Violets Are Blue

might be living together commune style. You have any idea where?” she asked.
    Conover nodded and even pretended to be concerned. He was also checking her out, she could tell. Obviously, he was a breast man. “We never got any confirmation of that,” he said. “Kids crash together, of course, but I don’t know about any
commune
. There are a couple of hot clubs — Catalyst, Palookaville. And lots of kids share cribs on lower Pacific Street.”
    She didn’t give up. Never. “But if a lot of kids
were
living together — any ideas where that might be?”
    Conover sighed and actually looked a little annoyed with her for asking. Jamilla could tell he wasn’t the kind of cop who put too much of himself into his work. She would have transferred him in a second if he worked for her, and Conover would have sworn it was a gender thing. It wasn’t. He was a lazy, half-assed cop, and she hated that. Lives depended on how well he did his job. Didn’t he understand that?
    “Maybe out in the foothills. Or north around Boulder Creek,” Conover finally volunteered in a soft drawl. “I really don’t know what to tell you.”
    Of course you don’t, Harry. Duh.
    “Where would
you
look first?” she persisted.
If you were worth jack shit as a cop
.
    “Inspector, I just wouldn’t be chasing this one too hard. Yes, there have been some curious disappearances around here. But that’s true of just about every town up and down the coast of California. Kids are more restless now than they used to be when we were growing up. I don’t believe anybody’s getting seriously hurt in Santa Cruz, and I sure don’t buy that this is the freaking
vampire
capital of the West Coast. It isn’t. Believe me on that. There are no vampires in Santa Cruz.”
    She nodded, pretended to agree. “I think I’ll try the foothills first,” she said.
    Conover saluted her. “If you’re finished chasing ghouls before seven or so, give me a call. Maybe we could have a drink. It is your day off, right?”
    Jamilla nodded. “I’ll do that. If I’m finished before seven, Harry. Thanks for all your help.”
Jackass
.

Chapter 81

    SHE WAS pissed now. Who in their right mind wouldn’t be? Here she was, working her butt off in somebody else’s town. She parked the Saab on a funky side street in town, near the Metro Center, right across from the Asti bar. She had lost track of the San Lorenzo River while she was driving, but it was around here somewhere. She could
smell
it, anyway.
    She had just gotten out of the car when two men appeared. They walked up quickly and flanked her tightly on either side.
    Jamilla winced. They almost seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
Blond ponytails
, she thought.
College kids? Surfers
? She sure hoped so.
    They were well built, but they didn’t look like weight lifters. More like they came by it naturally. Images of Eros, Hermes, and Apollo came to mind. Muscles that were extremely well defined. Virility. Chiseled marble.
    “Can I help you fellows out?” she asked. “Looking for the beach?”
    The taller of the two spoke with tremendous confidence, or maybe it was cockiness. “Doubt it,” he said. “We’re not surfers, actually. Besides, we’re from around here. How about you?”
    Both of them had the deepest blue eyes. They were incredibly intense. One looked no older than sixteen. Their movements were deliberate and controlled. She didn’t like this. There was no one else around to intervene on the side street.
    “Maybe you could tell
me
where the beach is,” she said.
    They were crowding her physically, standing too close. She wouldn’t be able to get her gun out. She couldn’t move without bumping into one or the other. They wore black T-shirts, jeans, rock climber’s shoes.
    “You want to back off a little?” she finally said. “Just back off, okay?”
    The older one smiled. The dent between his lip and nose was a sexy, round hollow. “I’m William. This is my brother, Michael. By any chance were you looking for us, Inspector Hughes?”
    Oh no, oh Jesus.
Jamilla tried to reach for her sidearm in the holster strapped to her back. They grabbed her. Took away her gun as easily as if she were a child. She was astonished at how fast they moved — and how strong they were. The two of them pushed her down on the sidewalk and handcuffed her.
Where did they get cuffs? In New Orleans? The murdered detective?
    The older one spoke again. “Don’t scream or I’ll snap your neck, Inspector.”