Q Is for Quarry

is?"
    "Nuhn-uhn. I'll get to that, but lemme ask you something first. Suppose someone tells him I called you?"
    "Come on. I can't control that. Besides, who's going to tell? I can promise not a word of this will come from me."
    "You swear?"
    "Of course." I could hear him cup a hand over the mouthpiece, lips so close to the phone I thought he'd slobber in my ear. "He talked about stabbing some chick to death."
    "Oh, for heaven's sake, Pudgie. That's why he went to prison. For killing Cathy Lee Pearse."
    "Not her. Another one. This was after he killed her."
    "I'm listening."
    "He's bragging about what happens to any bitch tries to cross him. He said he picked up this chick in a bar. She had some dope on her and the two of them got loose. They go out to the parking lot to play grab ass, but she turns all sour on him and starts giving him a hard time, which pisses him off. When she refuses to put out, he offs her and sticks her in the trunk of Cathy Lee's car. He drives around with her two days, but he's worried she'll start to stink, so he dumps her when he gets to Lompoc."
    "Where'd he pick her up?"
    "What bar? Don't know. He never said. He didn't mention the town, either. I'd guess Santa Teresa. It had to've been before he hit Lompoc because that's where he got caught."
    "What about the dump site? Did he say where that was?"
    "Some place outside town where she wouldn't be found. I guess they managed to nail him on Cathy Lee, but nobody knew about the other one, so he was free and clear on that."
    "What made you suddenly remember? This doesn't sound like something that would slip your mind."
    "It didn't 'slip my mind,'" he said, offended. "You're the one came to me. I never offered to snitch. I didn't 'suddenly' do anything. I remembered the minute his name came up."
    "Why didn't you tell me then?"
    "We'd only just met. How'd I know I could trust you? I had to think about that."
    "What made you decide to tell me?"
    "I probably should've kept my mouth shut if it comes right down to it. Frankie's a bad-ass. Word leaks out and my sorry butt is fried. He's not a guy you fuck with and expect to live."
    "Fair enough," I said. "Did he say anything else?"
    "Not that I remember offhand. Time, I didn't pay much attention. Jail, everybody brags about stuff like that. It's mostly bullshit, so I didn't attach anything to it. I mean, I did, but then that's the last I ever heard of it. Now you're saying some girl's body was dumped and right away I think about him."
    "You're sure about this."
    "No, I'm not sure. He might've made the whole thing up. How the hell should I know? You said call and I did."
    I thought about it briefly. This could be a hustle, though for the life of me, I couldn't see what Pudgie was getting out of it. "That's not much to go on."
    "Well, I can't help you there."
    "How'd he kill her?"
    "Knife, I guess. Said he stabbed her, wrapped her up, and stuck her in the trunk. Soon as he got to Lompoc, he pitched her off the side of the road and hightailed it out of there. By the time the cops picked him up he figured he was safe. All they cared about was nailing him for Cathy Lee."
    "Did he know the girl?"
    "I doubt it. He didn't talk like he did."
    "Because I'm curious about his motive."
    "You gotta be kidding. Frankie doesn't need a motive. She could've looked at him funny or called him a pencil dick. If she knew he was on the run, she might've threatened to turn him in."
    "Interesting," I said. "I'll have to give this some thought. Where are you calling from?"
    "A place I hang out in Creosote. My sis drove up from the desert and brought me back to her house."
    "Is there any way I can reach you if I need to get in touch?" He gave me a number with an area code.
    I said, "Thanks. This could be a big help."
    "Where's Frankie now?"
    "I'm not sure. We've heard he's in town."
    "You mean the fucker's out?"
    "Sure, he's been paroled."
    "You never said that. Oh, shit. You have to swear you won't tell him where you heard this. And don't ask me to testify in court because I won't."
    "Pudgie, you couldn't testify in court. This is all hearsay. You didn't see him do anything so quit worrying. I'll tell the two cops I'm working with, but that's the end of it."
    "I hope I haven't made a mistake."
    "Relax. You're fine."
    "You buy me those cigarettes?"
    "No, but I owe you a bunch."
    Dolan picked me up at the office Tuesday morning at 10:00. I'd managed my usual 6:00 A.M. run, after which I'd showered and dressed. I had coffee and a