full stride toward the door.
    And that was when all hell broke loose.
    I moved to intercept him, to check him into the wall as he ran past me. But Searls yanked on the cuffs, pulling me back. All I could do was kick at Jean-Marc’s knee. I hit it, not hard, but it was enough to make him stumble and fall flat out on his face on my floor, enough to make him lose precious time, to further the lead Marie held. He pulled himself up quickly and scrambled out the door, just as Searls’ big right hand came swinging down toward my head like a ball on a chain.
    There wasn’t time for anything less than all the rage that burned in me, now and ever.
    I stepped in close, slipping under the overhand punch and grabbing Searls’ balls with my right hand—my cuffed hand. At the same time I reached out and with my left grabbed the side of his head like it was a basketball. Both his hands went down to grab my right forearm and pull my right hand from his groin, which was what I knew he’d do. With my left hand undisturbed, I sunk my thumb into his right eye, crushing it against the